Alfie

Published on Jan 10, 2023

Gay

Alfie Chapter Three

A WARNING. This story is a work of fiction, and none of the characters or places described exist, and therefore bear no relation to anyone alive or dead. The story contains explicit details of a sexual nature and if this might offend you, please do not read it, or if in so doing you will break any law that applies to you wherever you may be.

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ALFIE by Rafael Henry

Chapter Three

Afterwards.

I can remember exactly what happened. Max got himself kneeling, and then leant just over me on one elbow, his left hand holding his penis poised and ready to penetrate me. I held my breath and I looked away and waited for the pain to begin. I felt the head pressing against my tightly closed anus. Max pushed a little against it, withdrew, and then pushed again. After half a dozen pushes, I felt the muscle start to relax and begin to accept Max's cock. It was gradual process. Max was right. It hurt just a little to start with, and my willy had shrunk to about the smallest I've seen it for years! I think it was the anticipation of Max's cock being stuck into my behind rather hard, but it wasn't anything like as bad as I thought it might be. He was really gentle with me all the way to the end, and what an `end' it was too! He must have put tons into me. He pushed a little harder into me, and then went back, and pushed again really slowly. He kept on doing that, and talking to me at the same time, saying lovely things to me. I'm sure that made me relax far quicker. My cock was still soft at this point, but not for long. The gel was working perfectly and the discomfort I had to start with gradually tailed off and it all began to feel quite nice. Suddenly his cock got past the bit he said would be the hard part...the first bit. After that it was easy as pie. He wasn't that far up me at all for the first five minutes or so, and that felt amazing. My cock had suddenly gone as stiff as your average poker! It was incredible...the feeling he was giving me. Yes, giving me. I started to pull my willy up and down. I don't think I was far from coming at that point, but Max told me to stop or I would come too soon. I didn't want to spoil it for Max so I stopped, but willy kept jerking about. I looked at it and there was some wet at the end. I had never had that before...just like Max got...the same stuff. We were both getting quite breathless by now. I was desperate for Max not to come. I wanted him to go on and on, for ever if possible! The feeling was getting better and better, with him not too far inside me. Max had told me that it might feel different to any other feeling I'd ever had, and he was right. It was different.

I remember thinking...I'm being fucked. That's what they call it...getting fucked. It's actually happening right now...I'm being fucked by a beautiful boy of seventeen who any minute now will fill me with his cum...warm creamy cum. I imagined it coming out of his cock in great spurts of warmth. I imagined it spraying over my tummy...over my face...everywhere! The feeling in my tummy was getting stronger and stronger as Max fucked me harder and harder. I want it more than ever now...deeper and harder...harder...harder Max...go on...go on...

`Go on Max...go on...go on...Max...Max...I love you Max...'

Max said afterwards that I began to move my hips against his thrusts. He said that's what really made him come when he did. I know I scratched his sides. He's got red marks around his hips where I grabbed him hard, poor boy. Bad me.

Max said that he held back as long as he could, but when I said those words `I love you Max' his feeling started to come and there was no way he could stop it. He knew something lovely was going on in my body too by the way I was moving. He said I'd lost control, and it was a different feeling. He asked me if I had come, but I wasn't sure if I had or not. I was still hard ages afterwards. I think I'd made a little cum too.

When Max let go into me, his cock was in as far as it would go. I knew it was because I could feel his hard balls banging against me making my head jerk back each time. I don't think he could have been any deeper in me when he let it all go.

I was holding him tightly, and it was obvious that he was coming hard in me. He was noisy and sweaty too, and my hands were sliding over his hot skin. It was totally glorious...like a cathedral organ thundering a Bach fugue over us.

Just after he'd come, he lay on my tummy panting, with his upper body supported on his elbows. His penis was still in me as he kept on pushing it in and out. It all felt very wet and slippery and made funny little airy noises as it slipped in and back again. It was an utterly delicious sensation, quite different to before. He'd come, but in a lovely and delicate and squishy sort of way. I could feel his penis get smaller, and then without getting upright or anything, it slipped out of me. I could see it dangling with stuff hanging from the end of it.

`Can I feel it please Max?'

`Yes, if you want to, but don't touch your mouth Alfie.'

I took his cock in my hand...the instrument of our pleasure...the thing he had used to fuck me with. I love his wet and slimy cock! I fondled his balls which had relaxed now. They felt heavy inside the skinny bag that held them safe. There was slimy stuff all over them too. I wanted to put it all in my mouth but he said not to. I was still as hard as anything. Max smiles and has an important question for me.

`Did you come, beautiful boy?'

`Sort of...but I'm not sure exactly. It was like that but the feeling was more in my tummy and towards by bottom. I don't think I did come.'

`Would you like me to make sure Alfie?'

`Yes please Max.'

If I hadn't come before, I did shortly afterwards. He kept two fingers up me where his penis had been and his thumb pressing against the bit between my churning little nuts and my anus. He made me come with his mouth and tongue. He said I made a small amount of sperm too. He stuck out his tongue and showed me, although it must have been mixed up with his saliva. You couldn't tell quite what it was exactly, but I believe him.

He'd put a couple of flannels next to the bed, and used them to wipe us up. Then he put one under my bottom as we lay together. I know why he did that.

`Was that nice Alfie?'

Silly question.

Max got under the shower. He told me to spend a couple of minutes on the loo, try and make something happen, which it did but I'm not sure quite what, and then onto the bidet with it turned up to full pressure. I love the feel of the warm water in my bottom. Willy liked it too and began to get longer. I sat there looking down at it watching its progress. By the time I joined Max in the shower my cock had come up very nicely.

`There's no stopping you is there Alfie? Do you get those during school time by any chance? Does it find maths a bit of a turn on?'

`Yes, it loves maths, and I'm not the only one who gets them. The leaders never notice, at least I don't think so.'

`I wouldn't be so sure of that Alfie. They probably do notice.'

`Oh well.'

Actually he's right. I'm sure they do notice. They could hardly fail to, but they can't really say anything can they? It can be very funny, as long as it's not you. Of course, sometimes it is me.

Dinner time.

Max said I might be a bit sensitive around the bottom area for a while. I could certainly feel that something had happened down there alright, but I don't think I was walking oddly, or anything like that. We had to look sharp after getting dried and dressed to go over to the flat for dinner at seven thirty. I threw Max a clean pair of pants from my pile. I calculate that's the third pair he's got through so far. Next time he comes down, he should come better prepared in my view, if there is a next time. He said he was leaving tomorrow morning, but I going to ask him if he can stay until Monday.

Mr and Mrs Kelly were waiting for at the bottom of the stairs of the Main Building.

`Do you fancy fish and chips boys?'

We often have them on Saturdays. It's an hour in the pub, and then round the corner to get them, and eat them in the car. Then it's a walk along the river for a half hour or so, and then `home'. The Kellys are very good to me, and I regard them as my parents in the UK. My actual parents appreciate them too. They have a standing invitation to come out to Thailand whenever they want to, all found including their flights. They haven't been yet but they might. You never know. They always get very nice Christmas presents. We have a special relationship with them, as does Max. That's very obvious, and from what Max has told me, I can see why.

Mr Kelly and Max had pints of bitter. I had a ginger beer with loads of ice, and Mrs Kelly had a glass of white wine. It was lovely all sitting together chatting about Norfolk mainly, and where Max was going in October. Exeter sounds nice. Like me, he likes old buildings, and of course all the cathedrals. He said he would never live anywhere that didn't have one of those close to him, so he's well fixed at Exeter. I've been there and it's a beautiful place.

