Flip's Tale
Chapter
Six
We didn't have time to do anything that afternoon. Aunt Margaret was rushing around like a scalded cat as surgery had overrun and she was running late. I was given various jobs to do but that village party was brill. The news that I was going to follow in Aunt Margaret's footsteps had gone round the village and must have been chewed over, digested, ingested, whatever. Tom told me afterwards that he heard two of the older ladies discussing the various people at the party and heard them say about me, 'he'll be a gey young doctor'. I pointed out that it didn't mean they'd guessed anything about me!
We couldn't get together again until the next afternoon when it was too wintry to go out anywhere. We had two very intense sessions with firstly a slow build-up of feeling, stroking, nuzzling, until we sixty-nined and lapped at each other's rods up and down the underside until Tom murmured he was about to come. I took his hot knob-end just into my mouth and licked his ridge. He was doing the same to me and then clamped his lips tight round my shaft as his prick jerked and massive spurts of his warm boycream filled my mouth. I then let fly and seemed to spasm for ages, but he kept my surging cock firmly clamped until he sensed my climax was over. Quickly we turned head to head and gently exchanged each other's spunk, mixing and mingling the tastes and smells. We had decided long ago this was one of our favourite times. I kissed Tom's lips, then his cheek and then his ear. We lay together savouring each other's warm bodies and the stillness and quiet in the bungalow.
“Oh, Flip,” he said after we had lain like that for some minutes, “I do miss you when you're at school.”
“I miss you too, Tom. In bed at night I think of your little pug nose, your cross-eyes, that third tooth on the left with a chip in it, your spotty chin, that tiny stub you call a penis...”
I got no further as he rolled over me, grinning broadly, pulling my ears and rubbing his slightly rough chin over my cheek..
“Cheeky bugger, trust you to spoil the moment,” he said, “But my wee stub is exactly the same length as your shrimpy little stump.” It was too, we both now had exactly six and a half inches of prime Scots beef when they pointed up hard against our bellies. Mine was just a bit thicker, though. “In any case,” he continued, “You're the mathematician so you should be able to work out that as I'm only six foot one to your six foot three, then in proportion, I've got more cock than you, so there!”
“You're quite right,” I said, “But it's volume that counts and mine's fatter than yours.”
“Fuck you, Flip, you've always got an answer.”
I reached round him and hugged him to me.
“You can fuck me again when we're both eighteen. Promise?”
We kissed deeply then separated and lay just touching each other again.
“But honestly, Flip,” he said slowly, “I do miss you. I love you more and more each day and I can't wait until you get home here each holiday and I can see you again. I wonder sometimes if you'll want to see me again. You're with all those boys and you can be with Ghazi every day. That boy Pete wants you too. It was so noticeable in the car and then over lunch the way he kept looking at you. You've got to be careful.”
This was a Tom who didn't usually bare his inner feelings in so many words. I turned and kissed his cheek.
“I'm sorry, Tom, I know I'm lucky. But, Ghazi and I are really only very, very good friends. We do love each other, but I think it's like brothers. I love you because you are Tom.” I kissed him again. “Ghazi and I sleep together, we wank each other and we suck each other. It's beautiful, he's a lovely person but it's a way to share our friendship. With you I want to share my body and my life and that's what I intend to do and Ghazi knows that. He's never tried to steal my affection for you. As for Pete, he's had no one to talk to before. I promise you I won't let him seduce me unless you're there as well. He is a tasty morsel, though, isn't he?”
Tom looked at me with his beautiful blue eyes and kissed me this time, his lips quivering with suppressed laughter..
“I know,” he said, “You could have your pick of any of them. Paul is very fond of you and he told me when you weren't around that all the young kids like and respect you because you are helpful and kind and don't put them down.” He paused and giggled. “Actually, I wouldn't put young Pete down until I'd had my fill. If he is as randy as Ghazi says perhaps the pair of us could subdue his urges for a while. But I do get lonely with just my five fingers to keep me company when you're away.”
“What about Lachlan?” I asked, as he hadn't been mentioned recently and deflecting the attention off Pete who, I must say, would be a prime choice for dalliance if I hadn't had my position, Ghazi and Tom to think of! Down boy! Just thinking of stroking those hairy thighs began to interfere with my thought processes. However, I swung back to reality quickly as Tom went on.
Tom laughed. “Arch-wanker Lachlan discovered girl-fucking last year so he told me. He's got some half-witted bimbo, she must be to be taken in by his tales, and he tells me every Monday morning how many times he's fucked her over the weekend. He says she doesn't realise he's still at school as he's told her he's only around at the weekends because he's in the SAS on secret duty. True, he looks older than eighteen but he's such a bloody liar I don't even know what to believe myself with all his tales.”
I laughed this time. “I expect he just exercises his right arm and makes it all up. Do you still have dealings with him, otherwise?”
Tom snickered. “No, rarely now. I told him last term I didn't want his pussy-stained fingers wrapped round my cock and he took umbrage and just told me to fuck off. He came back a week later after he'd told me about his latest round of shagging and he was so bloody rampant we did have a quickie in the storeroom. Since then..., a couple of times..., but I'm not interested in him. Anyway, if he is fucking the bimbo she must be satisfied with thickness as it's only just over five inches and he's a big lad now.”
While we had been talking we had moved so we were facing each other. I had my left arm under him with my hand just caressing his back. His left arm was over my shoulder and he was gently kneading my neck. We closed in and kissed deeply, our other hands feathering up and down our once again erect lengths.
For twenty minutes we revelled in each other's lips, backs and, above all those oh-so-sensitive shafts standing so proud and stiff between us. For once I was ready to come first. My hips began to buck slightly and Tom taking the signal, pulled down sharply on my foreskin stretching it very tightly so my piss-slit must have been wide open. Gush after gush of sticky boycream landed on our torsos and, within a minute, Tom's benefaction joined it. I quickly put both arms round him so these new offerings were shared by our outer bodies this time. The familiar smell of just expelled cum rose from between us. I put my hand down and smeared it over both of us.
“Do you realise,” I said quietly to Tom, “All those little jiggers in that took seventy-four days to produce and you.....”
“Shut the fuck up you mine of useless knowledge,” Tom responded resignedly, “If you say anything else you won't be making any more...”
He pressed his lips on mine, we clasped each other tightly then I reached down and held his lovely balls and whispered, “I love you, Tom, I couldn't stop you making it, let me too.”
That evening Aunt Margaret asked if I was O.K. She said I was rather lost in my own thoughts after I hadn't answered her a couple of times. I was feeling rather light-headed with the thoughts of the wonderful afternoon experienced with Tom. I couldn't tell her that so I said Tom and I had been discussing the best way to work towards the forthcoming examinations. We had, but that was after we'd washed and dressed and banished the smells and evidence of our skirmishes. We had sat and mulled over the tasks we had to do this Easter Term while drinking at least two hot cups of coffee and scoffing some home-made scones left over from the party. Aunt Margaret said I wasn't to work too hard. Slow and sure was the answer. Start to work as soon as I got back to school, or best, start before as I had books with me, and take things steadily.
Both Tom and I took her advice. We met up at nine each morning until I had to return to school, exchanged ideas and notes and worked steadily until twelve o'clock on the three subjects we had in common, Physics, Chemistry and Biology. I was also taking Pure Mathematics so I solved problems during the evenings after Tom had gone home. After lunch we rested from those labours and laboured otherwise. We both grew closer and closer and it was with sadness we parted for me to return to Kinloch School.
6B: Easter Term: 2000:
I had left a parcel with Aunt Margaret for Tom's birthday. I'd had to go into Fort William on an errand for her and had bought Tom a beautiful skean dhu in a lovely leather sheath. I had it engraved 'Tom McClaren January 28 2000'. I knew he would like it because whenever he came into my bedroom he would pick my father's up from the top of the dressing-table where I kept it on display.
I'd had Mr McCrae's permission to drive myself to school and leave the car in his garage. I had strict instructions it wasn't to be taken out for jaunts except just to keep the engine going. So, all things packed into the car, I set off.
The term started quietly. So quietly, in fact, I didn't notice Little Dick wasn't around. It wasn't until I went wandering towards the chapel armed with a couple of maths problems that I realised that there was no organ playing. I sat in the stillness and solved them OK but it didn't seem quite the same. When I asked Paul where he was he wasn't very forthcoming and said he was perfectly alright and would be back in a week or so.
Ghazi was glad to see me anyway and we slipped back into our usual routine of relaxing after a busy day with a leisurely chat through the days happenings and then a slow release of our mutual randiness. As Ghazi was horny seven days out of seven and I was equally ready nights and mornings as well, we almost always had both a long, wonderful suck at night and a sensuous feeling of each other's bodies as we woke, culminating with another outpouring of our ever-flowing boycream. In fact, we often spent so long in the mornings revelling in the feelings throughout our bodies before releasing our loads we had to rush to wash, dress and get breakfast before the gannets gobbled it all up.
About ten days into term both Pete and Jamie asked me to help them with their maths. As Pete was so much better than Jamie but wanted to check, so he said, on some of the harder type of problems I suggested they worked separately. There was a side room of the prep room and I said we should work there. At least we could talk privately and there wasn't any reason for anyone to think we weren't dealing exclusively with mathematical matters.
Pete was still in a turmoil over his feelings for Jamie. I told him to keep calm as there were very important exams for him next term and he mustn't mope about being thwarted in any way. He was happier towards the close of the term as he said he and Jamie had managed to have a couple of intense sessions together - in the back room of the CCF stores - and Jamie had asked him outright if they could share next year as First Year Sixth-Formers.
A big surprise, and something for much rejoicing, was Little Dick's triumph. He had been away about a fortnight at the beginning of term. But, being Little Dick, he wasn't missed except as the shadowy figure on the periphery of most events. Then, at the beginning of February in Chapel, the Rector - a posh name for our Headmaster - announced that Richard Richardson had been in London for examinations and had been awarded a diploma for organ playing by the Royal College of Organists. We all clapped like mad!
Hamed towards the end of term was not clapping like mad, he was more like hopping like mad. The master in charge of Rugby, known to all and sundry as Poppa, was a very amiable man. Many years before he had been a Scottish international player and, somehow, had acquired a fourth class degree from Oxford in, I assume, Geography, which is what he taught. But, Poppa, although a brilliant coach, was no organiser. A frequent grunt was that he couldn't organise a piss-up in a brewery, or as more coarser elements would say, a gang-rape in Rider's.
