Johnny Come Home

by Rafael Henry

Chapter 25

Anna arrived back at the Hut with John and Richard's little brother Sis, who was in ebullient mood, delighted to be back with the new love of his life, Duncan.

Duncan do this, Duncan do that, was all we heard. Duncan get me washed, Duncan get me dressed………not that there was much dressing to be done for any of us. Nudity is the general rule, including the boys' mum, the 'liberated' Anna. Girls don't do anything sexually for me, a fact that will not have escaped your notice, but as an example of the human race, she's worth a second and a third look with the most perfect pair of breasts, completed by two extraordinarily pert nipples that were once the conduits for the sustenance given to her three sons. To see all three nude, and at their different stages of development is pure joy for me. I love the human form, at any age, and both genders. Sexually, just the one gender! Having said that, I had sex with Anna three times I think it was, because she asked me to. I love her dearly so I tried, and it worked, given a liberal dollop of imagination on my part. I was actually fucking Simon Perret but my sperm went into Anna's body three times. That's what she wanted. I don't know how efficacious my semen is, but with the sex life I'm looking forward to, it doesn't matter.

Needless to say that I'm enjoying having John close to me again. Very close. But how does the existence of this other person in his life now affect what I'd like to do with John, if he wants it, and he shows every sign of wanting it.

'I'm on holiday Alex. It's different to normal life so it's ok isn't it? Anyway our relationship is open. He told me that.' Remarks Johnny.

'Have you slept with him John? I mean, properly ?'

'Yes. Well sort of.'

'In other words, no?'

'No, not like that .'

'So you're still not going to tell me who he is?'

'I can't.'

'Why not.'

'I just can't tell you Alex.'

Anna has a friend living in S. Ives, an arty town at the far western end of the peninsular that weathers the Atlantic storms, resisting with it's granite walls. She was happy to leave Sis with us for a few days, and Sis was more than happy to slip into our life style of healthy eating and simple living, usually with nothing on. I mean, why would you wear clothes if you didn't have to? The Hut is set well back from passing beach goers, so our nudity went, by and large, unnoticed. Usually. But children are curious. They notice as they walk the long beach in front of us, the small wooden building with the decking in front, and find ways of getting a closer look at something they recognize as different and interesting. When they get close enough to see us, they inevitably stop in their tracks, especially if Sis, and sometimes Duncan are playing castle building on the beach a few yards in front of us. We are in our own little world here, and the possible presence of 'outsiders' isn't going to make us do what comes unnaturally to us. If we swim or walk away from the Hut, then those are public spaces and another matter. Nudity can offend. But in our own private space we have very few rules.

Obviously on a temporary basis, John and I have resumed the bedtime frolics we enjoyed years ago, which is very nice. More like early afternoon frolics, as we all 'lie down' after our very light lunch, or no lunch. I think we're all losing weight here, what with fairly constant exercise. We have Sis with us, but he's soon asleep after a light lunch and all the fresh air of the morning, and our morning begins early around six. So by twelve or one our little charge is ready for a two hour nap.

I suppose it's not the best idea to engage in sex with a nearly three-year old in the bed with you, albeit fast asleep, but we do. If he wakes, we'll stop. The super king-sized bed my father built has no springs, just a very firm mattress on a solid wooden frame so there's no noise, apart from the ones we can do nothing about, and a bit of heavy breathing, at the end.

Sis slept on while Johnny lay there looking up at me, as I looked down at him. How I loved him then, and still do. It's taking a while, which I want it to, but I know I'm close to coming, with Johnny pushing up against me the way he always did, teasing me, and knowing those movements he's perfected will make me spill my beans quicker. But it's those sounds. That's the icing on the cake.

He's playing with his cock. He wants to come too, but he's too late. I get selfish when I'm almost there. It's not Johnny underneath me anymore, just a body I'm using to satisfy my most basic urges. And then it all starts flowing and I'm floating in space, disembodied and unreal. A lost boy in a pool of pleasure.