We went in our usual walk along the river, away from Old Winsor towards more open country, but there are still benches to sit on along the way. Mrs Kelly stopped at the next one, sat down and patted the wooden slats next to her which was her invitation to me to sit next to her. I sat down and turned my head and looked past her towards Max and Mr Kelly who were walking on together. Mr Kelly had his arm around Max's shoulder in that fatherly way men do with their sons. I must have looked anxious.

`It's ok Alfie, he won't go far away.'

I felt mortally embarrassed. It was a perfectly innocent comment but it hit home in a way I hadn't imagined. He won't go far away.

I quickly looked back at a swan and two off-white offspring gliding through the glassy water making those V shaped ripples in the water. I could feel her arm against mine as I sat with my hands in my lap contemplating a long life without my friend.

`We're going to miss you Alfie.'

Her comment made me feel more alone, imagining myself just a tiny fish in the vast sea that the College will be in September. I nodded, looking down.

`But you won't be far away will you. You will come and see us won't you? We'll need to know how you're getting on. It's a big place down there. We don't want you getting lost.'

I looked up at her face, and leaned towards her. She knew what I needed at that moment, rather badly as it happened. I felt her arm enclose my shoulder as my head rested against hers. I began to think of home and the safety and love of a mother's arms...the same safety and love she was giving me now, and had done for five years. I think I feel things quite deeply and her thought was all a bit much for me at that moment.

She didn't need to say anything else. They were my family here for as long as I needed them. Mrs Kelly was aware of the tender distress I was feeling at that moment, and subtly altered track.

`So Alfie...how have you enjoyed Max's company? He's a nice boy don't you think?'

`Yes he's nice. We've done some fun things. He likes stuff that I like so...'

`So that's good isn't it?'

There was just the slightest pause before she said that. Long enough for me to wonder.

`Norfolk's a lovely county Alfie. Have you ever been there?'

`No, but Max told me about where he lives. It sounds nice.'

`Then I'll ask him to invite you then. He's probably be too shy to ask you himself. Would you go if he asked you?'

We sat quietly for a few minutes. I had kept my eye on the gravel pathway. Max and Mr Kelly were walking back towards us. Max looks nice in his white tee shirt...his brown legs and arms, and smartly cut shorts. Max knows how to show himself off. I sat up straight on the bench hoping he would see me. They were about fifty yards away, but I know he's seen me. He makes a little sign with his hand and I respond by discretely waggling my fingers of the hand that Mrs Kelly can't see. Suddenly I feel a surge of warmth flow through my body, pride even, as he approaches. We made love this afternoon, and I can still feel him inside me, but somehow this isn't enough.

We had tea about nine thirty when we got back to the flat. None of us are that interested in television, so Max said he was tired and wanted to go to bed. The Kelly's bade him goodnight as they got up from the sofa to escort him to the door. There was quite a bit running through my mind, so I said I wanted to stroll for a few minutes.

`Don't be too long Alfie, will you. Breakfast at eight thirty.'

I love the night air in summer. The breeze had fallen to nothing and the birds were having their last chattering before roosting. I didn't take the direct route back to Swallows, but turned left towards the field. Further down is the school chapel which is always somewhere to sit when I want to think. I have plenty to think about. The Chapel is Victorian apparently, built at the same time as the Main Building. The whole place was a convent originally before it became a school. As I approached the steps that lead to the front door, Max was sitting there. When I reached him, he stood up.

`Hello Alfie. I thought you might come here. I'm not very sleepy either.'

We sat in the choir stalls exactly where I sit to sing the services. I had put the card in the slot on the door that tells anyone else, like the caretaker, that there's someone in there, so they don't get locked in. You have to do that after eight at night, although in theory it doesn't get locked until about eleven.

I've had almost five years as a chorister, and not one minute of that time have I had the slightest regret. My `ear' for sound, so they tell me, was obvious from the start, as I had shown an interest in the sound of words from an early age. My mother took me to music classes which started as simple games, and playing with sounds, and then developed into using basic instruments, and singing songs. I loved it all, so when the opportunity to sing in the chapel choir came along, I was keen to give it a go. The rest is history as they say. My voice is about to change, perhaps not quite yet, but in the foreseeable future. They don't actually tell you in those words, but the gist is true...when a boy starts to make spunk, then it's over Rover. I've been making it now for a little while, but not much...just a small sprinkle of watery stuff, but spunk it surely is, and I'm very happy about that. Soon I'll make more, and then more, ending up with a flood of the stuff. There's another boy in Merlin who can produce a modicum too, but my nocturnal playmate in those matters, Jamie, can't, bless his little cotton knickers. Never mind, I tell him...you can play with mine. He's only to keen, and I love the feel of the tips of his fingers smoothing my paltry offering around my tummy just after I've come for the umpteenth time, until it gets too dry and sticky. Jamie's lovely. He'll be back on Sunday afternoon with all the other boys, back from their weekend exeat. I have asked Max if he'll delay leaving until Monday morning, but he was non-committal about. At least he's going to think about it. I told him he would meet all the other boys if he stayed. He smiled...

`I'm not sure I'd be safe with another thirty like you around me?'

`Oh yes you would. I'd tell them to leave you alone. I'd tell them that you were mine. Am I?'

It just came out like that. Max looked at me as we sat on the wooden seat.

`Of course I'm yours. The question is, are you mine?'

He had his arm around me when he asked that question. I answered him by putting my arm around his should and leaning forwards towards him so that our faces almost touched. I saw his eyes lowered and I think he was looking at my mouth. I opened it slightly, my eyes now focused on his mouth.

I don't know how long the kiss lasted. A couple of minutes maybe. It was a very nice one.

`Is that the answer to my question Alfie?'

`Yes.'

It wasn't the first time I had had an erection in the choir stalls, but that's another quite funny story, and nothing to do with a naughty choir master either, before you think bad things of English choir masters. It did have something to do with Jamie, who sits next to me at choir. He can be quite mischievous at times, underneath that rather placid exterior of his, and quite capable of little surprises. It just goes to show I suppose that appearances can be deceptive.

Max looked down at the front of my rather fitted shorts which couldn't conceal the healthy protrusion that went uncomfortably sideways.

`That's nice Alfie, but not in here. That's a step too far for me.'

I smiled and nodded my agreement. It would be a step too far.

Max asked me if I would miss the singing. I said I would because it provided me with something that I wouldn't have had any other way. Mr Kelly, who originally encouraged me to join, said it would develop the spiritual part of me, and that was important. He said I would never regret it, and he was right, I never have.

`So do you believe in all that stuff then Alfie?'

`You don't have to. Out of the sixteen of us, I doubt if more than three or four do.'

`And what about you?'

`I want to, but...I probably haven't quite got there yet. Will that answer do?'

`And what about us then? he might see us as miserable sinners do you think?'

`Maybe, but he's a loving God isn't he?'

`So there's hope for us then do you think?'

`I hope so. We can't help our bodies can we? Mr Kelly says that our bodies are temples. I love your body Max. Maybe you like mine.'

`I do Alfie. I love your body too. But what about my mind then?'

`I don't know enough about that, at least not yet.'

`Would you like to know more then?'

`Yes, if that's possible.'

`I'd like to think it was. Do you think you might come up to Norfolk sometime...come and stay with us at Blue Cottage?'

`Yes, I'd like that.'

`Maybe at the beginning of the holidays for a few days, if you parents can spare you?'

`Yes, maybe.'

`Great. I can show you all the walks, and all the important places I know.'

`Important places?'

`Yes. Important to me.'

That last part of our conversation made me feel warm and happy, and I wanted him to know that, so I leaned into Max who enclosed my body with his arms and held me tightly to him as I rested my head on his chest.

The light was fading as he told me that he was sleeping in the guest room that night, and I would be on my own. He thought I might be disappointed.

