Aurora Tapestry

By John Ellison (Of Blessed Memory)

Published on Jul 8, 2004

Gay

AURORA TAPESTRY is the third book in a series. It chronicles the lives and times of a group of men and teenage boys living in an age and an environment where being gay was to be despised, maligned and scorned. It is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, is purely coincidental.

My writing reflects the customs, mores, traditions, prejudices and attitudes of the times. The year is 1976 and it was a different world. Some of the attitudes will no doubt offend those who are so determinedly politically correct that they are unable to conceive that others might have a different opinion or outlook. Please, do not write me hooting and hollering about your cause, prejudices, preferences or whatever. I am not into causes. I AM a grumpy old sailor and I do not suffer fools gladly. Be warned.

In 1976 the AIDS pandemic was only just infecting North America. Condoms were used primarily to prevent pregnancy and gay men never gave a thought to having sex with a condom. Do not, I beg you, let what was common in 1976 influence your conduct today. Always practice safe sex.

As my writings detail scenarios of gay sex - tastefully, I hope - in sometimes graphic detail, I must warn that in some states, provinces, cities and towns reading, possessing, downloading, etc., is illegal, or if you are not of legal age to read, possess, download, etc., works of erotica, please move on.

Aurora Tapestry - Chapter 13

Colin's eyes rolled back in his head as his body arched and his fingers and toes became talons, tearing at the sheet beneath his flushed body. >From somewhere deep within him a second orgasm, more intense than anything he had ever felt before, rolled through his body and from the depths of his throat came the low, guttural, feral cry of, "Fuuuccckkk!" as a slow stream of semen oozed from the slit in his turgid glans.

Colin could feel the softness caress the underside of his hard, firm penis, a soft feather of delight drawing upward to kiss the underside of his penis just where the shaft joined the head. He felt the gentleness of what felt like the softest of silk stimulating the minute blond hairs that lined his perineum and another orgasm, harder, longer, more intense than the last rolled through him, setting every part of his body alight.

A loud groan rose from the depths of Colin's soul and again the sounds of his passion filled the room, "Fuuuccckkk!" His penis bucked and a stronger pulse of his seed oozed outward and began dribbling down the shaft of his penis. The silkiness, the gentleness continued and suddenly it happened again and the most intense, incredible, orgasm he had ever experienced caused him to buck and thrust.

Every cell of Colin's body, every organ, every part of him, blazed with the most incredible pleasure he had ever known. He could feel his pee slit open as his pulsing, throbbing penis ejaculated more of his semen and he groaned a final, heart-stopping, gut wrenching, "Fuuuccckkk!"

As the last of this penultimate, indescribable orgasm began to drain from his body, Colin collapsed, breathing harshly. His heart, which had been pounding rapidly and threatening to explode from his chest, began to slow. He could feel the soft, wet, warmth of a tongue slowly cleansing his flushed glans and twitched, trying to pull away. He groaned softly, moaning his pleasure and all too soon he began to recover. Colin opened his eyes and saw the most incredible green, dark-lashed eyes staring back at him. He managed a crooked smile as he said, "What did you do to me?"

The Phantom reached down and slowly ran his finger around the outline of Colin's testicles, which had drawn up into his body. Smiling tenderly, The Phantom whispered, "I took you across the river."

"Jesus!" groaned Colin. "It must have been the Mississippi!" Then he reached out his arms. "C'mere," he growled throatily.

"What?"

"Come here," returned Colin forcefully. He pulled The Phantom to him and for a long while they lay together, snuggling gently. Finally, Colin said, "I have never known such pleasure, Phantom. I can never, ever, begin to describe the intensity of what just happened."

The Phantom giggled and began nibbling at Colin's ear. "That is what was supposed to happen. I wanted to do it to you when we were in your cabin, but it didn't seem right."

Reaching down, Colin felt The Phantom's warm testicles and soft penis. The glans was sticky with precum and he gently rubbed his thumb over the head of The Phantom's penis. "You haven't cum yet," he whispered.

"I told you, giving you pleasure gives me pleasure," replied The Phantom.

"It doesn't seem right, somehow," said Colin presently. "You've taken me to places I never knew existed, given me pleasures that I only dreamed about. I should . . ."

The Phantom slowly ran his hand down the soft, downy treasure trail that led from Colin's navel to his thick, dark blond, pubic bush. He lifted Colin's soft penis and gently squeezed the rosy pink head. "Colin, you don't have to do anything to me, okay?"

Colin squirmed in delight as The Phantom began to squeeze and fondle his genitals. "Oh, God," he moaned. "I so want to please you, Phantom!" His hand began to squeeze The Phantom's penis. "I want to taste you, to feel you. I want to do everything I can to give you the pleasure you have given me."

The Phantom pulled away and kissed the tip of Colin's nose. His emerald eyes twinkled and his smile, his smile drove Colin mad with desire. "Colin, tell me the truth. Are you straight, and just fucking around? Or are you gay?"

A strange look crossed Colin's face. "I . . . I . . . really don't know," he said presently. "Before I met you I thought I was straight." He smiled at The Phantom and reached out to caress his nipples. "But you know, I never felt, well, satisfied. I mean it felt good at the time, when I was fucking a girl, I mean, and it felt good when a girl sucked my dick. But . . ." He shrugged expressively.

"But?" asked The Phantom. He leaned down and began to lick each of Colin's nipples in turn.

Squirming, Colin moaned softly and said, "When I said in my cabin that you'd given me my first blow job, 'member?" He arched his body as The Phantom's finger found his pink rosebud.

As Colin spread his legs, The Phantom began nipping gently at each rubbery, hard nub of Colin's nipples. "It takes a guy, Colin. Only a guy can really pleasure another guy." He withdrew and reached out, his fingers finding the tube of Vaseline that he had placed on the bedside table.

Looking at The Phantom through half-closed eyes, Colin nodded. "When I first saw you on board the ship, Phantom, something happened. It was if, for the very first time, the real me was suddenly there! I wanted you, to be with you, to hold you, to . . ." he hesitated, and then plunged ahead. "To love you! Only you." He could not help himself. Again he pulled The Phantom close against his body, kissing him passionately. "I . . . need . . . you . . ." he gasped between kisses. "I . . . can't . . . explain it . . . I just . . . know . . . that . . . I need . . . you!"

Trying not to let Colin's ardour overwhelm him, The Phantom pulled back a bit. "Colin . . ." "No!" snapped Colin. "I know you're in love with someone else. I can accept that. Can't you just, please, love me a little bit?" he asked pleadingly.

Once again an intoxicating smile spread across The Phantom's face. "Colin, I do love you, and more than a little bit," he replied, his voice low and husky. "If I didn't I wouldn't be doing this," he finished as his hand slowly massaged a huge glob of Vaseline onto the warm skin of Colin's hard penis.

Colin gasped at The Phantom's touch, not quite believing what was about to happen. "I . . ." he struggled to find the words.

The Phantom' warm hand against his lips stopped Colin. Smiling, The Phantom straddled Colin's hips and he reached back to grasp the thick column of flesh that rose from Colin's widespread legs. "You've had girls, Colin," The Phantom whispered softly. "Now you are going to have a man!"