This last was because he was Assistant Housemaster in Rider's House, the boys of which, from time immemorial, were judged to be the most unsporty, the most beautiful, the best-mannered, the best-dressed, all scoring one or two on the scale one to fifteen where 'highest score is the one you would most likely kick out of bed'. Rider's always came bottom of the heap on Sports Day or in the Inter-House competitions except for fencing and, not surprisingly, as it was useful to keep the marauders away, karate. Another achievement was the number of participants in the annual Christmas pantomime put on by the boys of the school, mainly to lampoon teachers and fellow students. Last year's was a riot with Rider's house lads very much to the fore. In fact, Fergie's comment, after seeing the lead in well-padded tights, was that there seemed to be more Dick than Whittington - as if he should be jealous!.
Oblivious to the reported goings-on in the House between it's members - members reported to be erect night and day - Poppa lived his own disorganised way. One goings-on the previous year had been the end of Easter Term dinner put on by the Second-Year Sixth members of the House plus a couple of guests, one from McCrae's who happened to be Captain of Fencing. It was from him that a garbled version of the events of the evening was ascertained. He was helped home, reeling, mumbling about the fineness of the food and wine, and was still pie-eyed in the morning when to a startled group of new-bugs and older inhabitants of the House at breakfast he announced that they had been served dinner by naked cherubs.
As one of my fellow Pure (?) Mathematicians was in that House, but not at the dinner, I quizzed him and he said it was almost true. Their ten new-bugs had all volunteered to act as footmen, waiters, vomitorium-keepers or whatever and been togged out in white tanga thongs, gold head circlets and arm bracelets and then powdered white to enhance the appearance of nakedness. A good time was had by all - but all participants were too drunk to carry on with a cherub!
Poppa's unfortunate tendency to procrastinate, or even forget, meant that things like inter-school match lists never appeared unless someone like Hamed badgered him for details. As Hamed was Vice-Captain of rugger he had a lot of responsibility to keep things going and it was almost at the end of the Easter Term when he'd been to see Poppa for something or other that he spotted a letter on his desk, dated more than a month previously, asking for two players, hooker and No. 8, to play in a representative match for Scottish schools in Perth the last Saturday of term and would accommodation be needed?
Poppa waved his hand dismissively when Hamed asked what he should do.
“Och,” he said, “Just send them a note that you and Flip will go and don't worry about accommodation, the school they are using is crap - just arrange a motel and I'll pay!”
That got him out of that fix.
Oh. That meant a journey to Perth had to be arranged as well. But I had my trusty car and with Poppa's help we persuaded Mr McCrae that I could drive to Perth on the Friday and drive back on the Sunday, or, if too exhausted after the game, back on Monday. But, Hamed was supposed to be king-pin in a big CCF parade to be held on the Friday afternoon so he had the bright idea that straitlaced Angus could take his place, which would give him a great sense of importance, and his even better idea was to get the two wankers to be parade marshals and promoted to temporary corporal for the occasion. Needless to say Angus was both delighted and miffed at the same time!
The week before the game there was great panic. Poppa had not sent the form back with sizes of jerseys and shorts. Hamed phoned the organiser who knew Poppa's ways of old and on the Thursday the number 2 and the number 8, correct size, blue for Scotland shirts, four pairs of white shorts and two pairs of blue football socks appeared by special delivery. There was also a terse note for the pair of us to appear at the ground by 11.30 a.m. sharp!
We decided to take off early on the Friday and had worked out it was about a hundred miles to Perth. It was a most uneventful journey and we chatted about everything and nothing all the way. We stopped off at Pitlochry down the A9 and had a look at the salmon leap before lunch and arrived at the motel outside Perth during the afternoon. A nice leisurely journey.
The room was OK, but of course, Poppa, bless him, had boobed again. He'd asked for a double room, but not a double with two single beds.... There it was, a large, king-sized, double-bed - good old Poppa! Tact or forgetfulness - one would never know! We both looked at it and laughed. We both knew it would be well-used over the weekend!
I said I wanted a shower and stripped off in preparation, Hamed stripped off too as he said he would join me, or at least, as the shower stall was small, have one after me. We turned towards each other and smiled. I had seen Hamed in the nude many times but today, tonight and tomorrow night I was going to be able to examine him very closely. He was now, at nearly twenty, about five feet eight inches - a good couple of inches shorter than his younger cousin, Ghazi, and about the same difference in height from his constant companion, Clyde. But, it was five feet eight of compact muscle. His dusky skin showed every ripple of his stomach and overlaying all this was a fine mat of black, almost straight hair which fanned out from his belly button, up his stomach and across his chest to his throat. His most wonderful possession was his beautiful circumcised penis. Just like the object I worshipped most nights, belonging to Ghazi, his was also dark-hued from the root to where his foreskin had been cut away. From there it was a delicate pinkish shade just before the dark red of his heavy helmet. I wanted that wonderful possession of his to give him the greatest pleasure tonight.
Hamed came over to me and put his hand out and very carefully cupped my balls in his palm.
“Remember that first weekend, Flip? We've never done this again except when you grabbed me in the scrum. Fergie always says about that film he saw about gorillas and the way they greet their friends by holding each other's balls. I knew that night you were all my friends and my greatest disappointment is that I have had to wait nearly four years to be alone like this with you.”
I put my hand out and cupped his balls, two low-swinging orbs, also covered in sable fur. I put my other arm round his shoulders.
“I wondered that first week what would happen to all of us. I was new, you and Ghazi were new.... I think we've survived, haven't we? Let's have a shower and we can find out some more before we go hunting for food like the gorillas.”
The shower turned out to be just big enough to accommodate two careful bathers. We helped each other by soaping each other liberally with the rather highly scented shower gel provided by the motel. Two dried, combed and deodorised companions made for the bed and felt each others now erect cocks, a dry towel placed between them.
Gradually, very deliberately we caressed each other. I explored Hamed's body and he explored mine. He wanted to run his fingers through my now abundant auburn curls above my cock, I needed to feel the texture of his silky hair. I put my head down and gently tongued first one, then the other, of his large dark red nipples. He groaned and arched his back as I did this. In response he licked inside my ear and then down round my chin and under my neck. An opening gambit which Ghazi always found rendered me almost senseless with desire. My fires really awakened now I rolled on top of him and we tongue-fucked with increasing violence as our rigid shafts rubbed against each other.
“Oh, shit, Flip,” he gasped, “I'm going to come!! Oooooooooooooooh!”
A warm wetness spread between us as he let fly. I crushed our two bodies together again and again, his still hard cock pulsating against mine until my climax came and my spunk joined his. As soon as my breathing came down to more normal levels I kissed his eyes, then the tip of his nose, finally our lips locked and our tongues caressed each other. We audibly squelched as we moved apart.
“Oh, Flip,” he said, so quietly and sadly, “I've had to wait nearly four years for that. I've wanted to be with you so often. Clyde teases me when I tell him you make my cock leap and he says I should have told you that a long time ago. But I know you love Tom as much as I love my Clyde and your friendship with Ghazi is wonderful and I didn't want to make it all any more difficult.”
I said I had thought of that first weekend and the feel of his balls and cock in my hand many times. I said I loved Ghazi too, but I'd made my commitment to Tom. I said I was worried about Ghazi going to London especially as he wouldn't know anyone there. He said I was not to worry as he would be staying in a flat in St John's Wood with Charles to begin with. I found out that Hamed had made peace with Charles and he was now reconciled to being someone important in their family.
Although at first his uncle was puzzled that he didn't want to go to Officer Training School he had agreed that Hamed should make his own mind up what he wanted to do. He said that he'd arranged that his uncle would assume all control over the family affairs so that he could live in France with Clyde. Hamed's uncle had been impressed by Clyde's charm and his business sense and with his granddaddy's Southern courtesy, so he was not at all concerned about the two lads being together. Also he saw a good business prospect in the making!
Hamed smiled. “Most men in my culture have a best friend. My uncle's is one of his advisors and they often go off hunting together!” He winked.
Of course, we had to have another shower and then went out hunting ourselves. We found a good restaurant and stuffed ourselves with good Scottish cooking. And so to bed.
Our love-making that night was slow and sensuous. We explored every part of each other and finished up in my favourite sixty-nine position. Slowly, slowly we raised each other to a great burst of frenzy at the end. Sucking, licking, panting, frantically clawing at each other's backs as our hips bucked and loads of warm spunk streamed from our engorged pricks. Another of my favourite rituals then ensued. We lay head to head and exchanged and blended our offerings to each other then fell asleep most contented.
After the usual four of the numerous S's in the morning (shit, shower, shampoo and shave this time) we breakfasted in leisurely fashion and then packed our rugger kit and made our way to the school where the match was to be played. We were almost the first to get there and the coach, a great pal of Poppa's from the past, wanted to know how the old bastard was. Diplomatically, I said he was exactly the same as usual which went down well.
We had a quick training session as soon as the team was assembled, then lunch and then the game. We just managed to beat the other side although they were a well-drilled bunch and several times I though we were really going to get hammered. Hamed did a bit of hammering himself. As usual there was some dirty play from both sides and one of our forwards had a cut above the eye from a well-aimed punch from one of their side. Naturally, the ref didn't see the occurrence, but there was some muttering amongst our front row and in the next scrum the offender had a real battering from Hamed and our two prop forwards. I saw Hamed's fist hit somewhere around the lad's solar plexus and he was on his back struggling for breath as the game moved away from him.
But, as rugby goes, in the bath afterwards - a real full-sized Rugby Club bath - he leaned over and shook hands with the four of them and said he was sorry he'd lost his temper. Chatting to him afterwards I found he was also going in September to the same London college as Ghazi and we exchanged names and addresses. In fact, the three of us went off after the rather sparse tea to a local pub and had a couple of pints each before he had to get back to the bus taking him back to the school he and the rest of his team were staying at. He was rather envious that we'd been allowed to drive to the venue. I was also rather intrigued because Hamed was not supposed to drink alcohol - but - he never refused the offer!
We had another good meal later and wended our way back to the motel. We flipped idly through the telly channels - being deprived of such stimulation at school didn't seem to want to make us telly addicts when it was available - decided quickly that old films and rather tired so-called comedy programmes were not to our liking so, not reluctantly, prepared for bed.
Getting to know Hamed over the past four years meant I knew he had a very dry sense of humour. Someone in Clyde's constant companionship had to be the opposite, a foil to Clyde's tongue and his ever ready wit. I had grown to like Hamed more and more over the time I had known him. I had found the surly, bad-tempered creature of the first couple of days to emerge as a kind, sweet-natured, hard as steel in defence of his friends person, who I would trust with anything. He and Ghazi were very much alike and I knew that Hamed valued me as a good friend and companion for Ghazi.
We lay together in bed, gently caressing each other and reminisced about all the happenings over the past four years. He knew some of my background but I went through the whole sorry story again. He stroked my back, then kissed my cheek as I finished saying about how I felt I was exiled at the time.
