The Persistence of Memory

by Rafael Henry

Chapter 12

So now Quintus knows the situation with Duncan and Robbie, and me, in our little nest of chicks at Morwenna House in the plague village of Poverty Saint Erth. And I know how deep a hole he's occupying currently and shockingly, in cahoots with the Headmaster, Dr Angus Simpson. A sharing of a common interest, and in Quintus's case, using the school community as the perfect resource. So what have we got going on here? Lots of interesting things that involve boys taking off their clothes, and all of it saved up for later scrutiny and enjoyment. And now we have a close relationship between two very handsome boys going on under my nose; well not literally under my nose. Robbie has come to stay with us.

That meeting in the park started it all off. The boy on the bike, one leg raised on the pedal, showing us that view all the way along the upper thigh, and onwards and upwards inside his play shorts, right up there . A lovely sight for Duncan to relish. The boy moves his leg left to right, and back again just to inadvertently ensure Duncan gets the idea properly, and he does get the idea. Just that tantalising sight of bare flesh and what hides, for now, the soft pale skinned object within. If you want this, you can have it Duncan, the boy is saying to him. Ok, I will have it.

The boy who is no longer pre-pubescent, and longing for the kind of friendship he is craving, and all the nice things that come with such a friendship. A chance to love and be loved, if that's possible. It is with Robbie, because he's at the edge, the edge of wanting and needing. He's Duncan's friend now, finding himself sleeping in the same big bed that squeaks when they do it. Or when Duncan does it to him. And when he does it to Duncan. Or when they do it together one on top of the other, his faced squashed into the pillow, his hands squishing the corners, waiting for his buddy to come. Neither of the boys are remotely concerned about that squeaking bedspring, thank goodness. He doesn't have to wait too long before he does. Duncan's coming now, as Robbie sees in his mind what he's seen for real a few times now, what Duncan's leaving deep inside his kinderkunt, how Duncan's kindersamen shoots out in wavy lines of silver light, and lands on him, in little streaks of warmth on his tummy. And then he feels it with his finger tips, and marvels at the beauty of his friend's face. The sheer beauty of it, as he looks down at him. It makes him want to cry, the love is just so strong. I'm his and he's mine. All mine.

Garth gave me a new tube of what he calls 'the necessary', just in case I got lucky unexpectedly on one of my evening jaunts into a Truro pub. And a 'packet of three' of course, the most vital piece of kit in these dangerous times to safely contain all the mannsamen coming my way, with any luck.

'Don't get caught out Alex. Be prepared.' He says for the umpteenth time as I'm about to leave Morwenna House in my tight jeans with nothing underneath, and white tee shirt…….and a pair of white trainers.

The boys have had 'the talk' from me, more than once, due to the same questions cropping up again and again. I got 'the talk' enough times from Garth when I needed to know the details that would make my friendships go with a swing. It's a case of knowing how to do things properly which will result in the maximum fulfilment for both of us like-minded little boys up for playing with each other's kinderkocks. How to undo things efficiently……

'And find out if he likes kissing. That's terribly important Alex. Put an arm around him if he seems keen, and then give him a good stare and get your face close to his. If he moves towards you, just go for it and gently, very gently put your mouth on his and then lift off him. Look at him again and smile, and then go back onto him again. At the same time lower your hand onto his bottom and start moving around there from one buttock to the other, gently pulling at the same time. That should get the kissing going nicely if he's keen. You'll be hard by this time, knowing you, so make sure he knows you are by pulling him into you so he can feel it, and with luck, you'll feel him too. If he is, use your other hand to check him out at the front. If he likes that, you're in. Assuming you're somewhere private, get him undone down there and feel him in his pants, outside, not inside, yet. Make sure you're undone too so he can feel you. Have fun.'

That was very sound advice which I followed to the letter when I began to find like-minded partners at S. Endellion School, my first experience of living away from home, tricky to begin with, but in time it was my home from home as I found lonely boys who desperately needed love and comfort from others, and in so doing, deep sexual fulfilment. The first orgasms came fast and strong, pumping nothing out of our smooth and incredibly hard kinderkocks of various sizes, except a bead of clear sticky stuff. But that soon changed. Thinking back, what those unfortunate domestic staff had to deal with from sixty odd boys doing it like rabbits every morning and night and not caring where their kinderkum landed, doesn't bear contemplation. Some older boys inevitably got interested in the younger and sexually immature boys, as I was in my first year there. Roger's penis must have been twice the size of mine in all dimensions, the base of which was surrounded by thick dark pubic hair. Lying on his bed one afternoon after Games, it took both hands to bring him to orgasm as he guided my head into position half a minute before the inevitable eruption. That was quite a shock. I remember Roger asking, looking down at the pool of his semen I'd spat out onto his lovely smooth stomach…..