`That's ok Max, but can I come and see you in the morning?'

I'm sure Max was right. If we were to be real friends in the future, then we had to take stock for a while. We had to build something longer lasting than...well, just what we'd been doing, put it that way. Max had to make sure it wasn't just the physical stuff we were interested in, as good as that was. Max explained that friendships were built on lots more than physical things. I accepted what he said. Then he told me...

`I'm staying `til Monday morning Alfie.'

`Are you!'

`Yes. I had a word with Raf about it. He said it was fine, but I'd have to make my own way to the station at Windsor. I think I can manage that. Now I can meet some of those oiks you hang around with here, including Jamie presumably.'

`I'm not sure I want you to meet him, Max?'

`Why not?'

`Why not? Just wait `til you see him Max.'

We both laughed at that one.

All the boarders have to be back at school by five on the Sunday afternoon. Once back, we can do what we like until bedtime essentially. There's tea at six, and then Sunday Talk at seven, which is divided up according to age. It's a forum for ideas, mainly the boys'. We are encouraged to be very frank about everything, and anything we say won't result in any `comeback' as they say. My group consists of the six boys in my room, Merlin. We are the six boys who are leaving at the end of this term, so we have particular needs. Firstly, we are either approaching puberty, or we are in the process of going through it. Lots of aspects of growing up, both physical and mental, are dealt with at Sunday Talk...things we wouldn't dream about discussing with our parents. You can imagine no doubt. The thing about it is that we've grown up being honest about it all, and most importantly, we want, and need to know. Mr Kelly says we have to know. Most of us are going on to much larger and possibly quite impersonal schools where shy and retiring boys will be very small cogs in very large wheels, so part of Mr Kelly's job is to prepare us for what can be a tricky first couple of terms, emotionally, for an impressionable and possibly confused, but definitely excited thirteen year old.

Sunday morning, about seven.

Max's refusal to sleep with me in my bed, not to mince my words, had annoyed me rather. I wanted more of what we had had earlier in the day, but with hindsight he was right. My bottom is ninety percent recovered from the bashing it had received yesterday afternoon in the afternoon July warmth at Merlin. For hours afterwards I had the distinct impression I was gradually losing what Max had put inside me, and the precaution we had taken to preserve the pristine condition of my underpants has, by and large, worked well. After our rather emotional conversation in the Chapel, Max had disappeared to the guest room which of course has its own facilities. I undressed in Merlin's wet room and extracted the folded over toilet tissue which had mercifully stayed where Max had placed it inside my pants. The absorbent qualities of the material had done the job nicely with only the faintest hint of leakage of the unknown quantity of Max's cum. I turned around to get a peek at my bottom in the full length mirror that was provided in our wet room. It looked slightly pink around the centre but nothing untoward amazingly. In so doing, I was reminded of the feeling the whole experience with Max had induced in me, and when I turned to look at a frontal view of my body, lo and behold, my willy had risen in response to my thought process, more or less. I gathered some saliva on the fingers of my right hand, and with my left, eased back my foreskin to lubricate the head of my penis, which further excited it into a state of full arousal. I have masturbated in front of a mirror a number of times, and once or twice right here as it happens in the company of a couple of other boys. That's rather a fun activity as you put your spare hand in or around the rear end one of the other boys, depending on whether you're right handed or left handed. Then you watch yourself and the others in the mirror going hammer and tongs for it. The first to come is the winner. It's just one page from the book entitled `Innocent Fun for Boys of a Certain Age'.

I hadn't planned it at all. It was just a spontaneous thing. Near the end I was standing so close to the mirror that the head of my cock was almost touching it. The extent of my perversity so shocked and excited me that I came immediately afterwards, leaving an interesting and rapidly descending column of my cum on the glass. The intensity of my feeling had passed quickly enough which left me in curious mode. I dropped to my knees to make a visual analysis of the substance that had just a few moments ago shot out of the end of my thirteen year old penis. I had counted the contractions...three productive ones and another three diminishing ones that weren't, followed by some more minor sensations some seconds apart. What curious stuff it is. The watery part of the mixture had formed one rivulet and was long gone a couple of feet below the rest. The thicker and more viscous element was in less of a hurry to conform to the laws of gravity and appeared to contain streaks of white that ran through the clearer element. What interesting stuff it is. It's hard to imagine how it ever results in another human being don't you think?

After my spectacular cum onto the mirror and my feeble efforts to eradicate the evidence of what I had done, I felt a good deal less cross with Max, and got into bed to read. I woke up a half hour later to turn off my failing flashlight we all had to read by, or rather unkindly illuminate the after lights out activities of other boys. I had set the alarm for six forty five. I woke up naturally, a little before it was set to go off. It's unusual for me to wake up without an erection, and when my hand went in that direction, I found it hard as usual. I had slept nude.

It's a single flight of stairs down to the ground floor where the guest room is. I tried the handle to the door and it went a half turn. I gently pushed it forwards and to my relief it was unlocked. I opened it and looked through the gap. I could see Max lying on his side facing me some six feet away, with just a sheet over his bottom half, and his top half unclothed and exposed. I thought how beautiful he looked, open mouthed and handsome. I carefully closed the door, relieved that it made virtually no sound and approached Max's bed which was the nearer one of two singles with a small space between them. I stood over the sleeping figure and noticed the dark nipples that protruded upwards from his pale brown chest. I looked back at his face to see his eyes flicker beneath the closed lids. A moment later they were open. I had slipped off the lightweight dressing gown and left it as it fell to the ground behind me. My erection ahd diminished somewhat on my way down to the guest room, but standing naked in front of Max now, his eyes on mine, brought it back. Max took his eyes off mine and I followed then down to where he was looking. He smiled and turned onto his back. I had played this game with Pak.

I drew the sheet back to reveal Max's whole body. Like me he was naked and hard. He had retracted his foreskin. I sat on the edge of the bed and took hold of Max's cock and squeezed it hard in the way he had taught me. The clear viscous solution slowly began to appear. I held my thumb just below the opening at the tip and watched as the shiny liquid gathered on my thumb before raising it to my lips. I gently smear what I have gathered onto my mouth and the tip of my tongue. A strange taste indeed. I collect more, before leaning towards Max's face. My lips touch his, the taste is for sharing surely. I climb onto the bed and place my knees either side of Max's legs. I feel his balls. They're firm and compact. I harvest his penis for more of what I want. I'm not sure why I said what I said next.

`Teach me O Lord...your ways?'

`Where on earth did that come from Alfie?'

`No, it didn't come from Earth Max. It's one of the psalms we sing in Chapel. It's number eighty six I think...yes eighty six...definitely.'

`Is it now, my beautiful singing boy?'

`Yes it is. Will you then...teach me?'

`Yes of course, insofar as I know the ways. You're full of surprises. Did you know that? You ask the big questions and expect me to answer them do you?'

`Not really.'

`Well you do. Where do you want to begin then?'

`At the beginning, and then we might end up with the answer to the big question won't we?'

`If you say so Alfie'.

`I do say so.'

`You sound like a boy who knows what he wants.'

Well, in his case I do know what I want. Max brings thoughts and feelings to the surface I haven't known before.

I've described what Max and I have done together, so another description may well not provide any more than your imagination will provide, perhaps less.

Max took the weight of my body as I very slowly learnt to be his lover and the one who will receive his love in return. He guided me through the ways of loving another body with my hands and every part of my body. He showed me how parts of his body could combine with mine, and how to pour loving kindness into both our hearts.

