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.
[This section was sent in later than I intended: I have just got back from London having queued for five and a half hours to see the Queen Mother's Lying-in-State in Westminster Hall. Most impressive. The catafalque with four Beefeaters, pikes reversed, one at each corner. Her personal standard draped over the coffin with the crown, glittering in the bright lights, and a single wreath of white lilies from the Queen. One thing the British can do - is a ceremonial!!]
Flip's Tale
By
Joel
The Sequel: Autumn 2000
Continued:....
S18: Tom's News
The next morning we had sad news. Tom's father came across just before eight o'clock and said he's just heard that Tom's grandfather had died suddenly the night before. He was going to try to arrange the funeral for the next Tuesday as he and Tom's mother were moving out on the Wednesday.
Tom's grandfather had lived in Ullapool, about 125 miles further up the West coast. Tom's father had been born there and his mother and father had had a general store which they ran until his mother died and his father had sold up and bought a very nice house nearby. Tom said his granddad was a real Highlander, very strict and Presbyterian and that was why his only son, and only child, had left home as soon as possible to join the Army. He had gone back to marry Tom's mum who came from the village just up the road from there.
Later in the day Tom's dad came back to say all had been arranged. We both said we would go to the funeral. Tom's dad then said he'd been on to his father's solicitor who had told him he held the Will and young Tom, as the only grandchild, was the sole beneficiary. Not only did he inherit the house but there was some land and a sizeable amount in the bank. Tom's grandfather had been a very canny Scotsman! Tom was both happy and sad. He hadn't really known his grandfather, only visiting him about once a year, if that, but he was happy that he was now financially secure.
S19: Archie's Balls
We spent that day and Friday morning painting the bungalow. Then we had to drive to Fort William to pick up young Archie. The train was on time and we could see him anxiously looking out of the window as the train drew in. We helped him down off the train and Tom carried his bag to the car. He limped a bit. He said he was still a bit sore and the injection he'd had been rather painful too.
We took him back to the bungalow and fed him up on Tom's mother's scones and a pot of tea. At long last he couldn't contain himself.
"D'ya want to see what they did?" he asked looking from one of us to the other.
We couldn't contain ourselves and Tom said if we had a look he wasn't to say anything as we would probably have to look again when Aunt Margaret, or Dr Menzies as he said, would need to see him.
We went to our bedroom and without further ado Archie dropped his jeans, pulled up his shirt and displayed his balls, snugly held by a sort of net-like jockstrap. He pulled down on one side, then the other until his thick young cock dangled neatly against his pendulous sac. The Prof had been kind. The left ball was bigger than the right and hung a good half inch lower. The left side of his ball sac was still a bit bruised looking but other than a neat stitch or two he looked just as he had before the operation.
"Christ, Archie!" I said, quite amazed. "If I didn't know that left one was a fake I'd say you had the makings of mighty fine spunk factory that side."
"Och, aye," said Archie, very proudly, "And the other one works gae fine. I didnae touch myself last night but it squirted when I was asleep. I was all sticky when I woke and Wilf said I'd had one of they wet dreams."
"Haven't you had one before?" asked Tom.
Archie shook his head.
"Never?" I asked.
"No, I didnae know you could have them until Wilf told me this morning.
He said boys sometimes have them before they know about doing it. But I've been doing it regular since I was ten to get the feelings and I made ma stuff come when I was eleven and as I do it regular Wilf says I probably wouldn't have had one."
A new Archie! No embarrassment about telling us about it, nor having discussed it with Wilf, and confirming what Stuart had told us what Archie had told him. Lucky little bugger - having all that pleasure every night from so young. Gosh, he'd been doing it longer than I had! I'd only heard about the pleasures of dry-cums from others at school when they discussed the pleasures of prep school days.
I could see Tom was rather impressed with Archie's prowess as well.
