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From: HMS Victor Victorian <victorvictorian@hushunomail.com>
Newsgroups: alt.fan.prettyboy
Subject: The Facts of Life Chapters 1 & 2
Date: Sun, 31 Jul 2011 13:27:39 -0600
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Nigel and the Facts of Life
Chapter 1 The Issue
Nigel Macmillan had never wondered much about the facts of life. He
never had to. As with most seven-year-old boys, he believed he
already understood them.
Avoid irritating the grownups.
Beware of older sisters.
Work only as required.
Play whenever possible.
Occasionally be naughty, but don't get caught.
Eat only enough vegetables to qualify for dessert.
Have a pee before bed, then a tall glass of water.
At bedtime, have a warm friend to snuggle with beneath the covers.
Say your secret incantation to prevent night scares.
These facts of life were logical, comprehensible and practical. In a
word, they were elegant. Adults, on the other hand, seemed to have a
different understanding of the facts of life that was anything but
elegant, and it customarily revolved around something as trifling as
sex. Sex rarely distracted a small boy's attention. Oh, yes. It
could be hilariously naughty, but in the order of boyhood priorities,
interest in sex fell roughly between getting a new pair of Sunday
trousers and being subjected to an extra helping of Aunt Elspeth's
haggis, neeps and tatties. What interest there was fell precipitously
when girls were involved. More often than not, girls were a nuisance
and usually buggered things up, and they lacked certain requisite
anatomical features boys shared.
Although grownups claimed sex was natural and good, their behaviour
spoke volumes to the contrary. There were parts of the body that one
shouldn't touch or show and things one should never do. Nigel learned
that one afternoon when he was only four years old. Mummy had just
taken him out of the bath and vigorously dried him off. Feeling hot
and high-spirited, he had dashed naked from the bathroom and streaked
down the hall screaming in excitement. He flew into the bedroom, gave
a mighty leap and bounced onto his bed. Holding his knees tightly to
his chest, he balled himself up, rocked back onto his shoulders, and
stuck his bottom in the air. Oh, but the rush of cool air across his
sphincter felt refreshing! At that very moment, Mummy walked in.
"Nigel!" she had exclaimed curtly, "Don't expose yourself so! No one
wants to see your balloon knot. Put on your smalls."
And Nigel never forgot that.
Clearly, if anyone were confused as to what the facts of life were, it
seemed to be the grownups. This would become crystalline clear to the
boy, and his entire understanding of what had once been obvious would
afternoon.
Chapter 2 Jeremy
Nigel was exercising the second and fourth precepts of boyhood by
playing with his toy soldiers in his room, where he'd taken refuge
from his older sister. Claris had invited a few friends from school
over for a pool party. If all went well, Mum and Dad had promised she
could invite them for a sleep over next weekend.
"You better bugger off when my friends get here," Claris had warned,
"Or I'll box your ears. And put on your underwear, for Christ's
sake!"
With Daddy at work and Mummy gone to a luncheon, the boy had no
defense should Claris indeed decide to box his ears. So he had
sequestered himself upstairs. He interrupted his play only once when
he heard a tempest of screaming outside. He jumped up and peered out
his window into the garden below. Claris' school chums had arrived
wearing their bathing suits. To Nigel, they hardly seemed friends at
all, so rudely were they pushing and punching and snapping towels at
one another. It was boys against girls, and Nigel approved of that.
Otherwise, he ignored them and concentrated on sending his toy
Coldstream Guards in an assault against a mountain peak held by the
evil troll dolls that Daddy had won for him tossing rings at a fair.
Now, the lofty peak held by the trolls was his bedroom dresser, so to
seize it his brave warriors had to scale the treacherous sides. The
branches and rolled up socks they'd got from the top drawer.
Undeterred, Nigel led his intrepid forces upward.
"Socks to the right of them," he intoned, "Socks to the left of them!
Fight Brigade!"
And they stormed the summit, sweeping the trolls off and down the
cliff sides to their well-deserved bushy-haired deaths.
"Good work, men!" Nigel cried and hummed Rule Britannia as he brought
the flag bearer to the top of the dresser. Then he abruptly paused and
tilted his head curiously.
For the first time, he noted an eerie silence in the garden below. The
boy peeked out the window again. Unbelievably, there was no one at
all in the garden. The pool still silently heaving, but its recent
and rowdy occupants were nowhere to be found. There wasn't so much as
a towel, or a soda can, or an empty crisps bag to indicate Claris'
guests had ever come. What fantastic luck, Nigel thought. He
abruptly abandoned his troops, thumped downstairs, peeled off his
underwear and socks, and rummaged through the foyer closet until he
found his swimming equipment. Donning his snorkel, mask and flippers,
he shuffled out onto the back porch.
Slap, slap, slap, slap went the fins.
Now, Nigel knew very well he wasn't allowed near the pool without an
older person about, but for the boy, such an opportunity was
irresistible.
"Claris will be back soon, or she'll get in trouble with Mummy," Nigel
rationalised, and moved toward the ladder. "So it'll be alright."
He stopped to snatch up a great, green, inflated crocodile and tossed
it into the pool. Then, with his snorkel and mask firmly set in
place, he made a quick security check of the garden, slapped his way
up the ladder and down it and into the crystalline water. Just as he
was preparing to submerge, Nigel heard voices coming from the
direction of the kitchen. He ducked behind the crocodile and silently
slipped to the side of the pool. Stopping by the ladder, he hid and
spied out through the steps.