Colin saw The Phantom rising upward. He knew what was about to happen and reached out his hands to grasp The Phantom's waist. "No," he said harshly. "You're right, I have fucked girls. But now I'm going to make love to a man!" He pushed The Phantom away and down onto the bed, and then knelt between The Phantom's legs. "I will make love to you, Phantom. I won't fuck you."

Before The Phantom could answer Colin leaned down and began to lick and nip his way down The Phantom's chest and stomach. Soon enough his lips found the bright, rosy head of The Phantom's erection and he sucked gently. The Phantom groaned at the pleasure Colin brought to him, the pleasurable feelings increasing as Colin's lips and hands found every point on The Phantom's body that would drive him closer and closer to ecstasy.

Colin licked, and nibbled, sucked and nuzzled The Phantom's ears, his eyes, his lips, his nipples, his soft treasure trail, the head of his penis, the inside of his legs, his testicles and finally, Colin's tongue traced the pathway from The Phantom's testicles to his rosebud where he began to do something that until now, until this night, he had always thought abhorrent. He began to gently lick and tongue The Phantom's rosebud, causing the youth to buck and squirm, all but squealing with pleasure.

Gasping, The Phantom raised his hips offering more and more of his body to Colin. He reached down and ran his fingers through Colin's close-cropped hair, moaning with the pleasure he felt.

Colin straightened and then shuffled forward. He reached down and pushed the head of his turgid erection against the soft, wrinkled flesh. He pushed gently and looked at The Phantom, his blue eyes bright with desire and lust. "I . . . will . . . never . . . fuck . . . you!" Colin declared as the rosy pink, domed glans of his penis entered The Phantom's body. He pushed gently forward until the warm flesh of The Phantom's body enveloped his penis, hard with desire. He began a long, slow, methodical, rhythmic thrusting, biting his lips to keep from screaming out the glorious feelings he felt surging through him.

The Phantom gasped as the head of Colin's penis entered him, and then wrapped his legs around Colin's thrusting hips. His eyes sparkled with need and desire.

Colin leaned down and began to kiss The Phantom feverously. "Tell . . . me . . . please . . ." he groaned with each inward thrust of his penis. "Tell . . . me . . . that . . . we . . . can . . . be . . . together . . .!" he moaned with each thrust. He withdrew until just the head of his penis was inside The Phantom, then pushed slowly inward. "Tell . . . me . . ." he begged.

With each inward thrust the head of Colin's penis brushed against The Phantom's prostate. The youth groaned as the exquisite feelings roared through his body. He was too far lost in the pleasures he felt and could not answer Colin. He reached out and pulled Colin to him. Colin's thrusting increased and his lips once again found The Phantom's. Deep within his body The Phantom could feel Colin's penis grow longer and thicken. Then, without warning Colin thrust viciously forward and his body stiffened. His penis throbbed as his seed, his warm, sweet semen, cascaded deep into his lover's body.

Spent, Colin collapsed onto The Phantom. They lay together, barely moving, holding one another until Colin's soft penis slipped gently from The Phantom's body. Colin rolled to one side, never releasing his grip on the flushed, hot body that he knew now he adored.

They kissed and fondled each other until finally, The Phantom smiled and said, "We cannot be together as lovers, Colin. But we can be together. Tonight, tonight was so special!" He began to pull away. "I know it's not what you want, what you hoped for, but that's the way of it, sometimes."

A look of infinite sadness crossed Colin's flushed, handsome face. "You're right," he muttered. "Just when I find someone like you, he's snatched away!"

The Phantom reached out to gently stroke Colin's face. "Colin, don't," he said softly.

Colin sobbed and nodded his head. "Just tell me that I mean something to you," he demanded. "Tell me that . . ."

"Colin, you will always be someone I will treasure," replied The Phantom emotionally. "I do care for you, and yes, you do mean much more than 'something' to me. We can be friends, we can be lovers, we just can't be partners." He lay down beside Colin and took the young officer in his arms. "You touched something deep within me, Colin, and for that I will always remember you."

Colin did not reply at first. He slowly traced the outline of The Phantom's body with his hand and then whispered, "You brought me to a place I refused to admit existed. You showed me the real, inner, Colin Arnott. I won't lie to you, Phantom, I'm in love with you! Call it infatuation, call it love, call it lust, call it whatever you want to call it, but I do want you, and I do need you." He face fell and a single tear trickled out of the corner of his eye. "I will always be in love with you," he finished with a thin smile. Then he reached out his hand.

"What?" asked The Phantom as Colin slowly began to stroke his lover's soft penis into hardness.

"Make love to me," Colin asked, trying to keep the nervousness he felt out his voice. "Make love to me, hold me, hold me!"


The Phantom awoke as he had slept, cradled in Colin's strong arms. Their warm, flushed bodies were pressed close together and The Phantom's left hand was resting softly on Colin's firmly muscled stomach, rising and falling gently with his lover's breathing. The Phantom's head was pressed against Colin's shoulder and he could feel Colin's soft breath riffling the hair on the top his head.

Smiling contentedly, The Phantom snuggled closer to Colin, and was rewarded with a gentle squeeze. The Phantom was truly happy, and felt a contentment the like of which he had never really known. Then pangs of regret began to fill his mind. He knew that he was very attracted to Colin, and that their love-making had been so beautiful, and fulfilling, that he would always remember their night together.

Still, The Phantom could not help but feel that he was betraying The Gunner. He tried to rationalize his feelings, and his conduct, by telling himself that except for the first time that they had slept together, The Gunner had not really held him in his arms, certainly not all night. Usually, after they made love, they cuddled and necked, and then one, or the other would drift off. He also tried to tell himself that what he and Colin had was transitory, something that happened, and that after today, or tomorrow, they would never see each other again.

But it did feel nice, lying here with Colin, warm, wonderful, beautiful Colin. The Phantom raised his head and regarded the sleeping young man, admiring his face, the firm muscles of his chest, the perfect proportions of a beautifully bodied male.

Gently, The Phantom pulled away and raised himself into a sitting position. He sat on the bed, just watching Colin as he breathed softly. His eyes drifted down Colin's body, taking in his treasure trail, a dusting of light brown hair that stretched from his navel to the curling hairs of his pubic bush. His green eyes gazed hungrily at Colin's soft penis, again perfectly proportioned to his body, a delightful pink and slightly tan shaft, smooth and unmarred, save for the most gentle of a pale, pale circumcision ring, that lay over his testicles, two perfect oval-shaped orbs contained in a silky soft scrotum.

A low chuckle broke the silence of the bedroom. "The last time I saw a look like that it was in a Walt Disney cartoon and the Big Bad Wolf was about to eat one of the Three Little Pigs!" Colin opened his eyes fully and grinned. "Are you going to eat me, or do I get lucky again?"

Laughing, The Phantom leaned forward and kissed the curving, perfect glans that crowned Colin's penis. "If I ate you, you wouldn't get lucky again, now would you?" The Phantom said huskily. He lay down again and laid his head on Colin's stomach, his hand slowly tracing the length of Colin's penis. "You know, I never really thought about it before, but I'm glad you're circumcised. A foreskin would really mar your beauty."

Colin sucked in his breath. "I wish you wouldn't say that!" he said in mock anger, secretly delighting in The Phantom's frank admiration.

"Why, it's true," asserted The Phantom. "You are beautiful! I know most guys don't like being told that, but it's the truth, so get used to it! You're perfect, Colin Arnott, and I'm glad that I listened to . . ."

