Johnny Come Home
by Rafael Henry
Chapter 14
Being left-handed, I had to move between Anna and Adrean in the big bed so that I could get to Adrean properly to my right, and comfortably. It was no longer safe for them to have normal sex together the way they always did it with him heavily on top. She isn't keen to comfort her husband 'another way', and knowing I was perfectly happy to deputise, I effectively took responsibility for Adrean's sexual wellbeing; on a temporary basis. Anna had always had a soft spot for me as I've mentioned earlier so during my ministrations to Adrean, she would amuse herself by stroking my back and delightfully, take full advantage of me and play with my bottom. After all I was saving her from what she considered to be a distasteful task. With me leaning over Adrean, as one has to, to effectively carry out this delicate operation, she had me, or those accessible parts of me, as her boy plaything, all to herself. As soon as Adrean was ready for me, I was ready too. My relationship with Adrean's penis was at an early stage but I was soon to learn what he wanted and particularly enjoyed. More with the tongue on this bit? Yes, but slightly lower. It's a matter of consultation, just as it is with the lovely Johnny, and what it definitely wasn't with the unfortunately strong-minded Quintus, damn him. I did see Quintus naked and with a very handsome erection on a couple of occasions but that's as far as it went sadly. I'd say that the two of them, Quintus and Adrean, are on something of a par, penis size wise. I'd be a very happy bunny if I end up with one of those. Right now at the tender age of sixteen and a late starter, I don't cause too much alarm when I present myself to John, invited of course. John is in charge of his own destiny in these matters, always above me, facing me or lying back in my lap in our very favourite armless easy chair I had in my studio-cum-bedroom, as if it had been designed for that very purpose. It's a lovely way to commune with a boy, him lying back on one's chest like with his legs either side of mine, legs thus wide apart, so he can be played with as his bottom perches on you. Being shorter than me, I can reach everywhere with both hands free.
Adrean liked to keep a hand on me while I went about my business with him, moving it from time to time as and when his concentration allowed. As I was getting him there, he was getting me there, albeit inefficiently, leaving me with no real expectation of a very pleasant final fulfilment. Anna helped me along the way very nicely, as she was helping herself, concentrating on tickling my rear end, and as matters progressed, some deeply erotic delving inside. These were the side shows but not the main event. What matters most is giving Adrean the best possible experience to make up for his loss.
A few days later I asked Adrean what kind of activity he enjoyed most.
'You're just as good Alex; as good as any other way. Just different. The whole scenario is different. Anna is Anna so that's one lovely thing. And when it's you, it's you. So that makes it so different and special. It takes me longer with you and I like that. The not quite knowing if it's going to work.'
'It has so far hasn't it?'
'Well you should know Alex. Thank you by the way. It's been very special, and hopefully not too difficult for you. You always go right on to the end.'
'The very end! And above and beyond. And no, I'm fine with that side of things. I've never minded it. Have you ever?'
'No. I don't think I could go through with it; not all the way. Neither could Anna as you know. How would you describe it if you had to?'
I attempted a description and failed rather, but reassuring Adrean that he is always very acceptable, and left it at that. I didn't mention the far sweeter and less bitter properties that John's body provided during his moments of pure joy. But then that might be due to my feelings for him. I love everything about Johnny, and when I say everything , I love that too. John will always make sure I'm alright first, and then I'll do likewise for him. Afterwards we will spend time together until we are both mentally recharged and drifting back up to a non-sexual frame of mind. Being the boys that we are, that state of mind, the non-sexual one, doesn't last very long.
Compared to Cornwall, this landscape is flat…….unerringly flat, similar to a billiard table, or a pool table should that be more familiar, and no relief save a network of drainage channels, or dykes as they're called in these parts. Without them the land wouldn't drain. They tend to run in straight lines, and then just to surprise the unwary motorist, the road will turn a right angle at the end of yet another huge field. But the bonus is the expanse of sky on offer; from the horizon upwards. So set your horizon line low boys, and study the clouds and how the sun affects them as they gently drift across in the warm comforting breeze, west to east on a summer's day, as we lie here just in our play shorts.
