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    Rigby Taylor
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.

Mortaumal - 7. Punishment, Theories & a Performance

Mort backed out of the office in horror. Todd had been right. They’d not forgiven him for criticising them. He shook his head in disbelief. Todd was away with a group of students, but Mort wouldn’t have gone to him anyway because they wanted to keep their friendship secret—wisely it seemed. It was now impossible for him to remain at the school. If only Fystie was there to talk to! As he had no idea where Leo might be he walked eleven kilometres into town to Mr. Trimm’s office. Heat-stressed and exhausted he was taken immediately to the lawyer’s comfortable rooms, sat on a comfortable chair and given cool drinks and biscuits before Marshall would let him tell his tale.

Without exaggeration, Mort told him what had happened.

Marshall gazed speculatively at his young friend. ‘Leo tells me you’re friends with a male teacher; what’s his name?’

‘Todd Brawn.’

‘Do you trust him?’

‘Of course.’

Marshall picked up his telephone and asked his secretary to put him through to Todd Brawn at the school; it wasn’t official and he didn’t want to speak to the principal, so she was to pretend to be his girlfriend or something and ask for him. He winked at Mort as he waited.

‘Mr. Brawn? Marshall Trimm here, I’m a lawyer friend of Mortaumal who tells me he trusts you absolutely. He’s not in trouble but I’d be pleased if you could go somewhere private and call me back on your mobile.’ He gave the number and hung up. A minute later his phone rang.

‘Thanks for ringing back. Is there a security camera in your school sick bay? Good. Are you able to retrieve the disc from it as soon as possible without alerting anyone? That’s perfect. It’s important that no one knows. Give me a call when you’ve done it and we can arrange to meet. I’ll explain everything then. Thanks.’

His eyes were twinkling when he replaced the receiver. ‘If we’re lucky we’ll have proof of Mrs. Kind’s unkindness.’

Mort looked uncomfortable.

‘Not happy?’

‘It’ll be embarrassing to see myself being…’

‘Fiddled with?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why? You’re a handsome lad—I think you’ll be proud. I’ll leave Leo a message to pick you up here. Meanwhile you can either go for a walk or sit in the waiting room and read the magazines or think about what you’d like to do about this woman.’

*****

Leo and Todd arrived within minutes of each other and they gathered in Marshall’s room. Todd had taken the disc from the security camera and replaced it with a new one, but he hadn’t watched it so had no idea if the women had also thought of it and replaced it. A player was produced and Todd fast-forwarded to Mort’s entrance. They watched in silence and Mort discovered he wasn’t embarrassed at all. His grin nearly split his face. Marshall stopped the replay and looked at Mort.

‘What do you think?’

‘She was trying to embarrass me.’

Leo frowned. ‘It’s very odd. She looks as if she’s acting. I don’t think she’s sexually interested in him at all. It’s as Mort said. She’s trying to make him feel rotten. What do you reckon, Todd?’

‘I agree. She’s an odd fish. Her husband left her years ago. Rumour has it she’s a lesbian. She’s certainly vindictive about many things. But obviously it wasn’t planned. She couldn’t have known the girl was going to vomit over Mort. I’d say she’s a vindictive cow whose been waiting for a chance to take Mort down a peg or two—one of her favourite expressions. The usual way for women to hurt males is to sneer at their sexual equipment and prowess. That’s why she masturbated him, in the hope of making him feel disgusted with himself. It’s instructive that Angelica Dominint immediately supported her colleague. I think they’ve been wanting to get rid of Mort for a while.’

‘Why? He’s such an asset.’

‘That’s the problem. Angelica’s husband is a morose brute who, according to rumour, bashes her on a regular basis. She often wears scarves and long sleeves and trousers, which I assume are to conceal bruises. Both women are childless. Before Mort arrived they were like everyone’s mother, maiden aunt and fairy godmother combined. The kids hung on their every word and made them feel loved and important. But over the last year the affections of most of the kids have been transferred to Mort. You’ve no idea what an angel of mercy he is. Always ready to listen, to enter into their fantasy games, praise and encourage. He seems to be a bottomless pit of good sense, good humour and exactly the sort of relationship these kids need—friendship that comes with absolutely no strings attached, unlike the two women who demand a return on their emotional investment—their pupils have to love and unquestioningly obey. The kids sense that and unconsciously resent it.’

