The Persistence of Memory
by Rafael Henry
Chapter 2
I know Garth had a collection of 'man mags', and it was men, hunky young ones, and late teens by the look of them. Not boys. Pity. Aged twelve I would have found that much more to my taste. But I was way too young to contemplate an outpouring, several times and at some speed, of what a real man could produce. No thanks, I had heard what it's like. Pretty nasty. My friend Matt had claimed to have seen his much older brother do it in front of him one night in his bedroom. His big brother had asked him to finish him off . Matt didn't know what he meant by those words but he soon found out. Matt said it was pretty disgusting stuff, but even then I was fascinated by the prospect of a boy doing that for another. Matt was asked if he got a hard-on during his interaction with his big brother.
'Yeah! Of course I did.'
Hmm. I thought Matt might be worth getting to know better.
Garth caught me looking at one of those magazines. He wouldn't have been taken aback by that, and he wasn't. The particular image my eyes had come to rest upon was of two of the men, or late teen boys more likely, engaged in a coupling act. The one on top was poised and about to insert his dick in the other one's bottom by the look of things, the lengthy penis obviously very generously lubricated and shiny.
'What's that stuff Garth, all over his willy?' I asked, already suspecting the nature and purpose of what is in the tube he gave me a few days before, and the little present . I had tried both, as directed by common sense, and I have to say good fun was had.
'It's a lubricant my dear boy. Oils the wheels. Very necessary for comfortable humping. You'll see when your time comes, but not for a few years yet I trust. Good to wait for nice things to happen darling. Do you want to see some?'
He showed me.
'Put a little bit between your fingers? That should give you the idea.'
Why not? I then knew how useful that stuff could be. Or as he suggested, will be a few minutes later. It was.
Garth had given me the mini replica penis with balls attached so it couldn't disappear into my bottom, something I had heard can happen to over enthusiastic users. Lose a small object up there and end up in casualty having the thing painfully extracted? No, not really my cup of tea. Imagine the embarrassment having to explain the reason for my visit. Ball point pens, pencils and various other small objects have had to be extracted from boys' [and probably girls too] bottoms over the years according to Garth. This object was made of a clear substance and slightly flexible. I tried sucking the head first which excited me. I tried to imagine it belonging to a very attractive boy I'd seen at school recently dressed in very dinky tight short trousers most of the way up his thighs that very nearly showed me his knickers. Rather nice. But what if that boy I had in mind wanted to do it to me? I had the means right here in my hand, so I spread an amount of the gel all over my four-inch long kinderkock, to use Garth's terminology, and a bit more around the entrance to my bottom, and a bit more just inside. I was now ready for some action!
Lying on my bed, I lowered my shorts and my cute brief cotton panties [I'm feeling very queer this morning] down my legs to get everything out of harm's way, then offer the object up to my tight opening back there and push a bit. No chance. Apply the rather messy clear stuff to the said object, smear it around the bulbous head end, then another dollop on the tip of one finger and apply to warm skin, very centrally; and push it all in. It's tight, but it goes in ok. Right, now for it. Easy peasy! In goes the boy cock as easy as you like, once I had got the thing past the first obstacle. Gradually the tight ring gives way and my dream boy is in me right up to the hilt. Believe me, this feels good, as the boy's breathing gets louder. Now to start wobbling it about a bit, and some in-out action won't go amiss either, not to mention a brand new fantasy I've concocted for the occasion.
The boy was kneeling on the bed between my legs still with his pants on. Nice ones they are too. Very sexy, with his stiff mini peen pushing the front of the ultra-smooth pale blue fabric out. I'm waiting. Then, slowly, all is revealed and I can see what's coming my way, very soon hopefully. With my legs held back as far as I can get them, the boy moves forward supported on one hand and I can feel him pushing against me, his other hand holding his mini tool, foreskin rolled back to reveal the dark red shining head, so as to line it up into position. And then I feel the pressure against the very epicentre of my grateful kinderwhatnot. Ooh! Any moment now it will give way and……..