'Can you see a face in that one Richard?'
'I can see the head of a bird. Look, those are his two wings.' He replies, turning his head towards me and pointing.
He swats away a fly that landed annoyingly on his cheek.
'Do you think they're any fish in there Alex?' Asks John, sitting up and supported on one outstretched arm. A bare back down to his white shorts he plays rugger in, but they double up for other activities. And there's more evidence there too. Lovely. And there's little brother who has got his wish; to come with us on our bike ride more than six miles from the small city we live in which in the late autumn smells of the sugar beet factory. A sweet and rather nauseating smell of burnt sugar. Richard wants to join in.
'Could we swim in there?'
'I suppose you could. Might be a bit uncomfortable on the feet Richard.'
'I don't mind that.'
'Go on then. We'll watch you.'
We're not far from my old house, the one we had to leave because my father got posted to the Truro office, and before I find myself billeted with Adrean and the now pregnant Anna, and her two utterly delicious sons, John and Richard. There's a single ash tree that overhangs the pool providing shade on hot days. Dappled sunlight dances on Richard's body as he contemplates his entry into the pool. It's rare to see anybody here in this place I found a long time ago. I brought Quintus here once. I had told him about it and he wanted to see it, and me featuring in it. He made a lovely pencil sketch of my reflection as I stood in the dark glassy water. I lay in his arms just as I am now with John, in the grass; and still nothing. I wondered what more I had to do. Not so with Johnny.
Richard has no fear on the rugger pitch, felling the opposition ball carriers one after the other, bringing them down like falling trees. They told him the bigger they are, the harder they fall. It's true.
Richard won't worry if anyone sees him with nothing on, apart from us who have seen him nude many times now, the beautiful boy that he is. No fear. How Johnny loves his brother, and how I love him at this moment as he watches the boy enter the crystal-clear pool, his hands paddling and disturbing the calm surface. A leaf from the ash tree falls as the rings of water make it bob up and down.
The boy turns towards us, his hands clutching his bits as he ventures further, the water almost to the top of his legs now.
'It's deep here.'
'It gets deeper. Be careful.'
Now his shoulders are under the water. Even in summer the water is cold.
I'm gently rubbing John's back. His skin feels pleasantly warm. And now his neck and shoulders. He moves in closer wanting more contact elsewhere. I'm behind him with a palm on his left buttock. John has a different build to his brother who is broader back there but no fuller than John's. Both sets are delectable indeed, and John's narrower hips seem to accentuate the firmness and fullness of his bottom. Turning slightly towards me, he raises one knee. I know what that means. He's making himself 'accessible'. I shall tease him for a while. I know how to do that.
John puts a hand inside to make a necessary adjustment. It doesn't take much to excite this particular boy. I know what I will do next. Send him a message in the way I like to. He'll know what I'm saying to him, without any words spoken.
He's been sitting on a bicycle saddle for an hour and it feels like it, but not unpleasant. Not distasteful at all. It feels like it is. Like it should feel; like it always does. It's his weapon of choice. Something that encloses me, sucks me in to him and turns my head inside out and backwards. Here it is now, moist now, and warm as we watch Richard glide about in the calm cool clear water.
When I gently blow breath into John's ear, it makes him smile. I love his smile. He pushes my hand lower down his tummy so that my finger-tips encroach between the two waistbands. Sensing intimacy, he works his body tighter into mine like two spoons while we watch Richard playing in the water. It wouldn't take a mind reader to work out our thoughts.
'Nothing this morning?' I ask quietly.
'No. You?'
'No.'
We had agreed some time ago. Weekends were ours to enjoy together. Waking with an erection that was asking questions of its owner was as tempting as ever, but needed to be left to relax again, all in good time. Save it for later Alex, I told myself.
'What about Richard?' John asks.