Afterwards we lay for some time together, uncovered in the warm atmosphere of the guest room. I looked at his body, and touched it. His penis lay on his tummy, the foreskin half covering his crowning glory. I lifted Max's balls in my fingers and noticed how heavy they felt. I looked at my own penis, and how small it looks in comparison to his. I move my finger tips along the line towards his anus as he moves his legs further apart to let me gain comfortable access.

`Do you like that Max?'

`Yes, it's a very nice feeling.'

`Is it?'

`Yes it is. And how are you feeling Alfie? Is it too soon for you?'

It's definitely not too soon.

It took Max longer a second time. Once, on this occasion, is not enough for me. I think it's better the second time not long after the first. Max says that it's my age. He said he was like that too. Max said that my body shook when I came.

`Did it?'

`Yes, a bit. You look so beautiful when you do.'

`Do what?'

`You know what.'

Of course I know what he meant. I held him tight to me and gave him a playful bite on his ear.

We had missed breakfast. By the time we had showered together it was nearly ten o'clock. Mr Kelly was in the sitting room reading the Sunday paper. He was the first to speak, looking up above the newsprint.

`Sleep well?'

We both answered `Yes thanks' together and sat on the sofa.

`Tea and toast?'

Perfect.

I can still taste Max in my mouth, despite the tea and two pieces of toast. Maybe it's an illusion or something, like auto suggestion. I'm sure it's still there, the taste of it. Max asked me if I wanted him to warn me, and I said that I did because I wanted to know pretty much exactly when he was going to come. I wanted a few seconds to finally make up my mind about what to do when it. Of course I had thought about the consequences and I had already decided that I wouldn't stop, but just go through with it, but I also knew that at the last moment I could chicken out. With Dang, I had watched him come onto his tummy. This was going to be different. With Pak, I knew there wasn't going to be anything. With Max there was certainly going to be something. He'd told me there would be less because it wasn't that long since his last orgasm, and that's how it works.

Max had left it late to warn me, and I was so into it, I don't think I could have let his penis go. He had started himself off as I played with his balls and tickled him all the way along his perineum. I had guessed he was about two thirds of the way there before I took over. I can't pretend that my first experience of receiving with that method wasn't a shock. It was. When Max started, I knew I had to go through with it until he had finished properly. There's nothing worse than being abandoned halfway through. I had to swallow twice, but the last of it I kept in my mouth. Max, breathless, was immediately concerned for me. My immediate thoughts were that of triumph. At least I had made it work. The swallowing was a reflex action. After the second, I had the presence of mind to keep any more that Max beautiful orgasm should produce, in my mouth.

`Are you ok Alfie?'

I didn't answer, but just looked at him, open mouthed.

`Come here Alfie...quickly!'

It was a long kiss, and one of the most memorable moments in my life. I think that's all I need to say. We shared the essence of each other in more than one way.

Within an hour or so, Max and I were `sitting' for Mr Kelly. Actually we were standing, together, and close to the window which looked out onto the playing fields and beyond across Runnymede and to Old Father Thames. As I stood there, I thought how weird it all was. Not long ago I had crept down to Max's room and we two boys had made love to each other. I had experienced orgasm twice and Max just the one time. We had both done things we had never done before. Now we were standing in front of someone we both knew so very well, and in so very different ways. It all seemed so inevitable that it should happen this way, for different reasons. It seemed to set the seal on everything, and I hoped for Mr Kelly too.

Mr Kelly tried to hide it, but I could see he was affected. I was too. I remember him saying that drawing the human figure can be an emotional and draining experience. For the model, or models in our case, it's just a time to think and reflect, and possibly to get rather uncomfortable if you're standing up. Modelling is actually quite hard work if you've never done it. I don't mind it. I chose to do it as one of my compulsory `contributions' to school life as I've mentioned earlier. Lying face down is always awkward as invariably one gets a hard-on. It must be the slight stimulation that willy gets in that position. What you don't need is a change of pose whilst in that condition. The persons drawing you try not to laugh but it must be an amusing sight...and rather a nice one for some. It's happened to me several times.

It happened again whilst Mr Kelly was working.

We were thinking about what pose to strike, and not getting too far with ideas. Mr Kelly asked us, right out of the blue, if Max and I had become friends. We both looked at him. Neither of us had expected a question like that.

`So have you then?'

Max looked at me, probably wondering what he should say. I nodded to him to respond with the truth, as far as I thought it.

`Err, yes I think so.' Max says, slightly non-plussed.

`You think so? You're not sure?'

`Yes Raf, I am sure.'

`What about you Alfie?'

`I'm sure too.' I said, smiling.

`Good. Then you show me that you are then? You both look like you're untouchable. The drawing is about both of you. Just don't be afraid of how you feel ok? It's just us here. We all know don't we?'

We all know don't we? I could never keep anything from Mr Kelly. He's been too kind, too generous, and dare I say it, too loving for me to try to deceive him. There wouldn't be any point.

Max and I stood slightly turned towards each other. His hand was on my left hip and mine around his back, with our weight on one leg and the other bent slightly forward. That always looks far better than the weight evenly distributed on both legs. The light from the window played on our bodies from one side with the soft light of a dull morning...a dull morning in one sense, but by no means in the other.

`That's great. There's a nice relationship between you now. Can you feel it Alfie?'

I nodded, as I felt myself getting warm in the face. The more I felt it warming, the hotter it got, and shortly after I must have been the colour of a beetroot. Added to that was the very slight but perceptible movement of Max's hand on my thigh...just every now and again. About five minutes into the drawing I began to reflect about what had taken place in the guest room that morning. He asked me to masturbate in front of him, because he wanted to see me come. I knelt in front of his face as he sat up in the bed. I found the idea unbelievably sexy. It wasn't the fact that I was surely going to orgasm, but the fact that he wanted to see it happen. As I stood there feeling Max's hand just below my hip, I began to visualize that event as it happened, and Max's delight when my rather dismal little spurt of barely pubescent semen covered his tongue. What I had produced was no reflection on the strength of my orgasm however. The memory of that feeling, and the occasional movement of Max's hand, was enough. I don't know if it's just me, but I also like being looked at, and when you're being drawn, believe me, you are looked at. Add all that lot together and the result was a boner to end all boners! Not only did I know it was happening, but I also knew there was absolutely no point trying to do anything about it. Best to just let it happen Alfie. It did happen.

At one point I looked down to have a look at that most precious object that stuck so proudly out of my tummy with it skin tightened across it just at the tip.

Mr Kelly always seemed to have the right thing to say in awkward situations. He probably thought I was mortified at my inability to control that part of my body, and no doubt amused too.

`He's a handsome boy don't you think Max?'

I think that was Mr Kelly's idea of a joke. I'm not totally sure what he was referring to...me generally or my rock hard willy? Both maybe?

Max didn't answer. I sneaked a quick look at his. Perhaps great minds do think alike?

Max's penis never got to the same state as mine thank goodness. That really wouldn't have done at all. I had a good excuse anyway. That's what thirteen year old boys do all the time isn't it? We are allowed.

Mr Kelly did three drawings, two on A3 paper on a board standing up at his easel, and then two full page of quicker studies in the latest of his black sketch books. The second long drawing gave us relief from standing. Max sat at one end of the sofa with me next to him leaning into him slightly and at an angle so my legs were stretched out, and Max with his arm along the back of the sofa, nicely relaxed. We were all quite tired by the end of it. Willy had behaved well since his embarrassing performance earlier, and when we looked at the results of Mr Kelly's two and a half hour stint, there was no evidence of his naughty little performance. One way or another, it must have been obvious to Mr Kelly that the friendship that had developed so fast between Max and I had not remained platonic. How far it had gone was not for him to know as far as I am concerned. I still don't understand the full extent of Max's relationship with Mr Kelly, and whether he confides in him. Maybe he does. Anyway, I don't mind if he knows, and I'm certainly not going to lie about it. Why would I?