‘So, what do we do about it?’ Todd was angry, feeling he’d failed Mort.

‘How do you feel now, having watched the video, Mort?’ Marshall asked.

‘Really, really annoyed! I don’t want to do it with someone like her! I wanted to do it with…’

‘Fystie?’

‘I already do, but he’s always talking about Miss Glee’s tits, which makes me laugh and then I get soft. So I was waiting for someone sexy that I liked.’

‘Like Lanky?’ Todd asked with a sly grin.

‘How did you guess?’ Mort asked in surprise.

‘I’ve got eyes.’

‘You’re not mad at me?’

‘Hardly, I’m proud that my boyfriend’s an object of a handsome young man’s lust. The point is, Mort, will you feel better if you ruin her life by making her actions public?’

Mort thought for a long minute, then looked up. ‘How will that make me feel better about it? Then I’ll just feel guilty that I’ve been as bad as her.’

‘That’s very noble, but she shouldn’t just get away with it.’

‘I agree, Leo.’ Todd turned to the lawyer. ‘Marshall, what do you think about showing the video to her, telling her we’re keeping a copy, and that if she ever does a similar thing, we’ll make a formal complaint?’

‘A life sentence, Todd? Rather harsh don’t you think.’

‘What do you suggest?’

‘What does the handsome and sexy recipient of her unwanted attentions think should happen?’

Mort couldn’t prevent a smile of pride that he was being treated as an equal, not an emotionally damaged victim. He sure didn’t feel like one, so it was a relief that the men admired him for the way he’d reacted, and didn’t talk as if it was the worst thing that could ever happen to anyone. Because he knew it wasn’t. Physically he was undamaged, and as he’d never been taught that sex or nudity was unnatural or something to hide, or be ashamed of and not discussed, there was no emotional damage, only the already dimming disappointment that he’d wasted an orgasm on an ugly old crone. It was funny really. He shrugged. ‘Show her the video. Tell her we’ve all seen it, and give it to her as a souvenir of me.’

‘Kneel, gentlemen to nobility and a sense of humour,’ Marshall said without cracking a smile. ‘How about I tell her to apologise to you if she wants the video?’

‘That’d be so embarrassing!’

‘Mmm...but fun,’ Todd laughed. ‘Can I come and watch?’

‘Do you want those three to know you know? Won’t it make your life there a bit difficult?’

‘You’re right, Marshall. I’ll stay out of it.’

‘What about Mort’s schooling? He’s not going back there.’

‘I agree. But he’s been long enough away from the other school for people to forget; I reckon it’ll be safe to return till the end of the year, and then he’ll be going to high school.’

Everyone agreed, Todd went home, and Leo was preparing to go when Marshall put a hand on his shoulder.

‘It’s scarcely worth your while to go home, Leo, why don’t you come and have a meal with me? Or is that a breach of client protocol?’

‘Probably, but I’d love to. The trouble is Amy’s away with Fystie and I have to take Mort home and make him a meal.’

‘Bring him along too. We’ll go to that new Thai restaurant by the river.’ He turned to Mort. ‘I had several delicious Thai meals with your grandparents, your grandmother was an excellent cook before....’

‘What about afterwards…?’ Leo asked Marshall, nodding slightly towards Mort.

‘Mort can read a book, listen to music, watch TV or watch your show. You’ve seen Leo perform, haven’t you Mort?

‘Yeah! At the Gymnasium, he was excellent.’

‘It’s a somewhat different show,’ Leo said apprehensively. ‘Different emphasis. Not for minors.’

‘He’s just been fiddled with by a semi-senior citizen,’ Marshall laughed. ‘He wanks. He knows all about sex. Do you want to keep him ignorant about the depths of turpitude that even respectable people sink to?’

‘What's turpitude?’

‘Depravity. Wickedness…’ Marshall Trimm’s eyes grew large and his laugh was maniacal.

Mort giggled.

‘People who don’t dare to be honest with their children, who pretend to be what they’re not, who think that even when children ask questions about sex they shouldn’t be told the truth about human nature, sex and everything else, are making life much more difficult for the kids, not easier. Mort needs to know that decent people often do things that hurt no one, even though others might think them perverse. How on earth are children to learn that our present fucked up moral code is a lie based on Victorian religious Puritanism and that this lie is the cause of failed marriages, unwanted pregnancies, sexually transmitted diseases, domestic violence and…’

‘And global warming, judging from the amount of hot air you’re producing.’