"You'd better not do it your usual way until you've had those stitches out on Tuesday," Tom suggested. "It'll give you time to build up a head of steam as well."
Archie grinned. "I dinna want tae cause myself any more trouble but there was a wee spot of blood in it this morning but I can't wait to try! Och, roll on Tuesday!"
I told him to pull his jeans up before he got too excited. I'd noticed his mighty worm had begun to turn a little during the display. I expect young Stuart would be privy to a demonstration when all was healed and the stitches were out.
Soon after the school bus had decanted him Stuart came rushing in. I was in the kitchen getting veggies ready for the evening meal.
"Where's Archie?" Was his demand.
"Oh," I said nonchalantly, dropping the spud I had just peeled into the bowl, "He had to have his other one removed and his cock shortened. We've suggested we take you next week so you can donate one of yours and he can have a transplant."
A look of puzzlement passed over Stuart's face, then he heard laughter from the living-room.
"You wait!" he said and rushed off.
I followed, wiping my wet hands on a tea towel. There was Stuart hugging Archie with Tom, holding the cards he had been playing two-handed whist with Archie with, and both laughing having heard what I had said.
"Archie, how are you?" Stuart managed to gasp out from the clasp each was giving the other.
Tom stepped up to them and parted them.
"OK, Stuart," he said, "Archie's alright but he's got to rest. Sit down and he'll tell you the truth, not like our evil brother."
So the tale was told and while Stuart was avidly listening I made him some fresh tea and took it in. He looked up at me.
"I'll get you for that," he said, "You scared me stiff."
"What about? You being a ball donor?"
"No, you fool, you saying he wasn't here and had to lose both!"
Archie laughed. "Och, Stuart, Wilf said this morning if you hadn't found ma lump I wouldna be here soon. And if I had tae hae a transplant I would be proud tae hae one of yours! So, I wouldnae be here if it wasn't fae you and your brother and Tom. You should be glad to have them as your brothers."
What did Archie mean by that? He'd picked that up quickly from what Tom had said!
S20: Pete
The weekend went quickly. Stuart and Archie were together most of the time. Tom and I finished painting the outside woodwork of the bungalow and Aunt Margaret bustled around cooking superb meals. Wayne called in to say he couldn't start until Tuesday which suited us fine as Tom and I would be going to Ullapool for the funeral and Tom's dad suggested we stayed at the house there to start clearing things up.
But first we had our invitation to lunch at the Douglas's on Monday.
We dressed, as usual, in kilt and sporran and looked very smart as we set off. Pete was waiting for us, similarly attired, as we arrived and immediately took us through to his mother who apologised that her husband was away in Perth on business.
Of course we had to tell him of the impending new-bugs, the Prof's twins. Tom made a point of giving him the low-down on how to distinguish between them. Out of his mother's hearing we also informed him we both thought that a careful eye should be kept on any sexual activity because we thought a) they would be prime targets for certain of the older lads and b) we wouldn't be surprised if they were willing subjects or even perpetrators. Pete grinned and he said he knew exactly what we meant and he would keep an eye on them.
We said we knew Wayne and that Tom had been at school with him. After lunch Pete took us up to his room and showed us his latest drawings, mainly of the countryside. After a bit of prodding he shyly produced the sketch he had done of me, full frontal and very life-like. Tom was most impressed and had the gall to say he thought the perspective exaggerated certain aspects. Pete just laughed and said he disagreed having noted things from all angles.
Pete also said he had decided not to go to Art College but, on the prompting of people he and his father had consulted, he was applying for entry to the Fine Arts degree course at St Andrews University.
Tom raised his eyebrows. "Is that because 'you know who' is going there?"
"It's alright, Tom," Pete said with a grin, "I shan't make a bid for him, I'll leave that to all those American girls who are applying!"
S21: Ullapool
Next day Tom and I drove up the coast separately from his parents as we would need my car to get back. The funeral was very well attended at the church in Ullapool and Tom's dad, resplendent in his new Inspector's uniform, was congratulated by lots of his father's old friends.