“I've been exiled since I was seven,” he murmured, “Thirteen years and I don't want to go back. But, you must make peace with your mother. My mother cannot read or write so my sister writes to me and says my mother still loves me and wants me back home. I can't go back. It is not my home. My friends and my future are not there. Your future and friends are not at your home either but your family are. It is difficult for us when we are growing up, isn't it?”
I said I realised the best thing that had ever happened to me was to be sent into exile. I was a different me now, but a satisfied me. Perhaps, I said, being sent so far from home had been the best for Hamed as well. He said he agreed.
We were so together that night I was lost in the those wonderful bouts of sex we had. Hamed was such a considerate lover, we knew exactly what each other needed and in the end I just lost count of the number of times we came before we fell asleep. The last time was with Hamed's legs over my shoulders and my trusty sabre deep inside him. He had asked me to fuck him just like his Clyde did. A gentle lunge, after preparation, was all that was needed to win the point. I then offered myself but he said he had never wanted to fuck Clyde so to the accompaniment of his delighted moans I used all the subtlety of my experience of licking and sucking to draw his final delivery, spurting and spraying, into my wanton mouth.
We woke still in each other's arms. His smaller body close up to me, his head crooked into my chest, my arm round him holding him, almost protectively. I wanted him again in some way. I felt for his penis which, boy-like, was firmly erect. I licked my hand to lubricate it and gently drew my hand up and down as his prick stiffened completely. I wanked him awake - he came in powerful jets over both of us just after his eyes opened wide.
“That was beautiful, Flip,” he breathed out, “I've never been woken like that. It was perfect.”
He slid down the bed and my night production of boycream was drawn from my ever ready sacs in a gentle duplication of his last experience of the night before. I kissed him deeply as he returned, sticky-mouthed, and said I hoped he and Clyde would be happy together. I thought, if he and Clyde were as passionate together as we had been the last two nights then both would be contented young men. I also thought that I would have to confess to Tom and Ghazi that last most wonderful encounter the previous night.
6C: End of Term:
Our arrival back before supper on Sunday evening was greeted by Ghazi and Clyde who wanted to know all about the game. We said we were hungry and would give them a first-hand account later. After supper the seven of us met up in Ghazi's and my room. Paul produced yet another bottle of malt and we all toasted our success. Clyde had to go off to supervise the new-bugs, now getting to know the ropes and needing to be kept in order. Then Paul and the other two made their excuses and disappeared off leaving just Ghazi, Hamed and me.
Hamed was sitting on Ghazi's bed and, quite unselfconsciously, they were holding hands. I then remembered about Bernard Mattheson, the battered forward. I fished around and found the piece of paper with his name and address on it. I recounted the incident and the front row's response.
“...And Hamed punched the poor bugger straight in the guts...” I continued, “After the other two had duffed him up as well. But...” Here I paused, “..He turned out to be a nice chap. We went out for a drink later and he's going to the same place as you in September... Here you are, name and address and you are to get in touch with him.”
I saw Ghazi look at Hamed quizzically and Hamed squeezed his hand.
“True,” said Hamed.
“I hope you two aren't match-making. I shall be OK, I'll make friends.”
“Come on Ghazi,” said Hamed, “He'll be just OK for you. He's six foot five, eighteen stone if a pound, and he's got a dong on him like a donkey! The only trouble is you'll wear the poor bugger out!”
Ghazi turned on his cousin and wrestled him over the bed.
“I'll fucking stop your cheek, you fiend, I bet you and that sex-maniac over there cooked all this up!”
I went over and grabbed Ghazi's legs so he was suspended still clutching at Hamed.
“You're the little fiend,” I said, with a hint of mock menace in my voice, “Did you sleep with Clyde while we were away? He looked as if he was getting bags under his eyes.”
Ghazi's infectious giggle emerged from his mutterings.
“I don't tell tales on my friends but Clyde needed a bit of comfort in his loneliness...”
“...And you, you sexaholic, had to make sure he was consoled, I suppose?” I said, bending his legs down and giving him a couple of smart whacks on his pert little bum.
“Retribution is needed,” said Hamed, grabbing his shoulders.
Our usual technique worked a treat with Ghazi. He squirmed, giggled and relapsed into hoots of laughter as we worked our fingers over his torso. So much so that a couple of sharp raps were heard as someone in Paul's room banged on the wall. Hamed put a hand over Ghazi's mouth and we stripped him completely very quickly. His boycock was, as usual, erect. I looked over at Hamed and we dropped him on the bed and divested ourselves of our clothes holding the squirming bundle down with whatever free hand or foot available. Within moments we were in a three-way with Ghazi fixed on Hamed's cock, Hamed on mine and I on Ghazi's. Three friends later lay huddled together and passed each other's spunk around on lips and tongues.
Later still, when Hamed had gone to bed in his own room Ghazi and I were in bed together and lying close as I told him about Hamed's last gift to me the night before. Ghazi kissed my ear.
“I told him not to hold anything back from you,.” he said quietly, “We both love you very much. Before you went on Friday he told me he'd wanted to be with you ever since that first weekend and what should he do. I just told him to be himself because I knew that you liked him as well.”
“No, Ghazi,” I said, “It's not like. It's more than that. I value him as a true and lovely person and as a great friend and now as a wonderful lover, just as I love you and your body, but most important it's because you are you and he is he.”
Ghazi kissed my ear again, then hugged me tight. “And what about this friend you've got for me?”
I laughed. “He's not quite as big as Hamed said. He's a bit shorter than me, he's tough-looking, he's bright, but I did note he was quite well-endowed when we got out of the bath, so you should be alright.”
Ghazi muttered something about I was a cheeky fucker which meant I had to deal with him again. After we had both come twice more we decided it was time these two sexaholics had a good night's sleep!
I never asked him what had happened between him and Clyde while we had been away but it was noticeable that Clyde referred to him more than once before the end of term as McJizz!
The day before we broke up for the Easter holiday there was a letter for each of the seven signed by Charles Parsons informing us that we were invited to stay at Linnhe Castle for the Easter weekend, Maundy Thursday to the next Tuesday at least. Paul expressed surprised as he said he's heard nothing about it from his parents. Fergie and Little Dick were intrigued and said they would definitely be there while Clyde just smiled one of his enigmatic smiles. Ghazi was staying with me over the Easter vac and Hamed was going to Linnhe anyway. There was a postscript to my letter saying that Tom McClaren was also being invited and would I arrange transport for him and Ghazi! On the final day of term, as I was packing my car ready for the off, I saw young Pete putting his two bags with Paul's as they waited for Paul's mum to appear. Would he be at Linnhe as well?
6D: Three Birthdays:
As Easter was late this year we had broken up on my birthday and we had a fortnight before going to Linnhe. I was eighteen now and the night before we seven had had a little celebration in my and Ghazi's room. Paul's bottle of malt went the rounds and I was toasted several times and wished all good fortune now I was a man from midnight. This left only Ghazi who was still officially a boy, so he was made to be our slave and pour the drinks. In bed that night Ghazi willingly dealt with my incipient manmeat and sucked out my mancream, as he called it, while I, later, teased him by saying his was still a boycock but his boycream was still sweet and tasty.
There were plenty of books and notes to pack to take back to Glenfinnan as we vowed to spend as much time as possible on revising for the exams which would start as soon as we arrived back. Tom would be joining in as all three of us were taking Biology, Chemistry and Physics, while I was the only one taking Pure Maths as well, though Ghazi was doing Economics as a fourth.
Of course, as soon as we met up with Tom when we arrived back at Glenfinnan he wanted to know what had been going on during the term that I hadn't put in my letters to him. Ghazi told him some cock-and-bull story that my reputation was now the highest in the school as I'd personally shagged the greatest number of new-bugs in one term in the whole history of the place and they would be putting up a special plaque in the chapel when I kicked the bucket saying 'He died with a smile on his face, let him rest in a piece'. I vowed he would have to be dealt with and Tom also, who laughed and said he wouldn't be surprised. I still had to tell Tom about Hamed and me at the motel and the wonderful fuck.
Not to worry. I managed to get five minutes away from Ghazi while he went to the village stores and confessed all to Tom. He laughed again.
“Och, Flip,” he said, knowingly, “That boy's wanted you for ever. I saw that when we were at the castle last time. Every time you came into the room he looked at you but I think he's satisfied now. Are you?”
Perceptive Tom. I had told him, of course, about the way Hamed had been tamed all those years ago now. Perhaps tamed was the wrong word, but I'd also told Tom many times how much I liked Hamed and I think he realised there was unfinished business. It was true. Those two nights in the motel had sealed a great friendship and we had secured that friendship by the loving acts we had engaged in. Since then, just two weeks ago, we had moved to a new level of friendship. We couldn't meet without smiling at each other and I, for one, having a rise in my spirits. It was the same with Ghazi and, most of all, Tom.
“Tom,” I said, “Hamed and I will be friends for life!”
Ghazi's birthday was on the Saturday after mine. Tom and I had clubbed together and with some help from Aunt Margaret, who thought Ghazi was a darling, had bought him a portable CD player. He was highly delighted with it, but I'd noticed Ghazi was rather quiet and I wondered if he'd hit a hard patch in his studies, or was rather sad as he was far from home on his eighteenth birthday. After lunch Aunt Margaret had to go as a locum to the hospital and said she would be back by seven unless there were any awful emergencies and we would all be having supper at eight.
We had originally decided to go for one of our rambles after studying like demons all morning but the weather was bloody awful so we were sitting in the living-room, all three on the sofa, just contemplating the infinite, when Ghazi put his hand into the pocket of the jeans he was wearing and drew out two small flattish boxes.
“I want you to have these,” he said, “They are with all my love and then I want to ask you something.”
He handed the boxes to Tom and me and we opened them. Inside were identical silvery rings. Inside each was engraved with a T and a P intertwined. We looked at Ghazi.
“They are for you to make your vows when you are ready,” he said slowly and carefully.
Tears were streaming down my face. I turned round and hugged him to me to be joined moments later by Tom.
“Oh, Ghazi,” I managed to say, “They are beautiful. You must have a lot of faith in us.”
“Yes, I do,” He said, an arm round each of us. “I bought them in France for you.”
“What, last summer?” Tom asked, “You must know how much we care for each other to do that and keep them so long.”
We let go of each other and drew apart. I held up my ring to look more closely at it.
Ghazi let out one of his famous giggles.
“Of course I knew you would be together. I told Hamed and Clyde what I was doing and they both agreed I should.. They knew you would be together, too.”
“They seem very heavy for silver,” I said, holding mine in the palm of my hand.
Ghazi giggled again. “Perceptive boy. Density is just over twice that of silver.”
Tom immediately said, “Platinum!” and I asked, “How could you afford them?”