His eyes are shut and his mouth is open, and it's drifting away as it always does. My orgasm. I've come, and it's gone. Expelled from my body. All of it, now in Johnny, my lovely loving one. The feeling. It's over.

'Look at Sis now Alex. Isn't that lovely? Do you love him? I do, desperately.'

I do love that little creature, Sis. How could I not?

John was referring to Sis's little penis, so perfectly formed and hard as a bone at this moment. I think he's going to have a good one in the fullness of time. It's pretty good now as we watch it move as the boy sleeps on, his tiny balls moving too. Apparently we boys can get a dozen erections during a normal night's sleep. With my thought processes I wouldn't be surprised at all. Of course it's nothing to do with any sexual thoughts Sis may be having, it's just his body limbering up. Our moving parts must do their learning.

'I think I'm going to have to drip dry today. No wonder I'm not keen to fellate you.'

'You don't need to. Not with that bottom of yours.'

'And yours. Did it attract comment?'

'In my younger days it did, but that was partly my fault. I have to admit to tarting. Nice bottom Alex they said. I got that a few times in my first year at Endellions. That was in my first year. In my second they got braver and gave it the occasional pat. I never complained about that common assault.'

'Common?'

'Yes, it happened all the time. Daytime fun.'

'What about night time?'

'We were asleep darling. What could possibly happen then?'

'I don't know. I wasn't at a boarding school. Nocturnal visitors perhaps?'

'Probably. It would feel like a wet dream I suppose, being tossed off in one's sleep. Better at six in the morning when he thinks you're asleep, but you're not. You just pretend you are and let him do it to you. Now that is fun.'

'So did you know by that time?'

'About myself? Oh yes, way before that. The boy around the corner I would look at? I found myself interested in him, once I was aware of the concept of sex and the other things you could do with your penis other than peeing. Then there was you dear boy. You were the perfect fit for me.

'And me. Still seems to be, judging by that performance.'

'Still ok then?'

'As good as ever. Still filling the gilded vessel to the brim I see.'

'I think that's enough of that John.'

'You're right, it is enough of that for me. Any more and I don't know how I'd cope with it. By the way I haven't had the pleasure. Sis is still snoozing?'

'And lost his ardour I see.'

'Well if you're only three, you can't keep that up for ever.'

'Unlike some people. And he's nearly three.'

John's ardour, by this time, was in the same condition as little Sis's, that is to say, deflated rather. But not for long. Favours need to be returned. And that done to our mutual satisfaction, we collectively turned our attention to the adorable Sis, whose ardour had returned. The little walnut whip has grown into a rigid thick twig whose foreskin naturally retracts leaving the shiny head exposed.

'Amazing things aren't they Alex?'

'Indeed so. What would we do without them eh?'

'Quite. Where else would we keep our brains?'

A minute later Sis woke up having slept for more than one hour. He sees Rickie and crawls onto his tummy, his little chubby legs either side of his chest, closes his eyes and promptly goes back to sleep. That's what big brothers are for. Lying on, asleep. Ricky strokes the boys back just as a mother would tend to her child imparting her loving care.

Sis is brandishing his red spade again. We know what this means; someone has to go down the six steps at the front of the decking and play sand castles with him.

' Duncan come.' Insists Sis.

So Duncan rises onto his knees from the large beach towel which he shares with Richard. He's been lying on his tummy and John and I have been admiring the view. It's an even better one now.

'Doesn't look as if much has been going on down there Alex?'

'No. When did you lose yours John?'

'You know damn well when.' John says with a smile.

'Oh yes. Well he's only got four days to do it in now.'

'And Anna's back the day after tomorrow isn't she?'

'Plenty of time yet.'

'For whom?'

'Any one of us I suspect.'

'It has to be Richard, if it's anyone surely?'

'Yes, you're right. It does.'