"Listened to whom?" asked Colin as he reached down to stroke The Phantom's scrotum.

Pulling away from Colin, The Phantom sat up. He reached out and took Colin's hands in his, kissed them, and then spoke softly. "After our session in your cabin, I felt, well, guilty about what I'd done. I was moping and Cory Arundel - he's one of my greatest friends - hauled me out of my mope. He told me I was a fool for letting you get away, for not going with my heart." He flopped down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. "I really do care for you, Colin."

"I know," replied Colin carefully. "But you still love Steve Winslow." There, he had said it, and now the truth could be told.

The Phantom's jaw dropped. He looked at Colin who shrugged. Falling back onto the bed, The Phantom asked, "Was I that transparent?"

"Like a pane of window glass," replied Colin. He drew The Phantom into his arms and kissed him deeply. "I'm not stupid, Phantom," he said when they drew apart. "I hear your voice when you talk about him, and I see that look that comes into your eyes." He nuzzled The Phantom's neck. "You are capable of great love, and last night you gave a little of it to me. I know that no matter what happens all I will ever have of you is a little piece."

The Phantom slid his leg over Colin's and with his right hand began to gently caress Colin's chest. "Do you think it's possible to love more than one man?"

Colin's hopes rose. "I suppose so. I never really thought about it. Why, are you . . . are you saying that you might . . . love . . . me?"

"What I'm saying is that right now you are the only man I want to be with. Right now you are the only man in the world and I want him to make love to me."


Afterward, while Colin showered, The Phantom went downstairs to make their breakfast. He could hear Colin's clear tenor singing above the rushing waters of the shower and smiled. The man was truly, deeply, in love and The Phantom was suddenly very sorry that today would end.

Colin, wearing his tighty-whiteys, came into the kitchen and sat at the table. For a long while he smiled at The Phantom, who smiled back and said, "What?"

"You're beautiful, Phantom," murmured Colin, his eyes bright with the love he felt. "I don't think I've ever seen anyone as beautiful. I'm head over heels in love with you, you know."

Sighing, The Phantom nodded his head, and put a plate of food in front of Colin. "And I'm falling in love with you." He grinned and pointed at the food. "Now eat."

Colin, his spirits soaring, could scarcely believe his ears. "You mean it?" he asked.

"I mean it," replied The Phantom. He sat down and sighed. "You've managed to touch something deep inside me, Colin Arnott, and I'm not sure how I'll ever be able to see you leave."

"Which we'll being doing. Probably tomorrow," replied Colin with a soft sigh. He smiled at The Phantom. "We still have today, though." Then he added, much to The Phantom's surprise, "And I don't want to spend it in bed!"

"Uh, what do you mean?"

The look on The Phantom's face contained a wealth of information. Colin had no idea just what The Phantom's relationship with Steve Winslow had entailed, but he had sneaking suspicion that much of it had been spent in bed. "Phantom, we're standing a Harbour Watch. The Chief Engineer never goes ashore and he looks after the boat. I'm free and I'd like to take a walk with you. You can show me the town, we can have lunch together, maybe just sit on the Esplanade and watch the world go by."

Colin did not think it possible, but The Phantom's eyes grew wider. "You mean we'd walk around town, together? In the daytime?" asked the astonished Phantom.

Pushing aside his plate of half-eaten breakfast, Colin leaned forward and took The Phantom's hand. "Tell me the truth, Phantom. I know that you're in love with Steve, but did he ever just . . . was he just with you, did he ever say, come on, let's go out for a drive, or a swim?"

"He . . . he was always so busy," began The Phantom loyally. "And we had dinner together, a couple of times! And he . . ."

"Phantom, the truth," demanded Colin as gently as he could.

"Well, we had breakfast, before we went to Victoria, and we had supper on the way back. And he did take me into town once and . . . I was on the sailing trip with him and . . ."

"Were you ever just together?"

"No." "Phantom, I don't want you to compare him to me, please," said Colin. "You are though, and I want you to understand that I am not Steve Winslow! I'm not your Gunner and I never will be. I'll love you, I'll hold you, but I will not pretend to be his replacement!"

"I never slept in his arms," The Phantom blurted out.

"What?"

"He would make love to me, and afterwards, we'd cuddle, but he never held me all night, I never slept in his arms." Suddenly The Phantom was crying. "Cory held me, and Matt, and Ray. Todd held me. You held me, and made me feel as if nothing could ever hurt me so long as I was in your arms."

"Ah, Phantom, I didn't mean to . . ." Colin moved quickly to stand behind The Phantom. He held the young man in his arms and buried his face in The Phantom's soft hair. "I'm sorry. I should not have tried to come between you!"

The Phantom sniffed loudly and quickly wiped the tears from his eyes. "You haven't, and it's true. He never held me the way you held me. We never just went out, you know, for a beer, or lunch, or anything. He was always so afraid that people would find out about us. I didn't care, I don't care, but he did. He didn't want me to be hurt, you see, and . . ."

"Oh, Phantom, can you blame him? I know his situation well and I can understand where he's coming from. He was protecting you. I understand that. I've seen what can happen when a gay is discovered, what people think."

"He told me that if ever SIU found out, he'd probably be sent to jail. He said that if it ever came out that I was his lover, that I'd be ruined for life." He began blubbering again. "I hated all the sneaking around, the pretending, but he said we had to do it! People hate gays. God hates queers!" He turned around and grasped Colin's waist tightly. "I'm a queer, a faggot," he wailed. "I . . ."

Colin's face grew red. He reached down and pulled the weeping youth to his feet and then shook him, fiercely. "Now you listen to me, Phantom!" he all but shouted. "You're a wonderful, glorious man and nobody, not man, not God hates you!"

"Then why did he leave me?" snapped The Phantom. "Why is he never coming back?" He pulled away angrily. "I am so fucking angry I could spit! I want to hit something, I want to . . ."

Colin held out his chin and pointed at it with his finger. "Go ahead!"

"What?"

"Hit me! Lay one on me. Cream my clock! Ring my bell!"

"You're crazy!" The Phantom took a step back. "Get away from me!"

"Nope" Colin reached out and grasped The Phantom's still-clenched fist. "Come on, do it! Get it out of your system! Hit me!" The Phantom's jaw dropped and then, alternately laughing and crying, he hugged Colin close. "I could never hit you, you big goof!"

Colin pulled The Phantom's head close to rest on his shoulder. He ran his fingers through The Phantom's hair and said, softly. "I love you. I want to be with you, and I will never do anything to hurt you. I don't care what people think about us! Fuck 'em! I want to laugh and yell, and hell, I'd run buck assed naked down the middle of Comox Road, proclaiming to the rooftops my love for you!"

The Phantom giggled. "You wouldn't dare!"

"Aha!" Colin released The Phantom, quickly pushed down his tighty-whiteys and stepped out of them. Grinning, Colin scooped up his underpants and taunted as he twirled the white briefs around and around. "Bare balls, regimental, commando, with every dangling bit on parade?" He thrust out his hips, wiggling and setting his soft genitals to bouncing. "How about it, Phantom, you and me together?" He reached out and made to push down The Phantom's boxers. "We'll run down the street together! Hell, I'll hold your hand for you! What do you say?"