When we got back to the house there was a letter for Tom from the solicitor, or Writer to the Signet, as he styled himself. This informed him that not only did he inherit the house plus the money but his grandfather had also bought the small house Tom's mother was born in and this was let out until the next June. Also, the solicitor wrote that if Tom was minded to sell the main house and land there were two people almost vying to buy it already and thus Tom would get a good price.
He discussed this with his father who suggested he sold the house and land and kept the smaller one and we and the family could use it for holidays. Tom arranged that he would see the solicitor the next day and put things in motion. Tom's parents went off to get ready for their move the next day and left us at the house.
They had hardly left before we were upstairs in the main bedroom, stripped off and in bed. We had a very intense love-making session, ending up in our favourite sixty-nine position, drawing each other slowly onward and upward until we could climax almost together. That final exchange of spunk, with tongues in each other's mouths, was always the most passionate ending for any of our encounters. We fell asleep in each other's arms and woke when it was dark.
"We'll be able to come to the cottage along the road whenever we want a holiday or a break," said Tom. "We're going to share it. It's ours, not just mine."
We kissed and caressed each other and I felt even closer to him. I was happy that Tom now had no worries about financing his years at University. His grandfather had died but we felt that he would have approved of the use for the money as Tom said about the Scots love for education.
We found food in the freezer and went to bed again very early and spent several hours in complete harmony. I think we both came three times more that night but number of times and time passing were incidental to being together.
The solicitor the next day was kindness itself. He said he would do all the transfer and deal with all the legal side and if he could handle the sale of the property he would be happy to keep his fees as low as possible. He handed Tom a cheque for five thousand pounds, 'on account' as he put it, until the estate was settled. He also said he'd opened a bank account in Tom's name and he should deposit the cheque as soon as possible. Tom's face was a picture. He was more than solvent. All Tom had to do was to sign a number of documents and that was that.
We spent quite a bit of the rest of the day sorting through his grandfather's effects. He had been meticulous in keeping things in order and had made notes of where things were. He must have known he didn't have long to live. Tom said he would keep most of his books which ranged over many topics from astronomy to sailing to history to geology. He had been a self-taught man.
We stayed until the Saturday morning and I think we had some of the happiest days together as we were alone, able to do what we wanted, when we wanted. We explored the countryside, the harbour and the town. We found nice restaurants or pubs and ate and then, when we returned to the house, we had the most ardent sex sessions that either of us had ever experienced. There was such an intensity in our love for each other, in the way in which we felt each other's bodies, the way in which we sensed each other's feelings, the way in which we tried to match each other's climaxes or to give the other the most exquisite means of reaching their apex. Three days when we got to know and love each other better and deeper. Sharing thoughts and feelings, hopes and desires, goals and ambitions. We both felt this time was going to be crucially important to whatever happened to us in the future.
On our arrival back in Glenfinnan there was high excitement. Aunt Margaret's senior partner had announced his retirement and so she would be in charge of the practice from December. She said she would try to reduce her own load to have more time to pursue other interests but, having watched and listened to her, we knew she would work just as hard as she loved her job. She did have sadnesses, especially when her older patients were ill or died, but she had an enthusiasm which both Tom and I picked up on and hoped we could emulate in the future.
There were also a lot of messages for us, either on Aunt Margaret's answer phone or cards and letters. She did point she wasn't our social secretary but had had a long chat with Ghazi who had phoned from London. She was very fond of Ghazi and said she hoped we'd be seeing him again soon. She also said Clyde had phoned from France as well but had said things could wait a bit.
Stuart said Archie was OK but still tired and he'd had the stitches out. Of course, he'd been allowed an inspection and he said that Aunt Margaret had also seen Archie at the proper surgery and had said the Prof had done a neat job. He grinned when I asked him outright if Archie had broken his resolve not to have a wank. He's OK he said. I wondered if Stuart had helped Archie to find out what he could still produce.