We got dressed as Mr Kelly packed up all his kit. He left the two larger drawings on the table, and put the black sketchbooks back on the shelves, and then levered out with the tip of his finger another book next to the black drawing books.

`Do you know this man's work Max?'

Max, now back in his tee shirt and shorts, walked over to where Mr Kelly was standing. He took the book, opened it and began inspecting the pages. I could see from where I was that the book contained pages of black and white photographs of people.

Max brought the book over to the sofa and sat down, absorbed by what he found in the book. I hadn't finished dressing, but kept my shorts in my hand and walked over to the sofa and sat next to Max.

`What do you think Max?' Mr Kelly asked.

`They're amazing...really beautiful.'

`Yes they are aren't they?'

They were very beautiful images. Mr Kelly brought over a second book by the same person, an American photographer called Jock Sturges. Max looked through that one while I worked my way through the first one. Somehow, it all made the drawing session more significant. It wasn't work but a celebration, like singing great music. I'm going to need time to think all this through...to really try to understand it.

Lunch was sandwiches that Mrs Kelly had got together...chees and pickle, that sort of thing. The light which had been ideal for the drawing session was fading and the sky was filling in fast. It looked like rain. I looked out of the large window in the sitting room to see trees waving around. When you can see the underside of the leaves, you know it's windy and you will have to reef the sail if you don't want to capsize the boat. I'd remembered that detail from the instructor on our Wednesday afternoon dingy sailing sessions. It's weird what details stick in your mind. I noticed that there were no white sails on the river. We were at a loose end. I caught Max looking at me, and smiled at him. He smiled back as he slumped back on the sofa. He was looking at one of the Jock Sturges books again. It was called `The Last Day of Summer'.

`Alfie.'

`What Max?'

`You should read the bit right at the back. The guy who took the photos explains what he's about. It's worth a read.'

A bit later I read it. It was interesting, particularly in the context of being drawn by Mr Kelly earlier, and with Max touching me. I think I have been embarrassed in the past a little by my own nudity when away from school. In school, I'm not at all, even in front of adults. There's a sort of rule about it for swimming, but it's quite often ignored. Nude swimming is allowed before breakfast, but no one is going to make a complaint if you happen to have forgotten your trunks, after all, there's not a huge amount to see is there? One bottom looks more or less the same as another and one uncircumcised penis does too, give or take a bit of skin? When they're erect, I grant you, they get more interesting. One thing I have noticed, and I think the science will back up my observations, is that smaller, middle sized, and larger cocks all end up more or less the same size when stiff, give or take a half inch or so? I measured mine, out of mild interest, the other day. I used one of those clear plastic rulers. It just broke the four and a half inches barrier. I don't think that's too bad is it? I haven't asked Max if I can measure his. I think I'll ask him tonight if he'll let me. I bet he will. Actually I quite like to know exactly how far up me it went. I know for a fact that it was the whole lot of it.

We must have spent a happy hour and a half in the Kelly's sitting room browsing the Sunday papers, and the photography books, and another look through a couple of Mr Kelly's photo scrap books of school trips and the like. It was interesting to compare the Sturges pictures with his. Mr Kelly was careful, if that's the right word, not to get took close with his camera, so although there were plenty of willies on show, they were all...well almost all seen from a distance so if you wanted very specific detail about someone's personal anatomy, you'd be disappointed. Both Mr and Mrs Kelly were in the room when Max broke the very relaxed Sunday afternoon silence and asked me a question.

`So, how would you feel about being photographed like that Alfie? I don't think I'd mind at all so long as I knew the person. What do you think?'

I shrugged my shoulders and said...

`I don't know really. I agree with you though, if I knew the photographer wasn't going to plaster prints of me all over the place...I think I'd rather like it. It's sort of flattering isn't it...that someone wants to do it?'

`But do you think it's art? If it is, it's ok isn't it?'

`Yes, I think it i_s._

Nothing more was said for a while. Then Max turns towards mr Kelly who has his head buried in the sport section of the Times.

`Raf...Would you mind if I showed Alfie the Blakeney photos?'

There was a pause, and without looking up from his paper, Mr Kelly answered...

`No, if you want him to see them. That's fine. It's the blue album on the top shelf right at the far end.

I was totally knocked out by what I saw. They were all black and white images of Max, almost all nude, with a few of another boy with his name written underneath. His name was Henry, and he looked noticeably younger than Max. In the early ones, Max looked about eleven or twelve maybe, and in the last ones he looked at least my age if not a bit more. I could see he had a tiny bit of hair above his willy, which incidentally, looked noticeably bigger that it did in the first ones. In those early ones, it looked a bit on the titchy side I have to say, but very sweet all the same...a bit like mine now perhaps! Well, if my honourable member for groin south develops into what Max has got now, I shall not be disappointed.

There must have been at least a hundred photos of Max in that album, and a few with his mother. She looks very pretty, so no wonder Max is so handsome. The ones of Max and his mum I found quite moving. The love between them was so obvious as she held him against her bare breast, and his hands across her tummy as if he's laying a loving brother's hand on her unborn child maybe? Maybe that's what it is.

I felt my eyes fill as I looked through the book a second, and then a third time, and I don't care if they notice.

`So what do you think Alfie?'

`I think you were lucky to have all those pictures taken of you.'

`Do you? Why is that Alfie?'

`Because it shows you how you were for a part of your life...not just holiday snaps or something like that, and it's real isn't it...more real than the other stuff?'

`Yes, I think so. I'm really pleased you think that, and that you like them.'

It was clear that Mr Kelly had taken all of them, and I still don't quite understand what their relationship was, or is? I don't think I need to know anyway. I don't think I should know. It's not my business, but it has made me think. Max wasn't finished.

`I think it's a shame too Alfie. Maybe we could persuade Mr Kelly to take some of you? Would you like that?'

I didn't get a chance to answer the Max's question. Mr Kelly had something to say.

`It couldn't be me Max. If it was anyone, it would have to be you. Sorry.'

Mr Kelly explained why he couldn't do a Josh Sturges on me, even if he had wanted to. I can understand his reasons perfectly. There was no way he could and that's that, but Max could.

It's three in the afternoon, it's raining, and Max and I are at a seriously loose end. I hate Sunday afternoons. Normally we would be in the pool or something. The others will be back in a couple of hours and then Max can meet at least some of the others. I think he's quite curious actually. Max is looking through the window at the fairly persistent rain falling outside.

`Who says we can't swim? Rain isn't dangerous is it?'

True. Just because it's raining doesn't mean you can't swim.

`You'll need something on.' says Mr Kelly... `There may be parents turning up early. There's usually at least one lot.'

That is also true.

Despite the rain, which was a light drizzle by now, it was still a warm afternoon. The pool felt wonderfully relaxing, and Max and I were content just to gently paddle around the edges clad in our underpants which more or less conformed to the `no nudity' rule. The rain felt soft on our shoulders, and made tiny circles on the surface of the water, one circle radiating outwards joining another.

I've had to be a decent swimmer from day one, because we often lived near water and if you do live near water, you play near water which is dangerous obviously. Hence the need to learn to swim in order to maximize one's chances of survival. I'm not the fastest at the Lodge, but close to it. Max is good. You can immediately tell by the quality of his freestyle stroke. It's elegant and effective. There's hardly an ounce of spare fat on his body and he never looks better than when he's swimming. Like me, he's completely `at home' in and under water.

