by Rafael Henry

Chapter 6

True romance?

We had watched the television, the three of us, mum in her armchair and Lael and I on the sofa. We had both bathed earlier, him first as I chatted with him, and then me, in his water. When I was little and had a friend round, we would always share the water, legs entangled, playing innocently with our bits, making them stiff and tingly. And then each other's, thinking thoughts no more complicated than how nice it felt to be friends like this. Happy days. To love another boy then was a simple matter, love always returned. Now, love with another is a much more complicated matter because sex is inevitably involved. It can't be avoided it seems. It comes with being the age we are now. A new element in our lives which cannot be ignored. It's now a fact of our lives. The key as I see it, is to allow that beast into our heads when it feels right, and only then. Today I have felt waves of affection for my new friend, and with it, a deep yearning to be near this boy called Lael.

It seems that every day, despite the time he spends at the Language School, I am getting to know Lael better. Ten days now, and already I'm dreading him leaving us in September. Ridiculous as it's now only mid July. The Avengers repeat has just finished. Steed has amusingly vanquished the enemy once more, waving his umbrella at the camera in triumph.

I can feel the warmth from Lael's leg against mine. Mum gave us a rug to put over ourselves in case we felt a little chilly with our bare legs on show. Just as well. I can't stop thinking about Lael, and the way we greeted each other this afternoon, him just back from the School, me just in from the garden. Thinking about Lael, and what I've seen and know about by friend, is affecting me, still……right now.

'Time you boys went up I think.'

We both sat there, still. I said……

'In a minute mum can we? In a couple of minutes?'

She smiles and that's fine. Maybe she knows and is being tactful. Mum went out with the empty mugs of hot chocolate. I left the plaid rug on the sofa as we hurried upstairs to our rooms. She hadn't seen us.

I kissed Lael goodnight on the cheek in our bathroom. He didn't want me to let go, hands behind each other's necks, holding on hard. There are strict rules laid done by mum. Separate bedrooms. We could have shared a room but she has a responsibility to the language school and is in loco parentis. Tricky. He gives me one of those girly waves with a soft hand as he disappears behind his bedroom door. There is something just a bit girly about Lael. Some boys would call him pretty, but I just think he's a handsome boy. It's odd but I quite resent the girliness about him. I suppose resent is not the right word. Not what I mean. Dominance might be better, like I want to boss him around? We enjoy our little playfights on his bed or mine when we get the chance. I'm not banned from his room. Nothing as draconian as that. He always ends up underneath me, submissive if you like, while I feel quite aggressive, on top of him, always the winner it seems. It's an odd part of our friendship that. We are both excited when we do this; one of our everyday rituals. He must always lose the fight, giving in beautifully to me. When I have my hands on his arms, pinning him down so he can't move, he looks back at me. Neither of us can smile. We just look at each other. We're both excited.

Just before Lael closes the door of his room, his neat white pants glowing in the half-light, he whispers some words. I didn't quite catch what he says………

'What was that Lael?'

'I wish I was Robbie.' He says quietly.

Robbie is so different to Lael; a very selfish boy.

' Will you help me later Jon?' Says Robbie.

Again? Yes of course I will Robbie.

I tried going a bit further one night with Robbie. I always tease him for five minutes before delivering the goods for him, or to put it another way, before he delivers the goods, and I clean up after him. He's got much worse in that regard lately. He expects me to do everything for him now, like his slave. Bad news in one way, but good news in another. I always watch. I love that part of it. Yes, one night I went too far below and he didn't like it. I really don't know why I did that; just an impulse I suppose. He pushed my hand away and swore at me, but wasn't about to stop me doing the rest for him. I can always anticipate his little explosion. All over now, literally, in less than three minutes. He's almost always the quickest in our room. He rolls over with his back to me and in a couple of minutes he'll be fast asleep like the others, leaving me marooned with my thoughts. But all the time he wants me to, I will. I know I won't be in a bed next to him when we go back in September. We'll all get moved around again. Maybe I'll get stuck with Rory. Actually, thinking about it, that wouldn't be so bad.

I look at the bedside clock. Six thirty. I need a wee. I woke up excited, as usual, so it will be a while standing over the lavatory pan before I can wee. Robbie seems able to wee like that but I can't.