Sis and Duncan are making good progress on yet another castle, castellated of course, about fifty yards down the beach where the sand is finer and more suitable for construction, and as the tide is rising, a supply of sea water is close to hand for moat filling purposes. Not many people object to innocent pre-puberty nudity on the beach. It's all sweetness and light down there.

'Looks like we have visitors.' Says John to the adjacent Alex who has his head in The Liar, a recent Stephen Fry novel. Alex looks up to see two figures standing over Duncan and Sis. A girl and a boy, about the same size as Duncan, and therefore of similar age.

'Some negotiation going on Alex.' Observes John.

'You can play with us if you take your things off.' I said, with a chuckle.

'I think you might be right Alex. A lot of youngsters would do that willingly.'

'Yes. I did for a start.'

'Up to a certain age.'

'True.'

The tide has washed out the moat the boys dug, and is in the process of demolishing the castle shaped mound of sand, as another rampart collapses. You build and then enjoy its destruction. So that game is over. What next?

John throws a pair of swimming trunks at Alex which he pulls up his thighs. The four figures are walking up the beach.

'Better look decent Alex. And you Rich.'

Yes, better had.

The four of them stayed down on the warm sand to drink their squash from the brightly coloured yellow beakers, watched by John and Alex, who had slipped his device back under the towel. All information can be useful no matter how it's acquired. It was a particularly interesting composition. The nude standing figures, posed like that. A gift in fact. It doesn't often happen like this, so when it does, seize the opportunity.

John turned to and asked how my book was going; Stephen Fry's novel, The Liar.

'Alright thanks. It reminds me of my school, S. Endellion. He keeps jobbing back to incidents while he was there, and the blond-haired beauty he fell in love with. I think quite a lot of it is based on his early life, and he doesn't hold back.'

'Oh?'

'Yes, there are a lot of very graphic descriptions and very rude words. Quite sexy in places.'

'Good. It'll keep you interested then?'

'I'm never not interested John.'

'Like Richard. I'm sure he has Duncan down as his girl substitute.'

'That's what was missing at S. Endellions. A few of us provided what the boys needed.'

'A good fuck?'

'I wouldn't go that far, but we were comforters for sure.'

'But you did, occasionally?'

'Oh yes, with the right person. I did. Love was very much part of it. It had to be. There was romance.'

'I'm glad to hear it. You didn't just do it for pleasure.'

'Oh yes I did. At the end of the day, it was all for pleasure. For both of us.'

'Like Duncan. He's itching for Richard.'

'Sis's bottom cream?'

'Oh yes. Duncan's itchy bottom. Did you get that sorted?'

'I did.'

'And?'

'Job done, and a few words on the subject too.'

'What you might call a little chat?'

'Yes. Instructional, just in case. Better to be prepared. I would like to think that an experience like that wouldn't put him off for life.

Duncan was clearly offering himself to Richard. The way he wriggled up next to him on the towel, tickling him. Stroking his back. Touching his bottom. And then Ricky turns towards Duncan giving him the same attention, hard. Duncan turns his back on him as Ricky grabs the boy around his middle, pressing himself into his back, his penis wedged between Duncan's buttocks. Message sent and understood surely? Duncan is up too, a lovely slightly curved number just waiting. It would be perfect for Duncan, losing it to Richard.

We sent them to bed shortly after; about nine. Boys had tried to give me hickies but I knew it was coming and managed to stop them. After the first one. Everybody could see it. It marked me out as a queer new boy and therefore instantly popular amongst a certain group of older boys who thought they could do it with me. It's on his neck and he hasn't seen it yet. That was naughty Richard. He hadn't realised what you were doing to him. Very naughty indeed.

He and Richard had made a night of it. As far as I know, they weren't properly asleep until just after ten last night. With John at my shoulder, we couldn't see anything with the bedroom door closed, but the wall is constructed of those thin wooden boards that interlock. Even small sounds can be heard through it. And the bed of course. You can't do what they were obviously doing silently. Not on that bed. The one in the main bedroom is a solid affair and completely silent. Just as well. Anyway, none of us need to hide our personal activity do we? No we don't. We can hear words too and it sounds like Duncan is getting what he wants. What he's been asking for for days now. I hope he's enjoying it.

