Usual Disclaimer: If you are not of an age to read this because of the laws of your country or district please desist. If you are a bigot or prod-nosed fundamentalist of any persuasion find your monkey-spanking literature elsewhere and keep your predilections and opinions to yourself. Everyone else welcome and comments more than welcome. Those so far have been very helpful in that they have given me the encouragement to persevere!
This is a very long tale. It unfolds over a good number of years. What is true, is true: what is not is otherwise. If you have trouble with the English educational system, or English usage, let me know.
ALADDIN'S AWAKENING
By
Joel
Chapter 34
Part two:.........
Wednesday 30th August 1944
I was awoken by a hefty slap to my bare bum by a grinning Lachlan already up and dressed.
"Up, landlubber," he said, "Get that spunk-covered body of yours into that bathroom, pronto, only time for a pee. Tides running. Two minutes, chop, chop!"
I dragged on running shorts, no pants and my jockstrap was not visible anywhere, pulled a shirt over my head, wriggled into plimsolls and passed water as fast as possible and followed an impatient young whirlwind down the stairs and out across the lawn to the boathouse where Andrew was already standing by the boat. Both Lachlan and I stopped and roared with laughter. My jockstrap was much too big for Andrew, who stood there in an imposing manner smiling broadly, but with the elastic attached to the pouch hanging below the hem of his short shorts and the pouch hanging free too.
"That's suppose to support you, you fool," chortled Lachlan.
"I'm wearing it and that's that. I've put a couple of safety pins in the waistband so it won't come down but I didn't have time to deal with the rest." He was just as impatient to start my ordeal as Lachlan. "Now you know exactly what to do, don't you? You've watched us and we've told you what to do. And if we all fall in you wait until we rescue you!"
I think, to their amazement, I did pretty well. The boat was not capsized. We tacked gracefully up and reached Ipswich in good time. I had watched the sails and gauged the wind just right all the way. For once there was no backchat. I was complimented by them both as we came to a standstill within the dock area. We had the usual waves and greetings, "Where you bin, bor, we ain't sin yer?", another laughed, "Slow boat to China!" Under their gaze and Andrew's instruction I turned the boat and headed back downstream. Lachlan had said on the journey up that we weren't going to look at Wolsey's Gate today with that child's knickers round his knees. That was the only time I nearly lost concentration as 'that child' made as if to stand up in the bow and rocked the boat alarmingly. He knew what he was doing and sat down promptly mouthing "Sorry, Jacko".
On arrival back at the mooring both said how well I'd done. Andrew then said, "Beginner's luck", and then laughed. Lachlan said, very seriously, it wasn't beginner's luck I had done exactly what I should do at every move and he remembered how a certain person had landed up wedged on the other bank when he was allowed a solo run by Billy Catchpole.
"I was only seven!" wailed Andrew in mock despair, "And he called me a cocky little bugger. And when I asked him what he meant he wouldn't tell me!"
"And dad clouted me when he came home on leave and you asked him what it meant and he said I wasn't to teach you such words. I haven't forgiven you for that. I didn't let on Billy said it and I told you what it meant and you weren't to say that word!" said Lachlan, grabbing at Andrew and rubbing his hands across both his ears. "You're much too forward for your age, Mummy says, so watch what you say!"
When this altercation finished we went up to the house for breakfast. In the kitchen was young Georgie Catchpole chatting to Nanny Saunders. He had a large round of toast and jam in his hand.
Lachlan went straight up to him and said if he wanted he could come down this afternoon and he would take him out in the boat. The lad looked so pleased and said he would be there at two o'clock prompt.
The rest of the morning was spent cycling off into the countryside again where other fields were being cut but we didn't stop as we didn't know the farmers. I found a village post office and posted a card to Ma and Pa saying I was OK.
After lunch Andrew and I sat on the bank while a very proud twelve-year-old Georgie took the rudder while Lachlan manipulated the sails. Andrew said his mum said Suffolk people took a long while to accept you but when they did you had good friends. Young Georgie hadn't said much to us before the boat-trip but afterwards he sat with us for quite a while chatting in his wonderful soft Suffolk burr. He said we should come to the farm sometime and see his father's new goats which his grandad thought were a waste. He said he liked them and one was quite a pet for him. He waved goodbye as he said he had to get back as he was milking the goats later.
I was then raced along to the pool and three naked youngsters were soon splashing around. I was making progress too at swimming and Andrew did not muck around and the pair of them were able teachers. Andrew asked if I minded acting if I was drowning and he would rescue me. I didn't have to do much acting and the young eel deftly clung to me and dragged my hefty weight most proficiently. They then practised on each other until Lachlan was satisfied with his brother's progress. This left me space and time to practice my own gradually improving swimming.
That evening after we went up to bed I got out the photo of Piers and Miles and found it fitted perfectly into the frame. The boys wanted to see what I had done, so, saying nothing, I passed the frame to Lachlan with Andrew peering round him.
Andrew looked at it intently. "I didn't know you rowed," he said. Then Lachlan looked from me to the photo. "You haven't got an older brother have you?"
I shook my head. I couldn't say anything. Both Andrew and Lachlan had seen the likeness immediately. Andrew piped up, "Is it an uncle? 'Cause that's an old photo, isn't it?"
I said it wasn't an uncle, it was a distant cousin with his friend and I would tell them the whole story next day. I put the photo on the dressing table and went to wash. When I came back Lachlan was holding the photo and looking at it fixedly.
"It's something special, isn't it?" he said.
I nodded but said nothing more. Anyway, as usual, Andrew provided a diversion. He had just taken off his shirt and wasn't looking at us. Lachlan looked over at him, nodded at me and smiled. I went over and before he could evade me I lifted him bodily and held him against my chest. Lachlan came over, unbuttoned his shorts and lowered them. My modified jockstrap was revealed. Not only were there the original safety pins reducing the waist band but, in the interval before supper, Andrew must have used more pins to draw the elastic bits up and had cobbled the pouch together too. It must have been a bit uncomfortable.