"Now I know you're crazy!" yelped The Phantom as he quickly sidestepped Colin's grasp. "You leave my undies alone! Colin, no . . ." protested The Phantom half-heartedly as Colin continued his assault. "Aw, Colin, stop . . ."

"Come on, Phantom, let's do it, just us, nekkid!"

Colin's whispering laugh was intoxicating and The Phantom could not resist. He draped his arms around Colin's neck and felt his boxers slowly descend down his thighs and legs and settle into a soft pile around his ankles. He looked into Colin's lovely eyes and giggled. "You'd do it, too."

"Betcha ass!" returned Colin. The smile that crossed Colin's face almost caused The Phantom's heart to stop beating. "I would walk naked to Victoria, Phantom," whispered Colin.

"I'd say that you'd probably do it." The Phantom leaned forward, about to kiss Colin, and then he stopped frowned. "But don't you dare!"

Laughing, they hugged and kissed and then Colin handed The Phantom his briefs. "Here, blow your nose."

The Phantom looked stricken. "Colin! They're your underpants! I can't blow my nose in your underpants!"

"And why not? They were clean when I put them on just before I left the ship. I've barely had them on my butt more than two hours!"

"And they're going right on your butt again!" returned The Phantom. "I am not about to take you back to the ship wearing those shorts with no undies on! What would people say?"

Colin laughed and pointed at his soft penis hanging over his low-hanging testicles. "Why they'd say that Lieutenant Colin Arnott has a very nice set of upper deck fittings." But he slipped his underpants back on. "And why would you care about me being regimental? We are not exactly talking King Kong, you know!"

The Phantom draped his arms around Colin's neck and kissed him softly. "Well, it isn't the Pride of the Fleet, but I like it."

Colin returned the kiss. "I bet you tell that to all the sailors."

"Only the very special ones," replied The Phantom. He reached down and cupped Colin's briefs covered genitals. "The very, very special sailors."

"Does this mean you don't want to go into town? I would like to, you know."

"It's Sunday," replied The Phantom. "The shops don't open until noon."

"I guess that means we'll have to find something to do until then."

The Phantom pushed his hands between Colin's warm skin and the broad elastic band of his briefs. "I'm sure we can think of something," he said with a giggle.


"Colin, we don't have to go into town, you know," said The Phantom as Colin left the bed. "I know you don't mind being seen with me, but it's . . ."

Colin turned and shook his head. "I want to take you into town, all right? I want to walk down the street with you and pretend that I'm holding you close." His eyes grew soft and warm. "I want to pretend that for a little while I'm on the town with the most wonderful person in my life. On the town, not afraid of what people say, or how they look at us. I know we'd have to behave, but I can pretend!"

The Phantom rolled and sat up. He looked at Colin and nodded his head. "All right, but first I have to take you back to your ship."

"Why would I want to go back there? I told you that were on Harbour Routine. I don't have to be back until tomorrow morning!"

Sighing in exasperation, The Phantom patted the mattress and motioned for Colin to sit beside him. "Now listen, Colin," he said when his new lover had settled himself. "This is Comox, not Toronto. If we were in Toronto we could walk down the street together, and nobody would give a second thought to me being with a handsome stud wearing nothing but a T-shirt, Adidas shorts and Jesus boots!"

"Now what does what I'm wearing have to do with anything?" demanded Colin. "They're clean and paid for, and I happen to think I look good in them!"

"You do, and that's the problem!" replied The Phantom with a giggle. "People will look at you and wonder what Phantom Lascelles, whom they all know, is doing with the handsome young stranger."

"So? Introduce me!" returned Colin. "I will, but in the right way, and at the right time," said The Phantom. He stood up and placed a hand on Colin's shoulder. "I want you to try to understand that if there is one thing Steve Winslow, The Gunner, taught me, it is the art of camouflage. I want to walk with you, and if I could, I'd hold your hand. But I can't, and you can't and I won't go to town and have people wonder what we're doing together."

"Screw 'em," snarled Colin in reply.

"No thank you." The Phantom spoke very slowly. "Colin, you are a wonderful, loving man. I want only the best for you, and I won't do anything to compromise you. By the same token I have to live here after you've gone. You'll be sailing tomorrow and I'll still be here and I am not really looking forward to trying to explain to my father what I was doing downtown, in civvies, with a strange man, when I'm supposed to be out in Aurora. Which is what I would have to do because sure as you turn my clock, some busybody will make it his or her business to let my father know!"

Crestfallen, Colin had to admit that The Phantom was right. "So then, what do we do?" he asked.

"Well, we give 'em what they want." He saw the curious look on Colin's face and explained. "People are used to seeing cadets wandering around. They are also used to seeing cadets accompanied by an officer. It's been going on for years and years and nobody would give it a second thought. I sometimes think that all people see is the uniform, never the face." He shrugged. "So we let them see two sailors on a ramble. I'll drive you back to the ship and then scoot out to Aurora, which is where my uniforms are, change, and then come back. If we get really lucky the YAG crews will come ashore - it's Sunday and they'll all have shore leave, you know - and if that happens there will be a shit locker full of cadets walking about."

"You've got it all figured out, then?"

"You betcha ass!" returned The Phantom, grinning. "Always keep two steps ahead of the other fellow and cover your ass." Then,laughing, The Phantom warned, "And if we meet with the rest of the guys, and Cory is with them, for God's sake don't use the heads!"

Colin grinned. "If he decides to check me out I'll give him a show!" He turned and ran his finger down the curving, perfect mound of his right butt. "A real show!"

"Oh no you won't," declared The Phantom. He leaped up and whispered into Colin's ear.

Colin's eyes widened. "You're kidding! Really?"

Nodding rapidly The Phantom replied with a snicker. "He'll shit a brick!"


When he reached the bottom of the gangway, Colin saw two leather suitcases and a green canvas kit bag sitting on the jetty. He immediately recognized the luggage. It appeared that Sub-Lieutenant Neal Menzies was moving. At the top of the gangway the Buffer greeted Colin with a slight wave and a shaking head. Colin halted at attention briefly and then stepped lightly onto the well deck. He jerked his head back toward the luggage. "What happened?" he asked, knowing that his cabin-mate had done something so outrageous that he was being put ashore.

The Buffer, who was an old hand, chuckled. "Neal got his end wet. Too bad the Old Man caught him," he said bluntly.

"He what?"

"In the paint locker," said the Buffer. "Got a ha'penny upright from one of those bimbos that were hanging around. Hope it was worth it 'cause his ass is fried."

Colin stared at the open door leading into the foc'sle. "In the paint locker?"

"In the paint locker," confirmed the Buffer.


Lieutenant Commander Edmonds returned to his ship filled with bonhomie and camaraderie. He had spent a very pleasant evening with Frank Stockman and Charlie Hazelton, spinning dips and reminiscing. It had been a very pleasant evening and he looked forward to tomorrow, when he would dine with the Commanding Officer of Aurora and his lady.

As he approached the gangway, Commander Edmonds noted that the Duty Quartermaster was hanging about the starboard waist, and not at his post at the head of the gangway. He also saw the large, bulky form of Moose Lacroix, the Chief Engineer, who had a face on him like a thundercloud, and as he neared the hull of the gate boat Commander Edmonds heard . . .

"What," he demanded of the Chief Engineer, "is that noise?" Commander Edmonds scowled, listening intently. "It sounds like a pig hunting truffles!"