'Where did you learn to do that Alex?'

'Does it matter Rog, as long as you come?'

'No, I suppose it doesn't. Just thought I'd ask. You're fucking good at it. Jolly jolly fucking good!'

'Don't swear please Roger. It's rude.' I replied with a grin, as I began the wiping up process with my own hanky. Now that's service for you. The hanky remained in my pocket all that morning somewhat uncomfortably, being cold and very damp from Roger's effort previously. Never mind, all part of our colourful life here.

I never had any qualms about semen. I started gently as most boys do, and worked my way up from there. Wake up calls for prefects. One I had was eighteen, with what seems a monster, and monstrous consequences too. I handled that alright, having had some practice on one or two much younger brethren, some who could and some who couldn't. Don't get me wrong here, although I was, am, fairly highly sexed, I didn't consort with that many of the boys. Shall we call it a few? No more than that.

I went down to the bathroom and ran some warm water into one of the eight basins that sat in a row along one wall, and opened up my handkerchief I had kept in my fist since leaving Roger to recover from his ordeal. Putting the very damp article to my nose, I decided I liked the smell and taste of it, but less so, the texture, when one thinks of where it's come from. But there again, that's nice too. Where it's come from.

I have never tired of the taste of fox, a bishop once remarked. Nor have I of foxy boys' wine. I have recently begun to wonder about Quintus's particular vintage, and how soon that day will surely come?

Yes, Robbie has come to stay with us, sharing what was my bed but is now theirs. Duncan asked about the squeaking bed spring, and could it be stopped somehow.

'Anyway, would it matter Duncan, if I can hear it? We're not listening if that's what you're worried about.'

A bare faced lie.

'Oh. Can't you stop it somehow?'

'I don't think so sweetheart.'

I don't want to stop it as it happens. The boys are as regular as clockwork. They are off to bed after showering and some telly watching in their long tee shirts and nothing else, together on one of the two sofas. Cuddled up in bed now, it's not long before the squeaking resumes from when it left off this morning. Healthy boys with a burgeoning sex drive need to orgasm very regularly at that age. A fact that I know all too well. I'm in the next room now separated from the boys by a flimsy wooden partition wall through which sound travels like you're in there with them. I can easily hear their spoken words, needed as they decide on a course of action. Analverkehr requires a bit more planning and I don't know whether these two have ever attempted it. Probably they have by now. The squeaking doesn't really get going until whatever they're doing reaches the final stages when it gets quite frantic, accompanied by other delightful sound effects of a boy, or boys crossing the finishing line together, laughing and holding hands, metaphorically speaking. I have seen both boys nude, needless to say, as they are not worried if they are not completed covered as they watch TV together, so two pretty kinderkunts are often on view as they sit with knees up, or sideways on the sofa. And they will have other things on their minds too as bedtime approaches, cuddled up together. No touching is allowed downstairs, but that doesn't prevent private thoughts becoming extant through their erect penises as they get up off the sofa heading for the bedroom, and their night time fun together. I've thought of rigging up a more sophisticated means of 'listening in', but rejected the idea as an unreasonable invasion of the privacy the two boys deserve. They clearly love each other and what they do, or don't do, is their affair, not mine. At the end of the day, Duncan can't get Robbie pregnant. But he could do that to Robbie's sister Rosie. She comes round two or three times a week and spends time upstairs with the boys. It's very obvious that she still has the hots for Duncan. He's an accommodating kinder and if she's persuasive enough, he might be persuaded to try her madchenkunt for size, just as Anna persuaded me to try hers, very successfully.

'Just imagine it's a boy Alex.' Were her words, as she played with my sixteen-year-old jungepenis, and it worked for me. Not quite the same as a jungekunt felt in the good old days with Johnny back east in the 'Boro, but quite nice from the rear end, especially a very active rear end like hers. Pelvic floor exercises. Something to teach the boys? Anyway, she got it all out of me into her and the result was the lovely Eustace, which was exactly what she had planned to happen. I had been cleverly manipulated, but it has given me another human to love and cherish, not that I see him very often. I don't mind that really, simply because Anna is his mother.

I do feel a bit sorry for Rosie and if there's a menage-a-trois going on upstairs, then so be it, so long as it doesn't end up with a serious problem. Girls can be very cute when it comes to getting boys to do what they want them to do. A little intervention might be needed I think. I need to tell Duncan that if he has to give in to Rosie's demands, should she actually be demanding his attention, then her rear end should feel exactly the same as Robbie's, as the biology is identical. Do it, if you must, from the back rather than the front. The problem with that is it's not the same for her. She'll want him on top and in between, and deep, because she's fourteen and has never had the experience that her friend Harriet is getting regularly from her seventeen-year-old boyfriend, and she wants it, and Duncan is her boy. Or she'd like him to be, but he's not. He's a very gay boy who is in love with another. Alleluia!