"I thought he'd got worms at supper," said Lachlan through his laughter, "He kept wriggling on his seat."
"I didn't wear it when we got back from sailing till tonight." Andrew said. "Let me down," he demanded, trying to kick out, "Else I'll scream and Nanny will come to see what you are doing to me."
Lachlan pulled the jockstrap down and caught hold of Andrew's little nut-sac. "Try screaming now and see what'll happen!"
Andrew stopped wriggling against me and I dropped him gratefully but, before Lachlan adjusted his grip to the falling object, Andrew squealed as his balls got jerked and he clutched at Lachlan's hands. "You've hurt me!" He punched out and hit Lachlan square in the goolies. It was Lachlan's turn to squeal. He dropped to the floor clutching himself. I knelt by him while a now distraught Andrew put his arms round his neck. "Sorry, Lachs, I didn't mean to hit you there." It took a minute or two before Lachs recovered. I helped him to his feet and led him so he could sit on the side of the bed. A little playful fun had gone wrong. Andrew sat by his feet and put an arm round his legs. "I'm sorry,.." he kept murmuring. Lachs recovered and put his hand on Andrew's bowed head.
"I'm OK, Andrew, I hope no damage done. Sorry I grabbed you like that."
Andrew stood up and grasped at Lachlan's hand. "I'm sorry too." The old Andrew was back. "But it's all his fault. He shouldn't have made me wear that thing!" He looked at me and grinned. "See, all your fault."
I said he was an ungrateful little beast and I didn't think I wanted him as a cousin and if he wasn't nice to me I might whack him where it hurt as well. I was then pummelled and told to mind what I said as Fleas bite.
Of course, I said, when we finally got into bed, the pair of them might be permanently damaged so I'd better check on them both. I made them lie down side by side and said my real cousins had been checked this way and if I was going to have two new real cousins I had to check they were still OK.
I knelt with their thighs together and their legs parted just as with Alun and Rhys. I caught hold of a young, virile prick in each hand and wanked them slowly at the same time keeping my two hands exactly in step. They looked up at me steadily, their mouths slightly open, their chests rising and falling together until Andrew grimaced and I felt his boy-juice pulsing up his shaft. He produced much more tonight and it was also quite creamy as well. I stopped wanking him and concentrated on Lachlan whose eyes were now closed. His breath was coming now in fits and starts.
Andrew was staring at my moving hand and smiled as the slit opened and Lachlan's load shot out up onto his chest and landed with a trail of creamy spots. "He's OK," he said, "Needs more than a light tap to turn off his supply, eh?"
Lachlan struggled to get his breath back. "Does he never stop?" He shook his head resignedly again.
"Get moving," Andrew said to his brother, drawing his leg from between mine and shoving his brother in the bed. "We've got to see if this so-called cousin is still capable, too. He needs to be checked daily in case he is a Pharaoh and he might turn into a mummy, and mummies are ladies so they don't have cocks..." He realised what he'd said and the implications. He looked at Lachlan. "I didn't mean that but we know ladies don't... And Mummy..."
"There are mummies and Mummies," I said hurriedly, "and I wouldn't be the female kind if I was a Pharaoh, would I?"
"The sooner we mummify this one the better, I say," grunted Lachlan moving over, making space for me to lie down between them, " I suggest, Jacko, we start tomorrow, there's a book in Mum's room from the British Museum and it's got pictures in it."
"I'll tell Nanny Saunders," said a slightly worried Andrew.
"Hunh, she'll give us a couple of old sheets for bandages."
"If you do it, I won't hear Jacko's story."
"That's OK," I said tousling his cropped hair, "I'll tell you while we're bandaging you up. And I'm an expert at bandaging 'cause I'm in the St John's Ambulance."
Two against one - he wasn't used to this. Of course, both Lachlan and I gave the game away by giggling.
"You aren't any Pharaoh either," said Andrew, "And that cat only sat on you because you smell like one, I expect!"
"That's enough, Andrew!" said Lachlan with a finality in his voice which both Andrew and I recognised was quiet authority.
A hand came across and sought mine. "Sorry Jacko. Friends?"
I gripped his hand. "I shall send a special message to Rajah to squash you next time!"
He giggled and rolled onto his side towards me. "What did your cousins say when you checked them?"
"Nothing, it's what they did."
"Like this?" asked Lachlan, rolling onto his side and down the bed seeking my cock with his open mouth.
A battle ensued with my prick as the prize. Both boys lapped and licked and jockeyed for position to take my rod into their mouths. Both won in the end as Lachlan had both my balls in his wide open mouth while Andrew was merrily licking and sucking at my unsheathed head until my balls began to rise. With this, Lachlan slid up and together they licked and lapped with Andrew's tongue just under my ridge. Their soon-to-be real cousin proved himself. I flooded my belly and chest and the pair of them licked at my warm come and presented me with their tongues to the tip of mine.
We went to sleep like that, the pair of them against my sides, me on my back, until sometime in the night I must have turned on my side.
It looked a bit squally in the morning so it was decided to clean the keel of the boat like the Sea Scouts had been doing to theirs. After that was done we sat by the boat and I told them the whole story of Ulvescott. I had brought the photo in its frame down to the boathouse wrapped in a pullover. As the story unrolled I felt just like the old salt in the painting, sitting by his fishing boat, telling the two youngsters tales of his youthful adventures. I didn't pull any punches anywhere in the story, how the boys were trying to do things to me when Bran howled, finally how Tom had tried to fuck me, calling me Piers and my connection of the two names through Tom's own name. Whether it was coincidence or not, I said I didn't know. They had gasped and looked at each other when I got to the bit about Piers and Miles having been at their school and giggled when I told them about the code in the diaries. I then explained what Uncle Edward had found out about my relationship to Piers and when I reached that final thing about the birthmarks they looked quite stunned.