‘You may laugh.’

‘Thanks. But it’s enough that Mort should know. I don’t want him to die of laughter, or horror.’

‘You’re right, Leo. Learning must only happen when the pupil is ready and not before. I’ve always been too much in a rush. Be off with you both now, and meet me at the Thai Locust restaurant in half an hour, I’ve a few things to sign, and tomorrow’s instructions to give my secretary.’

*****

In a private booth at the restaurant, which lived up to it’s reputation, Marshall expounded on his theories between mouthfuls of something very tasty and alarmingly spicy that had Leo reaching for the water. Mort was used to it.

‘It’s a serious problem for parents, this sex education. Telling a child too much too soon is as bad as not telling enough. Parents must wait till they’re asked. But most children are too shy to ask them because the atmosphere surrounding all mention of sex is fraught with embarrassment, unspoken taboos and other idiocies. Parents seem to forget that consensual sexual exploration between children is natural and commonplace. They’ve probably done it themselves. Perhaps the biggest problem is that there is no scientifically supported definition of a child! Many serious researchers think childhood lasts from the end of infancy, signalled by proficient mobility and the acquisition of useful language, until puberty is under way. After that they are young adults.’

‘That means I’m no longer a child,’ Mort interrupted.

‘Do you agree with that?’

‘Yes!’ And I’m sick of being treated as if I’m one.’

‘Yet in most Western countries a man is a ‘boy’ until he’s sixteen or seventeen, with the result that an eighteen year old will be labelled a paedophile for life if he has sex with a seventeen-year-old. Utter insanity.’

‘What brought this on, Marshall.’

‘I’ve been defending a middle aged man who sat a child on his knee at a family gathering. In full view of everyone he [accidentally he says] rested his hand on the nine year-old’s groin and the kid got an erection. That’s all, yet the mother noticed this and wants her brother in law to be sent to prison for life.’

‘Fuck! Makes your blood run cold. What’s happened to him?’

‘No decision yet, but the kid’s become an emotional basket case from all the wringing of hands and sympathetic drivel from angry females, so I don’t hold out much hope because judges cling to a popular myth that children have no sexual feelings, no sexual awareness or desires. This notion has little basis in reality, yet it serves as an artificial foundation for other myths such as the academic and media driven assumption that all sexually expressed child/older person interactions are adult instigated and intrinsically and invariably harmful to the child. But there is no research that supports this view. I’m not attempting to deny the existence of very real cases of child sexual abuse, for which I think the perpetrators should be severely punished. In fact in some cases I think the death penalty would be too good for them.

‘Unfortunately, humans who have been indoctrinated to believe religious myths that have no factual basis, transfer that faulty way of thinking to sexual matters as well, and deliberately ignore reality and the facts, choosing to rely on what they’ve been told to believe. It’s alarming and dangerous that new facts, including scientific research, are generally not accepted or respected in debates about morality and sexual behaviour—including the causes of homosexuality.

‘In a 2009 book, Susan Clancy revealed that the vast majority of children, especially boys, are not adversely affected at the time by consensual sexual experiences with older persons. In the cold light of scientific investigation it was revealed that no devastating effects usually follow. Unfortunately, a child whose willing relationship with an older person is discovered, will be subjected by the law to a bewildering array of demands for private details, cooperation in investigations, and even physical examinations. The treatment of the young person is frequently so bad that a psychiatrist is on record as saying, if the boy had not been buggered by the man, he certainly had been by the police and doctor. And even those whose childhood relationships remain private will be hounded by the incessant child sexual abuse media drumbeat for the rest of their lives until they start to blame those innocent experiences for their unsuccessful lives. It is no wonder that some succumb to the call to denounce their ex partners decades later.’

‘So… you think it is only non-consensual sexual activity that causes emotional and psychological problems.’

‘In a sensible world, yes. When they become old enough to express themselves, children who are seeking a close relationship with an adult often don’t see much difference between close mental and close physical contact, which we call sexual. Studies by Bender and Blau in 1937 noted that the child was not always passive, but in some instances seemed to be the initiator or seducer. The investigation of their own and other's genitals is all but ubiquitous among boys, and older boys instruct younger ones. Boys seem to be intrinsically forward and proactive with peers as well as with other persons, and will explore their sexuality whenever they can find an opportunity to do so. Despite the dim view taken by the "psychology industry” of those who might interfere with their cash flow, the reality is that some boys will always go to men they find attractive in order to have their sexual and emotional needs met.’

