The Sins of the Father
by N Fourbois
Chapter 20
Next morning Rufus was up early. He was too excited to sleep in. Even so he was surprised to see his brothers already eating their breakfast when he got down to the kitchen. They were off with friends for the day and were being picked up at eight. Rufus had just thrown on a tee shirt and a pair of sweats, just a tee and a pair of sweats. He bound down the stairs bare footed and with his equipment bobbing up and down inside the sweats. He loved the feeling of freedom, but knew from experience that he had to choose his moments. The unwanted boner could still rear its head at the most awkward moments, but en famille it didn't matter. It had all been seen before and there was no such thing as a new comment. He would begin his toilette after breakfast when everyone had left the house. He had to be at the station for eleven to meet Michel, who held all the paperwork for the weekend.
"So are you going to get laid this weekend, Rufus?" enquired Magnus after the parents had left for work.
"Might do. On the other hand I might do the laying. You've got to remember Michel and me don't know one another that well… yet. I'm still amazed to get this weekend on the strength of quickie blowjob in a broom cupboard. He hasn't really had a chance to see the goods, let alone handle them."
"Just shows how hard up Ledivin must be," sniped Hugo using that double edged sword of a tongue of his.
"Shut up, Hugo. You're only jealous of the boy because you blew your chances… Sorry, wrong word. You didn't blow anything, did you?" and Magnus and Rufus chuckled at Hugo's expense. Hugo scowled. The grandfather clock in the hall struck eight and a horn was tooting outside. "Sorry. Got to go. We'll leave you with the dirty dishes, but then we'll be doing your share while you're enjoying yourself. Have a good time and give that Michel Ledivin one from me," said Magnus. Hugo just said scoffed saying 'huh'.
"You really do not learn," Rufus heard Magnus saying as they picked up their packs and tumbled out of the backdoor.
Rufus ate a leisurely breakfast avoiding muesli, eggs and baked beans. He wanted his butt to be the source of sweetness and light, not a fount of frequent foetid fumes, well, not on the first date. He picked up the Daily Telegraph , which was lying on the table, and rather than read about the latest stabbing or whose turn it was in the cabinet for a minister to make a gaffe, he turned to the back page for the cryptic crossword. The previous day he had managed three clues. If he could make it four today, that would indicate progress. When term began, he would recruit Toby and William's help. Any sophisticated lower sixth former should manage the Telegraph crossword. One needed an intellectual ambition in life and at present all his ambitions were confined to being of a sexual nature, including his passion for Swan Lake . He was pleased with himself for managing five clues, all short words and none of them connected in the frame, but five clues were beyond his wildest dreams.
Suddenly he noticed from the kitchen clock that it was coming up to nine. Okay, two hours left, but where had the last hour gone? He hurriedly put the crockery and cutlery into the dishwasher and disappeared upstairs. He stripped off his clothes and stood in front of the mirror. His dick and balls were hanging nicely today, no tightness or shrivelling up, his foreskin almost covering his glans rather than sticking out half an inch over it. The first job was the shave. He shaved his face carefully. It was not the right day to cut himself. He then took his electric hair trimmer, ran it over his armpits, went and stood in the shower and shaved off his stubbly pubic hair. Since he was not a naturally hairy being, his chest, balls and legs were smooth. He thought twice about the finely delineated treasure trail, but concluded that a trail leading to no pubes was a nonsense and that went too. It would soon grow back. He then went back over the shaved area including his pits with a wet razor and he was pleased with the smoothness of the whole area. 'Please, no razor rash, not this weekend,' he prayed, hoping that there might be a god of boy sex out there listening to and watching over him. It stung when he put aftershave on his lower abdomen, aiming to close up the pores quickly and the alcohol would prevent any infection. He showered, removed the loose ginger hair blocking the plughole and flushed it down the lavatory. With his Viking hair he could not blame a blockage on any other member of the family. He ran the deodorant stick over his pits. Luckily the one he used was for sensitive skin, contained no alcohol and so didn't sting. Then before putting on a white cotton lycra thong, he rolled back his foreskin and smeared a dob of K-Y under the rim of his glans and spread over the tip by pulling his foreskin back and forth a couple of times. He adored the shock of the cold gel followed by the moist slipperiness. He pulled up his thong quickly before he grew hard and adjusted his balls, then added a cream short-sleeved shirt, light beige corduroy slacks and brown shoes. He took care arranging his hair. He did not want to gel it as that darkened the colour and if push came to shove he would have to 'borrow' Hugo's hair spray. Finally he was ready. He made his bed, put his packed case on top and went to add his washing kit and his 'supplies'. When he opened it, he was surprised to see a folded pair of pyjamas lying on top with a little note from his mother: 'Just in case you have an accident.' He did not know he even possessed any pyjamas. He couldn't remember when he started to sleep naked. Probably when his brothers did. He checked his wallet which was chained to his belt. There was £50 in it, but more importantly he had his bank card. He decided to leave his mobile at home. One less thing to lose and Michel was bound to have his. It felt like the untying of the apron strings. He left it prominently on his dressing table, switched on so that if the family rang, they would hear it, realise that he'd forgotten it and wouldn't worry at getting no reply.