"Is that all true, Jacko?" Lachlan asked when I had finished.
I nodded. "I've told you most... the important bits.... There's more that's happened there and I'll tell you about Hans and Herr Vogel and all the other things another time."
"If they were at our school," Andrew said, "they would be on the Honours Board with all the others."
Lachlan nodded in agreement. "There's lots of names. All those who were killed in that war. We'll look when we go back."
After lunch we walked down to the farm and found the small field in which the goats were kept. They were over the other side munching at stuff in metal containers. Nosey Andrew wanted to see them closer so he went over the gate and strolled towards them and was stroking the back of one small white one when old Farmer Catchpole came along the track and joined us. We greeted him and said young Georgie had told us about the goats. He nodded sagely and sucked on his pipe.
"Tha's my daft son he goos and buys those old things and then tha' poor kid he has to look arter 'em. Daft booger that son!"
Andrew turned and saw we were talking to Mr Catchpole. He waved and started walking back. Then he suddenly turned, looked behind him and took off like greased lightning, sped across the field and nimbly climbed over the gate. A very angry-looking billy goat stopped dead snorting and pawing the ground.
Mr Catchpole sucked on his pipe again. "Do you tek my advice, bor, do you never turn your arse on anything with balls!" With this laconic statement he waved his pipe at Andrew, said "Good-day" and ambled off up the track.
Andrew, for once, was speechless. Lachlan and I were looking at each other, spluttering with laughter. The billy goat seeing no further adversary haughtily stalked off back to the group of still chewing goats.
Lachlan poked Andrew in the back. "Do you unnerstan' thet, bor, an' his are bigger than yours so yuh can't miss a-seeing 'em, eh, bor? An' tha's a fact!" he said in a perfect Suffolk accent.
Andrew's pride was hurt. Nothing more. He turned and also stalked off, down the track, muttering imprecations of what he would do to young Georgie for not telling him there were wild beasts in the field. It didn't last long. Ten yards. Then he turned his face creased up, he laughed, loud and long.
Of course, that was the theme for the rest of day. When I stood up after swimming a bit with Andrew behind me he swatted my backside, "Do you watch out, bor, tha's balls behind you".
I turned and grabbed him, we both submerged, me a bit more fearless now. I caught hold of his nuts and, with total compliance on his part, we surfaced and stood face to chest. "There were bigger balls than these on your Aunt's fancy cakes and at least they were silver and edible!" I said.
I had made the mistake of not protecting my own. A small hand cupped my cold, wrinkled sack. "And what do think these are? - Ow!." He let go suddenly as Lachlan silently surfaced behind him. Andrew's goolies had been claimed again.
"Do ya' watch it, bor, them's yer cousin's in front an' yer brotha's behind ya!"
After we'd horsed around a bit we got out, rubbed ourselves down with the old towels we'd brought with us and then sunned ourselves on the grass. The boys were full of questions about Ulvescott and I told them then about meeting Hans and how he and the other POW, Herr Vogel, were very nice and how we talked to each other in either German or French. This stunned them. Their brainy cousin again, especially when I told them I'd done the translations for ex-Sergeant Higgs's trial. But they were a bit apprehensive about me consorting with the enemy in such a way. Weren't they dangerous? Their ideas of Germans were of people bombing us and killing soldiers. I said I didn't think all Germans were like that and Hans certainly wasn't. I don't think they were convinced until I told them about Matt's worries and what Hans had said and then how Tom and I had witnessed him beating his meat in the barn. I said he was just like us and left it at that.
In bed that night there were more questions. The brothers must have had a little conflab at some time when I wasn't present. We had settled down with me in the middle again, they on their sides facing me.
"Do boys fuck each other, really?" asked Lachlan hesitantly, "Like you said Tom tried and those boys did with Andrew?"
"They said they'd fuck me properly," said a more confident Andrew, "And I've heard boys say that someone's got a nice arse and they wouldn't mind a bit. And Potty says Grantham's had more dicks up him than he's had hot dinners...."
"...True!" chimed in Lachlan, "Jeffreys told me he saw Grantham go off into the copse with that big lad in the Sixth, Colthorpe, I think, and he said they weren't going off to pick bluebells."
"You never told me that!"
"You're much too young and innocent to learn of such things!" said Lachlan, chuckling.
Andrew was not to be denied knowledge. "He never tells me things like that. I don't know if the others are telling the truth. You'd tell me, wouldn't you?" He put a hand on my arm and then put his face closer to mine. "If Tom tried that time, did he do it really?"
To absolute silence I said I had fucked Tom and also other friends and I'd been fucked as well. I said, very quietly, you could only do it properly if you were good friends and they and you wanted it.
"Is it as nice as been sucked like we do?" Andrew's quiet voice asked.
The boys had learned that just over the past few days. Tom, Mike, Matt and I had longer histories. I couldn't lead them further. I was still on the outskirts of their relationships. I had been accepted wholeheartedly, but... I didn't want to harm our growing relationship. Andrew had already had one nasty experience. Whatever happened he mustn't have another.
I said that on each occasion it hadn't happened deliberately although there was a plea to take things further. I said you had to trust the other person as damage could be done. I said you could hurt someone not only physically. I hadn't got that word in my vocabulary but the boys understood and they knew what I meant about hurting people other ways.
Andrew squeezed my arm. "I was really scared with those boys, but I'm alright now I've told you both about it and Lachs has promised not to kill them... I wouldn't want to do it to anyone I didn't think was willing. I'm not sure I want it done to me."
I said no one should do anything they didn't want to and I felt Lachlan nodding in agreement beside me.
Three silent, contemplative boys felt for each others rampant shafts and slowly and quietly each was dispossessed of their daily output by one, then two questing hands, until three streams pooled on the central boy's stomach.
A quiet voice whispered by the side of the central boy, "Could it be more perfect than that?"