'He won't stay in the water much longer. He looks cold already. We can't, not with him here. We've no towel to dry him off. Perhaps if we put him in between us?'
'He'd like that . That would warm him up a bit. He likes you . Did you know?'
I couldn't see any reason why he would dislike me. For John, Richard must be an ideal brother to play with, naturally calm and affectionate compared to John's more emotionally edgy personality. I think John is thinner and longer in the face now than he was when I first knew him, but that could be down to the effects of puberty.
I take a deep breath as John keeps playing with my hand, pushing and pulling it over his tummy. If Richard wasn't here, we would be starting something by now. As I pull my hand out of John's grasp I can play with the boy's thigh, from the knee upwards, as far as I can go. It feels warm and slightly moist up there. His perineum feels firm and hard when I press on it which means he's aroused. I'd be disappointed if he wasn't. I certainly am. But what about Richard? He's no doubt guessed that John and I have begun playing interesting games together. Some thoughts about Richard I've been having this morning need to be pushed to one side. That would be too complicated as much as I suspect that Richard would dearly like to join in our party. We can't let him do that. But we can show him some loving kindness surely?
John turned onto his left side to make space for his brother between us, now lying on his back, his pale skin shining in the mid-morning light. We've no towel to dry him so he'll just have to lie there until the remaining moisture on his skin evaporates with his own body heat and the sun's rays.
I watch as the boy's chest rises and falls, coupled with the tiniest evidence of a beating heart, and his tummy sunk down below the base of his ribcage. There's a drop of water trapped in his navel, the light reflecting in one bright dot. And then his sexual parts. The small uncircumcised penis above a contracted darker coloured and textured scrotum that contains his 'tentacles' as John calls his.
'Feel my tentacles Alex.' He demands, smiling, and lying on the bed. He's turning the two egg-shaped forms this way and that. Then he grabs my ahnd and plonks it on the parts in question.
'Like this John?'
'Yes, just like that, and keep going. Don't stop until I tell you.' He continues, his eyes closing.
Unlike John, his younger brother has a pronounced 'overhang' of loose puckered skin that was still there when I last saw him swing his legs off his bed and stand erect. The thing is slim and light enough to point alluringly skywards. I think it must be the physical weight of those things. As a boy becomes a youth, and larger, he won't point to the heavens, but forward, or in Quintus's case, slightly downwards. Quintus was, is, a heavyweight compared to the sprightly Richard.
There are tiny hairs there, a pale gold glinting in the light, just as there are on his legs and forearms. There's a particular beauty here that I can't take my eyes off. The chest rising and falling. A mind set between two others, unconcerned with mid-pubertal sex; like John's mind is.
We look back at the pool, the surface like glass again.
Richard lies with his arms beside him, his left close to my body. I'm on my right side and he's very close, his fist opening and closing and just brushing the front of my shorts. His skin is dry and warm now, with the hairs on his arms standing up and all goosebumps gone. The three of us together in the sunshine.
When John touches a nipple and it tickles, the boy giggles and grabs my hand, hard. John does it again as the atmosphere becomes tense. The boy takes a deep breath and exhales his tension as he stares upwards to the summer clouds scudding along like cantering horses.
I always had the sense to recognize danger where it lurks. I never pursued the cheeky Simon Perret after our first surprise play and my subsequent rejection by him. I pursued Quintus relentlessly, to the point that made him leave. Perhaps I wasn't the reason he left. Perhaps there was another that I knew nothing about. Probably. Why should I think I'm that that important? I'm not.
Richard is enjoying being the centre of attention. That's easy to understand. He thinks we're going to play with him as he continues to fiddle. The inside of a thigh is a warm smooth and sensitive area for any boy, or girl too, I assume, and the higher you go, the more erotic the sensation. And then the thumb that can go that little bit further and touch where the legs meet.
John knows how to tease his brother as I watch, enthralled with the younger boy's progress from the plump little curved morsel with the skinny overhang, to what it is now. The process took less than one minute I'm certain, from that to this . I'm having nothing to do with this.