‘I should have met you twenty years ago, Marshall. It’d have saved me a lot of guilt.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘When I was eleven a tradesman came to replace the gutters. Dad had to drive into town to get more supplies, so I held his ladder and when I looked up his shorts I could see his balls. Got so aroused I stroked his leg. He didn’t say anything so I slid my hand up till I touched them. “You’re giving me a hard on, so now I’ve got to do something about it,” he said as if it was a bit of a nuisance. I was so surprised I giggled and followed him round to the back terrace, where he took off his shorts and said that as my fingers had made him stiff, they had to undo the deed. He lay back and watched me do it, then I did it to myself. I still get a hard on remembering. He wasn’t really interested in me. I think he was just bored. The trouble was I’ve felt guilty ever since. Now you tell me I was normal!’

‘You were, and still are.’

‘So am I,’ Mort said shyly. ‘I’d like to touch Lanky if he was interested. But I don’t want to do anything... you know... sexy. I’d just like to touch a bit and be touched and... he blushed. ‘I’d hate it if I had to do what they do in the videos—-fucking up the arse and sucking and all that stuff. I’d just like…’

‘A man to take an interest in you and show he cares?’

‘Yes. Like you do with Fystie.’

‘And how old should this man be?’

‘Not old! He’d have to look young and be handsome and clean and fit… like those high-school boys who ride past every morning. They’d be great.’

‘It’s odd,’ Leo remarked, ‘that there’s a word for a man who likes boys, but no word for a boy who dreams of physical contact with young men.’

‘That’s because no one believes they do. And if I said publically what I’ve just said to you two, I’d be labelled a pederast and put on the police watch list.’

‘Don’t worry, Marshall, your perverted opinions are safe with us.’

Marshall laughed.

‘Grandpa was nice to me,’ Mort announced. ‘But he was old. I’ve always imagined my father would have cuddled me and kissed my forehead and made me feel I was nicer than everyone else. Stupid, I know, because I’m obviously so ugly no one wants to touch me.’ He pulled a tragicomic face.

‘You’re certainly not ugly! And you’re very intelligent. What about your mother—if she was around?’

‘I’ve never seen her and don’t want to. She dumped me the day I was born. Grandpa didn’t like her because she was like Grandma. I didn’t like Nasturtium much and neither did Grandpa. She was crazy even before the cops shoved her. But my father must have been nice, otherwise why am I so perfect?’ He grinned cheekily.

‘That’s very sound reasoning, Mort,’ Marshall grinned. ‘Shrude would have been proud. So... apart from meeting a young prince who would caress you gently, what do you want most from life?’

Mort frowned at his feet, then looked straight into Marshall’s eyes. ‘I want to find my father. I want him to hug me and tell me he’s proud of me.’

‘If I can find him for you, Mort,’ Marshall said seriously, ‘I will... but it might take some time.’

 

A Performance

Marshall’s apartment was above his legal offices. It was an older style building with high ceilings, elaborate mouldings, wide doors and hallways. The apartment had large rooms with long windows providing views over an adjacent park. It was furnished with heavy drapes, deeply padded armchairs, carpets Aladdin might have flown on, antique-looking furniture, table-lamps and wall bracket lights instead of a large central globe. Everything was old, well used and had probably never been expensive, yet the impression was of comfort, taste, neatness and order. Mort was entranced. This was the sort of house he’d like—if it had a garden.

He showered first, followed by Marshall, then while Leo was showering, Mort watched Marshall, who was wearing nothing but a blue towel around his waist, close the curtains, place a CD in the player, dim all the lights, and then gaze thoughtfully around as if checking.

‘You look much better in your towel than in a suit,’ Mort declared. ‘I thought you’d be flabby like the other old men at Leo’s gym. But you’re not. You look much friendlier too. I like you more. You should always wear a towel,’ he finished with a wicked grin.

‘Mmm… do you think my respectable clients would trust me more? And not so much of the old, if you please. I’m in my prime—according to Jean Brodie.’ Marshall smiled shyly, suddenly self-conscious, well aware that his stocky, pale body, although fit and fairly powerful bore no resemblance to Leo’s or the models in fitness magazines. ‘I’ve a few instruments of torture in a spare room that I use to keep myself fit, and I go hiking and camping. Perhaps you’d like to come one day?’