Friday 1st September 1944
We were up early again to sail up river to Ipswich where we would disembark and they would show me some of the sights. Andrew, this time, managed the sails, while Lachlan steered with the rudder. I had to watch carefully as I would be in charge of the rudder on the way back.
We found a bit of jetty with steps and the boat was fastened securely. A couple of the men on the dock said they would keep an eye on the boat for us. It wasn't far as we soon found the church where, near it, was the only remains of the college which Wolsey had planned for Ipswich. A rather broken-down old arch was all that was left. Lachlan said his dad had told him all about Wolsey and King Henry and how Henry's divorce changed the whole country for ever. His father had said he had wondered if the last King's divorce would have an effect. Andrew said he didn't know how Henry managed having six wives. I pointed out he didn't have them all at the same time. I got a thump for that. Lachlan said his father had studied history at Cambridge and wanted to write a book about the old Suffolk which he had explored when on leave from the army. He sounded quite wistful and I thought to myself that he must miss not having a father around. Then he said he hadn't known his father very well at all because he was away in London so much and then he and Andrew were away at school as well.
We didn't roam about much as Andrew complained he was hungry and wanted his breakfast so we soon set off back down river and I didn't cause any mishaps.
At lunch-time Nanny Saunders said that Uncle Edward was coming the next day and staying until Sunday evening and we would be having the pheasants for Sunday lunch and young Georgie had brought another brace. After mooching about a bit Andrew said he would go to the farm as Nanny wanted some vegetables so I went with Lachs to the pool and he coached me in doing the crawl and I did gain in confidence. He said not having that imp along all the time also helped. I said I didn't mind the imp and Lachs just raised his eyes to heaven!
We towelled and stuck our shorts on and strolled up to the house intending to raid Nanny's store of goodwill and food. A small figure darted across the lawn into the shrubbery in the distance some way off from us. A second small figure appeared moments later in hot pursuit. Lachlan looked at me and raised his eyes heavenwards again.
We could hear thudding footsteps as the first runner burst through the shrubbery just in front of us. He stopped, panting. It was Georgie.
"Thass that Andrew," he said, laughing and panting at the same time, "He said that there old goat's dangerous and I said old Billy's tame as a kitten and I could see him run like that if old Jerry came at him with one of they old bayonets!"
Andrew burst through the shrubbery then. "Oh, there he is, come here!"
He made a grab for Georgie but Lachlan caught hold of him and restrained him. I stood behind Georgie and put my arms round his shoulders protectively. "Cheek, as if I would run away from the enemy," chuntered Andrew, "I said I'd show him what the British army would do and he said I ran away from that goat faster than those Ities would!"
Georgie wasn't at all perturbed, "Come on down together and I'll show you thass old goat."
Lachlan and I were grinning at the defeated Andrew.
"That's right, Andrew," said Lachlan, "Let's go and see how the British army would deal with an attack by massed ranks of goats, or even one!"
Lachlan, with a slightly bemused Andrew, marched off towards the lane to the farm. I followed with Georgie.
"Do you want to larn ta milk?" asked Georgie, "I'll a show ya. T'aint too easy to start but I like it. Grandad gives me a shilling a day for the milk. Old booger sells it then. My dad'd put it in the old pub if he had the money and Grandad says he can't hev it."
We reached the field and the gate. Georgie calmly opened it and whistled. The small herd of goats looked up. He whistled again and the billy goat left the group and came trotting up.
Georgie turned to us, all safely behind the closed gate. "Do you come in here, Andrew, he ain't a going to hurt ya." He stroked the goat's head. "Do you come on in, Andrew, I ain't awaiting all day for you."
A rather reluctant Andrew opened the gate slightly and sidled in. He slowly went up to Georgie and stood with Georgie between him and the goat. The goat turned his head and looked at him.
"Do you give him a stroke and you tek his halter and do you lead him and tie him to that rail."
Andrew looked at Georgie. Georgie was serious. Andrew had been instructed to lead the wild, dangerous beast.... He held out a tentative hand which Georgie took and placed on the goat's head. He stroked it while Georgie leaned down to retrieve the short halter hanging from his neck. He handed the end of that to Andrew. He took two steps forward and the goat obediently walked at his side and they continued across the field.
Andrew carefully picked up the rope hanging from the rail. "Do you make a proper reef knot, bor, and not one o' they old clove hitches," called out Georgie. Andrew had won and Lachlan had been reminded of one of his failures. Georgie turned.
"I told ya thass was easy. You two come along o' me together now and we'll larn ya to milk."
I will say the goats were lovely creatures, they were friendly and the billy-goat seemed contented when I held out a small bunch of hay for him to chew. Learning to milk was hilarious, but Georgie was an excellent instructor. I managed after my poor goat had been tugged at for five minutes or so to suddenly produce a thin, more or less continuous stream of milk which hissed into the tin canister. We were not expert like Georgie and Lachlan was less successful than Andrew or me. In the end, Georgie said he would finish the milking himself and Lachlan said if he came round in the morning we would row across to the other bank and he could come with us on a ramble. We all stroked the billy-goat's head before leaving.
As we turned to go, Georgie looked up at Andrew from his position kneeling by the goat he was expertly milking.. "Thass old goat a-chased you, bor, 'cos he thought you'd a come along to tup his gals."
I am afraid poor Andrew was teased all afternoon and evening after that. 'Tup his girls' became our catch-phrase. Because Lachlan and I were laughing and giggling so much at supper-time Mrs Cameron wanted to know what all the hilarity was. Lachlan explained that seeing Andrew lead the goat across the pasture was very funny and then Georgie had taught us how to milk and that was funny, too. 'Tup his girls' was not mentioned.
Andrew sat stony-faced. "I think I was very brave. That was a wild animal and they hid behind the gate until I was across the field. And then he couldn't aim straight into the bucket and only got about three squirts anyway. At least Jacko managed to half fill his."