Moose did not know what a pig hunting truffles sounded like, but he was prepared to take the Old Man's word for it. "Sub-Lieutenant Menzies has a guest," Moose said enigmatically.

"A pig?" asked Edmonds innocently.

"In a manner of speaking," returned Moose blandly. "He's entertaining in the paint locker."

Lieutenant-Commander Edmond's eyes bulged from his head and his jaw dropped. From forward came a loud shriek and he stormed forward, tripping over the coaming, barking his shin and not improving his temper one iota. Forward, and to port he heard more shrieks and squeals. He stopped, took a deep breath, and pulled open the door to the paint locker.

Before him, pressed against the metal table where the boatswains mixed the paint, was a girl, blond, obviously underage, with her head buried in Sub-Lieutenant Menzies ear. Her legs were wrapped around his waist and she was moaning as Menzies' dark behind thrust rapidly toward her. His green uniform trousers and white underpants were gathered around his ankles and his hands were squeezing the girl's breasts.

Commander Edmonds could not believe what he was seeing. He could not believe what he was hearing.

"Like it baby? Like my dick in you," Menzies gasped loudly. "Gonna fuck you good, baby! Like my dick? Want my cum? Gonna give to ya, baby . . . oh yeah, gonna fuck ya . . . ah baby, here it comes, a load for ya baby . . ."

Menzies suddenly stiffened and thrust violently upward, his body trembling as his orgasm possessed him. He thrust viciously again and again, depositing his semen in the girl's body. He was so busy finishing his act of lust that he did not hear the girl squeal or see her eyes open wide. He did hear the almighty roar that filled the cabin.

"Menzies!"

Neal pulled out of Louise Metcalfe and stumbled back as the angry face of his commanding officer took in the sight of the half-naked girl, who was hastily trying to cover her breasts and vagina with her hands, and his Navigating Officer, his shirt open, naked from the waist down, with his long, thin penis wilting rapidly, the brown foreskin slowly encasing the semen-streaked, plum purple head.

With shaking finger, Commander Edmonds pointed at Louise. "You! Cover yourself and get off my ship!" His finger moved. "And you! Pull up your pants!"

Louise quickly slid off of the table, found her panties and shorts, and skittered past Menzies and Edmonds. As she stampeded down the gangway Edmonds glared at Menzies. "You will clean yourself, dress into a clean uniform, and be outside my cabin in ten minutes!"


Colin, his vision of a pleasant afternoon in town rapidly vanishing, listened as the Buffer finished his tale. He sighed heavily and looked up and aft, toward the closed door of the Commanding Officer's cabin. "I suppose he wants to see me?"

"Didn't say," replied the Buffer.

At that moment the door to the Commanding Officer's cabin opened and Sub-Lieutenant Menzies, a stunned, frightened look on his face, exited. Wordlessly he dropped down the ladder to the waist and, not acknowledging Colin's presence, left the ship. He picked up his bags and began to plod toward the entrance to the jetty.

From above came the Commanding Officer's voice. "Colin, a minute, please?"


"Obviously you've heard," Lieutenant Commander Edmonds as Colin entered his cabin. He pushed the extra chair toward Colin and gestured for him to sit down. "That kid has a death wish!"

"From what I heard more of an overactive libido!" replied Colin.

A momentary glare flashed from Edmonds' eyes. Then his face softened. "The sad thing, Colin, is that he is not stupid. Neal had the potential to be a good officer. He just couldn't keep his pecker in his pants!"

"You gave him more than enough chances to clean up his act, sir," commiserated Colin. "You have nothing to be sorry for. I would have sent his ass flying back to Esquimalt long since."

Edmonds regard Colin and then said, "When you have your own command, and you will, you will try to do everything you can to save the ones with that you perceive to have potential. Lord knows, I tried with Neal Menzies." He took a deep breath. "But I failed and now he's on his way back home. He'll never walk a deck again."

"He was his own worst enemy. You didn't invite that girl on board, or take her into the paint locker. He did." Colin stood up. "I'll go and clean into the rig of the day."

Lieutenant Commander Edmonds started. "Whatever for?"

"Somebody has to be Officer of the Day," Colin pointed out.

"Were you planning on spending the day aboard?" asked Edmonds.

"Well, no. I was going to go ashore and have lunch with Phantom Lascelles, you know the young cadet who . . ."

"The one the tree fell on?"

"Yes. I met him ashore last night and spent the night at his place. He's a good kid and I asked if I could buy him lunch."

Colin had deliberately not said whom he had asked. Commander Edmonds, who knew Colin to be a bit of a hound with the ladies, and not having any reason to think otherwise, assumed that the young officer had asked one, or both, of Lascelles' parents.

Edmonds nodded. "Frank Stockdale was singing his praises. Apparently the kid can drive a ship."

Colin tried to contain his enthusiasm at The Phantom's ship handling abilities. "He can that! Why, he was better than I am, or . . ."

"You better not be thinking about me," growled Edmonds in mock anger.

"Ah, well, no sir," replied Colin sheepishly.

"Well, bring him around when you return aboard. I'd like to meet this paragon."

"But I thought . . ."

"Colin, you've been working your butt off, doing the job of three officers, and covering for Menzies. Go ashore, enjoy yourself. I am quite certain that between the Chief, the Buffer and myself we'll manage to keep the old hulk afloat." Commander Edmonds smiled thinly. "Enjoy yourself. We sail on the morning tide and you'll be pilot, driver, chief cook, and whatever else needs looking after."

"I'll try not to hit anything," replied Colin with a grin.

"Better not," warned Edmonds, a slight smile forming on his lips. "I'm up to my ass in paperwork now!"

Colin remembered that the Commander was supposed to be dining ashore. "I can stay, sir. You're supposed to be . . ."

Edmonds held up his hand. "There is a very good restaurant just on the other side of the street. Commander Stockman has made reservations and the Chief has given me a day pass. You stay ashore as long as you like." He cocked an eyebrow. "Just remember, leave expires at 0600 and please, please, Colin, don't pick up any underage girls!"

"No danger there!" thought Colin. "Well, what if I pick up an overage girl? May I use the paint locker?"

With his Commanding Officer's laughter still echoing, and his reputation intact, Colin went below to change.


As he drove across the causeway The Phantom saw a small convoy of yellow school buses idling in front of the Mess Hall and a line of cadets dressed in summer white uniforms straggling up from the Dockyard. When he halted the Rover in front of the Staff Barracks he asked Tyler what was going on.

Tyler who was dressed in a starched, British Naval Officer's safari shirt (which he had filched from The Gunner's office), straight legged white trousers and gleaming white shoes, rolled his peak cap in his hand. "The YAG crews are going ashore. There's room so Andy told us we could have the day in town."

"It's a nice day for it," replied The Phantom.

"What are you up to, then?" asked Tyler. "Chef said that he'd given you weekend leave and I didn't expect to see you back until tomorrow."

"I was, and am," replied The Phantom with a grin. "But I needed to get some gear so I came over. It's better than sitting alone as my Dad's away again."

"You going into town?"

"Yeah." He looked Tyler up and down and whistled. "Sharpest looking Master-At-Arms in the fleet." Then he snickered. "Although that shirt does look familiar."