“Well, I do have an allowance which I rarely spend and if I tell you a bit more you mustn't be angry.”
We sat back on the sofa and Ghazi launched into his tale.
“I'd decided while I was at the resort I must get something for you and I saw the plain rings in the jeweller's franchise we have in the lobby of the hotel. I did have enough money but then I had a windfall as well.” He looked at us in turn and leaned forward conspiratorially. “I ought to tell you, but you've probably guessed, that most of the clientele for the gym are gay men. Mostly in pairs and there is a strict rule - Clyde's granddaddy insisted - all members of staff are off-limits, especially us and those French ex-paras who run the gym. Doesn't mean we young-uns don't get looked over! Anyway, I had to check the shower room one morning because of a leaky pipe and while I was in there a sweaty German came in and said he would give me a thousand francs if I let him suck me off.”
Both Tom and I did rapid calculations, near enough a hundred pounds! I murmured something like he wasn't worth it and was rewarded by a thump by Tom.
“Come on Flip,” Tom said, “You'd sell yours for tuppence if anyone desperate enough would want it.”
“Bloody cheek!” I said vehemently, “I know who my friends are!” I turned to Ghazi. “And did you?”
“Of course not, I told him granddaddy's rule and at that moment his friend came up, asked me what was going on, thumped him and stalked off in a temper. This guy was all apologetic then and ran off looking for his pal. I told Hamed and Clyde and they said they would note it for granddaddy's judgment. That evening there were two envelopes in my pigeon-hole. A note from each of the two guys apologising and both enclosed a thousand francs.” Ghazi giggled again, “So I got two hundred quid for not being sucked off.” He lowered his voice. “I had that French lad in bed that night and I let him suck me off for nothing!” He sneered at me. “Not even for tuppence!”
“You toad!” I said, aiming a playful punch at him. “And you paid for our rings from immoral earnings!”
“No,” said Tom quietly, “You didn't listen. The earnings were moral. He didn't sell his body and he gave it freely to the French kid - who probably gives better head than you!”
I aimed a punch at him too and we all laughed. Then I was all serious. I put my hand out holding the ring towards Ghazi.
“I'll value this all my life, Ghazi. When we are ready, I want you to perform our ceremony.” I turned to Tom. “Do you agree?”
Tom wiped his eye. “Och, aye,” he said very quietly, “I'll make my vows any time.”
“I'll do it for you,” said Ghazi, “But, I want to ask the greatest favour of both of you.” He looked from one to the other of us. “I want something from you and I want to give you both something else.” He paused dramatically. “I want you both to fuck me like you described when you did it to each other.” He looked at me. “Hamed said you were so gentle and loving with him, I want you to be like that with me.”
The light dawned. When Ghazi had seemed angered by what I'd said about him and Pete he was already wanting us to take his virginity.
I looked at Tom and held my hand out to him. He nodded.
Ghazi looked so pleased and he went to his trouser pocket again and brought out two small packets.
“In case you want protection I brought these from France as well. They're special ones I had to order for the gym. But, I haven't been with anyone and I know I'm safe with you.”
Both Tom and I said simultaneously that we would not need them. We trusted each other. Ghazi smiled.
“Will you come to bed with me now?”
Tom and I got up and helped him to his feet. We towered over him a bit so we lifted him up and carried him to our bed. Tom shut the door, pulled the curtains and put the bedside light on.
“I've made all the preparations,” Ghazi said as I stroked his cheek, “Have a look in my bag there.”
I fished in his bag and found a small bottle of oil, some tissues and two large towels.
Tom meanwhile had been stripping off his jeans and shirt. He had a magnificent hardon already. His nearly seven inches stood up sturdy and strong bending out slightly from his body. My cock was also going hard but was still confined as we had to deal with Ghazi first. Tom went to his head end and undid his shirt buttons while I took off his trainers and socks then undid the top of his jeans.
While Tom helped him off with his shirt my clothes piled on the floor beside me. Then gently, Tom helped me take off Ghazi's jeans and underpants. We were ready.
Tom looked at me. “You are first.”
I leaned over Ghazi and kissed him gently on the lips then drew my tongue down under his chin and over his firm, jutting out nipples. As I moved down his body so Tom took over and opened Ghazi's mouth. They rotated their heads as their tongues duelled and Ghazi began to moan softly. I had reached his lovely hard prick by then and licked the mushroom gently which made him moan more. I lifted his legs so his feet were flat on the bed and moved my head down and kissed and licked his balls. I put one of the towels under his buttocks and rolled the other one and put that under him as well to raise him up a bit. After pouring some of the oil into the palm of my hand I let it warm there for a few moments then slowly drew a finger-full over his seemingly tight pucker. The moans intensified and I saw that Tom was now licking each of his nipples in turn.
Using plenty of the oil I pushed first one, then two fingers into his hole and gradually moved my fingers until he was open enough to let me put a third finger in. I constantly oiled my fingers and his hole with the oil until I could slide my fingers back and forward quite easily. He was very relaxed and this part so far had been easy. Tom stood up and came and stood by me.
Looking Ghazi straight in the eyes I lifted his legs up higher and Tom supported them so I was free to give all my attention to the next stage.
I bent my legs and moved around until my hard shaft was just touching my still inserted fingers. My prick entered him as I withdrew my fingers and he gasped as the first four inches slid in. Tom put his hand down from the back between my legs and held my balls as I pushed a little harder and then with hardly any further effort I was fully in.
I leaned right over him and kissed his open mouth.
“Fuck me slowly, please, Flip,” he said quietly, “I want all of you.”
Very slowly I moved back and forth. Each time I pushed forward a little harder willing my cock to expand and fill him more and more. He was gasping harder now on each stroke and after no more than thirty or so thrusts, when I knew I was fully in him and my pubes were pressed tight against him, I began to spasm and spurt after spurt of my spunk passed into my dear, dear friend. I was gasping now and when that subsided I leaned forward and kissed him again.
“I want Tom now,” he whispered.
I slowly withdrew my still hard prick and as I moved away so Tom took my place. I held Ghazi's legs and as Tom leaned over him I guided his prick to the waiting hole. I watched as inch after inch of his magnificent tool disappeared into Ghazi. Then he began the slow backwards and forwards movements and it wasn't long before he was gasping and with some massive jolts of his thigh and pelvic muscles he rammed his cock right in and shot his load to join mine. He stayed in position as we lowered Ghazi's legs a bit. I moved round to his side and took that well-remembered hard rod into my mouth and licked and sucked and drew out stream after stream of his young mancream. I leaned over and kissed him and passed him the remnants of his semen.
Tom and I went to the bathroom and washed ourselves. We kissed each other when we had finished and hugged each other and went back to join Ghazi. We lay on each side of him and cradled him in our arms. He was smiling and looked content. After a minute or so he turned to each of us in turn and kissed our cheeks.
“Would you do that again soon, after you've rested?” he asked..
I wanted to fuck him again immediately but I knew I would have to wait a while. That fuck was as sensual and passionate as those first fucks with Tom and Hamed. I looked at Tom. He knew what I was thinking and nodded.
“We want you to fuck us,” I said, “During next week, eh?”
Ghazi's face was a picture. “Oh, please,” he said, “If I can give you what you've just given me, I want to, I want to!”
We lay silently for about half an hour, each just touching each other, caressing and feeling our young, happy bodies. Tom was the first to move. He took some tissues and wiped away some of the spunk and residues around Ghazi's pucker. Tom's cock was a ramrod again as he oiled it and aimed it at the target. I kissed Ghazi as Tom made his entry and this time, lifting Ghazi's legs to rest over his broad shoulders, he thrust deep and went faster than before. As he got into a rhythm so Ghazi's breath came in great gulps. I licked his nipples and tongued under his chin. Ghazi was calling out with ecstasy as Tom fucked him harder and harder.
“I want more and more, please,” he yelled, “Fuck me harder, haaaar...der, pleaa......se!”
His voice dropped to silence as his hips bucked and jets of come squirted up his belly as his own orgasm came.
Tom was panting heavily as his prick rammed in and out of Ghazi's now quite loose and well-lubricated hole. Then he gave a mighty roar and slammed himself against Ghazi as his buttocks spasmed with the intensity of his climax. His knees buckled and he withdrew quickly and two last squirts of spunk landed somewhere around Ghazi's navel. Tom was beat. He crawled over to me and I helped him onto the bed where he and Ghazi lay clutching each other and nuzzling each other's faces. I climbed on the bed behind Ghazi and lifted his left leg and pushed my ever-ready dong almost up to the hilt. We three lay there as I moved gradually back and forth to his mewing and moaning as Ghazi licked and kissed Tom. Almost imperceptibly I moved Ghazi over the top of Tom so he was straddling him with his buttocks in the air and his legs apart.. I was kneeling behind him and could then thrust my cock even deeper into him. Tom then moved down beneath him and took his prick into his mouth so that as I fucked him so Tom sucked him.
We kept this up for close on half an hour. As I felt myself getting nearer and nearer firing my load I slowed down and then quickened up again until at last I couldn't stop and pressed down deep into him and let go. My friction on his prostate must have then been sufficient for him to come spontaneously as Tom gagged and spluttered with the volume that gushed out into his mouth. My cock was liberally coated with all sorts of debris as I withdrew it and stumbling, made my way to the bathroom. On my return, three boys lay and spooned up against each other and fell asleep. We were awoken at five o'clock by the phone ringing. I staggered to the hall and answered it. It was Aunt Margaret. I was to turn the oven on at six o'clock sharp and make sure the white wine was in the fridge.
That evening Aunt Margaret did a huge dish of rack of lamb with couscous and all the trimmings. Three kilted, satiated and very hungry lads made her day by finishing the first helpings and demanding a second helping. Tom was very sorry he had to go down the road home as it left me in the arms of Ghazi for the night.
Ghazi was so thrilled at the happenings that afternoon he clung to me as soon as we got into bed and said it had been the happiest day of his life. He'd been fucked four times by two of his best friends, had shot a load spontaneously and had been sucked off twice as well, what more could he desire. Was I happy?
Of course I was happy. It had also been a tremendous experience for both Tom and me as well. And, we'd promised him that we wanted him to fuck us.
Ghazi fucked Tom on Monday afternoon while I watched and aided and abetted, and then I sucked Tom and Ghazi sucked me. That night I fucked Ghazi very slowly and, for us, very quietly as both Ghazi and I tended to become rather vocal in those last few moments before unloading our juices. On Tuesday afternoon Ghazi fucked me and Tom did the honours.
Ghazi had been a bit apprehensive on Monday and said he hoped he would do everything OK. Needless to say as soon as he began to lubricate Tom so his instincts took over and two roaring boys made sure it was a great success, and I shall never forget the look on Ghazi's face as he leaned over me filling me with his spunk that Tuesday afternoon at three o'clock. That night he slowly and gently fucked me again, and, after that, I lay impaled on his fully erect cock for nearly two hours until I somehow milked him for the third time that day.