The underwater game is fun. You take a deep breath and go down to the bottom and glide about amongst the black lane dividing lines and grouted white tiles like a predatory shark looking for his next victim. I look upwards to watch the drops of rain disturb the surface in those distinct patterns, best seen from below. My `victim' as you might guess is Max. I see his legs a few yards in front of me. They're wide apart as he treads water, arms and hands providing more stabilizing power. I head towards my target and I see the pink and brown flesh reflecting the dappled light. I feel my hair flow out behind me as I glide through the triangular shape of clear water. I come up for air as he turns to catch my legs, but he can't. My twisting body is too quick for him, and far too slippery. I laugh and in seconds I've escaped to submerge amongst the rocks and weed to plan my next attack. Next time I'll let him catch me.

He's at one end of the pool and I'm at the other. Like mine, his hair waves like seaweed on a rock as we approach each other, our arms pulling the water behind us, eyes open and wide and dark in the bluish light. But Max's finger is pointing upwards towards the surface. He repeats the signal in rapid succession. I glide upwards and break the surface.

The figure is looking down towards me as I break the surface, hair over my eyes, but I can see enough to know who our visitor is. He stands above me at the edge of the pool, grey short socks inside sandals. Above are two brown legs, a knee with the paler line from a scar sustained from a bike ride. Then the cotton shorts and aertex shirt...the tanned arms that bear the golden down of a boy. The little white beaded bracelet he always wears on his left wrist, and the slim hands at his sides that work the bow of the violin so that it speaks to us. He stands so elegantly, and in a way that that would expect from a dancer. Music and dance are what he loves best. His hair has fallen over his forehead as he looks down at me, smiling with blue green eyes. He moves closer to the edge of the pool so that now he's directly above me so I can't fail to notice. I look down again and my eyes follow the line of the boy's legs, and for a moment I remember the first time I had touched him.

`Hi Jamie. Why are you back so early?'

He ignored my question.

`Who's that with you Alfie?'

Max was in the far corner with his arms up on the sides of the pool.

`That's Max. He's been here all weekend. He's staying with the Kellys. Stay there...I'll go and get him.'

I swam over to Max who hadn't moved. He didn't say anything.

`Come and meet Jamie.'

We swam over to where Jamie was still standing, toes curled over the grey concrete paving stone that slightly overhung the water. I watched Max's eyes carefully. I didn't think he could resist Jamie's rather obvious invitation, and I was right, he couldn't. Then Jamie asked...

`Can I come in?'

`You'll need trunks on Jamie.' I said, trying not to smile.

`Oh. I haven't got any.'

`Oh bad luck Jamie.'

Cruel horrid me!

`Can't I come in anyway?'

`What do you think Max? Shall we let him?'

`Why not? We can be sharks and he can be a little fish.'

We laughed, that is, Max and I laughed. Jamie didn't know quite what to do.

`You can leave your things underneath ours Jamie.' I offered.

Max and I pushed off with our feet towards the middle of the pool and watched Jamie. Jamie does everything with an economy of movement and a boyish grace that none of the rest of us have. His body has been in training since he was six. In a few weeks he'll be at a specialist school for music and dance, and be one of a few boys amongst many girls. It's not something that gets discussed openly, but there's a general consensus that he's the sweetest looking boy in the school...not the most handsome, but...perhaps sweet is not the right word. Pretty? Yes, definitely. Girly? No, I wouldn't call him anything like that. Effeminate? Yes, slightly. Very blond hair, almost ash blond in Jamie's case and tending to curl, will often have that effect on a boy's appearance. He's not tall for his age, and just as you would expect for an embryonic Rudolf Nureyev. Well, you never know.

Max and I waited for the vision to present itself. Jamie turned his back to us as he undressed, which was a vision in itself.

`He's got a place at a specialist dance school Max.'

`Has he? I'm not surprised. If you look at him, you can tell he's into all that. You can see how his muscles are just waiting to develop. Look at his legs, and his bottom. How old is he?'

Jamie is a few months younger than me, but probably much more than that in other aspects of his development. He told me he has one much older sister. He is very aware of his body and how he moves, and I imagine that's all to do with his dance training.

Jamie, completely undressed now, turned to face us. I called out...

`You need to keep your pants on Jamie.'

I already knew he couldn't do that. I could see he wasn't wearing underwear as he stood above me at the edge of the pool.

`Ok. You'll have to come in as you are then.'

Jamie and I hadn't been in Merlin, our bedroom at Swallows, for more than a few nights after the start of this summer term. It was the Sunday evening. Jamie had gone home as usual for the weekend. Sunday Talk had been interesting. One boy had asked about why babies were sometimes born prematurely, and the discussion had as it invariably does, come around to things vaguely to do with sex. I think that's what Jamie had in mind when, well after our room light had been put out, appeared standing next to my bed. I wasn't asleep.

`Jamie...is that you?' I whispered.

`Yes. Are you awake?'

`Yes of course I am, you daft bat.'

`Can I talk to you?'

`Yes if you want.

He was just wearing his pyjamas bottoms. They were nice ones with blue and white stripes down the legs. They have a gap at the front which wasn't properly closed, so his dinky little penis was clearly visible through the gap. It looked bigger than it usually does.

`My tummy hurts Alfie.' Oh dear, poor boy. I had to smile to myself at Jamie's naivete. I ask you...'my tummy hurts'! In boarding schools that another way of saying `I'm feeling horny. Would you mind making me come please? I'll do it for you afterwards if you want.' `My tummy hurts' indeed! Well actually so does mine Jamie.

His pyjama bottoms were perilously close to falling off his narrow hips altogether as one hand moved across his lower abdomen. Another inch lower, and the base of his cock would come into view. Jamie's willy is in the minority here. It's circumcised, and I happen to like those, probably because I have skin covering mine and the grass is always greener as they say. I would estimate about a quarter of the boys here are circumcised.

`Where does it hurt Jamie...exactly?'

His hand went a little lower.

`Right down here Alfie.'

I could now see the very first part of his penis. The rest of it was still hidden. I like that bit with the dimple just above it and the cute wrinkles of skin down the sides.

`Is it willy trouble Jamie? You may as well say so if it is.' Let's not beat about the non-existant bush shall we?

`I don't know. Maybe.' He says, rather coyly.

Maybe! I knew there was no `maybe' about it. If he can get me to do what he wants, he's going to. As it happens I am delighted to oblige him. He's a lovely kind and gentle boy who thoroughly deserves my ministrations absolutely any time he likes, within reason. What's more, he's absolutely beautiful, and I mean all of him.

I pulled the duvet across so Jamie could slip into bed with me. I got myself over to the left as far as I could to make room for his gorgeous compact body, all beautifully toned and firm...and yes, there too. Is this all unexpected? Not really. I had a feeling that this might happen sooner or later. As it happens, sooner rather than later.

As I've mentioned, Jamie's has been seen to by the Doc soon after birth presumably. I'm fairly sure that's when it gets done. Anyway, I like it. There's a sense of greater nakedness when you see him prancing about the wet room, unlike us skinny types. He's more exposed if you like, and I do like. I can make myself look like that by easing the skin back, but that's a relatively recent thing. I've started to make myself come with my foreskin back but I have to be a bit careful with it. No such problem with Jamie. It took quite a while to come, but I put that down to a touch of anxiety rather than anything physical. When we finally got there, it was well worth the wait. I held him tight to my chest throughout the whole process with the fingers of my right hand embedded in his lovely head of curls smelling wonderfully fresh from his shower. I had tried to relax him, and he finally got nicely into the rhythm I was providing for him. We began to make real progress with Jamie unable to control the subtle little spasms of his body. I whispered in Jamie's ear...

`Are you ok Jamie? Does it feel nice?'

He nodded. His breaths were coming faster now. Another minute, and I'll have him there.