It took a few more gentle pushes to get the thing in properly through the first door that was reluctant to open, in other words up far enough, a very pleasant sensation as one imagined that playground boy doing it for real, but after about ten minutes of thinking that nothing was going to happen and how disappointing that would be, I began to feel slightly odd, not in any specific place but generally in the centre of my body, low down. I noticed that my penis had become almost painfully hard and made these sudden little jerks although I wasn't touching it. It felt pretty good so far, so I continued although my hand was getting tired by this time. The strange feeling in my tummy got stronger and the position of the sensation had changed too, becoming more centralized in the area between my balls and my anus. I gave it a rest for a few moments while my penis twitched this way and that. Giving it a squeeze from the base to the tip, a clear bead of whatever it was emerged. I touched it with the tip of my finger and extruded a long strand of this clear substance, and then put it to my tongue. It tasted of not much apart from a very pleasant and very slightly sweet taste. My hand recovered now, I could resume the other activity. Again the same sensation gradually came back, but a little stronger this time. It wasn't a quick process by any means. The whole experience was building up into some sort of excruciatingly deep pleasure. It was a very slow welling up sort of feeling, and totally different to the normal sensation that was always centred within the end of my penis. By this time I wasn't going to stop the inevitable conclusion I knew would come eventually and I just let it happen. It was scary but I could not stop it. It was too late. Then, quite suddenly I could feel very rapid pulses in some sort of central part of me, not my penis or my anus, but deep inside somewhere else in that area. Is this what happens when you have proper sex with a boy? I sincerely hope so.
It took me a good five minutes to recover and to wipe more of that clear liquid from my quivering kinderkock which had dribbled down my still painfully hard penis. That evening I went to Garth and told him what had happened.
'That thing you gave me.' I said, feeling triumphant.
'Oh yes? Have you tried it?'
'Yes.'
'And?'
I told him what had happened.
'Oh you lucky boy! I'm surprised that happened with you. So junge mein kind!' Was his response as he walked off into the kitchen holding the tea towel and plate.
If I need to know anything, Garth is my go-to supplier of vital information every embryonic homosexual boy should know, even now, years later at my present grand old age of seventeen. I never felt uncomfortable with Garth and all our intimate chats and other goings on. But he's a man's man, and not interested in boys. One bright morning in the garden I asked him how he and my father met.
'In church. The big one in Peterborough. You know it well enough. I had got involved with them making myself useful in various unpaid ways and started going to services. Your father had an office there and went on Sunday mornings. He was their accountant. I was fifteen and he was twenty-five. I think. Yes, twenty-five. I had caught his eye sometime before that day. He told me that later. They would serve coffee after the service, Sunday mattins. I had the painful and dreadful split from my father who had threatened to chase me over here from Germany. I had left home with nowhere to go but luckily I had a bed at Tristram's place down the Lincoln Road but I needed to leave there. I knew I couldn't stay there for ever. I got talking to your dad after the service. He came over to me with a plate of biscuits and offered me one. He asked me a few questions. I absolutely knew he liked me. You just know these things when it happens. I told him I hated the hotel work I was doing and needed a better place to live and that I felt very lonely and needed someone's help. We got talking and when everyone started leaving, he asked me if I wanted some lunch. He took me back to his flat in a lovely house in the Cathedral Close he was renting from the Dean and Chapter. You needed your very smelly nappy changing so I watched while he did it, and learnt. I did the next one a couple of hours later.'
'Oh. So you stayed there a while then?'
'Yes. After lunch he asked me if I wanted to hang around for a while. I said I would like to so I could get to know baby Alex a bit better. He said he always lay down with him, you that is, for an hour after lunch and you'd have your nap. He never had a nanny at weekends. Did I want to join him and the baby? We would get into bed fully clothed would we? No.
Sean lay you down in the middle of the bed naked except for a fresh disposable nappy and then got undressed down to his pants, so naturally I followed suit. We had the baby between us with both of us giving your body a nice stroking. Slowly your eyes began to close and then you were gone. You looked absolutely gorgeous. Perfect. I looked at your father who had turned onto his side facing me. He looked upset.'