‘Yeah! I’d love to!

‘Anyway, there’s a library at the end of the corridor, with a TV and DVD player and several movies, and loads of books and CDs. If you’re tired, you can sleep on the divan. You’ll be able to amuse yourself.’

‘Books, I love them! Leo doesn’t have any, and we’re too far from a library. I sometimes feel I’m starving for something good to read.’ Mort looked around. ‘Is this where Leo’s going to perform?’

‘Yes.’

The lad stood as if to go, then hesitated. ‘The other day when you invited Leo to look at your etchings, was he coming here for...’

‘Sex.’ Marshall finished Mort’s sentence with an uncertain smile. There was a brief silence. ‘Shocked?’

‘Of course not. It’s just that…’

‘I’m so old and ugly.’

‘Yes. No! You’re not ugly, I’m just surprised.’

‘I would be too, except that I pay him for the privilege.’

‘How much?’

‘Tonight he’ll get five hundred dollars.’

Mort’s eyes popped. ‘You must be rich!’

‘Not especially. I have simple tastes so don’t spend much on living, and you’ll agree Leo’s an unusually fine specimen. I’ve always been prepared to pay for quality.’

‘What would I be worth?’

‘To me? Nothing. I like manly men with hairs on their chests, not hairless boys.’

‘Leo used to be smooth.’

‘Yes. I'm glad he stopped shaving when he left that awful Jezebel’s Gym.’

‘Why don’t you get a permanent boyfriend?’

‘My own age? The few men I know around my age who also like men, are either mentally interesting and physically repellent, or vice versa. I’m not desperate, but if I meet someone who’s prepared to put up with me, and who I’d be prepared to love and live with, I’ll grab him. However, I can’t see it happening at my age.’

‘How old are you?’

‘Forty-one.’

Mort nodded, having no idea what a forty-one year old should look like.

‘Why am I telling you this?’

‘Because... I don’t know.’

‘Because when children get curious, not telling them the truth about the important part sex plays in human behaviour, makes them grow into ignorant people with strange ideas who do stupid things. As I said at the restaurant, when they’re ready for it, children should be told all about everything that will be important to them as adults, so they can distinguish between what is fun and safe, and what isn’t. So they don’t have foolish expectations about sex with their girlfriends, boyfriends, wives and husbands. So that guilt about enjoying sex is eliminated, and people become emotionally and psychologically relaxed and sane about the most natural activity of all animals. Guess which so-called Western country has the highest rate of sexual deviancy, child sexual molestation, rapes, unwanted pregnancies and sexually transmitted diseases.’

‘Russia?’

‘The U.S.A.. Guess which has the most repressive attitudes towards sex and sexuality.’

‘United States?’

‘Yes. The link is obvious to everyone except those involved.’

‘So what’s Leo going to do for five hundred dollars?’

‘That, young man, is not part of your educational curriculum. Some things in life are only fun if you’re doing them. Talking about them sounds… kinky. Now, off you go.’

Mort wandered down to the library, put his hand on the doorknob and paused. He deliberately hadn’t asked if he could watch, so hadn’t been told he couldn’t.

The doorbell rang.

Mort put his head round the library door, found the switch and turned on the light. Leaving the door ajar he crept silently back along the darkened hallway to the dining room where he sat cross legged in shadow behind the glass doors separating him from the lounge room. It was empty. Muffled voices from the front entrance drew closer.

Years of watching TV shows had not prepared Mort for the excitement of a live performance. Real people were going to be acting. It wouldn’t be faked like TV or the videos he watched with Fystie. His heart hammered in his chest making it difficult to breathe and he leaned forward in excited anticipation.

Marshall, wearing an irritated frown as well as his towel, came in followed by an apologetic and diffident Leo in knee-length shorts with lots of pockets, a T-shirt and sandals.

‘I was just taking a shower. Who are you and what do you want?’ Marshall asked testily, wrapping his towel slightly tighter round his waist. ‘I shouldn’t have invited you in, but the neighbour’s such a bloody gossip. Well?’

Leo explained that he didn’t earn enough in his day job, so he needed night work because his wife and child were sick. He’d heard that Mr. Trimm was a really nice guy who helped people down on their luck and sometimes knew where a bloke could find work.