A guilty look came over Tyler's face. "Well, I figured since you've got his cap he wouldn't mind me borrowing his shirt." Tyler flicked an imaginary bit of fluff from the front of the shirt. "Clothes make the man."

"So they say. And who all is going?"

"Just about everybody," replied Tyler. "Which reminds me. Would you please tell Val to get his ass in gear?"

"It is in gear!" came Val's voice as he exited the Staff Barracks. He was about to give Tyler a quick peck on the cheek but stopped himself. The Phantom knew that he and Tyler were together and Val saw no reason to hide the fact, but Tyler would not want anyone outside of their shipmates to know, and even though the ship was all but deserted, there were still enough prying eyes with wagging tongues sculling about. He spread his arms. "See, all ready."

Like Tyler, Val was wearing his pristine, white, undress summer uniform, although, unlike Tyler, he was wearing a plain, white, short-sleeved shirt, which he had borrowed from Kyle, who adamantly refused to give up his safari shirt. Jerking his thumb back toward the Staff Barracks, Val said, "It's Cory you have to prod with a stick!"

"Is he still in the shower?" Tyler grimaced. "I swear I don't know what to make of him! He's been mooning and mooching all over the Gunroom this morning. He's either in love or on heat!"

"If he was on heat you'd know it," observed The Phantom with an evil leer.

Shuddering at the thought of Cory on heat, Val unconsciously moved his hand down to protect his testicles. Tyler gave him a dirty look and said, "Well, please, tell him that the liberty boat leaves in ten minutes and if he's not on the bus he can stay here and mope, or pout, or whatever!"


"I am not speaking to you," Cory said haughtily as he turned of the shower. He regarded the naked Phantom, who had come into the shower. "And I just may not speak to you ever again!"

"What did I do?" asked The Phantom, dumbfounded.

"You were right, damn you!" retorted Cory as he began to towel himself.

"About what?"

"That stupid field of roses! I'm sorry I ever mentioned it to you and . . . Phantom, what in the hell are you doing here? I thought Chef sent you home to rest!"

The Phantom twisted the shower handle and looked innocent. "I went home. And I rested . . . a little."

Cory promptly turned the handle to the off position. "You woke up and smelled the roses, didn't you!" he accused.

"Yep!" The Phantom grinned and tweaked the end of Cory's soft penis. "And I'm going to smell them again!"

Cory's jaw dropped and then snapped shut. "You've been with Arnott!"

"Yep! And you were with Sean!"

"Of course I was," returned Cory impatiently. "I told you I would be. You did not tell me that you would be seeing Arnott!"

"It was a spur of the moment decision," said The Phantom casually. "Can I take my shower now?"

"No!" Cory folded his arms across his chest and regarded his friend. "You've decided to have a discreet summer romance, then?"

"Yes. In fact, I'm meeting him in about an hour. We're going into town, maybe do some shopping, have some lunch." He arched his eyebrows. "And what about you and Sean?"

"Sean and I are fine," growled Cory. "So, did you?"

"Did you?" returned The Phantom.

"I asked you first! And no we didn't!"

"You didn't?" asked The Phantom surprised. "But you were alone with Sean in his cabin!"

"Jeremy Cher has a big mouth," snapped Cory. "Yes, I was in Sean's cabin, yes we were alone and no, I kept my shorts on and so did he!" He smiled smugly. "Which is more than I can say for you!"

"Cory, what's your problem? You're the one who told me to wake up and smell the roses. I smelled!"

"My problem is that I want you to make damn sure that you know what you're doing." Cory's voice softened and he slowly ran his hand up and down The Phantom's arm. "I just want to be sure that you're not doing something you'll regret. I should have minded my own business!"

Before The Phantom could stop him Cory took him in his arms. The heads of their soft penises touched and once again The Phantom felt the electricity that always coursed through him whenever he and Cory were together. "I love you, you goof," he whispered in Cory's ear.

"And I love you," replied Cory. "I wanted you to, you know . . ."

The Phantom sighed and held Cory close. "It's over between The Gunner and me," he said quietly.

Cory almost fainted. He pulled back. "What? When?"

The Phantom turned and sat on the bench that flanked one wall of the washplace. "Chef told me last night. The Gunner is not coming back. He's off slaying dragons, or fighting Saracens, or whatever."

Cory sat beside The Phantom and put his arm around his friend's shoulders. "I'm sorry. You should have said something."

"Chef told me last night," replied The Phantom. "By the time he told me you'd already gone down the Dockyard."

"You should have sent Jeremy Cher down to get me. I should have been with you!"

"You were where you should have been, with Sean." The Phantom looked lovingly at Cory. "I'm all right, Cory. I've accepted that what was between The Gunner and me is over. Last night I had Colin to be with and he helped me over the rough spots."

"Are you in love with him?" asked Cory, his tone direct.

"Maybe. I like him, a lot. You were right about Colin, by the way."

"He's in love with you."

"Yes. Very much, and I don't know where to go with it."


The Phantom and Colin walked down the main street of Comox, window-shopping, laughing and being together. Colin was wearing his summer white uniform, the green shoulder boards he wore on his white, short-sleeved shirt bearing the two gold stripes indicating his rank as a Lieutenant. Summer whites for naval officers were a reluctant, newly authorized uniform dress, although the government clung stubbornly to CF green when it came to shoulder boards and headgear. Still, Colin looked very smart and drew some interested glances from several of the other strollers.

"I told you that you were hot," said The Phantom as they paused to admire some soapstone Aboriginal carvings in a shop window. He pretended to be bend down to tie his shoelace and glanced admiringly at Colin's butt. "Nicest butt I've seen all day."

Colin frowned. "It had better be the only butt you see all day!" he said, growling low.

"I can look," replied The Phantom, straightening. "Are you wearing boxers?"

"Why would you ask?" Colin looked around at his behind and shook his head. "The trousers are lined and that makes it look like I'm wearing boxers." He reached out and tipped The Phantom's cap forward over his eyes. "And just so you know, I am wearing tighty-whiteys."

Laughing as he squared off his cap, The Phantom replied, "Good, because you look dead brilliant in tighty-whiteys!"

"You're insatiable, you know?" said Colin as they resumed their stroll.

"And you love it," returned The Phantom. He pointed with his chin toward the far end of the street. "Let's head for the market."

They walked on and as they passed Mr. Schoenmann's shop The Phantom stopped to look at some of the books in the bargain bins out front. "Let's go in," he said to Colin. "The Gunner, I mean Steve, found some super figurines that he donated at the prize giving after the Passing Out Parade."

Mr. Schoenmann, who was busy unwrapping a new consignment, stopped what he was doing and greeted The Phantom and Colin. He was apologetic. He had no more of the little sailors in stock. A gentleman from the Sea Cadet base had purchased them all. The Phantom thanked Mr. Schoenmann and was about to turn to leave when his eyes fell on the contents of one of the boxes the old man was unpacking.

"Look, Colin," he exclaimed. "Officers' shoulder boards." He reached in and pulled out two old pattern Lieutenant's, dark navy blue, shoulder boards, rich with fine gold braid and Eliot's eye.

"From Admiral Bench's estate," advised Mr. Schoenmann.

The Phantom thought a moment. "Isn't he the old fellow who retired here and lived up by the Marine Parade?"