On my way back to my room across the hall, I look through Lael's bedroom door which is as usual slightly ajar. That's another rule. No closed doors at night. He's partly uncovered and he must be a little wakeful as his hand is slowly moving in his groin area, the go-to area for boys in the morning, hidden by the sheet. I'm tempted. He said last night that he wanted to be Robbie. He knows exactly what I do for Robbie. My mother made the situation plain the other day. We are responsible for Lael and his general welfare. So, leave Lael alone Jon.

I have left my bedroom door open. I know that if it's going to happen, it will be soon, or not at all. It's a sight I've seen countless times before; a boy standing like that dressed in that one item, getting dressed or changing for PE or Games, as he fiddles with a shirt button, or something. There's a little light in the hall now, as my door begins to open very slowly. Lael is standing there. There are questions in his face as we look at each other. He's waiting for my reaction.

When I draw back the sheet, wait, Lael steps forward, and then back again. My mother is still up. I can hear her downstairs. The door closes again.

Yesterday on our walk with Willo, we had passed an advertising board for a film playing at the local cinema; a romance, obviously, as the couple in the picture were kissing. Lael had stopped to look at it, and said something I didn't hear properly.

'Do you remember that poster we saw yesterday Jon?' Lael says quietly.

I nod and smile back.

'Do you want to try? Shall we?'

Bathrooms are private places, and Lael and I share ours. The stage is indeed set for our first proper kiss. We have both been waiting for this moment to come, and I found the perfect excuse to bridge the gap, an open the floodgates. Being from the frozen north, Lael's skin is naturally pale, although our summer sun has begun to turn milk bottle white a slightly darker shade of pale. A creamy pale with just a hint of tan now. I'm holding the tube of cream which will protect the boy's skin. He's off again today, this time to the beach in Margate, and a few scary rides in the theme park, Dreamland. With our faces just inches apart, I can feel his breath on my skin as I apply the cream to soft vulnerable skin. This is truly blissful, my latest attempt at foreplay as the book calls it. No hurry the Book insists. Lael begins to smile as I work the cream into his face; every square inch of it; around his eyes, mouth, ears even, as we close in on each other. Nearer and nearer. Then I stop, put the tube down on the basin and go back to him. He's ready for me now. I don't know if he's aroused by all this play, but I am.

As kisses go, it was pretty terrible. Wet, clumsy and just plain awkward. But the intent is there. I thought of Robbie and how horrified he would have been if I ever tried this on him. He just wanted the one thing which I gladly provided for him, the selfish little oik. Foreplay is never on Robbie's agenda. But despite our mutual inadequacy at the kissing game with Lael, this is something quite different. I have never kissed a boy before, honestly I haven't. My current inspiration, The Beginners Guide, deals with this issue in some detail. How to kiss your partner; to arouse him, excite him [if he's not already excited] and make him want you .

Our second attempt is better by some way as I feel his tongue against mine, sliding and pushing mine about.

The third go is better still. Wonderfully messy as I grip his mouth with mine. We'll need to be careful that all this won't show later.

It's working nicely elsewhere too. I have nothing on bar my tee shirt, Lael just in those delectable unisex knicker things; quite thick material like towelling almost, with heavy prominent seams that show nicely through the boy's shorts, a very sexy feature that excites boys like me. The sort of thing that makes you walk behind a boy, and enjoy, and remember the neat bottom you saw, hands in pockets and stretched around tightly, and for future reference, to whom it belonged.

I'm stroking Lael's back now, gradually advancing south until my hands reach the waistband of his pants. I go lower still and feel the soft material, finger tips creeping under those wide seams onto bare flesh. I feel the boy's buttocks tense and begin to move, and I can feel him against me. It's all working!

Robbie would have grabbed my hand and placed it firmly where he wanted it, and told me to get on with it.

' For fuck's sake Jon, just do it……please.'

Not sweet Lael. No. There's a rhythm getting under way now, as I get bolder and push my finger deeper and between, and it's just the fabric that's preventing me from doing what I want. From going where I want to. It's a risk to touch a boy there, but there's no doubt in my mind. He likes it. There's no resistance. He will let me do anything. I'm sure of that now.

I take my boy by the hand and lead him into my room and onto the bed. I can't hear mum. I'm assuming she's in her bathroom. I don't care anymore.