I said to Ghazi that I was sorry I had accused him of shagging young Pete and I realised now what he had meant. He smiled at me.
“Flip, I'd forgive you anything, but as much as I like Pete... Someone told me an old Arab verse once.. `There is a boy across the river with a bottom like a peach. But I cannot swim...' He's not ready yet, but, perhaps, one day...”
I am certain the sex helped us with our revision. We were so attuned to each other as soon as one had a problem the others were so willing and so often able to help with an explanation or a reference studying became a joy not a chore. My only worry was whether my Maths was proceeding OK. But, I got up at six o'clock each morning and did two hours solid work on problems before waking Ghazi for breakfast. I also had my Rider's House friend at the other end of the telephone line and we spoke to each other almost every day. Again, we were able to give each other the necessary insights needed when a sticky proof or a knotty problem baffled either of us. So for the next week or so we all kept each other sane and, in Glenfinnan, sexually satisfied.
It was Aunt Margaret's birthday on Ash Wednesday, April the nineteenth, - we were very politic and did not enquire about her age - and the three of us invited her out for dinner in Fort William. She said that being escorted by three young men would either enhance or ruin her reputation, depending on which of her patients saw her. She insisted on being on Ghazi's arm as we entered the restaurant, which did turn a few heads. The diners then looked even harder as two well over six-footers, also in tartan, entered behind her. One of the diners was one of her patients and, realising it was an occasion, sent the wine waiter across with a complimentary bottle of champagne. A good time was had by all.
6E: Easter at Linnhe Castle: 2000
Ghazi and Tom were ready for me to drive them to Linnhe at half past nine on Maundy Thursday. Both Aunt Margaret and Tom's mum had told us to behave ourselves. What cheek! Both Tom and I had said it was Ghazi they had to tell to behave as we were certain he'd come back with half the Castle's silver. I got a real prod in the kidney region from him for saying that. Anyway, the pair of them kept up a moaning commentary on my driving from the comfort of the back seats of my car. I told them to keep their hands off each other and was rewarded by seeing in the driving mirror two kilts being lifted and two dongs being waved at me.
As usual we were met by the pack of dogs and then Paul and Clyde appeared. Clyde was in his usual ebullient mood and volunteered to show us our rooms. I think the main reason was to see Ghazi's response when he found he was bunking in with Pete the perpetual pearly passion potion producer. In fact, Pete was sitting on the bed reading a book when we all went in with Ghazi and his travelling bag. Pete looked up and blushed a bit. He looked most delectable.
“Hi, Pete,” said Clyde, “Your goddam room-mate appeareth!” He turned to us. “I have been helping Pete with his goddam Shakespeare and his Latin for the goddam exams next term and he is quite familiar with his goddam set books now as well.” Clyde looked at us sternly. “I hope you boys have brought some goddam work to do as I don't want any slacking and goddam failures amongst yo'all. Forti et fideli nihil difficile! Eh, Pete?” Pete blushed even more.
I'd heard his peroration to the Third Year exam fodder in the House the night before we broke up, which included some choice Latin quotations. It was as if any dereliction on the part of any examination candidate would reflect back on Clyde as Head Prefect of House. He kept everyone on the straight and narrow as far as work was concerned and I knew that our House was considered by the beaks to be 'academically sound'. Also, although he wasn't in the CCF, he inspected each member before they were allowed out for any important parade, even casting a critical eye over Sergeant-Major Paul Campbell himself.
Ghazi, of course, didn't know Pete was going to be at Linnhe again. I hadn't told him I'd seen his bags being loaded with Paul's. Actually, he was delighted because the pair of them got on well, even if Ghazi complained about sexual harassment. Tom and I left them and were shown our room next door to theirs. Clyde wanted to know if Ghazi had given us anything. Tom said about the rings, neither of us said about his cherry.
Clyde grinned. “I knew he'd bought them for yo'all, I was with him when he got them. My granddaddy had them engraved for him and he wants you two boys to come out to see us all when you've settled down.”
That would be most interesting. Perhaps next Easter, once we'd got into the swing of things at college. Ghazi's descriptions of the French ex-paras who ran the gym, two couples who were intensely jealous of each other in case anyone of them made a move on one of the others, were highly amusing. He said it was very 'Cage aux Folles' as a succession of aunts and uncles of one of them visited the straight part of the health resort and the other couple threatened all the time to 'out' the poor lad. Ghazi said he got on well with all of them and, when they heard of the German's move on him, had said they could easily remove the Hun's balls for Ghazi to hang on his bedroom wall like they use to when..... The next bit was a bit gruesome and even Ghazi shuddered when he told me. I wondered if Paul and Fergie might end up in the paras removing terrorists' ball sacs to maker delicate leather purses from?
We pottered about for the rest of the day. Fergie turned up quite late in the afternoon and was bunking in with Paul. One bit of news was that Little Dick wouldn't be arriving until Saturday and was being coming with Nelson Chombe who was driving him up. Apparently, Little Dick's grandfather, the lord, had died the previous week so Little Dick was no longer just Honourable, but had a courtesy title now.
As usual, the meal in the evening was superb. Good plain Scottish cooking but just the thing for hungry lads. After a couple of drams and plenty of chat we all went off to bed. I admonished Ghazi to keep the noise down as we were in the next room and didn't want to hear either he or Pete squealing all night long. Tom remarked that Ghazi had a Mona Lisa look on his face when he said good night. Tom can be a bit enigmatic himself at times.
I was the one to do the squealing that night. Tom wasn't rough, just exuberant and energetic. I was pawed, pummelled, pinched, prodded and finally, penetrated by a perfect prong, my legs over his shoulders with him slowly but forcefully inserting and extracting his almost seven inches of well-lubricated priceless prick for ages and ages. I was in my seventh heaven, one heaven for each glorious inch! As he massaged my prostate with each stroke and we hugged each other close, tonguing and licking, I shot my first load of the evening. I shot two more loads before Tom decided his three deposits of warm spunk within me were a sufficiency for that night. He finally withdrew, kissed me fervently and disappeared off to the bathroom to clean up.
I fell asleep before he returned, I was satiated and so content, and the next thing I knew was a familiar voice whispering in my ear. Strange, it was Ghazi. The bedside light was then switched on.
“Flip, move over, let me in.”
A familiar body inserted itself under the bedclothes and familiar arms clutched me.
“What the hell have you been doing. You stink like a polecat in full heat!”
I sniffed him.
“Speak for yourself, you pong like a randy goat. Anyway, why are you here?” I recollected the bedding arrangements. “What have you done with Pete?”
The whispered conversation was enough to rouse Tom a bit.
“Whassup?” he grunted, “Who the fuck's blathering this time in the morning? And why the hell is that bloody light on?”
“Morning, Tom,” said Ghazi, more brightly than I felt was necessary, “I've come to see you both and have a chat. It's gone six o'clock anyway.”
“Oh, fuck off. You and ginger nuts here can go somewhere else and gossip. You woke me up and I was having such a lovely dream.......”
Ginger nuts, indeed!! I rolled over onto Tom and held him down while I shut his mouth with mine and reached down and grabbed his hefty bollocks. I leaned up a bit.
“Wake up, you black-haired monstrosity! You ungrateful beast. Don't you dare call me ginger - I'm auburn.”
I gave his balls a squeeze - a gentle squeeze because I loved him so - to emphasize my point.
One of Ghazi's giggles interrupted my chastisement of Tom.
“Shut up you two,” he said, moving over to us and putting his arms round both of us. “Just quieten down and listen. Come on Tom, wake up properly and let me in the middle.”
I rolled off Tom the other side of him. Ever obedient he moved away and Ghazi slid in between us. I realised he was also in the buff.
“Well, what do you want, you un-Scots twat?” Tom said, putting his arms round Ghazi and giving him a mighty kiss. “God, you smell like a well-used twat, too! What have you been doing to that poor boy?”
Ghazi giggled again and pecked Tom on the nose.
“Nothing you wouldn't want to do. But, shut up and listen.”
He wriggled around and put one arm under each of our necks. He stroked my face - I don't know if he did the same to Tom.
“That boy is a sex-bomb! I thought I would wear the bastard out first by holding him down and jacking him off twice immediately without stopping. Gosh, didn't he squirm. I stopped him hollering by fixing my mouth over his. I bet I've got scratches down my back where he tried to push me off him. Anyway as soon as he'd come the second time I sat on his chest and he sucked me off while he was gasping and crying.”
I turned on my side towards him. I was rather angry with what he'd said. “You made him cry? You fucking raped the poor child!”
Ghazi put a reassuring hand on my arm.
“No, not that sort of crying. He was gasping how marvellous it had been and he wanted it again and he was getting louder so I stopped that the only way I knew would silence him.”
He giggled again.
“Poor bugger nearly choked, 'cause I had a full load ready for him! Anyway, listen. That kept him quiet for a few minutes and we lay and cuddled and then he started to talk.” He snorted, “He's besotted with you two. He thinks Tom's the best thing since sliced bread. He wanted to know if Tom liked him. He told me all about you driving the car when you two took him home and how you asked him all sorts of questions. And then how his mother said what a nice young man you were and he could just try to be as nice. Oh, he thinks you're marvellous and what he'd give to have a brother or a friend like you...”
He giggled again.
“...And as for you, Flip, you're his big red-haired Cookie Monster. He worships you and says all the kids in the House want you or Paul, who's another hero. That Jamie was ever so jealous when he told him he was staying here and you would be here as well. He says he thinks Jamie wanks off thinking about you because he's heard him muttering, 'Please, Flip', in bed. Oh, and there's some other kid in the dorm who has a photo of you in his locker in your rugger kit because he found it one day when he was looking for a pair of socks he thought the kid had borrowed. Anyway, while he was telling me all this he kept clutching me and rubbing his sticky prick up and down me like one of those bloody dogs and asking what it was like to be your friend. He got so worked up he shot another load just doing that.”
Ghazi paused.
“I'm worried about the lad. He's got the serious hots for both of you - and that Jamie. He says he really loves Jamie and wants him to love him too and what should he do to find out if Jamie loves him. He's a real mixed-up kid. He's dying for you two to take him to bed and he wants Jamie even more badly. Give me a clue, what can I tell him?”
“And I suppose he doesn't think of you at all?” asked Tom.
“I haven't told you that bit yet. He wanted to know if Jamie wouldn't have him, would I!”