And then the retraction process, gently done while Richard watches. He did it himself. John leans over his brother. They've done this before. And then the pale purple head disappears, and then reappears. The same thing, again and again. John provides more. And now faster still. Just two fingers and a thumb. Deep breaths Richard. It'll soon be with you.
Bare arms, bare chests, bare legs, under the palms of my hands in the midday warmth.
Richard had his few moments in the sun, knees high and wide apart. It's one of the most beautiful experiences one can have, in my view, and it was in my view, from beginning to its lovely and inevitable ending. Afterwards comes the comforting, the fingers through the boy's hair, the stroking of the face, the gentle kiss on a hand; a forearm perhaps with those fine hairs on one's lips. Even a compliment paid to bring a smile to his face.
'What a good boy you are.'
'Am I?' He says, smiling.
'Yes sweetheart you really are .'
Every Good Boy Deserves Food. E G B D F , and then in the spaces, F A C E . The treble clef. You play it on the piano.
And then the other one kids learn as they try to master musical notation. G ood B oys D eserve F ine A pples.
Or an alternative way of remembering the base clef. G ood B oys D eserve F ine A rses.
Even the 'butter wouldn't melt' Peregrine Merciful, my chubby volunteer partner for my music practical exam knew that one, and laughed. I can't imagine getting an intimate knowledge of Perry's ample arse somehow, as much as I'd like to, just the once. That would do me.
I took him into town to treat him to a tea after my music exam, by way of thanking him for his time. He opted for a milk shake, strawberry, and a large slice of their classic sponge. A good choice I thought.
'It was very good of you to be my partner Perry. Did you enjoy your tea?'
'Yes very much, thank you.' He says meekly.
'So, is there anything else I can do for you Perry?'
'Yes, maybe.'
'Oh. What's that?'
'Can I whisper it to you?'
'Of course. I'm all ears.'
I leant over towards him as he leant towards me, raising his hand to his mouth right next to my ear.
I asked him to repeat what he'd said.
'Really?'
'Yes.'
I was happy, very happy to grant his request, a mutual willy fiddle, during a lunchtime stroll around the litter strewn School Field. It only took a few moments, hands dipped into underpants for half a minute, but the incongruity of it all will stick with me for a long time. The po round-faced boy in spectacles. It was just something he wanted to do, so we did it. As we walked along, we discussed where we could do the deed, which got both of us going. Behind a convenient bush, undoing him, I put my hand through the front of his grey school trousers and found a pocket sized and half-firm penis buried inside his surprisingly modern underpants. His balls had to be somewhere in there too.
'Inside!' He insists.
There's a shirt tail to negotiate, and the elastic waistband to get down low enough, but with that achieved, I can appreciate the boy properly, both the visual qualities and the tactile, of Peregrine Merciful's private parts, just as he could mine, all with absolutely no harm done, or anything else done.
A couple of days later Perry approached John and I out on the school playing fields. In the better weather we had abandoned the library in favour of plein air chats about everything and nothing. We'd found a good spot in the far corner of the Field where not even the most ardent lunch time mutual masturbators went to relieve themselves into the longer grass. Perry must have spotted us making our way there. I had been tasked by Anna to wake the boys this morning. I'd got Richard out of bed first who was as usual in an interesting state, and, by the way, getting a bigger boy by the day it seems. With him in the one bathroom in the house, he had his ten minutes to get a bowel movement achieved, and everything else done, if he could. That left me to see to Johnny which I did quite quickly. I lay, as usual, a square of tissue on his tummy, and brought him off by hand whilst kissing my boy on his delectable mouth, him pulling at my hair. That way I miss out on something I do like very much, especially from him, but it suits Johnny this way so that's fine. He wants to be kissed on the mouth all the way through the operation, and when John's really in the mood, he comes fast and furious, and first thing in the morning is definitely Johnny's time of the day. I keep going well after his orgasm has subsided, still gently rubbing him up and kissing him with our tongues nicely entangled. I don't know what he'd had in his mind, but there was nothing much on the square of tissue. I should have placed it far higher. By the time a naked Richard wanders back into the bedroom, John's pulling clean pants up his ever-lengthening legs. Domestic bliss indeed.