S22: Wayne's Worried
Wayne had made a wonderful job of the shelves and cupboards. Unfortunately, Stuart had left the printout in its folder on his desk when he went to school on Thursday and nosey Wayne must have read it because he was dying to ask Stuart questions but was rather embarrassed. At least, that was what Stuart surmised by his odd openings to sentences which then changed and the fact that the folder had been moved and a couple of pages were misplaced. Perhaps, Tom said, we should confront him with this when he came to do the final varnishing!
Wayne came early Monday to finish off his work. It was fairly evident he had things on his mind and matters came to a head when I went into the kitchen with Wayne for elevenses. Tom followed us in just as I was pouring out three mugs of coffee. He was carrying the blue folder containing Stuart's printout.
Tom sat down opposite Wayne and plonked the folder on the kitchen table. "Aye, Wayne, and what did you learn when you read what was in Stuart's folder? Eh? Did you learn how to have a decent wank?"
Poor Wayne. He went bright red and gobbled like a turkey-cock, muttering something but Tom went on relentlessly, opening the folder and riffling through the first few pages.
"Which do you like best, doing straightforward fist, or backhand, or three-finger? I expect you've tried them all, haven't you? And how do you measure up against the average score a week for lads our age, eh?"
Wayne blustered. "I dinnae dae it ivery day and I dinna ken what you mean...."
"Come off it, Wayne," Tom said, "We know you read the printout and that says what boys of eighteen do and you've just said it. So, tell us the truth!"
Wayne looked from Tom to me, his mouth half open.
Tom continued. "Tell us, Wayne, come on, who do you think about when you pull on that midget love-muscle of yours. Is it Mary Collins, or Fiona Maclellan, or do you think of your pal Gavin's big fat cock? And what did you mean when you said you'd never had any complaints. Come on, confess!"
Wayne was now darting glances between Tom and me. The experience of the mock court-martial had taught me the wisdom of keeping an impassive face.
"Och, Tam, dinnae ask me sae many questions," he said in a low voice, "I hae to dae it all the time, I cannae stop! I dinna think......" He stopped. One could almost see the brain a-churning. If Tom knows all about the printout, he must know....
Tom was one step ahead, as usual.
"Look, Wayne, Flip and I are going to be medical students so we have to know all about what boys do. That print-out gives plenty of information and advice so I'm going to ask you questions and it's all in confidence as we won't tell anyone. Anyway, I already know quite a bit about you, don't I? You wanked off most of the boys in our class, including me and we did the same to you, eh? And you shoot a good amount of come, too. All the boys know that. You used to be proud of that."
Wayne shot a worried glance at me.
"It's no problem, Wayne, Flip and I have no secrets from each other, eh Flip?"
Poor Wayne. I thought Tom was being a mite cruel. I just shook my head.
"So, Wayne," Tom continued, "How much time did you take reading all this? No doubt you did it in the time you charged Dr Menzies for working here. And I bet you had a wank as well. Still, we'll allow that, never takes you long, does it? Stroke, stroke, squirt, isn't it, Wayne? Fastest gun in the West of Scotland! We'll say that was part of your tea- break so you won't have to confess to overcharging for that!"
"I couldna help it. That was on the desk and when I moved it, it opened....."
"And you were curious, eh?"
I thought Tom would have made a good policeman. He could certainly interrogate.
Wayne looked from Tom to me. Perhaps I was the good cop!
"Can I ask you something?" Wayne said very quietly.
We both nodded.
"Do I do it too much?" This even quieter.
"What do you mean?" I asked. Wayne was in rather a quandary. He wanted to know something important to him but Tom had been rather severe in his questioning.
"What do you mean?" I repeated, keeping my voice very quiet.
"Och, I do it more times than that says," he said very rapidly.