"You were very brave," I said, "I don't mind admitting that animal looked vicious. But that Georgie's a real character, isn't he?"
A mollified Andrew looked at me and smiled. The first time he'd smiled for the past two or three hours. "I like Georgie," he said, "he's just like his brother.
And he could control wild beasts too!" He looked meaningfully at his own brother.
"I suppose you mean me," his brother said patiently. "Was it when I lost my temper when I broke the mast, or fell in, or split that sail?"
"Give it up, you two," his mother intervened, "And, behave yourselves while Edward's here. He's up for promotion so he might be a bit edgy."
"My dad's already a lieutenant-colonel," I said. The boys' heads swivelled. "And I got pips as well, but only honorary. I'll show you when we go upstairs."
No, I was sent upstairs there and then. They also told me to bring the photo as well. I fished the two pips out of my school blazer pocket where I always kept them.
Although I'd told them about Mike and the firing-range trip I hadn't said about Pa and Dr O'Brien getting military ranks. They were mightily impressed. Brainy cousin-to-be has brainy dad who is also a colonel!
I then had to re-tell the story of my relationship to the Crossleys showing Aunt Della and Nanny Saunders the photo. Aunt Della said that Edward had told her some of the story and it was quite fascinating and would make a good plot for a book. Nanny Saunders said I was certainly like the boy in the photo.
Ribbing poor Andrew continued when we went up to bed. I asked him if he wanted to tup a nice young goat or could we practice milking on him. Between us we held him down and putting a finger and thumb either side of his prick squeezed and pulled just as Georgie had taught us to hold the goat's teats. As we both so-called 'practised' on him he squealed and tried to resist our efforts. We didn't do it too much each time so he was getting more and more worked up as we 'practised', stopped, changed milkers and 'practised' again.
"It's more difficult getting milk out of this goat," I said, "We need a lot more practise."
We slowed down the rate and increased the intervals and I thought of the tied-up Tom begging for release. Andrew by now had got to the "Please, please," stage and Lachlan was highly delighted that he had some assistance in giving his brother some comeback. After nearly half an hour Lachlan looked at me and nodded, it was his turn to 'practise' and this time he kept on. Lachlan's efforts at milking were well-rewarded. A stream of now more- creamy spunk gushed out of Andrew's slit as he jerked and bounced on the bed when it happened. "Shilling for that lot," I said, "Not quite a bucket-full, though!"
As he calmed down Andrew looked down at the creamy mess on his stomach and belly. His smile showed his realisation he was developing. "Gosh, Lachs," he said, "Mine's getting just like yours!"
He insisted that his goats had to be milked by a real expert so to giggles and satisfied "Aaaah"'s from both of us our 'milk' soon appeared under his expert fingers.
We lay huddled together after that, alert for any sounds from the dreadful world outside, but safe in our own camaraderie. No sounds came and we slept.
Young Georgie was waiting patiently down at the boat house when we got down there after breakfast. Lachlan did his expert rowing and all four landed safely on the other bank. Nanny Saunders had supplied us with loads of sandwiches and bottles of pop which Lachlan and I had to carry. Georgie and Andrew set off together and we could hear them laughing and chatting as we sauntered along behind them.
Lachlan was in a contemplative mood. We chatted a bit but, as we strolled along looking over hedges and peering into the gardens of the cottages we passed, he really had little to say. In the end we sat on the top of a five-barred gate while the two others were exploring a rather murky stream which flowed under the road nearby. There was silence again, then Lachlan turned to me.
"Jacko," he said quietly, "You know that other thing boys can do...." He looked at me. I nodded. I knew what he meant. "Is it good? I mean, did you like it....?" This was difficult. How could I express my feelings? Each time I supposed there had been an element of exploration but finally I knew that I would only ever want to do it to, or have it done by, someone I trusted deeply, and dare I think it, perhaps loved in some way. I thought of Matt and Mike. Two friends I trusted and felt very close to. Tom and my cousin Alun - accepting, big-hearted, would be others to trust, for ever.... In the silence between us we heard Georgie upbraiding Andrew "Thass not an ould newt, ya gret lummox!". I spoke slowly and carefully.
"I think you'd know if you wanted someone in that way." I nodded. "It's been great but it is much more than some of the other things."
"I just wondered," he said, "I suppose I'm curious about it. Andrew's a bit young to have heard all the things I've heard." He looked at me. I wondered what he thought. Perhaps mulling over - here is a boy, barely two months older than his younger brother, knowing and doing all sorts of things he had only ever heard about - he was nearly seventeen, and.... He spoke softly. "Do you think we could?" He looked across at where Georgie and Andrew were now scooping up piles of mud to make a dam. "I don't want Andrew to know..., yet...., but I trust you." He smiled . "And we are to be cousins and we are friends, aren't we?"
I said it would be difficult keeping things from Andrew. Where would we go? When? Andrew would sense something was going on. He smiled and nodded. Some sort of pact had been made.
Georgie and Andrew were now tired of mucking about in the stream. Georgie was definitely in charge. "Do you get that there ould mud off of you, Andrew, do your moither'll give you what for!"
The lads came up to us. Andrew, arms mud-caked, stood in front of us and eyed us suspiciously.
"And what have you two old codgers been planning?" He stood, arms akimbo. Two streaks of mud also adorned his face and his hair looked as if he been pulled through a hedge backwards. I was reminded of the illustration of Just William on the cover of one of the volumes I had.
"For God's sake boy, clean yourself up and leave us in peace," said Lachlan, in mock exasperation and the sort of tones one heard from irate schoolmasters.
Georgie stood beside Andrew, taller than him by inches even at the age of twelve, and looked him up and down. "Thass a daft booger you hev for a brother, Lachlan, he knas nought about nawthing. Him, he wants to get up early in't morning to get some sun in his brain!"