“That hairy-chested little urchin needs a good talking-to,” said Tom. “He could cause a lot of people a lot of trouble if he's not careful. He is sixteen and I know that law is being changed soon but I think we could be seen to be in positions of some authority or care over him. You've got to be careful, Jazz. I know you've only one more term at school but if he and Jamie don't hit it off and he starts pestering you, or auburn-nuts here, he might start blabbing elsewhere. And what about his tales about the others? Fuck me, some child wanking off thinking of this hero of the First XV, eh! You been flashing your tassel at him? And how did that other kid get your photo, glamour-boy?”
He prodded me and gave a low laugh. I'd been listening to all this quietly. I liked Pete very much. He was very good-looking and I would have him in bed in a trice. He was very much a younger version of Tom, with a hairy chest already according to Ghazi! Over the past few weeks I 'd noticed Tom was beginning to sprout some wayward black hairs along the centre of his chest. So far I was hairless there. Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh....
“Oh, there's a photo club at school,” I said in explanation. “They had a competition last term for the best sporty photo and a kid won it with a shot of the scrums steaming during that match on that bitterly cold day I told you about. There were several kids taking photos that day and I know there was one of me drop kicking the ball after a scrum.”
Ghazi giggled again. “That was the one the kid had I would guess from Pete's description. Said he'd paid a pound for it.”
Tom took up the question of what to do again.
“I think either I or Flip should talk to him. Perhaps together. I know Flip has talked to him at school but he seems to be all pent up with no sight of release for the poor lad. I know how much I miss Flip during the term and it's only the thought of seeing him again which has kept me going. I know I need sex all the time and Flip laughs about what he calls my prowess but I can understand how this kid feels going through such a hyperactive stage and not getting answers to all his feelings and questions.”
He leaned across Ghazi and kissed my cheek.
“What do you think?”
I knew what it was like when my hormones were first in overdrive. Again, only my loving friendships with Michael, then Tom and Ghazi kept me on the straight and narrow. I wondered if had I still been at home if I would have craved companionship so much I would have frequented some of the hinted at local sites where lonely boys and men found some sort of comfort. Michael had said one day how he'd been taken short and had gone into a public loo and, while crapping, a cock had appeared through a hole. He'd ignored it being more frightened than curious and waited ages until he heard retreating footsteps before emerging and running home as fast as possible.
My thoughts were interrupted by the bedroom door being opened quietly and a head appearing round it. It was Pete. I beckoned to him and he came in towards the bed rather hesitantly. Like us he was in the nude, his well-formed cock drooping. He started to explain.
“I woke up and Ghazi wasn't there. I waited 'cause I thought he was in the lav but when he didn't come back I went and had a look to see if he was OK and he wasn't there, then I saw the light under the door here....”
I held the bedclothes up.
“Get in here. We'll shift up.” He hesitated a moment. “Come on, we're not going to rape you. We want to talk to you.”
I made him clamber over me so he lay between me and Ghazi. Ghazi and Tom swopped places. I put my arm over his chest and hugged him. He felt warm and muscly, just as I remembered my Tom at that age.
“Look Pete,” I said, “Ghazi's told us some of the things you've told him. Now you tell us what you're worried about and we'll try to help.”
I stroked his pecs and felt the roughness of his patch of newly grown chest hair. If I wasn't careful I would be getting a very serious hardon very soon.
Pete then unburdened himself as Tom now also put an arm round him and hugged him. His body relaxed as he told us the usual tale of youthful sexual repression and the thoughts he had for other boys and I knew exactly his feelings and so did Tom. When he'd finished I stroked his cheek.
“Look, Pete, what you've told us is exactly what has happened to us, but we've been lucky. Tom and I were able to tell each other how much we loved each other a long time ago now, even before we were your age. We've been faithful to each other and I am telling you in confidence that we've all had sex of some sort with others, but Tom and I know we are made for each other. Ghazi we both see as our brother and we love him like a brother, we've had sex with him and he with us, just like you and he has too. Like you, none of us have real brothers. Paul's lucky. He learned a lot from Roddy and Roddy from his elder brother Walter. So it goes on with brothers. We've had to learn things from friends and you have to accept some people want more than just being a friend.”
I paused and Tom took over.
“You say you love this Jamie but you don't know if he loves you. If he does he'll tell you all in good time. Be kind and gentle with him. From what Flip has told me about him he seems very nice and he's bright, like you. But, don't push him. He might be a bit hesitant to say something to you. You wait, see if he breaks the ice first. If he's chosen you over someone else to room with next year then that's a step. He hasn't bullied you into tossing him off, has he?”
Pete had been listening very intently to what we'd been saying and then whispered, “No. He always asks if I want to and I always do. He's been ever so kind since that bastard Reid shopped us. He's really a stronger person than me even if some of the others think he's a bit soft 'cause he's blond and curly.”
“Was curly,” I said. “The pair of you had pretty sharp haircuts before that trial. I bet his mum wondered why.”
Pete grinned. “My mum did too when she saw me but I like mine short. He said his mum cried when she saw him and said she was going to write to Mr McCrae but Jamie told her it was the fashion and anyway it was better for the CCF.”
Having this lithe young creature next to me was making my hormones run. If he stayed much longer...... I couldn't help it but I felt round him and was reminded of Ghazi's Arabic verse... He certainly had a bottom like a peach! My dick began to stiffen. Luckily Tom was in full flow.
“Now, Pete,” he continued, “You've got important exams coming up next term. If things get a bit difficult use those as an excuse and you can always confide in Flip. D'you understand?”
Pete nodded and I gave his rump a reassuring pat.
“Now, you're not to say anything about this morning. I suggest we all lie here for a few minutes and that will give you something to think about until you sort young Jamie out.”
Ghazi giggled. “Come on you two, give him a bundle!”
He launched himself over Tom and arranged himself over Pete who was lying on his side now facing Tom. I turned on my side so my now stiff cock was resting in the crack of his arse and moved my right hand round to his front and gripped his also erect, thick dong. He wriggled his butt and I responded by wedging my cock more firmly in his virgin territory. Tom put his arm round Ghazi and I heard Pete kiss Tom and an instructional murmur from him.
“No, Pete, just hold it!”
We lay quite still for several minutes. Poor Pete, his rod was pulsing in my grip. I knew he wanted more. I wanted more and I knew both Ghazi and Tom, given one hint, would have set off a chain reaction. But no, Ghazi was the first to move.
“Come on Pete,” he said, “We'd better get back to our own bed before nosey Clyde gets up and starts prowling. Don't forget you've still got that Latin translation to do for him as well.”
Slowly we extricated ourselves. Both Tom and I gave Pete a last hug and I noticed he'd got a little string of clear fluid hanging from his piss slit as he turned to give us a last look. As soon as he and Ghazi had left our room and shut the door Tom and I kissed deeply, our hands immediately on each other's cocks, and slowly and lovingly we jacked each other off until two morning streams of our mancream spurted out and sealed our love for each other once more.
We didn't discuss the early morning's events until much later in the day. Poor Pete must have been distracted by all that had happened as I heard Clyde in the library giving him a roasting over a bit of sloppy translation.
“Nunc sunt crura pilis et sunt tibi pectora saetis horrida, sed mens est, Petre, vulsa tibi! Indiligens!! Nates pilosa, Petrus, non potes asses venditare!!!”
At least, that's what he said when I asked him afterwards. I knew no Latin and Pete, who Clyde said was very good, looked suitably abashed and I would have given him more than a penny for his hairy nates. Clyde, according to Paul, was a formidable Latin and Greek scholar and would have done very well if he'd opted to go to university.
In fact, both Tom and I cornered Clyde a bit later, when Hamed and the others had gone off with Mr Campbell trying out his many shotguns, and told him what had happened. He said he'd been keeping an eye on Pete and Jamie in the House and he would appreciate it if I could talk to Jamie sometime just to sound him out. Nothing more. He grinned when I asked him for the translation which I thought was very apt. [As it is, you have hairy legs and your chest is like a rug, but your mind, young Pete, is plucked smooth. Sheer negligence! Huh, Peter, you couldn't even sell your hairy arse for a penny!]
Saturday came and so did Little Dick and Nelson. I didn't really know Nelson but we all got on well after the initial re-introductions. Little Dick was even more subdued than usual. He was now Lord Fordham and by Sunday morning when he'd recovered a bit more of his composure we were bowing and scraping and calling him 'milord' which in his uncomplicated, simple way he really enjoyed.
Nelson was very protective of him and said he'd been very upset as he'd idolised his granddad and wanted to get back to stay with his grandma as soon as Easter was over. Nelson's bit of news was that he's passed his Fellowship exam for organ playing and was enjoying being at college.
6F: The Surprise
On Sunday morning Charles Parsons, Hamed and Ghazi's uncle's secretary, appeared and after lunch said he had an announcement to make. I noticed Clyde had gone out of the room and came back carrying a number of small boxes.
Charles said that he had a presentation to make on behalf of the boys' uncle. He asked the seven of us to stand . We stood and looked and wondered but both Ghazi and Hamed had enigmatic looks on their faces and Clyde had a poker-face as well.
Charles opened up a sheet of paper and started to read, “On behalf of His Highness Sheikh....”
He looked at Hamed who shook his head.
“On behalf of Hamed and Ghazi's uncle,” he continued, “Who has been so impressed by the friendship shown to their Highnesses Hamed bin...” He stopped again as both Hamed and Ghazi shook their heads, then carried on. “...Hamed and Ghazi throughout their school careers at Kinloch School, that he wishes this to be commemorated by the presentation of a watch to each of the group who have supported and helped them. A small token of his regard.”
He turned to Clyde who gave him the boxes which he handed out to each of the seven of us, including Hamed and Ghazi. When I opened mine inside was a very fine, stainless steel, chronometer wristwatch. I turned it over and on the back was engraved a ring of initials, 'Pp F G H C R Pl' with two hands clasped in the centre. We were all dumbstruck. I looked at Hamed and Ghazi and they were smiling. I was the first to leap on them and hug both of them, followed quickly by the other four.
Then came the explanations. Their uncle was so impressed with what Hamed had told him last summer he really wanted us all to have very expensive gold watches but the boys and Clyde's granddaddy had dissuaded him and suggested the more practical ones we had been presented with. We all protested it was all far too much but Hamed said we had helped him and Ghazi so much it was the least the family could do. Ghazi turned and hugged Hamed and said he was proud to have us all as his friends.
Pete, Tom and Nelson weren't left out either, each were given a substantial book token which I know pleased Tom as he had expressed some concern over the cost of some of the books we would require at medical school.
The rest of the weekend passed so quickly it was soon Tuesday morning and our departure. I'd offered to take Pete back home so Tom drove again and I and Pete sat in the back as we'd done on the previous journey. He was quite voluble now, much more relaxed and sex, relationships and worries weren't mentioned. His mother was pleased to see us when we arrived and we had lunch there again. My last words to him were that we would talk whenever he wanted once we were back at school...