"But that's only the average, some lads do it a lot more, some do it fewer times. I shouldn't worry. You'd soon know if you do it too much 'cause you'll make it hurt."
A look of great relief appeared on his face.
"Och, I have tae do it lots, I'm always thinking about things....," he said.
"What things?" I asked.
Wayne was in the confessional mode now.
"Och, all they girls in our class at school before I left, and Gavin and Tom and you...."
He stopped, realising he'd, perhaps, let more cats out of bags than he'd intended.
"But it's alright, Wayne, boys often think of other boys wanking when they do it. Is that what you think of? But you think of girls as well?"
Wayne nodded at both these questions. Tom leaned forward.
"What happened about Mary Collins? You were keen on her and I thought you'd had it off with her after that party. Was that no complaints? You think of her?"
"Och, aye," said Wayne resignedly, "But I didnae hae it with her. I boasted I did but I couldnae stop myself shooting ma stuff when she was touching me and she slapped me and said I was a dirty wean for getting it on her leg. I didnae dare ask her to be my girlfriend after that."
"Lots of boys come quickly like that," I said from the pinnacle of knowledge I'd reached after reading the printout. "You mustn't worry about that." I waited a moment for Wayne to digest that gobbet of information. He nodded. I went on. "Do you still think of her?"
"Aye," he said, his eyes brightening a bit, "I do a lot."
"Does she have a boyfriend?" I asked.
Wayne shook his head. "She works at that shop with Archie's sister and she told ma sister Marcie she wasnae interested in any boys."
The bush telegraph again!
"Maybe, she's not interested in boys because she might be interested in one boy, you," I said. I looked at Wayne. He was a good looking lad. A slight residue of adolescent acne but I would have given him a run any time if Tom wasn't my choice. "Why don't you ask her?"
Thankfully, Tom kept quiet. Wayne thought for a moment.
"My dad's supposed to be doing some work at the shop next week, perhaps I'll ask him if I can do it and then I'll be there. But why would she want to go out with me, I'm not interesting?"
"Wayne," I said, "I would have thought you could get any girl. You're not bad looking. You do very good work - no, I think you do superb work seeing what you've done in our rooms and you are a good artist as well. Are you frightened she might remind you of that once when you fired off too soon?"
Wayne nodded.
"Well, why don't you ask her out next week when you're at the shop. Take her out to the pictures or for a meal... but, don't try any hanky-panky, be nice, find out what she's interested in." Agony Aunt Flip was in full flow! "But, don't go telling everyone's gossip like you do."
Tom nudged me. "You've given old Wayne plenty of ideas for beating his meat, eh? Oooh! I bet he'll make his old bed rattle tonight! Oooh! Mary Collins here I come! Oops, sorry, I didn't mean the pun."
Wayne shot him a baleful look. "And I dinnae suppose you canna keep your great hands off that gey big cock of yours you were always boasting about. You're a fine one to talk. You and that Lachlan were always awa in the storeroom and I niver saw you with any girls."
"Spying, now, Wayne? Is that an addition to your accomplishments?"
I chipped in. "I know all about him and Lachlan......" I turned and gave Tom a sweet smile, "...And he knows all about me. Don't you?"
Tom did have the grace to smile a bit as well.
Wayne looked at me. "And disnae he keep you awake with his wanking? He's a gey wan to talk!"
He then stared at me. Pennies were dropping. Two lads sharing a bed. One a known wanker. The same one known to have wanked with other lads. No girlfriends.
What about the other? He's just said Tom knows all about him.
Wayne stared hard at me. "Does that mean you and him....." The question hovered.
I plunged in, feet first. "Tom and I intend to live together. We'll be living together in Edinburgh anyway, and it was quite sensible for Tom to move in here because his parents were moving. And that's that."
Wayne fixed his eyes on me, ignoring Tom.
"And does that mean you and him....?"
"What it means is none of your business, Wayne," I said. "What we do with our lives is for us and what you do with yours is for you. OK?"