'Do you think we can move him?'
'Oh yes. He won't wake up for an hour.'
'Sean lifted you up very carefully and laid you down again, leaving us close together. We looked at each other for a couple of minutes, both of us wondering what to do next. While the covers were off us I had a look downwards. That told me what I wanted to know. We were about to become lovers. When he left you fast asleep on the bed, I could see he was ready for something but I didn't know quite what. He led me into the living room and we faced each other. I just put my hands around his head and began to kiss him. He responded beautifully as we pushed against each other, and then we dropped to our knees and ended up on this shag piled rug, appropriately enough. We went on kissing like there was no tomorrow, with my hand around his penis. You probably know he's a good fist full and I had a good grip on him and started rubbing him up. He's never been a very regular masturbator so within a couple minutes he'd sprayed me with…….well, you know what with. I just lay on top of him, laughing, which broke the ice completely. I'm sure we were already in love by then. He rolled me onto my back and pleasured me in the best way possible, but not you know what . The other way. That came in the evening after you were safely in your cot and asleep again. That was sheer bliss. Neither of us had had any joy for quite a while and we took it slowly as we looked at each other in the eyes. Fifteen minutes of sheer bliss Alex. And then it was over. I had given your father the best time I could, very unselfishly. He recognized that and granted me relief very nicely as I gave him everything I had in me. I was overflowing so that didn't take long. We showered and Sean made some dinner and I agreed to look after you thereafter on any terms I he wanted, you darling boy. I had found two people to love, all in one day. I prayed very hard that it would happen one day, and it did. So here I am. Do you think you felt loved?'
'Oh yes. Oh yes, I did, and I still do.'
'Good. Things developed rapidly after that. He didn't want me working at that hotel. I was quite good at maths so to start with your dad suggested I look into accountancy as a possible career. I did all of the looking after you. I got to know a lot about you Alex, and those nasty habits of yours. You pee'd straight into my face one morning, that's when you weren't playing with it. I had you potty trained quite early and it was a great joy to both of us as you stood in your very first pair of those tiny little pants, now free to get your little hand inside and fiddle. It was your go-to plaything and kept you amused for ages. We used to watch you on the carpet fiddling away absentmindedly. You had a very nice one Alex, when you got it excited.'
'Tiny?'
'What would you expect? Yes, small but perfectly formed. We used to say that one day you would get the idea properly! We reckoned that you would be pulling the trigger before your tenth birthday. Was I right?'
'Hmm, about then. Maybe earlier than that. Eight?' I said, laughing. It was more like ten in fact. Probably. I don't remember the exact moment.
'That wouldn't surprise me one bit.' He said. 'And going strong now I assume?'
'Pretty good thanks, but not quite up to your standard of production no doubt, sadly.' I replied with tongue in cheek.
'Not yet dear boy. But there's plenty of time. I knew you had potential right from the start judging by………..'
'By what?' I demanded.
'Well, you were quite a forward young man.'
'What does that mean?'
'Bath time dear boy.'
'Oh. What about it?'
'You always insisted I wash you, even when you could have easily managed it yourself. You used to get onto all fours for me.'
'Oh did I! Gosh. What about my front bits? Those too I suppose?'
'Oh yes. Shall we say you enjoyed your bath time. But I knew I had to say no eventually.'
'When was that then?
'Your ninth's birthday. Actually the day after. That was the last day I got you out of the bath for your rub down. A bit of a sad day for me really, knowing there was one more thing you wouldn't need me for. You were a picture standing there smiling away and quite oblivious.'
It was the warmth of the water. It felt like a comforting blanket around me, and the thought of what was to come when the big towel was wrapped around me just before he dried me as I stood there. I knew he was proud of me. How I looked forward to my rub down every night. Garth would carry me to my bedroom and get me into my night clothes, tuck me up with a goodnight kiss, and read something to me or just talk for a while as I fiddled under the blankets.