It was Claris and her friend Jeremy Stuart, both still dressed in
their cozzies for swimming. Jeremy was a somewhat lanky, curly-headed
boy who frequently came to visit his sister. He'd just turned
thirteen, so he was a half-year older than Claris. Nigel liked him,
because Jeremy seemed to like being with him nearly as much as with
Claris, and he didn't seem to care if Nigel was often without his
trousers. The boy was always giving him some gum or telling funny
stories or wrestling with him and playing jacks or ball or tickling
games while he waited for Claris. Still, all that didn't matter then.
Nigel knew he was done for, just as soon as Claris discovered him in
the pool.
And they were both headed right for him.
"Stay a little longer, Jeremy," Claris was begging, "Mum won't be home
for awhile."
"You guess so?"Claris asked, "Like you're doing me a favour. You
don't like me, then?"
all had to go before your Mum came."
"No, you don't like me!" Claris replied with an exaggerated pout, and
gave him a smack on his bare chest.
And the chase was on.
The two of them dashed and jumped and frolicked about for a while,
grabbing and slapping and shoving, all in fun and all to Nigel's
absorption, until Claris finally let Jeremy catch her. He wrapped his
arms around her and pressed her close.
but interesting.
"Kiss me!" Claris demanded and pursed her lips so comically that Nigel
instead.
some encouragement?"
With a leer, she suddenly slipped the right strap of her one piece
bathing suit off her shoulder, then the left strap. She then peeled
the entire front of her cozzie down to her waist, exposing her nubs
and pressed them against Jeremy.
doing?"
tightly up against the boy's.
"Got one what?" Jeremy blushed.
"One of those what?"
Although the conversation was intriguing-incomprehensible but
intriguing-Nigel found himself more interested in what was happening
to the front of Jeremy's swimming trunks. The boy had on baggy ones
and where the front had hung straight, it had suddenly risen like a
scouting tent. Claris was certainly interested, for she abruptly
grabbed him there. Jeremy gave a little yelp and jumped back.
"Blimey, Claris!" he blurted out, "Don't!"
"Ooo!" she said with satisfaction, "Can I look at it?"
"Look at what?" Jeremy exclaimed, trying to keep his teen boy swagger
intact. He involuntarily backed up towards the pool.
"Just a quicky."
Jeremy could only manage to swallow nervously.
His lame joke failed to deter Claris. She advanced and Jeremy
retreated. His hands found the pool ladder rails and he went
backwards right up the ladder, and down the other side, and into the
water. Nigel hid behind his crocodile and stealthily slipped out of
the way.
All of a sudden, the sound of a phone ringing came from inside the
house.
straps back up, then added in a silly sing-song voice, "I'll be right
"Yeah, no prob'," the boy replied, and heaved a great sigh of relief
when she disappeared into the house. "God!"
In the interim Nigel decided to inspect Jeremy's trunks further, so he
set his swim mask over his face, submerged and glided up to him.
Beneath the water, the older boy's trunks floated up like a serene
parachute and just for a moment Nigel could to peer straight into them
and see the end of Jeremy's penis nodding lazily up and down in the
current. Down to his last gasp air and unable to contain his
curiosity, Nigel reached in, grabbed at the boy's willy and then burst
through the surface.
"Jesus CHRIST, Nigel!" Jeremy shouted, "You scared the shit out of
me!"
"You've got a stiffy," the little boy sputtered.
little bugger!" Jeremy complained, "How'd you like it if I grabbed
yours?"
"You can't," Nigel challenged and he leapt onto his crocodile.
Jeremy reached out and easily snagged Nigel's foot. He pulled the boy
off and held him with one arm.
"There! I've got your todger. How do you like it now?"
"My todger?"
"It tickles, Jeremy!"
"I told you that you wouldn't like it," Jeremy laughed as Nigel
squirmed, "Serves you right!"
Nigel collapsed into giggly hysterics.
"That's fun," the little boy sniggered, "Do it again."
"There!" the older boy obliged, "I swear I'm going to pull it off and
throw it over the hedge!"
The truth was that Nigel, while completely convulsed in sniggering,
liked the feeling quite a bit, and he suspected Jeremy liked it, too,
for when the little boy squeezed the older boy's willy through his
trunks, Jeremy would squeeze back.
"Let go of it!" Nigel gurgled.
"No, you let go first!"
sound of a door close. Claris appeared at the back step, dressed in
her regular clothes.
"Mum'll be home in fifteen minutes," Claris exclaimed anxiously,
crossing the lawn toward them, "You're supposed to be gone. Hurry up.
She stopped abruptly. Nigel grinned.
"What the hell are you doing in there, you little turd?" she snapped.
bobbing up and down.
"How long have you been in there?" Claris demanded.
"Oh, God!" And Claris actually turned pale, and then demanded, "What
did you see?"
"You and Jeremy kiss, and then when you showed him your bee stings."
thunderstorm, "I'll strangle you!"
"Aw, let him go," Jeremy said, "He won't tell."
"What?" Claris scoffed, "It'll be out in a second, and I'll never get
to have a sleep over! Promise! Not one word!"
"I won't say anything," Nigel said hastily, raising a wrinkly hand in
oath, "Promise!"
HMSVV2011
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