The 'daft booger' turned on his adversary who skittered off, laughing, over the field with Andrew in hot pursuit. The two old codgers grinned at each other. Andrew had met his match.
The pair chased around, Georgie evading Andrew at every move, until they ended up panting in front of us. Georgie turned to Andrew. "Do they together look like a pair o' they old crows up there? You'd a think their old arses're nailed to thet there gate when us are needing some good vittles. We'm parched and hungry, eh, Andrew?"
Lachlan pointed Andrew to the stream where he attempted to clean off some of the mud. We unpacked the food in the haversacks and sat and ate and chatted. Georgie was a revelation. He had won a scholarship much younger than most and was at a prestigious Ipswich school. "Some o' they daft boogers there think I'm a bit simple 'cos I'm proper Suffolk. They call me Suffolk swede or turnip-top and want ta know if I have mangel- wurzels for breakfast. I hev 'em though, cos I got the Form prize just now! And last year!" He looked at Andrew. "He ain't slow, neither, I'll sey that. He'll larn!" High praise! Georgie was obviously the apple of his granddad's eye and this was reciprocated in the way the lad spoke of the old man. Lachlan asked if he'd heard from his brother and the lad's eyes lit up. "Thass old Billy, he do well! He drives a tank. Grandad says if he drives that like that old tractor the Jerries'll be a-dying laughing and forget to shoot!"
After finishing the last of the food we continued our walk and, at the end of a straggling village, an elderly lady asked us if we would like to have some gooseberries. The big reddish yellow fruit were delicious and Georgie warned Andrew who was stuffing himself and complaining about the prickles on the bushes, "Do you eat too many of they goosegogs, bor, do you get the runs!". We thanked the lady who was laughing at Georgie's warning and walked on. We had circled round, which I hadn't realised, and ended up at the end of the track which led across the mud flat to where we had left the boat. On arrival, all safe and sound, on our side of the river, Georgie turned to Lachlan. "Fur a furriner you'm got good Suffolk ways and so'um your brother and that gret dark cousin of yourn.
I thank ye, kindly!" He turned and walked off towards the lane to the farm and his precious goats. There was a twelve-year-old with an ancient head on his shoulders! Aunt Della said that when we recounted our adventure later. As she explained, although she had been born here and so had Lachlan and Andrew, their roots were not yet considered as deep as the natives of the area, they were still 'foreigners'. But, Georgie had made that first step of acceptance.
Of course, when we arrived back Uncle Edward was there, as usual, deckchair, papers and the inevitable glass of something stimulating. We approached quietly, bare-chested, our shirts tied round our waists. He looked up and gasped in mock horror.
"Call out the Sepoys, it's Mowgli and the Bandar-log! Ha, ha! 'Brother, thy tail hangs down behind'!" he declaimed, pointing at Andrew who had one sleeve of his shirt trailing behind him. "And where have you been my weary, mud-spattered son-to-be?" He didn't wait for an answer. His gaze was then directed at Lachlan and me. "The respectable ones! Congratulations to your uncle and your soon-to-be-father. Lieutenant-Colonel Edward Charles Thomson, at your service, sirs."
We all rushed over to him. He laughed as we congratulated him. Andrew said it was worth five-bob for each of us as he must be being paid millions now. He was called a mercenary little toad and whacked on his backside though he clung to Edward's arm trying to shake his hand. Uncle Edward said he was taking their mother into Ipswich that evening to celebrate but there were special rations for us which Nanny Saunders had in the kitchen for later.
The congratulations were interrupted by Andrew getting up from where he was kneeling by the deckchair and rushing indoors. Ten minutes later he came back. No, he hadn't been to see what the supper rations were. "Gooseberries" was his only answer to our question of where had he been. Of course, when his mother then appeared, wrinkling her nose, we tittle-tattled to her that he had gorged himself on the lady's fruit and was suffering as a consequence. He was ordered inside to be dosed with Dr Collis Browne's Compound by Nanny Saunders and we had a quiet half-hour without him while we told Uncle Edward and Aunt Della about Georgie and our adventure. The pair of us then wandered down to the boat-house and sat on the little jetty.
"I want you to do it to me," Lachlan said slowly and deliberately as we sat there, sucking on the ends of pieces of grass we had picked on the way, "I trust you...., and I know we like each other...." He stopped, he was nervous about saying more. He didn't need to, there was genuine affection between us. I had felt that with both brothers that first night. There was nothing to add. I nodded and the pact was sealed more securely.
The extra rations was a sumptuous pork pie which Uncle had wheedled from the Mess Steward saying it was one less pound of fat on the Commandant's belly. Aunt Della shook her head in mock disapproval. She looked very smart as they got into the old cab and Nanny Saunders said she was going to stroll up to the farm to see old Mrs Catchpole and Andrew was told to mind his tongue when he said there must be some new gossip around. Lachlan and I were told to keep an eye on him and she would be back soon.
It was early evening still - warm and bright. As we heard the door close behind Nanny Saunders Andrew looked at us.
"If you two want to go off to the boat-house I don't mind. But it's my turn tomorrow night. I'll be better then. You'd better take one of those old blankets in the chest on the landing in case you get splinters." He smiled his quirky smile.
Lachlan looked at him and shook his head.
"There's not much you don't know, is there?"
Andrew smiled back and nodded. "I love the pair of you, but you'd better get going before Nanny Saunders gets back."
I went upstairs and found a blanket, Andrew smiled and waved as I passed the drawing-room door on the way out. I joined a rather nervous Lachlan on the path near the boat-house. We didn't say anything to each other as I spread the blanket on the wooden landing by the side of the boat. Lachlan closed the doors and the boat-house was lit by the sunlight through the roof window. Silently we took off our shirts and shorts and plimsolls and lay side by side on the blanket. He moved his head towards me, his mouth open. I met his lips and we pressed our tongues gently then more forcefully into each others mouths. We had our arms round each other and both were massaging each other's backs and feeling those humps and ridges and those prominent muscles both of us had developed in our buttocks. His hand came up to my neck and he held my head tightly against his open mouth. I forced a hand between us and felt our erect lengths, side by side, pulsing with our increasing heart- beats. I put my hand further down and cupped both ball sacs and weighed those precious possessions carefully as he clasped and unclasped his hand rhythmically on my buttock. He was very worked up very quickly.