6G: My last term at Kinloch School
The first few weeks of term were hectic. The work Tom, Ghazi and I had done over the Easter vac paid off. I felt really confident that I'd done more than my best. When I compared results in the Pure Maths exam with the lad from Rider's I found we'd got roughly the same solutions to the problems we'd done in common. So, after that the term began to wind down but we were still kept busy.
I helped both Pete and Jamie before their Maths exams. Pete seemed a lot more relaxed and Jamie seemed a very nice lad. I twitted him about his haircut and he blushed and said he liked it that way now.
Sports Day came and I won the shot putt against the two big lads who were the prop forwards in the first XV and beat the school record handsomely. The years of weight training certainly paid off. The two lads who had joined in the training sessions with Ghazi and me asked if they could have the equipment handed down to them and Jamie and Pete asked if they could use it as well, so that tradition would carry on.
Ghazi and I slept together most nights and he confessed to me towards the end of the term that he was going to miss me so much when he went down to London after the Summer holidays. Just before the end of term I came across Jamie sitting by himself on the edge of the playing field and after chatting for a while I asked him outright what he thought of Pete. He was a bit startled and then he looked at me and said three words, “I love him”. I said he was to tell him that as soon as he could.
I wouldn't say the end of term was a tearful occasion but it was a wrench to say goodbye to so many good friends. Mr McCrae was almost voluble when he shook hands as I said goodbye to him and Mrs McCrae. He said I was to keep in touch and to come back any time to see him. “A good move on your part to break a couple of noses, eh? Watch you don't break any hearts. You and Tom have a good life!”
How the hell did he know about Tom? Schoolmasters!!
So, Ghazi and Clyde were off to France, to be followed by Hamed after his final CCF summer camp. Little Dick, milord, to a farm in Suffolk for experience and Paul and Fergie to while away a few weeks after camp before beginning a degree course in London before Officer Training at the Royal Military Academy. So seven friends went their ways.
6H: Summer 2000
I didn't want to do anything else but spend the summer in Scotland relaxing before my hoped-for university career. Aunt Margaret was going off for three weeks with a friend to the Dolomites and wanted to know if I wanted to go anywhere myself as she would gladly pay. I refused and said I would stay and look after the bungalow and wait for the exam results. However, that summer was to produce a few surprises.
The first was during the day I arrived back at Aunt Margaret's. It was a phone call from Pete's mum. Would Tom and I like to go for lunch the next Monday? No other explanation. We agreed, much intrigued.
We went and had a superb lunch and then the eye-opener. She and her husband had arranged to go on a cruise and Pete was refusing to go. As Tom and I seemed to be his mentors and she trusted us, would we look after him for a fortnight after his CCF camp? She had already asked Aunt Margaret if that was possible and she had agreed.
More explanations were forthcoming. She had finally asked Pete at half-term if he was gay and he'd said he was. She had been led finally to this not only by the mag she'd found but also by the series of drawings she'd also discovered in his bedroom at the beginning of last term. She took us up and there were about a dozen, now displayed on the walls. I didn't know before but Pete was a talented young artist and had depicted Tom, me, Jamie and several others in various poses. Luckily those of Tom and me were no more than torsos but a couple of Jamie and another lad in his class were full-frontal, detailed images and very well drawn. Pete had told her he wanted to go to Art School and, judging by the quality of the drawings, both Tom and I said we thought he should. She said she and her husband had already agreed.
So that was arranged. Tom and I would pick him up at the school and he would stay with Aunt Margaret and me until his parents returned. It was rather embarrassing as Mrs Douglas then gave us fifty pounds each so we wouldn't be out of pocket - for petrol, she said.
Tom was particularly quiet on the way back. He finally opened up as we left on the road out of Fort William.
“Oh God, Flip! Can we keep our hands off him?”
I said it was rather whether he could keep his hands off us. Anyway, he was to share my bed!
We both turned up at the main school drive, dressed as usual in our kilts, when the lads returned from Summer Camp. Mr McCrae was there with the dogs and seemed to know why we'd turned up as he never asked why we were there. Staff Sergeants Hamed and Fergie and Sergeant Major Paul were surprised to see us and I explained what had happened while Tom was supposed to organise the transfer of Pete's belongings to the boot of my car. Pete was radiant and in his uniform - with sergeant's stripes! Young Jamie was as well and I congratulated him and the arch-fiend Sergeant Reid also on their promotion. Dolly stood with a smirk on his face next to Reid, sporting his newly acquired corporal's stripes. From the smirk I knew he and Reid had been cavorting together, celebrating their promotion no doubt. From the corner of my eye I could see that Tom and Mr McCrae were deep in conversation.
There was much jocularity as all the lads were as filthy as hell as having done a commando assault course the day before they had then discovered no water was available to wash or shower. Pete was particularly sweaty and I drove with Tom next to me and Pete in solitary splendour in the back of car ponging to high heaven.
On arriving at the bungalow we told him to get into the bathroom straight away to shower and deodorize himself before anything else. I unpacked his bags and shoved an interminable amount of dirty clothing into the washing machine.
When he'd finished cleaning himself up he looked most presentable. His mother had given us spare clothes to bring back for him but he insisted he would be like us and just wear a shirt and kilt. Over a cup of tea and a couple of Tom's mother's scones he said that Jamie had at last told him of his love. We were so pleased we both hugged him and the tears ran down his face. We both kissed him and said we hoped he'd be as happy as us.
I managed to get Tom on his own for a few minutes and asked him what he was talking to Mr McCrae about. He grinned and said it was obviously common knowledge that we were an item as he had told Tom to take good care of me and wished us both well.
Poor Tom. He had to go home that evening, after supper with us and Aunt Margaret, to his lonely bed. Pete and I hugged and caressed each other as soon as we got into bed and then slowly, lovingly, brought each other to massive orgasms spraying each other with copious amounts of boycream and mancream.
A little later as we lay just savouring each other's presence I asked Pete if he and Jamie had done anything else. He said they hadn't so I gave him his first experience of being sucked and of sucking another. He hugged me so tightly after we'd both come I could hardly breath. We tongue-fucked for ages after that and although he had only just come for a second time his young prick was soon hard again. I whispered that he was just to lie still and I wanked him again, very slowly, waiting each time I sensed he was getting near and kept him on the verge for about half an hour until he whispered very urgently, “Please finish me!” His orgasm was colossal and after that he lay cuddled in my arms and went to sleep almost purring with contentment.
In the morning I left him peacefully sleeping while I showered and dressed and got my breakfast. Aunt Margaret asked how he was and I said he was very tired, the CCF camp must have worn him out! A little later I took him in a plate of porage and a mug of tea and he looked so lovely lying there asleep I nibbled his ear until he was awake. He turned his head and kissed me and said the night before had been the most wonderful he had ever known.
Later in the morning when Tom came round to see us Pete was in the shower. Tom was curious about what had happened, but, from the smile on my face I didn't have much to explain. Anyway, he didn't have to wait long to find out more as that afternoon, a particularly wet and blustery one, we three retired to my bed and we talked, and wanked each other, and sucked each other until young Pete had shed three loads to the two each for us and he said that it had been an afternoon to remember as well. That night I will remember well too as Pete gave me the most delicate and intense release of my spunk I'd had for a long time.
The next few days gave us the opportunity to really talk to Pete about his emotions and his sexuality. He said that he and Jamie had talked about their feelings for each other and Jamie had confessed he had wanted to tell Pete about how he felt at least a year before. Pete also had asked him how he felt about others and had got him to admit he did think of me sometimes at night when he tossed himself off. I wasn't going to get big-headed about it, though, as, apparently, he had a string of wank-heroes who he used as fuel for his ardour. As well as me there were also Paul, Hamed and Ghazi as well as others he'd watched and lusted after in other Houses.
During Pete's second week with us he had a letter one morning from, of all people, Adolphus Meinherzen. In the letter was a printout of a digital photo of, guess who, tight-arse Reid being sucked off by the blond kid who'd caused trouble in the House at the beginning of the year. No wonder Dolly was smirking when we saw him as Pete told us that Dolly and Angus had shared a tent as well and the kid was quite willing to act as their batman - and Angus's help-meet in times of sexual need. So, Dolly had Reid now right under his thumb, if not on his cock whenever he wanted sweet relief, as Angus had succumbed to Dolly's charms as well. Actually, I made Pete destroy the printout just in case it was found by anyone.
At the end of his stay we took him back home to a very grateful Mrs Douglas. After the awful weather of the first couple of days we'd managed to spend a good bit of time up on the hills and he'd got quite a tan and looked most healthy and happy. While he and Tom were taking his bags up to his room I told his mother she mustn't worry about him as he had come to terms with how he felt and that he was determined to go to Art School and do well. I said we would keep in touch with him and if she ever felt worried about him just to contact us. She said she'd told her husband while they were away and he wasn't angry about it, he loved his boy and wanted the best for him whatever happened.
Certainly Ghazi was right about Pete's stamina and output.. He was just like the younger Tom, always ready for action and needing to release his tensions several times a day. Tom and he got on very well as Tom was very gentle with him, just like a loving older brother. Pete obviously doted on Tom and asked his advice on all manner of things and then discussed everything again with me in bed at night. He got on well with Aunt Margaret, too, and acted as general clearer-up and washer-up all the time. Just before we got into the car to take him back I was in the bedroom with him. He put his arms round me and hugged me and say he couldn't thank Tom and me enough and he loved us both. We loved him too.
A few days after Pete went home Aunt Margaret set off on her holiday jaunt. The second surprise came two days after she had gone. There was a phone call in the evening and it was Darryll! He had bought himself a motor-bike the year before and he and Michael were doing a general tour of the North of England and up into Scotland. Could they come and spend a couple of days with me? Of course they could! I hadn't seen either since leaving my old home and coming to Scotland, although Michael and I had corresponded regularly. In fact, they would be arriving the next afternoon.
It was a hot afternoon and I, just in singlet and kilt, was sitting alone, drowsing, in the back garden as Tom had borrowed my car to go to Fort William on an errand for his mother. Suddenly I was roused by the roar of the bike as it came up the lane to the front of the bungalow. I hurried out and there were the two figures, crash-helmeted, with black leather jackets and jeans, astride the bike. I knew the front one must be Darryll and it was as he took off his helmet, dropped it down, and rushed over me. He stopped about two yards from me and let out a roar.
“God, Flip!” he shouted, “You look like the bloody advert on Scott's Porage Oats packets!!”
I suppose I did. The young muscled Scot in singlet and kilt putting the shot was just like me! I was a shot-putter anyway and here I was dressed just like the picture, even with the long red socks.
He flung out his arms and hugged me tight.
“Oh, Flip, it's so good to see you after so long.”