Wayne nodded and was going to say something but Tom put a hand out and laid it on Wayne's arm.
"You can think what you like, Wayne, but if I hear one word of anything about this household being bandied about and I find it's you then your wee cock and bollocks will be in a glass case next to the dodo in the museum and Mary Collins will have to satisfy herself with a candle! Understand?"
"Och, Tam," Wayne said, with some feeling, "You've always been a good friend to me what would I do to hurt you? I know I blether and tell folks things but I dinnae mean any harm. You gave me a fright just now and the other day but I promise I won't be saying anything."
Tom grinned at Wayne and patted his arm reassuringly.
"Sorry, old mate, I was pulling your leg just now. No hard feelings? Don't worry, I wouldn't ask Dr Menzies to dock your pay for wanking time. But you did, didn't you?"
Wayne looked at me. I grinned too. The atmosphere in the room changed.
"'Cause I did and I bet you two did as well when you read it!"
S23: The End of the Holidays Approacheth
Time flew. We were both packed and ready to go to Edinburgh days before it was necessary. At least, we packed, thought, unpacked, thought again and put everything back. Both Tom and I were getting a bit edgy so on the Saturday before setting off on the Sunday Aunt Margaret took the three of us out for a meal in Fort William. This time she went in escorted first by Stuart, with Tom and me following as before. She said the last time she had been Ghazi's girl for the evening. That was a phrase I would have to pull his leg about!
On getting back Stuart and Aunt Margaret soon went off to their respective beds. Tom and I were still a bit restless so I sat down and wrote my letters.
I started with Little Dick. I enclosed with that one a photo Tom had managed to take with the time-lapse on his camera. It showed Tom, Stuart and me, kilted and sporraned against a backdrop of our beloved Scottish scenery. On the back I wrote 'Two Red Polls, Flip and Stuart, with a Black Angus, named Tom.'
As Ghazi had already started his course at the LSE in London I said I hoped he was working hard and wasn't bothering Bernard too much. I had discovered from a rather long, discursive phone call from him that Bernard Mattheson, the rugger player, was also ensconced in the flat in St John's Wood.
I wrote two letters, but enclosed them in the same envelope, to Hamed and Clyde, still at the health spa in France. Hamed had written to say they were very busy and enjoying things. Clyde had phoned saying we were expected out there at Easter.
Letters to Dr Williams and Mr and Mrs McCrae said how much I appreciated and valued all they had done for me and I hoped that what I was about to embark on was going to be successful. I knew in my heart it would be, but five years of study stretched into the future.
Finally, I couldn't put it off any longer.
'Dear Mum,
Please forgive me for not keeping in contact. I think it was for the best now that I came to Scotland and I hope that I have made the best of it. I have wanted to tell you many times about how I was getting on but something always stopped me. At last I have the courage to write. I have never stopped loving you so please forgive me.
I owe so much to Aunt Margaret for looking after me and I know that my decision to train as a doctor will help to repay much of her kindness. She has Stuart now to look after and I am proud to have him as my ever-loving brother.
I want to tell you about Tom and me. We are going to study together in Edinburgh but, more importantly, we are going to live together. In fact, we are going to commit our lives to each other and we want your love and affection to sustain us in the future.
I am so sorry that I could not cope with life at home. But, whatever happened has been the making of me. The decision to send me to Kinloch School was the best conclusion to that dreadful time I made for you. I shudder to think what might have become of me if I had been allowed to stay at home. That decision saved me. Not only that, it has left me with a group of wonderful friends from school, and even more importantly, with my intended companion, my dear Tom.
A short letter to make up for four years parting. I send my love and I hope and pray that you will be able to take me back into your heart and find a space for a new son, Tom.
Enclosed is a photo of Stuart, Tom and me taken just beyond Glenfinnan on one of our favourite treks.
Love,
Flip'
To be continued.............