I felt for his hand and found it. He'd been reluctant to let me put it where I wanted it, but now he let me place it on my erection. He instinctively gripped it hard with. I thought that might do it, and I was right.

I felt the little soft balls relax after his cumming. Typically, his cock remained hard for some time afterwards. Mine often does that. He'd had a good one, and as far as I could gather later, the first with another boy here. I felt rather privileged when he told me.

I wasn't far short myself by this time. Jamie was keen to see another boy come at close quarters, ie me! So be it. He wasn't exactly adept, so I asked him if he would touch me in another very personal part of my anatomy, while I finished myself off. He wasn't keen to do it which I was disappointed at, but never mind. It's not everybody's cup of tea. Anything mouth to mouth is off limits with Jamie sadly, but he was not in any way upset at the suggestion. There are some pleasures I will have to wait for with Jamie.

Back in the pool...

We played chase the minnow, with Jamie conveniently playing the part of the minnow. I was the shark, and Max stayed in one corner of the pool acting as home and safety. Jamie's only problem was that he had to get there first before he was `got' by me.

Jamie is very good at some things, but swimming is not one of them, and laughing hysterically whilst trying to swim doesn't improve performance. He was going to be easy prey for the likes of me, so I needed to tactically allow him to escape until such time as he wanted to be caught. That's the whole point. In the end you enjoy the moment when capture becomes inevitable, and then hands enfold you, and you accept what is about to happen. It's happened in dormitories a thousand times. The boys decide who their victim is going to be that evening after homework is done and they have time for mischief before bedtime. After token resistance, the victim submits to the will of the group. He's held securely by two boys while the third undoes whatever needs undoing and by the time his knickers are down just enough, he has an erection because he knows what's coming and he wants it. From that point on, it's quickly over and then forgotten.

Max and Jamie had only exchanged a few words, but enough for Jamie to feel that he was welcome to join us in the water. Max shouts encouraging words, as time and again Jamie narrowly avoids my attempts to catch him. As I close in, my hands brush the shiny slippery flesh, but not enough this time to prevent his escape once more. I submerge and I see him watch me, slim legs waving, wondering where I will surface next. What blissful uncertainty. Jamie sees the gap that I've left between me and side of the pool, so he sees his chance and takes it. Laughing, he reaches `home', and Max's arms, and safety. Jamie needs a breather, so he bobs about in Max's corner which is at the deep end of the pool. He treads water as best he can, but not very well, and certainly not well enough.

`I'm sinking Max. Help...I'm sinking!'

Oh yeah? Typical Jamie.

Max rescues the situation by holding Jamie around his tummy. Jamie's legs float out in front of him, his arms outstretched. He's happy now. His head rests against Max's chest and he's smiling at me like the cat that got the cream. I feel like swimming between his wide open legs and giving his balls a good squeeze, the naughty boy. I know exactly what he's up to.

I've decided to be kind and not stick my finger straight up Jamie's arse for his trouble. I've got my elbows in the drain channel which supports my body in the six foot deep water without doing anything else other than waggle my legs gently in front of me. Max is supporting the floating body of Jamie in front of him and my shoulder is nicely in contact with Max's. We're both admiring the compact figure stretched out before us. Just at the base of his flat tummy rises a boy's penis, the head of which threatens to breaks the surface of the almost calm water. It's all a very pretty sight.

Jamie's feet sink lower, and he turns to face us.

`It's not fair.'

`What isn't fair Jamie?' I quietly enquire.

`You two are wearing trunks. That's not fair.'

Well actually we aren't wearing trunks. We're wearing things that are not designed to worn in swimming pools.

`We're not. They're pants Jamie.'

`No they're not.'

`Yes they are.'

Jamie worked his way towards me. I felt his hands on the sides of my chest. I knew exactly what he was going to do.

`Don't you dare Jamie!'

I didn't try to stop him. My legs rise towards the surface as Jamie pulls the small garment down and off my feet. He heads for the centre of the pool and I swim towards him but I give up easily and turn towards Max who is finding it all rather funny. I call out to him.

`It's just you now Max.'

We had Max trapped in the corner of the shallow end. He tried to get out of the tough spot he was in but we caught him by the legs. Jamie climbed onto Max's back which distracted him nicely, and me come to that. It gave me a view of Jamie I hadn't seen before. Very `Lord of the Flies'!

With both hands I pulled Max's pants off his bottom, over his knees and down his legs...and off. Max threw Jamie off his back and he landed with a large splash a yard or so away. Max slipped lower into the pool and faced us, his tummy level with the water. Jamie and I stood looking at him. I suppose Jamie's curiosity was now satisfied. He just stood there staring at Max.

We sent Jamie off ahead of us to Swallows to sort himself out before tea. The rain had stopped and our clothes, albeit not bone dry, were ok to wear. I looked at Max as we walked...

`He's nice isn't he?'

`Who, Jamie?'

`Yes. I think he's taken to you Max.'

`He's a passable little tacker I suppose.'

There was a wry smile on Max's face, and he had a little more to say.

`I suppose Jamie will be demanding a little of your time tonight?'

It would be interesting to know how Max would react if I said `yes' to his question.

`Probably. He's usually well in the mood when he's had a couple of nights on his own at home with no one to play with. Anyway, thanks for letting him join in with our game in the pool. He seemed to enjoy that.'

`Not at all. It was lovely watching you two play together. It was all beautifully `Lord of the Flies'. Have you ever seen that movie Alfie? You reminded me of Ralph, and Jamie was the image of Simon, only with even fairer hair.'

`Yes I have. We read the book in class and Mr Kelly showed us the film last week. I loved it, but it's a bit sad, you know, with Piggy and Simon dying and all that. I think we're supposed to be discussing it tonight in Sunday talk. You will come to it won't you?'

`Yes of course...if I'm asked.'

Max was right. We are a bit `Lord of the Flies' running around like we do, but a bit more subject to the law though, which is just as well. There's a good `law' here. I don't think it would take long for us `nice' kids to regress to a primitive state without some sort of law would it? I suppose we're all savages really.

We wandered back to Swallows talking about the film and the different characters in it. Max said that it was `X' rated at the time and not even the boy actors were allowed to see it at first. He also told me that the child actor who played Ralph had died recently which made me sad. He had had an incurable form of cancer. Max said he loved the character of Simon. Max, like me, is very sensitive to emotional things I think. He said he cried in places when he first saw it. I did too. Mr Kelly says it good to cry if you felt like it, or as he put it, needed to, and not worry about trying to hide our emotions. He said crying is a strength, not a weakness. I think he's right.

Almost all the boys at Swallows were back by five. John was missing from our room, Merlin, which was typical of him, or rather his selfish parents. I like John. He's a quiet boy...very tall for his age, and gets upset about things like I do. We've howled a couple of times together over this and that, and even cuddled on one occasion, but there's never been any suggestion that we might engage in anything naughty. John isn't like that at all. He's about the only boy in the place I haven't seen with a stiff willy. I honestly don't think his ever gets like that. Blimy!

Max is attracting a good deal of attention. I've introduced him to all our lot in Merlin, including John, now his parents have finally managed to bring him back to school. We're all expected to hang around our rooms until tea at five thirty. Max has been asking us about what books we read and our hobbies and so on, and just generally fitting in. I want my friends to like him and he's doing his best. Then he said he wanted to see the other rooms again. Jamie came with us. He talked to the boys in Robin and Swift for a bit. Most of them were lying on their beds, sandals left on the floor, one or two half dressed, and waiting to go to tea. They all wanted to know who he was, and was he here for the rest of term? No he isn't unfortunately.

After tea, we went to our discussion groups, Sunday Talk. I really enjoy what we do. Sometimes there's no talk at all, so we just sit and think, but usually there's loads of opinions on things. We have always been taught to have opinions and not just accept what the other person says. Mr Kelly says if we are to make the most of what we are, we must be `our own person'. I suppose we all are.