"The very same," replied Mr. Schoenmann. He looked at Colin and smiled. "He was a little man, who looked like the actor, Ed Wynn. He passed on last year and his grandchildren have only now cleaned out his house. Apparently they have sold the property to the owners of that new hotel."

The Phantom, who wanted to give Colin something, a small remembrance, a keepsake of their time together, immediately handed the shoulder boards to Colin. "Hold these."

"What are you doing?" Colin asked as The Phantom quickly removed his CF boards. "Phantom, I can't wear those!"

"Of course you can," returned The Phantom has he fitted the boards through the loops of Colin's shirt. "You're a naval officer and you should look like one!"

"And actually, you've put them on the wrong way 'round," said Mr. Schoenmann. He quickly switched boards and smiled. "Such a handsome young man. You look like one of Admiral Spee's boys. Such handsome boys they were."

Colin, who remembered something about an Admiral Spee in one of his naval history classes, reached up and began to remove the right shoulder board. "Phantom, I can't let you spend your money on me. These are much too expensive and . . ."

"What expensive?" asked Mr. Schoenmann holding up his hand. "Is $15.00 going to break the bank?"

"Each?" asked Colin.

"What? No, of course not," returned Mr. Schoenmann, insulted. "Am I such a putz I take advantage of a sailor." He tapped his chest. "I was a sailor before I got old! Imperial German Navy. I was at the Battle of Coronal!"

"Wow" The Phantom looked at the old man in a new light. "What else do you have?"

Mr. Schoenmann dove into the box and brought out another set of shoulder boards, one stripe, a Sub-Lieutenant's insignia, still contained in a protective wrapper. "Now, I shouldn't tell you this, but you boys seem to be nice boys so I let you in on a secret." He pointed at the braid. "Notice anything different?"

The Phantom looked at the cheap gimcrack braid on Colin's CF boards and then at the rich gold braid that Mr. Schoenmann was holding. "Well, it's French Braid, gold, and I'm sure when new very expensive." He looked again at Colin's boards, and then back to the older boards. "And the braid is wider."

"Just so!" exclaimed Mr. Schoenmann. He leaned forward. "I let you in on a little secret. These - there is an entire set, all the way up to Admiral of the Fleet - were worn only by members of the Royal Family and their Naval aides."

"Really," replied The Phantom. He brushed Colin's boards and positively glowed.

Mr. Schoenmann, who was too old to worry about two sailors so obviously in love with each other, smiled. "Really. The Old King, George V, he was a very stubborn and traditional sailor. He hated change of any kind and when the Admiralty decided to narrow the gold braid he went meshuga! To keep him happy the Admiralty said it was fine if the Royal Family and Royal Navy Aides-de-Camp kept the old braid." He turned and pointed to a long rosewood case. "Admiral Bench was a Naval aide to the Old King, and he won the Admiral's Sword when he was a Naval Cadet in Britannia Naval College."

Opening the box, Mr. Schoenmann showed The Phantom and Colin one of the most magnificent examples of a naval officer's sword either had ever seen. The hilt, the pommel, everything was of the finest workmanship. The scabbard was of the finest black Moroccan leather. Colin immediately fell in love with it.

"An Edward VII sword, a special order from Asprey's. It is one of only ten swords presented by King Edward, as he only reigned for nine years. He died in 1910, you know."

"It is beautiful," agreed Colin. "And I am sure commands a beautiful price." "A reserved price of $350.00 I'm afraid," relied Mr. Schoenmann. "The family was quite insistent."

"I hope they find a collector." Colin said. He was smiling but his eyes betrayed his disappointment. He would never own such a beautiful artefact, not at $36.00 per day and the peppercorn Sea Duty Allowance he was paid. "Even if I could afford it, we don't have swords anymore," he said, pretending to lose interest in the sword, and thinking that $350.00 would go a long way toward his tuition.

The Phantom saw the disappointment in Colin's eyes but only said, "Dumb rule then."

Colin reached into the box. "Now these, they're interesting." He held up a long, square piece of cardboard on which were affixed miniature gold metal naval rank badges. "Look Phantom, the Petty Officers and Chiefs used wear these with their old khaki uniforms." He immediately plucked two Chiefs badges from the cardboard and pinned them to the points of the collar of The Phantom's open-neck, short sleeved white shirt. "There. Now we're both out of uniform."

The Phantom pointed to the cloth badge sewn onto the sleeve of his shirt. "And I'm double dipping!"

Before Colin could answer Mr. Schoenmann handed him an Exacto knife. "So make him a single dipper!" he said with a chuckle.

After Colin had expertly removed the cloth badge he returned the knife to Mr. Schoenmann and then went over to the tall wall cabinet to admire the ships' silver it contained. The Phantom pointed at the shoulder boards in the box and nodded. He then looked conspiratorially around, making sure that Colin was out of earshot, leaned forward and, pretending to have one last look through the box, whispered, "It's a beautiful sword, but I don't have that much money on me."

Mr. Schoenmann knew who The Phantom was. He also knew The Phantom's father. "So you pay me later."

"Can you arrange to have it delivered?" whispered The Phantom.

"To the Sea Cadet . . ."

"No, Colin, I mean Lieutenant Arnott is in the real Navy. That's his ship berthed at the Government Jetty."

"Consider it done," replied Mr. Schoenmann. "When?"

"As late as you can. I want it to be a surprise."

Nodding, Mr. Schoenmann closed the box containing the sword. "I'll send my youngest grandson around eight tonight. He's too busy schlepping around hoping some girl will notice his keckela!"

"I'm sorry, I don't know what that is." "Every boy has one," replied Mr. Schoenmann sadly. "Trust me young man, when the time comes, have daughters! All you have to buy is a shotgun!"

The Phantom realized that the old shopkeeper was making a little joke and laughed appreciatively. "I really owe you one, Mr. Schoenmann. Keep the shoulder boards, all of them for me, and I'll have the money for you tomorrow."

"Don't worry, young Phantom Lascelles." He looked at Colin who was examining a silver tray. "That young man is very fortunate. I hope he knows how fortunate he is."

The Phantom blushed. "No, I'm only now coming to realize just how fortunate I am."


After lunch at Winston's where they sat on the outdoor terrace and watched the tourists, The Phantom and Colin walked around the market. They bought nothing and decided to spend an hour or so at one of the small outdoor cafés that dotted the Esplanade before returning to The Phantom's house. They had barely set foot on the wide lawns that bordered the sea wall when they heard a shout. They looked over and saw them.

They were all there, the Boys of Aurora, Tyler, Val, Cory, Todd, Fred, Nicholas, who was sitting next to Matt, Brian, and Two Strokes who was sitting as close as he dared to Thumper. Chris sat beside Jon, who was sitting next Joey and Randy, who were being watched over by Phil Thornton. Mike Sunderland and Phillip, called the Assistant, anchored one end of the table while Harry sat at the other, teasing Calvin Hobbes, who had come to visit and was wearing Joey's extra uniform and Randy's spare cap. Halfway down the table, surrounded by bags containing their loot, shorts, T-shirts and swimming trunks bought at bargain prices as the shops cleared out summer stock in preparation for the cooler fall and winter months approaching, Stuart and Steve sat, hoping that no one would notice that they were playing kneesies. Sandro was rolling his eyes as Kevin modelled his yarmulke, and Ray giggled. The table was laden with large containers of Coke and paper plates overflowing with greasy fries and the half-eaten remnants of even greasier hamburgers.