That conversation was a while ago now, but our talks, amusing as they were, linger in the memory. No wonder he agreed that the bereaved Duncan should find refuge here at Morwenna House, in our village that rejoices in it's plague name, Poverty S. Erth. How good is that?
Duncan asked his father if he could see his granny one last time before her cremation. He cried on the 'phone, poor boy, bringing tears to our eyes too. It's all excruciatingly sad, this thing.
Monday afternoon at 4.30. The appointment at the funeral directors. Garth said he'd come with us. I'm not really dreading this thing because Duncan needs us so badly, and he's so brave to go through with it. I'm not sure I'd want to look a dead body in the face.
Garth took Duncan into the room where Elspeth lay in her coffin with just her head visible, and her arms too, her hands laid one over the other, her hair combed and her face looking perfectly normal. She just looked like she was sleeping. I had to leave I'm ashamed to say, as Duncan wept once more. Mortified that I have proved myself a complete coward, I asked if I might be let in again. Garth had Duncan in his arms. I went up to the two of them and joined in, utterly ashamed of my cowardice.
We were in there some ten minutes, a long ten minutes it was too.
'I think that's enough now Duncan. Are you ready now?' Says Garth quietly. Duncan nods, putting up one hand as if to wave, he says….. bye bye granny. I love you. It was unbearably sad . Duncan and I were a mess, but dear Garth was a complete brick. I don't know what we would have done without him. That's so typical of Garth. The funeral director sat us down in a nearby private room complete with a huge vase of flowers. I'm sure he was affected too. Who wouldn't have been.
You brave sweet boy, Duncan. You have done everything Elspeth could have possibly wished for. I wonder if she heard those words from her grandson? I hope she did. Godspeed and a safe journey Elspeth. It's strange how one can feel you know a person even after their death.
What none us knew was her role for many years at Truro cathedral as a volunteer greeter, which qualified her for a funeral service there, previously requested and agreed. It was not to be in the main body of the church, but in a side aisle that was the original parish church. she was christened in there and attended as a girl and later on too. When the cathedral was more or less finished around 1887, part of the old parish church was incorporated into the new building.
I'm not going to say too much about the funeral service, eight days later after Duncan's viewing of Elspeth's mortal remains, apart from the fact that it was a joyful occasion. Duncan had done all his crying, as we had done with him. There was a depleted choir, maybe six boy choristers and another six men who sang some pieces selected by Elspeth herself. A couple of well-known hymns and a hastily prepared anthem by Rutter. Peter, Duncan's father, read out a eulogy, and his sister Ruth repeated, not very confidently, some appropriate prayers. The body was taken to Truro's crem for disposal, all rather an anti-climax after the drama of the 'viewing' I have to say. Duncan was not spared the trip to the crem. Elspeth was all done and in the process of being reduced to ashes inside half an hour. Garth had helped Duncan dress for the occasion. School blazer, pale blue shirt and pressed new grey long trousers. New black shoes, polished, and a dark blue tie. I watched Garth comb Duncan's hair rather lovingly, me on the edge of tears yet again. They were very loving and tender moments.
'Granny's gone up now so we can be happy again.' Duncan says, quite rightly, and brightly. If Elspeth wanted anything in the world, it would be Duncan's happiness.
With precious few venues to choose from, the wake was in one of the less expensive hotels in the city. Peter thanked everyone for coming, and that was it. After a shortish meeting with his father and other relatives, Duncan was in the car heading back with us to Morwenna. Good. That's over and there's school tomorrow.
That night, with the exhausted Duncan all tucked up and asleep in his own bed in one of the spare rooms, I sat in the drawing room with Garth. Neither of us wanted to watch any television so we got chatting about the day.
'I'm worried about Duncan.' I said, trotting out the old cliché.
'Why?' Garth replies.
'He needs a mate, badly.'
'He has you Alex?'
'I know, but he wants someone more his own age.'
'But you love him. We can all see that. It stands out a mile. Ok, he's a lot younger but that's not too unusual.'
'I'm seventeen Garth. And does it stand out a mile?'
