Remembering Ryan
by Rafael Henry
Chapter 6
Sara and David left for Bristol around ten this morning in the Volvo Estate car. Lucien made another mug of coffee and we sat at the kitchen table. He poured me an orange juice. The sun was pouring through the French windows, the pretty cottage style garden beyond full of valerian in shades of red, pink and white, some embedded in the tight slate walls.
'Will you miss David?'
'Maybe…….a bit.' I said, looking briefly at Lucien and then away through the window. I noticed how the flower stems of the thrift plants, perfect in May, now tight balls of dry foliage, faded into tiny grey shadows.
'You're very pretty. Did you know?' He says, one hand on the coffee mug.
'No, not really.' I say, smiling, quickly looking down.
'Well you are. Very. Stand up a moment please.' He says.
'Why?'
'So I can look at you properly.'
I stand up, and he looks.
Both of us are dressed in shorts, his white and heavier than mine; a boy's lightweight number, his with pockets like tennis shorts. Neither of us are wearing tops so I can see his quite hairy chest. Dark hairs in the middle and around his nipples. He has hair of his legs too, very brown legs and arms, and chest, and face. A nice face too. When he was changing on Porthcothan beach, I saw his bare bottom; just for a few moments. David saw me looking. There was hair between his buttocks. I kept looking. I remember thinking a thought. What does his penis look like? I didn't see it. It was just curiosity, that's all. I remember seeing my father's penis, just once. I looked, thinking that I didn't want to look, but I couldn't stop myself. I just had to know. Now I do. I just wanted to know what had made me. The actual thing itself.
I stood up in front of Lucien waiting until he tells me to sit down again.
'You stand nicely Simon. How tall are you now?'
'Five foot……something. I'm not sure.'
'Are you embarrassed by me?'
'No.'
'Not at all?'
'No.'
'You're a handsome boy Simon. You have a very beautiful body. Does that make you feel awkward; my telling you that?'
'No.'
'Do you sleep naked Simon?'
'Yes, usually, if it's warm enough.'
'Of course. Do you here?'
'Yes.'
'With David?'
'Yes.'
'It's a shame we have to wear clothes in the house; don't you think?'
I just look back at him.
'I'm only wearing these clothes in this house because you're here; our guest. Would it offend you Simon? My nudity?'
'No.'
'Not at all?'
'No.'
There's dark hair all around it. The thing itself is thick with a pale head. Lucien rinses out the coffee mug and my glass, and turns towards me. I'm still standing by the table.
'Are you shocked Simon?'
'No.' I answer, trying to smile. Of course I am shocked. I have only seen a nude adult male once before, albeit for a second or two, or a female either, come to that. David has hair now, but not like that . No, his is soft and pale; and rather nice. I keep the tiny amount I have at bay. I like being thirteen and rather want to stay that way.
Lucien and I waited for the usual bus, the number 56 scheduled to arrive at 09.35, to take through the Cornish lanes past a couple of beaches with their wide expanses of pale sand and surf beyond. The bus was on time and let us and our full rucksacks off at Porthcothan Bay, a half hour journey. Lucien wanted a coffee at the small wooden shack just before the sandy path leads up the dunes and onto the beach unwashed by the tide. When it came, hot water poured into a blue mug primed with what he called 'instant', he declared it undrinkable and poured it away into the grimy sand just outside.
'Usual place Simon?'
I nodded, looking across to the far side, the eastern side, which got more sun, and more wind too if the prevailing south westerlies were still going. With the tide still going down, we opted for a space a ten-minute walk across the stream of fresh water off the hills and along the smoothed igneous rock formations that would provide convenient shelter and not-so-uncomfortable sitting positions from which to observe the comings and goings of the other like-minded holiday folk.
Lucien organized the waterproof sheet-cum-blanket in a large rectangle on the dry sand. Apart from one or two figures on the opposite side of the beach, we were alone, so changing was not the usual delicate business of hiding behind a towel whilst underpants fell to one's feet and, bent over, the tricky task of pulling up swimming togs began. Effectively hidden now behind an outcrop of black slate, Lucien could look at my naked body just as I could look at his.
Lucien slowly shakes his head.
'You're really are.'
'Are what?' I ask, consciously smiling back.
'You know. You know perfectly well.'
I looked down as he hands me my swimming briefs. Lucien turns, and bends almost double to find his. I look again. I suppose we are all the same there.
'Come on.' He says, holding out his hand. I take it which surprises me. My hand feels small in his tight hold on me. I'm not really noticing anything as we walk towards the sea, just his hold on me. Do I want him to release my hand, or not? Not. We walk on and I begin to understand this new reality in this day of my life.
I jumped into his arms. He held me tightly as I did him, my arms around his strong back, muscled, tense and hard. I can feel his breath on my neck. I hold on tightly so I don't slide down his body. His hands support me now, underneath, and I continue to cling onto him. His hands are there, just like all the other times. They feel strong and good. I cling on tighter. His hands are still there underneath me. Don't let go please. Please don't; not yet.
And then he does, very slowly, so gradually, as I gently slide down his body until we meet. There it is, mine against his. I can feel it against me as my legs straighten. It's not the same just like I'm not the same. In an instant I know more about Lucien just as he knows more about me.
My feet feel the cool sand again as his fingers move through my hair. He strokes my back tenderly as I breath deeper still. I put my arms around his hips as he pulls me tighter into him. I can feel him again; against my stomach. Low down. The stroking goes on, up and down, up and down, and then lower still. It's where he held me before. The stroking. The warm hands against my skin.