As The Phantom and Colin approached the table from the south, Mark, Tony and Nathan, each laden with bags and the odd box, approached from the north. All three Americans were in uniform, Mark and Tony as Senior Chiefs wearing long, straight-legged white trousers and a white, short-sleeved shirt. Nathan, who was Petty Officer Third, wore bell-bottoms, a white T-shirt and his Dixie cup hat.

As the others moved chairs and borrowed tables to make room for the new arrivals The Phantom introduced Colin and if any of the other cadets noticed the sparkle in his emerald eyes as he spoke Colin's name they were much to much the young gentlemen to comment.

They laughed, drank Coke after Coke, nibbled at the fries and teased Randy, Joey and Calvin unmercifully, particularly the two red-heads, demanding to know first, if they had pubies, and if they did, were they red too? Tyler, rather proud of his own red pubes, well, actually copper-coloured pubes, pubes that Val loved to ruffle with his fingers, affected an air of embarrassment and coughed loudly, trying to discreetly remind his fellow pirates that there was an officer sitting with them and their pubes were hardly a topic of polite conversation. Then he thought that it could be worse. They could be discussing their dick sizes, or the Pride of the Fleet!

The cadets ignored the Master-At-Arms and when Randy spotted Andy and Kyle walking on the other side of the street he immediately hooted for them to join the table. After another round of introductions Colin excused himself from the table, heading for the public loo. Cory immediately announced that he too, had to pee.

Randy and Joey, who knew exactly what Cory was up to, giggled. Todd groaned quietly, Tyler mentally promised to kill Cory, and The Phantom grinned widely. Andy and Kyle looked confused, but dared not ask what was going on for fear of the answer.

The Phantom sat back, not saying a word. Colin could take care of himself and Cory might just be taught a lesson.


The public lavatory, like all public lavatories the world over, smelled abominably of stale urine and the noxious fumes that the large, white hockey pucks of deodorant that clogged the drains of every urinal seemed to emit. The browny-orangey tiled floor was crusted with bits and pieces of things that Colin did not even want to contemplate and the waste receptacle was overflowing with wadded paper towels.

Colin actually did have to use the bathroom but he waited until he caught a flash of white out the corner of his eye. He turned his head and saw Cory enter. Cory, in the manner of all males in a public toilet, nodded coldly, and then approached a urinal, pretending that he was alone. He unzipped, reached in and then stood there, penis in hand, his legs spread slightly, pretending to stare at the tiled wall above the urinal and pretending that whatever Colin was doing was of no interest to him.

Knowing that sooner or later Cory's eyes would slide, dart or glance in his direction, Colin, praying that no one else would come wandering in, proceeded to put on a show. With seemingly great deliberation he loosed the brass buckle of his belt, spread it wide, and then after unbuttoning his trousers, unzipped and with tantalizing slowness, pulled down the front of his tighty-whiteys, anchoring the wide band under his testicles. He boasted a soft, three-and-a-half or so inches of plump perfection and if Cory felt it necessary to see that perfection, then he would see everything, including his medium sized testicles and dark blond pubic bush. He sighed loudly, just to make sure that Cory was paying attention, and let fly, guiding the stream of urine to the centre of the receptacle where it would make the most noise.

Cory, who had absolutely no interest in watching Colin take a pee, glanced quickly away and when the sound of Colin peeing ended he glanced quickly back.

After another, satisfying sigh, Colin reached into his back pocket and pulled out his handkerchief. His eyes darted a quick look at Cory, who was still at his post, penis in hand, standing wide eyed and slack jawed, staring at Colin.

Colin carefully took the folded square of linen and dabbed carefully at the end of his glans, almost killing himself with barely contained laughter as he dabbed the last, errant drops of urine from the head of his penis. From the corner of his eye Colin could see that Cory, enthralled and intrigued with the show he was putting on, had turned slightly, his eyes fixed on Colin's penis and testicles.

Once again, with deliberate care, Colin unhitched the elastic band of his underpants from beneath his testicles, covered his genitals, zipped up, buckled up and walked to the sink, washed his hands, found the last clean paper towel in the container and turned.

Cory, so intrigued, had followed Colin's every move, so much so that he did not realize that he was standing in a public lavatory, facing away from the urinal, with his penis on full display.

Still pretending not to notice the staring Cory, Colin wadded and tossed the wet paper towel onto the pile on the overflowing wastebasket and then made to walk out. As he passed Cory he stopped, looked down, tweaked the arrowhead-shaped pale pink head of Cory's penis, smiled, and said, "I do hope you enjoyed the show, Tiger!"


Colin emerged from the loo barely stifling his laughter. Still biting his lip he sat down at the table beside The Phantom, nodded, and whispered in his ear. The Phantom hooted and, shaking with laughter whispered in Todd's ear, who pounded the table in glee and whispered in Tyler's ear, who beamed.

Cory, red-faced and all but spitting nails, emerged from the facility and sat at the table opposite to The Phantom, glaring at his friend and vowing vengeance, which only made The Phantom laugh more loudly.

"You put him up to it, you . . . you . . ." sputtered Cory.

"Perhaps you'll think twice the next time," Todd said, laughing so hard he actually did pee himself.

Of course all of the other cadets demanded to know what Cory had done now, and when they heard of what had happened in the loo the ripple of laughter became a crescendo of hilarity, all at Cory's expense.

Cory's discomfiture was expressed in grouching and bitching, which made the cadets laugh even louder. Cory tried, but even he could not sustain a prolonged pout, for the more he thought about it, the more he came to realize that he'd been made a right prat of, and actually saw the humour in what had happened. He looked at Colin said, "With respect, but you sure are a pisher, sir."

"You'd know," replied Colin, dean-pan.

Cory burst out laughing and Colin knew that he had been accepted. The other boys pummelled Colin's back and shook his hand. Mark and Tony gave him a salute and Val offered him a drink of grappa if and when he came to visit them in the Gunroom.

As night approached, and the sun began its descent beyond the mountains to the west, Colin sat back, listening to the cadets as they chattered, chucked shit, and generally behaved outrageously. While he realized that his celebrity had been short-lived, he knew that it would be the stuff that legends were made of. He also knew, as he sat watching and listening, that he was witness to something very special.

The catalyst, the core, was a slim, handsome, green-eyed boy with slightly jugged ears and a winning smile. He watched as the boys called over to The Phantom laughing with him, saw the looks of love, of respect in their eyes, saw the true bonding that occurred only with males, the even truer bonding that occurred only with sailors. Phantom was their mate, their mentor, their guide, to some of them a sometime lover, but to all of them a true and loyal friend.

Colin's heart expanded with pride and love. He now understood why Chef had called The Phantom a treasure, a treasure that he could hold, but never keep. Phantom was a part of a very special Band of Brothers and in a way Colin felt humbly honoured at being allowed to share, if only peripherally, in that Brotherhood.

As he listened and watched, Colin saw The Phantom look at his friends, his eyes sparkling, his smile beaming. Colin saw the eyes and faces of the cadets as they in turn, in the awkward manner of boys, returned The Phantom's love and then he thought of the what William Butler Yeats had written so many years before: "Think where man's glory most begins and ends and say - my glory was that I had such friends."

Next: Chapter 19


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