‘What sort of work?’

‘Anything at all.’

‘Anything?’ Marshall replied with a slight smile.

‘Anything!’ Leo declared innocently.

‘As it happens, I’ve some cleaning needs doing. Do you have overalls?

‘No sir, but it doesn’t matter.’

‘Of course it matters. Your clothes will get dirty. Take them off.’

‘But... I’ve nothing underneath.’

‘So what? There’s only the two of us.’ Marshall sat in the armchair and glared.

Mort sat transfixed. Already both men were different people, and he didn’t want to miss anything.

‘If you’re sure?’

‘I’m sure.’

Leo frowned, removed his shirt, and folded it neatly.

‘And your trousers.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Slowly and sexily the trousers were slid off, revealing perky bronzed buttocks and powerful hairy legs. Leo kicked off his sandals and turned to face his new employer, legs slightly apart, hands clasped behind his back, penis slightly aroused, eyes innocent, lips open in guileless anticipation.

Taking a cloth from the sideboard, Marshall tossed it to Leo and told him to clean the floors under the furniture. Docilely, Leo dropped to hands and knees and crawled across the floor. The view as he reached under a low chair was worthy of any sexy magazine. Having completed the wiping he remained on his knees and looked back over his shoulder. ‘Is this good enough, sir?’

Marshall got down beside him, steadying himself by holding onto Leo’s thigh, then sliding his hand up to absentmindedly fondle the dangling bits. ‘Very good,’ he announced, standing again. ‘Carry on.’

But when Leo moved, he gave a cry of pain. ‘Oh, my back! I’ve slipped a disc.’

Mort gave a gasp of horror. Believing it real.

‘Luckily for you I know what to do,’ Marshall announced.

Mort relaxed.

‘I know a massage technique that will loosen everything up, and then I’ll flex your spine so the disc pops back. Here, lie on this.’

Marshall removed his towel with a flourish, and spread it on the floor.

Leo lay on it on his stomach, and Marshall commenced an intimate and somewhat invasive exploratory massage, before turning his patient over.

‘Goodness, young man, you have an erection!’ Marshall said as if shocked.

‘I’m so sorry, sir,’ Leo apologised. ‘Your hands felt so sexy, I couldn’t help myself. It’s so stiff it hurts but I don’t know what to do about it. can you help me?’

‘Mort giggled, entranced. This was so real! They acted so well he was caught up in the fantasy and a part of his brain believed it.

‘Well, that would be highly unusual, but as it seems to be uncomfortable…’

This time the massage was gentler and involved lips and tongue as well as probing fingers. Finally, Marshall sat back on his haunches. ‘Your muscles and bones now seem loose enough for me to flex the spine, so relax while I finalise the treatment.’ He slowly raised Leo’s feet and draped a leg over each shoulder. ‘Now you are perfectly flexed. Does it feel better?’

‘Yes, sir. Thank you.’

‘Good. However to prevent this happening again I’ll finish off with an internal massage.’

‘Internal?’ Mort detected a note of alarm.

‘Yes. Relax, it’s nothing to worry about.’

Reaching to the side, Marshall picked up a foil sachet that he opened with his teeth. Extracting a black condom he rolled it on, then picked up a tube from which he squeezed a translucent cream that he smeared in and around his patient’s anus.

Leo looked up with wide, horrified eyes. ‘What’re you going to do to me?’

‘Cure you completely.’

‘You are a generous man,’ Leo said softly as his mentor slid his manhood in as deep as it would go.

Mort watched in astonishment. He’d seen a few videos, but never really believed this was possible, imagined it was all a fake, but it was really happening! Marshall was thrusting and Leo, was enjoying it, telling Marshall how sexy he was, how manly, how potent.

Marshall’s orgasm was very noisy.

Mort wanted to cheer from excitement, but managed to refrain.

After withdrawing, Marshall checked Leo’s erection, which had shrivelled unrecognisably.

‘It worked!’ Leo said in delight, grabbing the end of the towel and wiping his belly. ‘You cured me - I came when you did.’

Marshall seemed inordinately pleased. With a powerful heave he pulled Leo to his feet and they went off to shower while Mort crept back to the library and pretended to read while recalling every part of the play, as he thought of it. Mostly it was funny, he decided. It was so unreal. In real life it could never happen. No one was so innocent as Leo had acted. But it was fun to watch, although he worried it might have been painful for him being fucked; Marshall had been rough. He’d ask him when they got home.