He walked me back, his hand in mine. More people about now but that won't matter. Not where we are. They won't see.
We're lying together, Lucien and I, face to face. A large beach towel covers us. He wants to know about me and David. I told him.
'Is that everything Simon?'
'Not quite.'
'What else then?'
I told him.
'Good. But now that's over?'
'Yes, more or less.'
'But you're sleeping in the same bed here, at the cottage.'
'Yes, but it's different now. Obviously.'
'Are you missing that?'
'Yes of course, but I understand. I understand it all.'
'Do you?'
'Yes.'
'Do you understand me Simon?'
'I think so.'
'And do you think that's wrong? The way I think? The way I think about you?'
'No.'
'I'm David's father. I'm thinking about you the way he did, perhaps?'
'No, you think about me the way you want to. You're you , not him. It's different.'
'I know I'm not allowed to think about you in certain ways.'
'So, do you?'
'Yes of course I do. Do you mind that?'
'No. You're entitled to think what you like.'
'I am thinking it Simon.'
The front seats on the double-decker bus back to Padstow were already taken by a group of noisy teenagers so we sat together towards the back. I could feel his warm leg against mine. About fifteen minutes to go. Then the walk along the lane to our cottage on Fentonluna Lane.
He took my hand and led me into the bedroom. Then he undressed me, tee shirt first. He strokes my bare chest, arms, my neck and then my face. It's like being washed as I move my head this way and that. Shorts next, just an elasticated waistband, down my thighs.
As I entered puberty, things obviously changed. One of the new anatomical features was the apparent shortening of my prepuce caused by the enlarging of everything else. Lucien doesn't have one. As I look down now it's retracting, all on it's own as the rest of it grows. How clever of it.
I reckon I'm five foot six compared to Lucien's six foot and a bit. With my lean and rather spare build, he can pick me up as easy as you like. He's strong. That's very obvious. You only have to look at him.
It was awkward on the bus back to Padstow. I let him touch me gently, so lightly, which aroused him, and me. He told me that he enjoyed the best of both worlds and that I had interested him ever since the first time I was invited by David back to their home, some four years ago now. I can see it all now, those hours on the beach, being chased and caught as we laughed. Jumping into Lucien's arms. Where his hands were. Where they had to be to support our bodies; my body. What I felt as he let me slide down his front. My penis against his. How many times was that? How he would hold me there, and how I liked it.
'Hold onto me……please.' I ask quietly.
So he did, for ages, him against me.
'Lift me up again!'
So he does, and I slide down him again. That feeling again.
'I don't want to impose on you Simon. So……..if enough is enough? Just tell me. You will won't you?'
'Yes of course. You've been very kind to me.'
'It was always my pleasure Simon. I'm not seeking anything. I never would. I wouldn't want anything from you.'
'Then, what?'
'To show you affection. It's a kind of love my dear boy. Simple love. It's for a reason Si. Can you guess?'
I smiled and touched him, very gently.
'I can't see you.'
He lowered his underpants, nice ones too. Sexy. I looked at his penis and imagined how it might feel inside me and how impossible that was. David's not like that.
'Well?
I touched it.
I talked about Ryan and the most intimate tasks I had to perform for him every day, and how much the boy had appeared to enjoy my ministrations, as I was enjoying Lucien's attention. Improper? Perhaps some would think so.
Lucien kissed me for the first time. He went deeper and I broke away briefly.
'Sorry. Is that ok Simon? It's not is it?'
I nodded. I don't know what I'm thinking.
Lucien's playing with my hair, my ears, my neck. It's just like when I fell and he caught me in his arms, but then we were vertical. Lucien goes on playing with me. I look at the travel clock on the bedside table. Ten past three.
Half past three. I'm on my back with my head sideways on the pillow. It smells of Lucien. His musky scent. I can smell the sea on his skin from when we bathed. When we jumped through the surf on Porthcothan beach, and laughed together. He pulls my head up to his and he kisses me gently, like a father might kiss his son in a moment of deep affection. Pure love. Then I look back at him. I want to see his face just like I always want to see David's. I'm his girl now, panties down for him, just as he orders me.
'Put these on Simon.' He goes. So I do. Never face to face now. Not my face any more, a boy's face. Too many reminders. No, imagine I'm a girl now David. Girls want it this way.
In a way this is better than with David. It's as certain as night follows day. Where's Ryan now? I wish he was here now. But he is here. In my head and in my heart.
I turn the boy around and adjust his pants around his buttocks. There, perfect. I turn him round again so I can see the result. He's become firm and upright. Beautiful. He shows me, in one hand offering himself to my face. To my mouth and lips. He lies back on the bed as I kneel between his lovely legs, smooth and lean. Ryan is such a responsive boy.
Lucien is lying beside me, still. I can smell the heat of his body. I'm thinking about the last hour with him. He's done nothing wrong, not really.
We had dinner out. As we walked up the hill and along Fentonluna…….
'Will you sleep in my bed tonight Simon?'
'Yes of course. If you really want me to.'
'Good. I want you close to me. All night.'
'What about the morning?' I joke.
'Then too; if you didn't mind?'
I laughed. I don't mind at all.
There's a clothes line in the garden. Lucien has just pegged out a few things that we wore today, or rather what I wore. When I got dressed just after half past three this afternoon I felt good. A strange energized feeling perhaps. Half an hour later I had to tell Lucien about it.
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