We laughed, but behind all that was an intense desire to have him close to me in my bed and indulge myself with him, compliant and loving, enjoying our mutual endless orgasms. But that would have been unforgiveable, as much as I wanted it. And oh boy, did I want it.
'It's not a hundred per cent platonic is it? You and Duncan.'
'No, if I'm honest. All the more reason for him to find someone, and quickly. I'm feeling I can't trust myself with him. It's the look in his pretty eyes. They are telling me Garth. I've no doubt about it. It's driving me mad.'
'I agree. What about the gardener's boy?'
'The golden mole?'
'Yes. Der goldjunge.'
Looking back again, I was eleven and a half at the time, waiting anxiously to start my secondary school career at S. Endellion. I'd hinted to my father a long time before that I would like to go where he went as a boy. He told me that he'd already thought of it, but didn't want to impose that kind of life on me, away from my home for a large part of my year. I said it would suit me perfectly, not that I knew. It was just a lucky guess. My father was making very good money as his firm's newly appointed Chief Accountant and could well afford it. So that was it.
A month before I was to be transported down to Cornwall, he'd tried to deliver 'the talk' that all boys and girls should get from their parents, usually an awkward job left for the mother to deal with. I now realise that any boy being packed off to board should be made aware of the conditions in those places, and the kind of problems they might encounter.
'Darling, I thought we should sit down together and have a talk .'
Oh no! Not that please. I had no mother, so my father had a go, but quickly passed the responsibility on to Garth, his partner of some years now, a person in whom I trusted completely and who had done most of my parenting by all accounts.
'Your bath's run Alex. I'll be with you in a minute. I need to talk to you.'
'What about?'
'Sex mein kind. You had better know before Endellion grabs you.'
I lay on my back in the bath tub waiting, and joyful. Garth hadn't been with me as I bathed for two or three years now, but this was the moment I had been waiting for. I'd read the book, two in fact, given to me by my father, which proved very inadequate when it came to the gay stuff. Just one page of faffy non-specific very coy and useless advice. I knew I'd get the full monty from Garth.
'It's an all-boys boarding school Alex. You're going to come up against it sooner or later, so you need to be prepared.'
'Come up against it?' I asked with a smile.
'Yes. Boys that age usually want sex. You're very attractive mein kind, as you well know. How would you feel if a boy asked you if he might play with you in a certain way ? Do you understand that question?'
'Yes.'
'And?'
'It would depend.'
'On what?'
'Whether I liked him?'
'That's a good start. It might come from an older boy. Even a much older boy. What then?'
'I would say no.'
'Good.'
'But it would be ok with someone my age wouldn't it?'
'Yes, I think so but most people would not agree. But if it was consensual.'
'What's that?'
'That you had thought about it together and agreed that's what you both want. And only somewhere very private.'
'Did you do it?'
'Yes I did, sometimes, but it could get you into serious trouble.'
'Did that happen to you?'
'Yes, but that's another story.'
'Will you tell me?'
'Maybe, some other time. Yes I will. May we assume you've acquired the art by now?'
'Uhuh.' I nodded.
'Do you enjoy it?'
'Yes. Do you do it?'
'Not very often. I have your father. How do you do it?'
'With my hand. How else would you do it?'
No answer to that one, but I had a few ideas.
'The thing is Alex, when you think something might start between you and your friend, you need to be careful. You mustn't do anything he doesn't want you to do. Not ever. Talk about it first.'
'How?'
'May I put my hand on your shoulder?'
How dull. I want to know about the good stuff please. I had seen it in a magazine I found.
'How else can you do it Garth?'
'More than one way, mein kind. Do you think you really need to know?'
'That's the point of this isn't it? So I know? Anyway I've seen it in a magazine.'
'Have you indeed?'
'Yes. A man had his friend's willy in his mouth. How do you do that?'
As if I didn't know, but Garth will surely elaborate.
'It's called oral sex, with an 'o', not an 'a'. You'd rather not get anything in your ear mein kind.'