Our hug was terminated by me spying over his shoulder the other figure getting off the bike. I was quite unprepared for the young ox that stood there. He reached up and took off his helmet. It was Michael. A Michael so developed it was quite, quite incredible. He was just on six foot but, Oh, so powerfully built. When he came over and took Darryll's place and hugged me too he crushed the breath out of me.
“Oh Flip,” he said, “I've thought of you every day, wondering how you were. Look at you, you look marvellous.”
I was overwhelmed, two of my best friends, so long missed and now they were here. I ushered them indoors into the kitchen and put the kettle on.
“God, I'm so hot,” said Darryll, “Do'ya think I could have a shower?”
I said of course, both of them could and I was mesmerised at that moment as Michael was taking off his leather jacket. He had a tee shirt underneath and if I thought I had muscles he had muscles on muscles. Darryll caught me staring at him and chuckled.
“Well, what do you think of your nerdy friend, the old seven-stone weakling, eh?”
Michael produced a great shit-eating grin.
“I've grown a bit since we were fourteen, eh, Flip?”
I couldn't have agreed more. The old weedy youth was now a powerful young beast. Darryll was no mean thing either. Sex between those two would be something to experience!
After downing a couple of cups of tea and about four scones each I showed them the bathroom and sat on the loo seat as they stripped off ready to shower. Darryll's cock swung just as I remembered it from four years previously. Young Michael's cock was now a formidable length even when flaccid. I judged if it expanded anything like mine did he would certainly beat me on both length and girth. He saw me giving him the once over and grinned.
“I've grown a bit more there as well, Flip!”
After they'd showered and dressed in just shorts we went into the back garden and caught up on all the news. Michael had been working-out relentlessly at the gym and had also made the Junior side at the Rugby Club and had been keeping an eye on my brother Stuart who was also attending the gym and playing rugger. He and Darryll, like Tom and me, had also made a commitment to each other and he was moving in with Darryll in Sheffield where he was starting his degree course in September - exams permitting - as Darryll had now finished his degree course and had a job with a firm of structural engineers. Of course, all my pals at the Rugby Club were also growing up and dispersing but the Williams brothers were still the coaches for the Junior sides. So the chat went on until with a toot on the horn Tom arrived back.
The sight of a second large young Scot, in shirt and kilt, was too much for the lads, they just stared goggle-eyed when he marched round the side of the bungalow. They were introduced and Tom and they got on like a house on fire. I'd instructed Tom to get the biggest pizzas he could while in Fort William and we went into the kitchen where I heated them up for our supper. Tom also produced some bottles of beer and we sat and talked and talked for hours.
They were so pleased about our commitment and we showed them the two boxes with the rings which Ghazi had given us for when we made our vows. I said we'd decided to do that at Christmas and I wanted as many of our friends to be there. They promised they would be there and I had a sneaking suspicion it might be a double ceremony.
That night they insisted on sleeping on the floor in my room. Not for long though. My double bed wasn't really made for three large lads like us but, after a few minutes silence, the first from the time they'd arrived, two huge figures loomed over me and joined me, one on either side. It wasn't long then before Darryll's tongue and lips were working on my rod and I was finding out the dimensions of Michael's meaty tool. Actually, it didn't lengthen much, he was no longer than me, but the circumference of his shaft stretched my mouth completely. And, the amount of the load he produced also beat my usually copious outpouring. I managed to catch all of it without choking or gagging and remembered those first wonderful times went we'd pleasured each other in that way.
Shortly after I had made Michael come I fired my wad which Darryll also expertly retained in its entirety. It was then my turn to show my love for Darryll and, for the first time, sucked his cock, again remembering that wonderful time when I was just fourteen and he'd given me such pleasure.
Once more that night we made the rounds and then in one enormous heap snored the night away.
The next morning they wanted to experience how we spent our days so Tom and I took them on a trek down Loch Sheil and up Beinn Odhar Bheag and wore the buggers out clambering up the tussocky slopes. That evening the four of us celebrated the day with Tom being introduced to two new proud cocks and, if he hadn't got a home to go to, would have willingly stayed the night!
What was interesting was that Michael and Darryll had not ventured further than either oral or manual stimulation. Neither of them seemed at all interested in taking things further. They were intrigued about how Tom and I had first fucked and how we had taken Ghazi's virginity at his request. I could see Darryll's point when he said he was quite satisfied with what they did as I wouldn't have liked Michael's fiercesomely thick shaft attempting to enter me without lots and lots of preparation.
So, they stayed for four days and Tom and I took them to various beautiful places spending one day by the sea near Glennancross. On the last day Michael did tell me there was some trouble between my mother and the Creep but he wasn't sure what it was. Stuart was obviously upset but wouldn't be drawn when asked. Michael said his father had looked very worried the previous weekend and I was left wondering.
Time passed and the date for the exam results arrived. Both Tom and I managed to get top grades in all subjects - our places at medical school were assured. There were phone calls to and from all over place. Everyone seemed to be most satisfied with their results. Aunt Margaret and Tom's parents celebrated by taking us both to that good restaurant in Fort William. A good time was had by all!
One long phone call was from France, mainly from Ghazi though the other two were allowed a word or two. In the case of Clyde, more than a word or two, he was most voluble and said all three would be in 'Edinboro' for Christmas. Ghazi said he was missing me and Tom but the young French lad had been there again with his mother for a month and he was going to spend the next fortnight in Toulouse with him before leaving for London. From the hints he gave I surmised the lad's peach had now become Ghazi's property as he had learned to swim the river!
During the next week I had a letter from Little Dick from the farm where he was working. He congratulated me on my results in a short carefully written letter. He enclosed a photo. A grinning Little Dick, clad in only a disreputable pair of cut-off denim shorts and work boots, looking lean and very healthy, was holding a rope. Attached to the rope was a huge bull looking straight at the camera with Little Dick stroking his nose. The bull had the most massive pair of bollocks I had ever seen. On the back in Little Dick's so neat writing was the legend: 'This is Philip of Macedon. He is a Red Poll. I call him Flip.' Cheeky bugger - I only wished I had balls that size to keep up with Tom's incessant demands on my spunk production!
The third surprise - more a bombshell - was an urgent phone call from my mother to my aunt. She and Ray the Creep had split up. I managed to discern that she had discovered from a solicitor in the next town that Ray the Creep had been enquiring if it was possible to break the trust which held the money for Stuart and myself. Although all client information is confidential the solicitor was so worried as he knew mum very well that he had contacted her 'without prejudice'. Apparently there was a furious row and Ray the Creep had been booted out. Good riddance to bad rubbish. I felt vindicated for all my hatred of him. But that left poor Stuart.
Mum was sending him up to stay with Aunt Margaret for the rest of the holiday with a view for him to stay and to go to school up here. Phone calls were made and a place was found for him at Tom's old school. So, one late August morning I and Tom drove to Fort William station to meet my brother.
I hadn't seen him for four years. He'd sent a few snaps of himself plus the usual school photo where he was all washed and brushed, but I had no real idea what he was like. Mum was going off for a break with a friend from the office to get away from things so my little brother was landing on the doorstep.
The train drew in almost on time. Tom had stayed with the car. My little brother got off the train but he wasn't my 'little' brother, he was five foot ten, just as I was at the age of fourteen and three-quarters. I couldn't mistake him. I looked at him in the mirror every morning. We were so alike. His hair had got more my colour now than when I remembered him. He had the same blue eyes and the smile on his face when he saw me was so wonderful. He dropped his bags as I rushed up to him and we hugged each other in greeting. My brother was home with me!
Of course, all he knew about Tom was that he was a great friend and we were going off to medical school together. Revelations would have to come later. Actually, he took one look at Tom and I knew they would also be friends for life. Tom had another young brother to go with Pete!
Aunt Margaret fussed round him and said to me that he was so like I was at that age - something I had to agreed with, he was a mirror image of me. Naturally he wanted to know if Tom and I wore our kilts all the time. We said we did as much as possible. I had been wearing my father's kilt for the past two years so I gave Stuart the kilt I'd been given by Mr Ferguson. He laughed when I made him take his underpants off after he'd buckled the kilt round himself. That evening at supper time we three boys were all formally attired and Tom's father and mother came across as well to eat with us, with Sgt McLaren also in his kilt. In fact, he had some very good news. He was being promoted to Inspector but, unfortunately, he and Tom's mum would have to leave the village.
Stuart had insisted he wanted to share my room and so the double-bed. I was so used to just stripping off and getting into bed in the raw with whoever was in the room I had forgotten that the last time I'd had Stuart in bed with me was that time his room was being decorated.
I saw Stuart note that I was naked as I slipped under the duvet. He had put his pyjamas on the pillow but these were discarded and pushed onto the floor as he got into bed. We turned to each other and continued the exchange of gossip and chat which had not diminished all day. I was aware that Stuart was edging towards me. There was a moment of silence.
“Flip,” he said, “You know that time at home when I had to share with you?”
“Um,” was my reply.
“You know you had that itch?” he paused a moment, “I have that itch every day!” He burst into a giggle that was so reminiscent of Ghazi. He put his arms out and round me and pressed himself against me. His shaft was rigid and pressed into me. “Do you know how to cure it?”
That night we cured each other's itches twice each. The second time after I'd told him how I'd healed Tom's poor skinned dong and showed him the cure. It was the first time he had been sucked. And after he'd shot his sweet tasting load into my mouth he insisted on doing the same to me. He wasn't at all worried about tasting and swallowing my spunk and said that he and Kenny, his computer nerd friend, wanked each other off every time they met up at his house but they hadn't done that..., yet.
The next few days were quite idyllic. We took Stuart around, introducing him to all the crofters and the villagers we had come to know during the past four years. We tramped the hills and we three lay and talked and wanked and sucked during the long afternoons in the hills. After asking Tom what we should do I told Stuart one afternoon of our commitment to each other. His eyes sparkled.
“You didn't have to tell me,” he said, smiling and holding out his hands to us, “I guessed within a day and you must be a real daft pair if you think Aunt Margaret and Tom's mum and dad don't know either.” He laughed. “I suppose I'm the one who'll have to carry on the Menzies dynasty now!”
So my little un-gay brother accepted his big gay brother and his partner. I made certain that night my little brother had the most intense pleasurable feelings I could give him. He might be straight but he took pleasure from those things that only boys can know and give.
The end of the holidays came. Tom and I were packed and ready to go and start our new careers as university students. The night before our departure I sat down and wrote several letters. To Little Dick, with a photo of Tom, Stuart and me against a backdrop of a favourite mountain, to Ghazi in London, to Hamed and Clyde in France, to Dr Williams and to Mr McCrae thanking them for all they had done for me, and a final one which started 'Dear Mum'......