I can remember my 'first time' as it's generally known as. I knew the boy concerned was kind and gentle, and super handsome too. He told me exactly what to do, and if we were patient, it would be fine. It was his first time too so it was very special occasion for both of us. When he showed me his erect penis it didn't look that big to me. Just as well I suppose. It took about fifteen minutes before he came and I was hard all that time. At the end he cried as I cuddled him. A boy had made love to me, beautifully, and in a kindly way. I suppose I was in shock for a while, a couple of days at least, as I processed what I'd allowed him to do. We didn't do it again, but he always had kind words for me. It was close to the end of his school career so a couple of weeks later he was gone. That's how it was. He was off to university and girls no doubt, but I hope he still remembers me. He should do, my face looking up into his as he did his thing with me. I made it as good for him as I could being the rather sweet compliant boy I was. He told me to go and find a second pair of pants and put them on over the ones was already wearing. By the time I went back to my own bed I knew why. The prescribed clothing list included four pairs of pants for the week. My mother packed six for me. The House bathroom always had various items that had been rinsed out of necessity, hanging on cords across the room. I used to stare at the rows of them thinking about those juicy cocks that snoozed in them all day, until they were duly woken at night to release their owner's sexual tension into them. In the dormitory one evening we tried to work out in millilitres, how much semen, if you added it all up, was produced in the House each night and the following morning. We reckoned it would fill one of those one-third-of-a-pint milk bottles that all children were given free each day. Just imagine that!

Nonsense of course, probably. So Billy Everseed decided we should see exactly what our dormitory could provide by way of a collective volume. There are ten of us, and just a couple who look like they might contribute something. Billy's hand was to be the receptacle as the rest of us rubbed frantically to release our contribution into Billy's palm, with him doing like wise. So as and when each of us was 'ready', the tip of the penis was lodged over Billy's hand and the orgasmic fluid duly released. Despite some clear differences, size wise, when flaccid, I noted that most of our erect cocks were more or less the same size interestingly. A pretty little blond boy we called Georgie got himself off first with a zero result, but what a joy watching him come with little squeaks and sharp breaths, and his left hand seriously interfering with his bottom whilst he did it. I need a chat with him at some stage being a serial bottom fiddler myself.

To cut a longish story short, with nine down and just Billy Everseed to come, his palm was barely shiny pink skin, and the small pool of milky semen was mainly my contribution. Then it was Billy's turn.

We watched, knowing by Billy's grunts and breaths that the event was imminent. Any second now, he was going to thrill us. I'm certain that none of us had seen a full ejaculation that we were about to be treated to. With one last long exhalation of his warm breath caressing our faces, Billy produced the goods. And how! The first lot missed his hand completely and hit Robin's face making him recoil sharply, his hand coming up to his mouth which Billy was inadvertently aiming at, or possibly deliberately. Robin must have had a wonderful view as the one-eyed devil opened up ever wider to deliver the blow. The next lot shot out in an arc and landed on the floor, the third and fourth spurts, nothing like as powerful as the first two, were neatly contained in Billy's palm.

We all looked at the unfortunate recipient of Billy's achievement, Robin, the little blond-haired beauty. The poor boy was in shock for a few seconds, until a faint smile appeared, as he licked his lips once more.

'What does it taste like Robin?' Was what we all wanted to know.

'Well. What then?'

'Weird.'

'What sort of weird Robin?' Asked Damian. 'Nice weird? Or nasty weird?'

'Quite nice.' Robin replies, wondering if he's said the right thing.

The next day in the playground, I asked Billy if he did it a lot.

'Most days. How about you?'

'Same really. Do you always get that much Billy?'

'No. I think it was because you were all watching. I liked that.'

So did we.

I had asked Duncan a few leading questions about his last night with Richard. I was rather keen to know if they had had a decent time with each other, hoping I might get something of a story from him, but he was reticent to say much.