We've kept up our regular chats, Duncan and I, concerning anything that's bothering him, how school is going, and how our new arrangement with Robbie is working out. I always start with Duncan's emotional life which currently is focussed on Robbie. How long all this will last is an unknown. As usual Duncan is forthcoming.

'It's great Alex. It's lovely to have a friend with me; you know, all night.'

'Why?'

He smiles at me because he knows what I'm thinking and he doesn't really want to say it. We're lying on my bed. Robbie has homework to do. This is a good time to talk.

'You look tired tonight. Looking forward to bedtime?'

'Umm.'

'Nicely cuddled up with Robbie?'

'Yes.'

'Not too tired to play together?' I say, running my fingers through his hair. He's fiddling outside his school trousers.

'No. Not too tired. Never too tired for that.'

'That's nice. Will he like it?'

'Yes. He always does. Do you want to know what we do?'

'Only if you want to tell me.'

'I do.'

'Now?'

'No not now. There's something else.'

'Ok. What's bothering you sweetheart?'

'Can I show you?'

'Of course.'

That is so erotic, when a boy undoes himself and shows you what he's made of. Duncan's looking the complete boy down there, and with a bit of twiddling, he has the beginnings of an erection.

'That was quick Duncan. I can't see a problem?'

'Robbie thinks it's weird. Not right.'

'What's not right?'

'What comes out when…….when…….'

'When you come?'

'Yes. He says it's weird.'

'That's because he doesn't know. Does he?'

'Yes, but it's different. His is all clear and a bit watery. He says mine is cloudy with bits in it. Can I show you sometime?'

'Yes of course you can if it's worrying you. It sounds perfectly normal to me, but yes, show me by all means.'

'When? Soon?'

'As soon as you like.'

'Tomorrow?'

'Tomorrow is fine.'

'Early morning? Before Robbie wakes up?'

'Yes. Just come in here. Do you want me to wake you?'

'Umm.'

'About six thirty then?

'Yes.'

I'm free this afternoon so I'm going to Quintus's flat again. We're going to go over some footage he's shot from the Junior production; all the on-stage and off-stage material he's gathered together.

He had one camera mounted exactly level with the stage which worked well, particularly, as far as we were concerned, when all the players sat cross-legged on the stage in one of the closing scenes, Duncan in the middle, with a couple of other boys dressed as he was, in short tunics, bare feet, girl's hairpieces, and some deftly applied makeup by Hillary. Three girls with penises look slightly bizarre, but nonetheless interesting.

'Parisien street urchins wouldn't possess any knickers Alex.' Quintus points out.

'Oh, that's handy then. Didn't they object?'

'Not at all. They all thought it was a good laugh. Don't forget that there are no parents present at a dress rehearsal. They'll have something underneath for the actual show. Nice aren't they?'

'Yes, very. How much more do you have?'

'Lots. Then there's all the stuff off-stage. You'll like that.'

Costume changing. Young boys looking at older boys and admiring what they can see. Older boys looking at younger boys admiring what they can see. Boys making mental notes. Two days later, Ross, eleven, meets Tristan, thirteen, in a corridor.

'Hi Ross. Did you enjoy the performance then?'

'Oh yes. Did you?'

'Very much. What was the best bit for you?'

'When we were changing. That was fun. I was next to you. Did you see me?'

'I did. Did you see me?'

'Yes.'

'What did you think?'

'I thought it was great. Really nice.'

'Good. I thought you were too. Really nice. What are you doing now?'

'Nothing much. What are you doing?'

'Oh, ditto. Do you want to go somewhere and talk for a bit?'

'Yes ok. Where?'

'Follow me. I know a good place.'

There you are, all sorted for Ross and Tristan.

They were the two boys nearest to Quintus's movie camera in the changing area backstage.

'Do you see how that kid's looking at the other boy Alex?'

'Absolutely. And then he's fiddling.'

'And the older boy has a look.'

'And he's a growing lad now.'

'Now the little kid looks for a bit longer.'

'Then he looks up at the other boy's face.'

'And then down again.'

'I think they might get together at some point in the future. Don't you?'

'I think they well might Quintus.'

And of course they did get together.

'And us. When are we going to get together again Alex?'

'You're worried aren't you Quintus. About what I know?'

'Should I be?'

'Well, I would be.'

'Your two, Duncan and Robbie. Can we talk about them?'