Leo, in his usual clothes, poked his head in the doorway. Not asleep? Come on—time to go. At the front door Marshall handed Leo an envelope, patted his shoulder, then shook Mort’s hand. ‘I hope you’ll visit again soon, Mort. Talk to Leo about that camping trip.’

‘Yeah, can’t wait. Thanks, Marshall.’

They jogged home through quiet, darkened streets, arriving refreshed and relaxed.

‘Iced chocolate?’

They gazed at each other across the table.

‘You’ve a funny grin on your face. You watched, didn’t you?’ Leo didn’t sound annoyed, so Mort admitted it.

‘What did you think?’

Mort’s eyes shone. ‘You were both great! You should be professional actors; I believed everything even though I knew it wasn’t really real. And Marshall looks much better naked than dressed. And you look better hairy. I loved it! But didn’t it hurt when he fucked you? And did you really come when he did?’

Leo assured Mort he hadn’t been hurt, he knew how to relax—but he hadn’t ejaculated, he’d told Marshall he had to make him feel proud.

Mort digested that. ‘He’s nice, isn’t he. He asked me to go camping and hiking with him. Can I?’

‘Definitely! It will be good for you. He’s a very smart guy.’

‘But he isn’t very happy, I don’t think. What you did was just acting, so he’s usually alone, and probably lonely, I reckon.’

‘You’re a sweet and kind young man, aren’t you?’

‘Not really. I just seem to feel what people are really like sometimes.’

Although it was only just after nine o’clock they went to bed to make sure they’d wake in time to pick up Fystie and Amy in the morning.

Copyright © 2018 Rigby Taylor; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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"For those who like that sort of thing, that is the sort of thing they like." I loved 'The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie (the Maggie Smith version of the movie). I liked that Marshall mentioned Jean Brodie as a way of indicating to Mort that as far as his age, he was in his 'prime.'

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Very well done, and from Mort's perspective is was very...interesting!

 

The issue around sex ed for children, I am not sure if there is such a thing as "too young". If a child is not old enough to comprehend what they are being told, be it sex ed or the operation of the internatal combustion engine, they will get bored and wander off either physically or intellectually. Sex ed should be a sort of continuous supply of information as the child either asks or situations arise. At age about 9 or 10 my eldest asked me how a pregnancy could be "unwanted". What followed was hardly detailed sex ed, and his main question was why anyone would have actual Intercourse "for fun". A couple of years on and once he had discovered masturbation, that point became moot, and he had moved on so the questions moved on as well... years later he accused me of never having "The Talk" with him. When I went over the history, apart from managing to embarrass him no end, he agreed, all the info he thought he'd just "discovered" was actually the product of Q&A over time.

Edited by Canuk
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3 hours ago, Canuk said:

Very well done, and from Mort's perspective is was very...interesting!

 

The issue around sex ed for children, I am not sure if there is such a thing as "too young". If a child is not old enough to comprehend what they are being told, be it sex ed or the operation of the internatal combustion engine, they will get bored and wander off either physically or intellectually. Sex ed should be a sort of continuous supply of information as the child either asks or situations arise. At age about 9 or 10 my eldest asked me how a pregnancy could be "unwanted". What followed was hardly detailed sex ed, and his main question was why anyone would have actual Intercourse "for fun". A couple of years on and once he had discovered masturbation, that point became moot, and he had moved on so the questions moved on as well... years later he accused me of never having "The Talk" with him. When I went over the history, apart from managing to embarrass him no end, he agreed, all the info he thought he'd just "discovered" was actually the product of Q&A over time.

This is very interesting, and also very wise. Your child has been very fortunate. 

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9 hours ago, skyacer said:

"For those who like that sort of thing, that is the sort of thing they like." I loved 'The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie (the Maggie Smith version of the movie). I liked that Marshall mentioned Jean Brodie as a way of indicating to Mort that as far as his age, he was in his 'prime.'

I saw Geraldine McEwan - a very prissy but endearing portrait of Miss Brodie. I'm a fan of Maggie smith, would like to have seen the way she did it. Similar to her depiction of the maiden aunt in the Ivory-Merchant production of "Room with a View", I imagine. 

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