'Can I tell you when I get home?' He says quietly, shifting around in his seat.

'Why? Is there a problem Dunks?'

'Not really. Would you look please?'

'Were you unsure about anything last night then? I hope Richard behaved well?'

'Yes. I mean he did. He did it.'

'Right. I'm not sure I understand what you're saying Duncan.'

'Can I show you? When we get to Granny's?'

Granny was her usual welcoming self, saying all the usual things one might expect as she ushered us towards the stairs and Duncan's room. I was armed with my rucksack and my toiletries within, as a precaution. I was horribly afraid that Richard might have been rough with him, in some way, or other.

I closed the bedroom door and walked towards Duncan who was standing by the bed looking at me. I looked down at his shorts and saw the developing bump. Close enough now, I lifted up the hem of his tee shirt as a hint. He took it and pulled the garment up and over his head.

'Goodness Duncan. You look lovely. You really do.'

He smiles.

'Can I show you now?' he says, pulling my shirt up. He tugs at my shorts, a hint as to what he wanted me to do next. Then at the waistband of my pants. So down they come too. I know what's coming.

We're standing in front of each other, nude as can be, and ready. Duncan looks down and smiles.

'Can I touch it?'

He does, just lightly underneath with the tips of his fingers.

'It's all jumpy. It's not like Richard's.'

It's bigger for one thing old son. I'm eighteen, not thirteen.

After a brief investigation and his curiosity satisfied, he lies on his back on the bed, knees raised and together hiding his sex. I'm on my knees facing him. I know that if he applied a few strokes, I'd come. It's a beautiful sight before me.

Slowly, the space between his knees widens and I can see him for what he is.

'I can't really see properly Duncan?'

He smiles and obeys orders. Now I can. The bronze eye is looking straight up at me. Richard has been there, and I can go there too, right now if I want to. I'm eighteen now and technically an adult about to have sex with a thirteen-year-old boy. With my experience I can do a lot better than Richard can do. I know that. I could give him something he wouldn't forget in a hurry. Ask Johnny. He knows. But how would that make me feel? Very nice at the time. But later?

I took a good look and reached for my rucksack on the floor beside me.

'You look fine Duncan, but this might make sure? I said showing him the tub little Sis gets smoothed around his anal area.

I'm lying beside him with a good dollop of the thick white material on my middle fingertip.

'It might feel a bit cool to start with Dunks.'

He nods, waiting, his head back. Now for a couple of rather intimate questions.

'Did Richard come last night?'

'Yes.'

'And you?'

'No.'

The selfish little toad.

'You can now if you want to? Do you remember the last time?'

He nods, holding his penis in his fingers and thumb.

Good. He remembers.

It's a very singular pleasure; watching a boy masturbate for you, or if not for you, for himself. There's a certain frisson engendered by an audience. Quintus watched me because I asked him to; after his refusal to make love to me. He loved it, just as I love watching a good boy do his thing purely his own pleasure.

I pushed my fingers through Duncan's hair, which was badly in need of a wash. His skin felt clammy, and his personal perfume was quite strong, smelling like boys in the midst of puberty can do. A very personal musky aroma 'down there'. I put my face down to enclose the still hard penis, and tasted heaven. I wondered how long, albeit post orgasm, I could keep him hard this way, using every trick I have learned to stimulate a boy's cock and balls. Fifteen minutes and another mini-event later, I had found out.

We lay together on the bed, hot and a little sweaty, as I stroked his tummy and chest. Duncan is a seriously responsive boy indeed. Twice in fifteen minutes. A shy retiring kind of boy is Duncan, where still waters run deep.

Previous
Chapter

We support Ukraine — Мы поддерживаем Украину — Ми підтримуємо Україну

We support Ukraine — Мы поддерживаем Украину — Ми підтримуємо Україну

Iomfats.org

Johnny Come Home

by Rafael Henry

Chapter 25