We started by discussing what the film `Lord of the Flies' is all about, and the purpose of each character. My Kelly asked us which one we identified with most, which was quite interesting. I said Simon. Then he asked us why we had chosen the one we did. That was much more difficult, and as it turned out, quite revealing. I think I slightly embarrassed myself. I don't care.

Max didn't say much. I think he was much more interested to hear what we said. After all, it's about us, and how we form our opinions. He did ask some interesting questions. When Mr Kelly closed the meeting, he asked Max and I to stay behind.

`Would you like to do lights out tonight Max...if that's ok with you? You could get them up tomorrow as well if you like? Just get them all here by eight? Do you think you could manage that...do the housemaster bit?'

Max looked a little non-plussed at Mr Kelly's suggestion, but it didn't take him long to respond positively.

`Yes...ok. Is there anything to...I mean...anything special to watch out for?'

`No, not really. It's common sense. Start with Merlin and work your way through the rooms down to the youngest boys in Robin. Then go back to where you first started and kick them out of bed if you have to. Then go back to Robin and work your way back again. The boys are used to the routine. Tell them tonight that it'll be you getting them up tomorrow so they'll know not to expect me. They'll enjoy seeing a new face. Have a wander through all the wet rooms when you've got them all out of bed and remind them to keep it all tidy. At ten to eight they should all be ready and waiting in their rooms to leave for breakfast, dressed smartly, sandals on and all the rest of it. Call them out and gather them together outside. They know what to do. One other thing. Make sure they put all their laundry in the baskets.'

Lights out.

I didn't see Max for the rest of the evening until he came round to say goodnight to us. Mr Kelly obviously wanted some time with him. Eventually he came down to Swallows a while before we had to be in bed so he sat and chatted as we all got undressed and ready for bed. There's a ten minute delay between each room having its main light out, so he could wander between all five. He was so sweet. In Merlin, once we were in bed, he went round and spoke to every single boy in turn. It was only just a word or two, but things like that matter to the likes of us. I lay on my side and turned towards the wall and had a think about things. I felt very happy in one way, and sad in another. There was something else too. We hadn't made any arrange for tonight. I have no idea whether Max wants me for anything, if you know what I mean. All he said earlier was that I had better look after `your boy on a plate'. He was referring to Jamie presumably, and I had replied...

`I imagine he could be yours too Max, if you wanted. I'm sure Jamie would enjoy a nocturnal visit to the guest room. Shall I suggest it to him?' I didn't mean it.

`You'd better not Alfie. One of you is bad enough. I'm not sure I could cope with both of you.'

He didn't say anything after that, so I'm not totally sure what to do now.

Four of the boys in Merlin had donned pyjamas which is unusual in the summer term. It's normally underpants or nothing at this time of year. Jamie hadn't bothered with anything bar a tee shirt and nor had I. I imagine it was the unexpected presence of Max that inhibited them enough to make the other boys decent. Max gave me a veiled wave as he left the room, switching off the central light as he went. He left the door ajar. There was still a little light from the window and the hallway, enough to see the other beds and their occupants in the room. I looked towards Jamie's bed which is roughly six feet from mine...far enough not to be able to reach him. That's what money buys...space and a degree of privacy. There are curtains between the beds but we never use them.

I'm thinking of going down to see Max, if he's there. He may be over with the Kellys for all I know. Jamie keeps looking my way, probably watching to see if I disappear downstairs.

I've made up my mind to go down to see if Max is there, but bloody Jamie's got his eyes open still. I know exactly what will send him to sleep.

I'm looking round the room at the other beds. It's an hour since lights out and I reckon they're all asleep. I'm going to pay Jamie a visit.

His eyes are almost closed as I kneel down beside his bed, but he sees me and smiles, and I whisper......

`Are you ok Jamie?'

`Are you going to see Max?'

`Maybe.'

`Can I come too?'

`No Jamie. Sorry.'

His head turns down towards the pillow, but I keep my eyes on Jamie's face thinking how lovely he is when he like this. His hand appears from under the duvet, and the long fingers that already know far more than mine ever will, invite me. I put my hand on his. His eyes are shut now as he draws my hand into his body. He turns onto his back and raises his knees.

I know exactly what works best for Jamie, probably better than he does. I've learnt from the way he responds to what I do for him, and that's the point....what I want to do for him, not what I want him to do for me. I just feel like pleasing him when he needs me. Jamie seems to elicit that response in people I think, and I've seen other boys react like that to him, like he's some kind of superior being? I think he probably is.

Of course I've made him come. It always takes a while but it's time well spent. In a way I wish he would last longer but he can never go for more than three or four minutes, even at the speed I go at...slow, slow, and then a bit slower, then quicken when I know he's close, and then slower until I almost stop right at the point of his orgasm. It's a case of giving is better than receiving. He rarely wants to do the same for me, but I really don't need him to. Doing it for him is so excruciatingly pleasurable, it's almost wrong to expect anything in return. This boy's penis is one of the most sensitive I've known, and I've known a fair few already. Like faces, they're all so different which is what fascinates me about a boy's cock...how different they are, and what makes them tick and then go bang. The key to my pleasure is my bottom. I know that. That's just how I am, and how I will always be. Jamie is all about his cock and the nice way it can be coaxed into acceptance of the greatest physical feeling in the world. I simply adore this boy's cock, which makes it all the more frustrating. Never mind. He's wonderful just as he is.

I always check to make sure there's been no physical change since the last time I made Jamie come. I wait a minute or so, and then I gently ease the skin up from the base of his softening penis towards the quite broad head, and pass my thumb gently over the opening. There's a little more there than before. Good boy Jamie! I'll choose my moment to tell him. He'll be thrilled.

Fifteen minutes later.

When I reached the guest room I was still in the same state I'd been in since attending to Jamie's needs. He'd gone straight to sleep before I had even let go of him. He'd turned over onto his front which gave me an opportunity I couldn't resist. He doesn't let me go there in the normal run of events. It must be the dance training routines he goes through that has developed the muscles of his bottom so beautifully. The feeling is exquisite as my hand passes over and around the two very firm and quite bulbous forms, and as I rather cheekily have a little foray in between them, Jamie stirs a little which allows me a little more room. I find what I'm looking for, and it's for the very first time. I wonder if we have just reached a milestone?

The door of the guest room was open quite wide which immediately made me suspect that Max wasn't there, and I was right. I felt more angry than disappointed. I had kept my hand over my erect penis all the way down from Merlin, holding it against my tummy with the ends of my fingers. There was wet there. I could feel it on my fingertips. Where the hell could he be? After a few seconds of panic I began to rationalize the situation. I estimated the time to be about ten thirty. Max could still be chatting with the Kellys at this time. That wouldn't be an unreasonable thought as they no doubt had plenty to catch up on. Should I wait, or go back to bed? If he found me asleep in his bed he might be angry. Added to that, Mr Kelly often did a late round of the rooms, and if he found my bed empty there could be hell to pay. No, I have to go back.

I don't know how long I'd been asleep. I was just aware of Max's hand on my forehead and his soft words. He stayed for maybe five minutes. It was nothing to do with sex, but everything to do with how I hoped he felt about me. Surely you wouldn't do that if you didn't care?

He whispered lovely things to me which I knew that after tomorrow I might never hear again from him. As I thought about what he's said, it began to overwhelm me, and I felt the tears slowly make their way down the sensitive skin of my cheek, only to be gently wiped away by what I hope is a loving hand.

I don't remember him leaving my bedside.

The end of chapter three

Next: Chapter 4


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