As he eases my hand away, Lael turns onto his back and pulls my shoulders so that I'm lying on top of him now. His legs are wide apart and he's fully grown inside those blasted cute pants of his. He wants to keep them on. Interesting that. He wants me to fight him for it does he? On my elbows I naturally place myself so that we are together in the right place, my sex against his. Suddenly I'm understanding what he really wants. His body is moving like I imagine a girl's body would move as the boy rubs himself inside her, according to Robbie. Lael isn't seeing this as sex with another boy. For him this is ok; not a naughty thing; this is something he can allow himself to enjoy. A sort of half-way house to the real thing; something that thinks is a forbidden thing to do, not allowed, at least not yet until I grant him permission. But he knows he wants to, and will.

My first orgasm was this way, years ago now, I think, still half asleep and pushing myself into the mattress, my hands gripping the edges to gain more purchase. A couple of other boys told me they had it first that way too. There's tantalizing friction building as we both slip into a steady rhythm; a gentle grinding if you like, a very directed rubbing against one another in exactly the right place. Once we are precisely placed, we can make this nicely disguised naughtiness work for us both. And it is working. The kissing gets better and better; and more urgent now. I now know that Lael is queer, like me. There's no doubt in my mind that he is. My world is bathed in a new light that shines brightly in the gentle form of Lael, our golden Finn. A boy that wants a boy.

We stop kissing because there's this other thing to concentrate on. The movement is becoming frantic, almost, especially with Lael. He's in another world here. I'm on him in the perfect place it seems, and suddenly I'm aware that it might actually happen. I'm getting breathless with the sheer effort I'm putting in here. I'm thinking of Robbie now, oddly, and how I watch him when I can watch the fruit of my labour. It's always two fingers and a thumb. It has to be with him. He's a strong boy but small. Most of his rather short tool is a circumcision scar, apart from the obvious. Then out it all pops, three or four little cloudy white blobs of it, descending onto my thumb for disposal. I wish he would let me kiss him. That way he could have it back.

Lael suddenly becomes rigid and still, his fingernails digging into my back quite painfully. His breathing is very irregular now, and then just as suddenly, his body goes limp under me. I know what's happened. I'm not there, but he definitely is. I've tipped him over. I know that we will have a reaction soon, and of course I'm worried that he'll go on some sort of guilt trip like Robbie did that first time when he realised what he'd asked me to do for him, and how easily it worked. Less than one minute. But that lasted about five minutes as he realised just how good it felt. I was the mug who happened to be next door and willing to do it for him. The Book mentions a thing called fellatio, nicely illustrated to make sure we are in no doubt what it is. That word is the past participle of the latin verb fellare ; to suck; for your probably unwanted information. Right at the start of my duties I perform for Robbie, I hinted at this practice and he gave me such a look that I've never tried it on him. It's odd because he knows that I'm a queer boy, [he asked me and I told him] but he's perfectly happy to call upon my services; up to a point……so to speak.

Lael wants to kiss more after his moment, a good sign I think, as I resumed my activity . He doesn't seem to mind. I'm working myself on him now, but lower down where it feels softer, almost like a pillow. It's a lovely fit where I am now, and it's working for me. Lael is helping by kissing me deeper now. Deep inside me, it's all rising and I'm coming up to the boil. I'm now absolutely certain, in few more seconds, it will all boil over. I'm hooked inside his knickers and I can feel the moistured skin at blood heat.

Like pants the hart in cooling stream. Very apt words I think. A cooling stream in Lael's pants? Yes, perfectly apt. 'I'm wet.' He says. And so he is. On my knees now, it's time to carefully remove the object. What I see now I'm falling in love with, just lying there, open to the world, smooth and perfect, richly deserving of my praise, three sexual objects, one place , all here and now, so close for me to enjoy. There's just the faintest odour pervading the warm air; his and my sexual perfume.

I look at the clock. Getting up time already. We haven't spoken yet. No need to. We both go together across the hall to the bathroom. Breakfast in fifteen minutes for Lael, and me too. Everything will be laid out on the table for us, as usual. But for Lael and I, things will be different now. Everything looks the same, but it's not the same. We are different now.

'You're very quiet this morning boys.' Remarks my mother as she brings in cold milk in the familiar blue and white jug. She pours a steady stream of the white liquid as Lael and I watch. We both recognize the visual jest. Lael shoots me a glance. I think about a smile but decide against it. I look back at Lael. There is the faintest smile there. All's well.

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