We laughed. I suppose even that might be quite fun.
'Would I go deaf? So how , exactly? Is it this part?' I ask as I lie back in my bath, pointing to the back of my now slightly swollen penis.
I got a rather tame instructional lecture on how to fellate another boy, most of which I wasn't aware of. The use of the tongue for example, and exactly where to put it where the nerve endings are concentrated, and how to move it around and up and down for the best results.
'Yes. Just there Alex. That's the most sensitive part. Right there. But just some of the time. Use your whole mouth as well as your lips and tongue. If he's small you can try getting everything in your mouth. He'll love that. But by this time he has probably told you that's what he'd like you to do for him. He might want to do it for you too. But you will not do anything he doesn't want you to do. Boys can be very touchy about their bottoms. Some will love being touched back there, but others will take exception. Understood?'
'How long does it take?'
'As long as you want. Things probably won't work out right the first time you try. It may be several times before it works for you or him, or never. He might just like the feel of it.'
'But what if he does……..you know……..get it?'
'If and when he does, don't pull away. Once you start, you must keep going until he tells you to stop, like pushing your head away.'
'What will it feel like?'
'That will depend on how old he is. How sexually developed he is. If he's capable, it will feel like some warm salty tasting liquid in your mouth. Just keep it in there until he tells you he's had enough. Don't suddenly pull away when you feel him come. That will annoy him.'
'Do you swallow it?'
'If you want to. Some boys like to kiss immediately after so he can pass it back to you. Share it. It's up to you mein kind.'
'Do you like that stuff?'
'Yes, I love it.'
'Do you make a lot of it?'
'Yes, quite a lot.'
Then we moved on to bottoms.
'Bottoms are a bit more complicated. You have to be very careful about that area. Talk about it first and make sure he's comfortable about being touched there. If you make assumptions you could land yourself in trouble, but if he wants you to, you could enter another world of delights Alex. And of course the other way around.'
'Does it hurt?'
'No, not if you go about it correctly. Especially boys of your age who are physically smaller down there.'
'Is that me?' I said, knowing there is a huge difference between Garth and me.
'Because you're smaller mein kind, it would be easy.'
And other questions of that ilk, Garth would answer everything. What more was there to know? In theory, not a vast amount, but theory is a bit different to practice, or can be.
I went to bed that night wondering, and very excited. In three days time I would be off to my new school in Cornwall and quite unprepared in practical terms.
Boys are sent away to school with what is known as a trunk, a large box essentially, about five feet long and two and a half feet wide, strengthened by several wooden bands that ran around the thing to protect it from damage during a train journey, for example. It would contain a boy's clothes mainly, plus any other items he was allowed to bring to his school, like a soft toy to give him some company and comfort in bed and remind him of home, some books, black rugger boots, and anything else required, all typed up on a sheet to be followed exactly.
With the lid of the trunk open, I looked at the piles of items Garth has placed in it, all the larger items at the bottom and the small things on top like socks and underpants. The list required me to have six pairs of pants but Garth had provided me with more than that. Typical.
'You might need more Alex. I'd hate to think you ran short.'
I think he was as excited as I was, although still annoyed I was to leave him for the first time in my life. My surrogate daddy, mummy, and chief provider of all the things I should know to see me safely through the experience that was coming my way any day now, that has included some pretty comprehensive sex education.
'Do you think I'll make friends Garth?'
'I'm sure you will mein darling kind. You will. You will.' He says, squeezing my shoulders and planting a firm kiss on the top of my head.
All my clothes were spanking new. Everything. But I wanted a last look at myself, nude, in the long bedroom mirror in the bedroom Garth and my father shared. I stood there with Garth's hand on my shoulder looking at myself in the mirror. He was holding a pair of my new pants, waiting. My body is lightly tanned from the summer sun, fading now into early autumn. The brief shadow where swimming trunks had kept me decent is still there, the pale skin reflecting warm light. I touched my penis and then held it, looking down.
I can see Garth's face reflected in the long mirror, smiling. Tomorrow we leave for Truro.
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