'If you so desire Quintus.'

'What do you want to know?'

'Everything really. What's happened in your life these past years. You've nobody special at the moment have you?'

'No. I haven't for ages now.'

'Is that tricky?'

'Yes. Very. But I'm focussed on Duncan and Robbie's wellbeing.'

'Sexual wellbeing?'

'Yes, that, after everything else.'

'So that's going well…….is it?'

'Seems to be. They're in love but they don't really know it in those terms, as we would.'

'Quite. And the sex? They are active presumably?'

'I imagine so. They sleep in the same double bed, mine as it happens. A bit squeaky at times.'

'So you listen in do you?'

'It's difficult not to if I'm honest. I need to know what's going on don't I? I'm finding it unbearably erotic.'

'Of course you do. And what is going on; exactly?'

'There's no definitive way of knowing, unless you're in the room with them, which I am not.'

'You could be. So could I.'

'How's that then?'

Quintus explained, but there's no way I'm doing that.

'Do they leave the door open Alex?'

'Ajar usually. It's a rule. No locked doors; or even closed doors. No one should have anything to hide.'

'So you can see in?'

'Yes I suppose so, but who would want to look in on something as private and intimate as that?' I asked, rather po faced, eyebrows raised, as I look into Quintus's face.

'Good grief boy. I think I need to draw a few deep breaths at this point. You could generate some nice new sculptures from that couldn't you? Just imagine the market for erotic art? Your work would be in huge demand.'

'From whom? A one-off piece maybe. My admirer in Arizona would be interested. Robert. I get messages from him asking if I've made any more.'

'He might be a millionaire for all you know.'

'Maybe but I'd like to keep him at arms-length if you don't mind.'

'Like me then? Or might we get just a little closer? Just for old time's sake? By the way I've found a few more I took of you when you weren't looking. Want to see?'

Quintus never touched me, but he certainly knew all about me, and when I say all, I mean all. A boy has to sleep, as I did at his house more than once, during that spell of warm weather in August with the window open and a cool breeze caressing my naked body lying uncovered on the pristine white sheet as I dreamt about what might have been between us. And then in the morning I wake to find him looking down at me, bare legged, dressed in his short white towelling dressing gown.

''They're good aren't they? Do you approve?'

'I do. Lovely.'

'And you're still lovely, just like you were then. Why won't you show me what you can do now?'

'What I couldn't do then?'

'Precisely. Come on, don't be shy.'

I find the idea of 'performing' quite interesting, but I'm not at all sure I need to perform for Quintus. He is charming and very handsome with all that blond hair swept back, and his sea green eyes. It's very tempting to let him do what he asking for. But that will just for starters with him. It won't end there. Before I know it, I'll be up to my neck with him. Well, perhaps not that far up me but quite a long way up me. I've seen the thing. It was enough to make my eyes water.

'Just a quick kiss then?'

'Nothing more please. Just that.'

'Ok. Just that. Come here.'

He put one hand behind my head and began to kiss me on my mouth. He's incredibly good at it I have to say. Boys are usually, or were with me at S. Endellions, useless at it, all slobber and no proper tongue play. Kissing is everything to me and gets me going in other places very quickly. It literally opens doors with me. Johnny loved it. As soon as we started, he'd have his legs open and was asking for it, which he got in spades. He was all dirty words and exciting sounds that made sex with him so wonderful as his head banged against the headboard of that old divan bed I had in my makeshift studio back east. The hardest thing was not to fill his sweet and smooth kinderkunt too soon as he was quite capable of an orgasm too, and did several times during sex. I always delayed while he played with his kinderkock so as to get himself closer, and then I would dive in once more and empty the contents of my fourteen-year-old seminal vesicles and give him all I could muster. Afterwards I'd stay glued into him, still erect and active, in the hopes I'd find the gift of his baby kinderkum between our tummies, with yet more delicious kisses. And the sounds going on throughout. With our lubricated bodies sliding over one another it was all totally divine. Garth never admitted to hearing us make love.

I can hear Duncan and Robbie enjoying each other's company in the squeaky bed together. Those unmistakeable rhythmic sounds, and then the silence as they lie together in each other's arms, as one, basking in the warming afterglow of their loving. What a lovely thought.

Quintus kissed me, and I kissed him back. Everyone knows what kissing back means. It means you're both enjoying the experience! He's kissed me before several times when I was at his house, but not like that. Never like that. Even then he could see my little three and a half inch kinderkock rise up almost vertical with the pleasure of it all. I was on my way to his bed, just in a tee shirt, alone. Whether he joined me during the night I shall never know. I'm sure he didn't. I would have known. Surely I would?

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