"Please do it to me first...., teach me," he whispered as he moved his head away and started to nibble my ear. "There's something in my shorts pocket. I think we'll need it."
He rolled slightly away. "Bradley said if I wanted to do it to him I had to use this. But we haven't. He wanted me to, but I was a bit scared."
'This' was a small jar of Vaseline. I knew all about that. I whispered back that it was perfect. I got him to roll onto his back and raise his legs a bit and then leaned over him and we tongue-fucked again. I had dipped my first two fingers into the jar so I slowly felt down between his legs and circled his tightly closed hole with a dry finger. He winced slightly at the contact then relaxed. I then gently put some of the jelly onto his hole and massaged around it. As he relaxed more I carefully pressed the tip of my second finger against the wrinkled bud. My greasy finger prised open the closed ring and stayed there. I used my first finger to massage more jelly round and pressed a little more. Almost imperceptibly my second finger went further in and I felt his muscular ring pulse round it. He was so relaxed I pushed more and the finger went deeper into the warm cavity. While it was in I pressed my first finger against it and his slit opened more. He groaned as this second finger entered him. I stopped and we continued to tongue-fuck and he was still exploring my back and neck and buttocks. As I had found before, that slow approach and the slow almost unnoticeable widening using two fingers made the next step so much easier to accomplish.
I worked my fingers back and forth for several minutes. He was becoming very worked up. The claspings and probings on my back were becoming more insistent and almost violent. It was raising my own temperature too so I knew I must act soon. I rolled on top of him and almost instinctively he crossed his legs round my back. I looked down at his face and he smiled. Gently, I shifted my body so my shaft rested against my probing fingers. Gradually, I guided it until the tip touched the slightly opened hole. I pushed and took my fingers out at the same time keeping my eyes fixed on his. If he showed the slightest pain or discomfort I knew I would not continue however much I needed to for my own benefit. I felt the tightness of his muscle. The tightness eased and the thick head of my prick entered him. I lay very still. There had been the slightest quiver on his face, not fear, just a look of 'what was that?'. I judged I could continue so pressed slightly again. Another quarter of an inch or so of me moved into him. We were still intently staring at each other. He nodded very slightly, I pushed more and I was slowly enveloped. With great care I withdrew a bit and pushed again. He looked at me transfixed as I began to press and withdraw in gradually more and more wider sweeps, back and forth. He closed his eyes and his smile changed to a peaceful set of his lips. I leaned down and touched his forehead with my lips as his hips began to move up and down to meet my thrusts and aid my withdrawals.
"More," he whispered, "More.., more...,"
My prick was then about three quarters of its length in him. I gave a slightly greater push and sank right in. He had his arms round me and held me so tight I could only make small movements. But these were enough, I felt his warm seed spurt out against me just before my own was given up to him as deeply as I could. After a minute or so of him clinging to me like this we rolled onto our sides and I slowly withdrew my still hard prick from him. That was the time he gasped. The intruder had been accepted, willingly, unreservedly. It had been withdrawn after giving of its whole self. It wasn't a gasp of pain, but of loss.
He nuzzled my face. "Oh, Jacko!" he murmured.
We lay just caressing each other's backs. No longer the frenzy but the quietness of intimacy. This process went on for uncountable time until I knew he was ready to find pleasure in me. Slowly and deliberately I found the jar. I put his fingers into its contents. He copied my previous actions, tenderly anointing me, then seeking my compliance to his probing finger. I knew I wanted him, his finger entered me easily. The exploration was slow, deliberate, intentional. One finger, two fingers, probing, questing. I was ready very quickly and moved him between my legs and lay on my back. My knees were raised with my feet on the ground. His slim, lithe young body fitted between my legs perfectly and I was an easy target for that long, steel-hard rod of his. I was so ready he had no difficulty in pressing the whole of that mushroom headed monster fully into me with a few thrusts of his muscular buttocks. His needs were urgent. I doubt if he made forty desperately intense thrusts before he came a second time that evening. His whole body seemed aflame as he jerked and forced his spunk deep, then deeper, into me. He collapsed on top of me groaning and clutching at my shoulders. I put my arms round him to show he was safe. He lathered my face with kisses, ardent, fiery, hot-blooded, passionate. He was lost in sensations which I had experienced myself before, but this was his first time. Hot tears dropped on my face. I hugged him closer and I could feel his hips still jerking uncontrollably against me forcing the remains of that gift of himself into me.
His all-consuming raging ardour died down. I kissed his eyes, his cheeks, his ears, his lips. We nuzzled and nipped, caressed and stroked, gradually reducing the heat and fervour of those two all-consuming displays of unrestrained passion. His hard prick softened and fell away from me and he moved so we could lie side by side again.
"You...?" he whispered as he realised I hadn't come a second time and my prick was still hard. "For you...," he murmured as he ringed my cock and slowly wanked me until I spurted, filling his hand with my boy-cream. "Oh, Jacko...," he whispered, as we lay so still willing time to stop.
Slowly, gradually, we recovered some semblance of sense. He still held me tightly having rid himself of my load onto the edges of the blanket.
"Oh, Jacko," he said, with such feeling, "Please don't think I'm silly but I never knew I could feel so safe and secure with someone since I heard that dad had been killed. I want to tell you things I haven't been able to tell anyone else. I know mum loves me and Andrew loves me and I'm sure Edward and Nanny do, but I'm not at home, I'm with friends at school, and there's always this feeling, who am I? I worry and wonder if things are alright. I'm nearly seventeen, I should be nearly grown-up but I've never had anyone to talk to like this." He looked into my eyes. "You understand, I know you do. You couldn't share such things as we've done tonight if you didn't care and know.... That wasn't just an experiment, was it? You wanted the best for me and I did for you."