'Every good boy deserves fucking.' Perry Merciful reminds us.
Any boy or girl learning the rudiments of music will know it; the notes on the staff. The treble cleff. As I've mentioned above, what I learned was ' E very G ood B oy D eserves F udge, the notes from the bottom of the staff upwards being E, G, B, D, and F. Of course we all knew the alternative. Similarly in the base cleff, G ood B oys D eserve F ine A rses, or A pples at it officially should be.
When Perry finds us, John and I are lying fully clothed in the grass, the un-mown stuff beyond those areas that the boys use for games. There's nothing naughty going on, just him spooned into my front. I know I've made it sound like there's sexy stuff going on all day and every day, but there isn't. Under our circumstances it can't. Three times a week maybe?
'What brought that on Perry?' I ask, my hand round John's tummy.
'Do you two do it then? Do you do fucking together?' Asks Perry, kneeling before us, his hands held together. I think he genuinely wants to know.
'That's an odd question Perry. Is it of interest to you if we do, perchance?'
'Yes. Do you?'
'No of course not!'
'I bet you do. Is it nice?'
'How would I know Perry? How old are you anyway Perry?'
'Twelve. And a half.' He adds, as if the 'half' might make a difference. To me it makes no difference at all. When the boy removes his specs, he looks very different. It's odd how different a boy can look without his glasses.
'That's far too young to be thinking about such things Perry. Why don't you beetle off to the music room and do a little more piano practice? And don't repeat what you just said. It'll give the choirboys the wrong idea. Fudge Perry, not the other thing. And apples , not arses, please .' I say, with some tongue-in-cheek emphasis.
'Do you have to be big to do it?' Perry goes on, undeterred.
'Big? Big what?'
'Willy. Do you have to have a big willy to do it?'
'I wouldn't have thought so Perry. Have you got doubts about yours then? Isn't it big enough?' I tease, hoping we'll get to see it. He'll probably fall for that old trick.
'Can I show you?'
There you are. I told you.
'Of course, but only if you want to?' I say, sounding both surprised and pleased.
Perry gets himself up on his knees, undoing the fasteners at the front of his school trousers and they fall down around his knees. Pretty little underpants next. Entirely satisfactory. So here it is, Perry Merciful's very typical little cocklet.
'I can make it big if you want?'
'That would be nice.' I say encouragingly.
So he does, and while all this is going on, John has been very quiet. I feel I need to check something with him, and when I do, I have to smile. Naughty boy. But remember, I'm leaving the school, and Johnny, in a matter of days. Johnny's got another four years of this lot.
'Do you want to see inside?' Perry goes on, tugging his foreskin back and forth. There's nothing wrong with this one. Nothing at all.
'Do you mean your bottom Perry? I suppose we might…… should just have a quick look Perry. Just to make sure.' I say with just a hint of false doubt in my voice.
He's on his back, knees pulled up, his pants stretched wide between them, and beautifully exposed. With his two hands he pulls his buttocks wide apart.
It was a dormitory game at S. Endellions, baring bottoms like that. When you've seen one you've seen them all really. More or less pigmentation, more or less puckered? And all the same inside, if you got a good view of that. From an early age I knew what I wanted to know. That it was nothing to do with all that, but it had to do with the person. It's when you form an attachment to another boy, that's when things like cocks and bums become anything like significant. Not until then. Then it becomes sexual and interesting. Perry's parts, as he insisted he showed us, are just like any others, give or take, but when he forms an attachment with another person, only then do such things become significant.
Despite my fantasies, I never got that far with Quintus, more is the pity of it all. For what we are about to receive, may I be truly thankful? I wish, as he kneels between my legs, poised with his circumcised weapon in one hand, full to the brim, and ready to fill me to the brim.
There I go again.
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