At last Rufus locked the house, left through the front door and trundling his case behind him, made his way to the bus stop. He arrived at the station at five to eleven. Michel was already there on the platform, dressed in a polo shirt and body-hugging 501s. Rufus could feel himself hardening up even before they hugged. The weekend had begun, and with a moist feeling in his groin.
The train came in on time and they soon sought out their reserved first class seats in the front carriage of the London express. They found it easy to talk even though they hardly knew each other. Rufus caught Michel gazing into his eyes a lot rather than looking at the scenery. He soon realised why he had chosen him to accompany him, though as yet not a word had been spoken on the matter. They bought sandwiches and coffee from the trolley service.
"This will have to be our lunch. Dinner at the hotel tonight."
The train sped onwards towards London. The lady occupying the seat on the opposite side of the aisle stood up and walked towards the restaurant car. She was the only other passenger in their vicinity. When she had gone, Michel leant across the table, took hold of Rufus's hand and gently pulled him towards him. He kissed him on the cheek and whispered in his ear
"Rufus, I'm going to have that pert little butt of yours before this weekend is out." Just as coolly he replied
"Maybe you will, maybe you won't, but if you do, watch out for payback time." "You will have to seduce me, not rape me," and he kissed Michel back.
"I love a challenge."
"At some stage I shall want yours in return, but I'm happy to wait, if necessary, until we're back home."
This was powerplay. Rufus had plans for Michel that went beyond this weekend, such was his determination. This had been in the back of his mind ever since the broom cupboard incident, yes, a form of revenge, but more a sign that any relationship was to be based on equality, not dominance of one partner over the other, except… except to achieve that, Rufus would have to summon up all his own powers of seduction. This weekend both would be winners. The big prize would come later, and hopefully the honours would be shared.
Rufus and Michel sat back in their seats and looked out of the window. Rufus knew it was game on and wondered whether Michel did. Yes, there was going to be a lot of sex this weekend. That went without saying, but was a relationship going to be formed or was it going to be 'thanks and see ya around' on the station platform Sunday evening? Okay, Rufus was never going to be short of sex all the time he was young, healthy and so good-looking, but his brothers were off to uni and anyway he was fast outgrowing being at their beck and call. There were bigger fish in the sea. He could rely on Toby and William for the odd quickie or an afternoon's fun time, but he knew that their relationship was firm and he was only allowed to join in as a bit of extra-marital on the side. He had a good reputation among the gay community at school, but he didn't want to gain one as a slut seducing Year 9 boys, much as he liked the idea. Year 9s were always an interesting voyage of discovery, but they rarely developed a relationship. 'I hope for goodness' sake I don't foul up this weekend.'
"A penny for your thoughts," called Michel for a second time.
"Uh… what? Oh, I'm sorry. I was miles away. I was just thinking how much I was looking forward to this weekend."
"Me too."
"And beyond." Now Rufus was testing the water with his big toe. From the expression on Michel's face he knew exactly what was going on in Rufus's head and he approved.
"I hope we'll see each other again." Michel reached across the table and kissed Rufus again, but on the lips this time. The automatic door opened and the little old lady re-occupied her seat. The boys pulled apart and sat back. Rufus was nursing a boner and wondering if Michel was too. Michel was nursing a boner and wondering whether Rufus was too. Rufus surreptitiously re-arranged himself. So did Michel and they caught each other at it. The little old lady was busy delving into her handbag. Michel poked the tip of his tongue out at Rufus; Rufus reciprocated. This couldn't be anything but an exciting weekend.
The boys were silent and looked out of the window. The view of fields had changed to one of houses, back gardens, factories, office blocks. The announcement came over the speaker that they would be arriving in London in ten minutes and were two minutes early.
When they alighted Rufus automatically headed for the Tube station.
"Hold on," said Michel. "Don't forget we've been given £200 expenses for this weekend. We're taking a cab." Rufus had forgotten about the expenses. It wasn't his money, anyway, and he was prepared to pay his fair share. The taxi fare came to £8.80. "There you are. Twenty pence dearer than if we'd gone on the Underground and we've been taken door to door."
"You seem to know your way around," said Rufus.
"If you want to get on in modelling, you can't avoid London. You don't have to live in London or work out of London, but you can't avoid it. Think about it. If everybody did have to work in London, how would agencies like your mother's do any business?"
The taxi pulled into the forecourt of the hotel. Immediately a porter took the luggage inside while Michel went to the reception desk, produced the necessary documents and booked the couple in.
"Suite 214, sir." At that the pageboy whisked away the luggage. The receptionist prepared the key card while Michel signed the register. "Dinner is served between six and ten in the dining room. Outside those hours there is a cold collation available in the breakfast room or there is room service. Breakfast is served from seven to ten, eight till eleven on Sundays. I see from your documentation that gratuities are included. Should you be dissatisfied with anything, please let me know. You will find your luggage in your room. Enjoy your stay, gentlemen."
Rufus was a little disappointed. He had glimpsed the pageboy taking the luggage away and he had already gone when the couple arrived at their suite.
"Those uniforms they wear make them look so cute with the tight trousers and the waistcoats that only come down to the waist. We'll have to order room service, just to get a good look at him."
"I wonder if he really does provide room service," said Michel with a lecherous grin on his face.
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