There were so many ideas and thoughts here I was a little bewildered. I was only fourteen, no, almost fifteen, and Lachlan was so much older and although I knew I was thinking much more deeply about things and having unfamiliar thoughts at times, Lachlan hadn't been able to resolve his doubts and worries which I had a feeling were mounting up for me as well. I realised our lives were different. I was at home with a loving mother and father. He had never really known a continuous home-life. School was home to him, other boys, a constant discipline of watching every move you made in case.... In case what? I dimly perceived his quandary. What could I say? I was an inexperienced boy but I knew I could think.
"Lachlan," I said meditatively, stroking the back of his head, "You can only be who you are. No one can take that away from you. I've only known you a week but it seems as if I've known you all my life. I mean, you have shown me how good, kind, thoughtful, considerate you are. Everyone knows that. Even that imp, as you call him, knows that. I was quite frightened at the thought of meeting you. I knew the first time I saw your smile I was safe and secure, too. Perhaps all those worries are inside us to make us think. I know I have to think. I know my friends have to think. Tom and Matt have confided in me. We all have worries and we have to think to help solve them and perhaps be brave enough to confide in someone else."
I was getting to the limits of how I might express myself but Lachlan knew and I knew we had both crossed a kind of hurdle tonight.
"I think you could talk to Uncle Edward. He may seem jokey but he's wise as well, my cousins think so and I think so too. You're going to be lucky to have him for a dad. He wouldn't treat you and Andrew as he does if he didn't love you."
Lachlan put a hand between my shoulders and stroked me, I knew, tenderly. "Thanks, Jacko. Thanks for everything."
We lay quietly for a few more minutes but knew then that time had passed. We folded the blanket and stowed it in the roof cavity and discovered a horde of soft boat cushions and other paraphernalia up there. We pulled on our shorts, shirts and plimsolls and strolled side by side back to the house. All was quiet. We both had a quick wash in the downstairs lav and then Lachlan slipped up the stairs and came back to report that the Imp of Satan was fast asleep and looked like a holy cherub now. We raided the kitchen and were eating a hunk of pork pie each in the drawing-room and trying to play Snap at the same time when Nanny came back looking as if she'd gained the secrets of the universe.
Lachlan looked up, a mischievous grin on his face. "And what did Auntie Flo have to tell you? Lots of shaking of old heads and tut-tutting, I expect! Georgie told me that Peggy Finch is expecting..... Is it true?"
Nanny Saunders looked at him, she was used to him. "Young people like you shouldn't discuss such things and when I see young Georgie he'll feel the flat of my hand for spreading such gossip. His Grandma didn't know about it until yesterday so how did he know? Anyway, poor girl, she isn't any better than she should be and it's all that sailor's fault..."
"Who's spreading gossip now? Who's the sailor?"
"Don't ask such questions - just because I go and see my cousin doesn't mean we spend all night discussing things like that."
"Most of the night, then?" queried Lachlan, moving sharply out of the way of an advancing Nanny Saunders.
Before she got to him she stopped. "And where is that Andrew? Up to no good somewhere I'll be bound. Where is he? He's not messing about in your mother's room putting things in their bed...." She stopped. A truth had been revealed.
Lachlan looked at me and winked. "No, Nanny, the poor little thing is asleep in his bed, dead to the world. You must have dosed him up well with that stuff for his runs 'cause it's knocked him out completely."
"So you've had a quiet evening without him, eh? And what have you been doing? Why do you keep grinning at each other? You haven't been putting things in my bed, have you? I haven't forgiven you and that imp for that toad!"
"Gosh, Nanny that was when I was ten, that's seven years ago. I thought only elephants...."
He dived for cover, his arms protectively round his head as she put two strong hands round his neck.. "Lachlan Cameron, you may be nearly seventeen, but you know who's in charge and Nanny's never forget. I remember...."
"Please don't, Nanny, you'll tell him about...." came a muffled plea.
"....I could tell him everything from the moment you were born to this very day. How...." She looked at me and smiled, "I could tell you about his father...." She took her hands away. There was a faraway look in her eye. "It would have been his father's birthday tomorrow. Edward has taken his mother out to celebrate that as well as her birthday on Tuesday and his promotion. We didn't celebrate that awful September the third, that day this war started, as he'd been called to duty in London....," She shook her head.
"....and we couldn't celebrate his next birthday with him because he had gone. But his memory is with us. Never forget that, Lachlan! ....And I shall go on remembering you, too, and that brother of yours!"
I could see that Lachlan's family had been her whole life. Lachlan's father had been born in Scotland but I'd learned that his parents had moved to another house nearby when his father came to England for work shortly afterwards. Nanny Saunders as a young girl come into the household as a nursemaid and had stayed. He had married Della, the daughter of close neighbours, and they had inherited this house when her parents died. Nanny Saunders stayed on. Over forty years! She was entitled to her memories!
She went out of the room saying we would need something more to eat and drink before bedtime. She produced some cheese and pickles - cheese specially made at the farm as a little, keeping in practice, activity for her cousin. She said cheese before bedtime made you dream but ours would be happy ones she was sure.
She said she was having an early night and went upstairs. We sat together and ate the tasty food, took the plates and cups into the kitchen and went to the bedroom. The cherub was still asleep. We undressed and washed quietly so as not to disturb him.
We lay facing each other just looking into each other's eyes. "Thank you," he whispered and I repeated it, "Thank you". We slept. I did stir much later. The noise of a motor. I thought it was another attack. No, it was the ancient cab returning the celebrants. Lachlan roused slightly, grunted and was asleep again.
To Be continued:...................