Date: Thu, 24 Mar 2005 08:33:44 -0800 (PST) From: David Raley <email@example.com> Subject: Brady at the Beach-Chapter 2 Thirty minutes passed while Brady and Peter walked up the hill from the beach. The pair talked about their lives. Their hands remained interlaced for most of the walk. "I live with my Mom," Peter said. "Our flat's just a little ways from the beach. Mom works for one of the hotels." A red double-decker bus drove by just as the boy's walked by the local Blackwell's bookstore. Brady barely noticed. Peter had all of his attention. Peter's eyes are the same color as the sky Brady though. "What about your dad?" Brady asked. Peter's near perfect smile faded. "He lives in London. He might as well be dead for all that we ever hear from him." An impulse to make Peter smile took control of Brady. He leaned over and kissed Peter on the cheek. Surprise replaced the storm cloud look on Peter's face. "Bloody hell," Peter said. "What's with you? First you act like so shy I wondered if I scared you. Now you kiss me on the cheek right out in public." "S-sorry," Brady said. Peter laughed. "Don't take it like that. I liked it. You just surprised me, that's all." The walked resumed. Peter placed his arm around Brady's shoulder. Such closeness made Brady's penis stir to life. He made sure his shirt tail hid his visible excitement. "Do your parents know you fancy boys?" Peter asked. "Yes." "What do they make of it?" The question provoked a shrug from Brady. "Mom's best friend likes guys, and Dad says you can't deny what you are." Peter used his freehand to adjust the front of his cutoffs. The sight intensified Brady's excitement. He lifted his shirt to show Peter his erect penis straining against the thin material of his black speedo. Peter licked his lips. "I guess you must fancy me." Brady grinned. "That's why I took all those pictures of you." Halfway up the hill, Peter took his hand off Brady's shoulder. The break of contact left Brady disappointed. "Why did you..." Brady stopped in mid sentence. Peter wrapped his arm around Brady's waist. Delight chased off disappointment. "I like this way better," Peter said. So do I Brady thought. Closer to Peter than ever, Brady felt delirious. Feeling of warmth contrasted made a perfect contrast to the gray sky overhead. A strange temptation threatened to overwhelm Brady. I wish I could get naked right now. A large rumble pulled Brady back to his senses. Another double-decker bus rolled boy. He remembered his feet carried him down a public street in a foreign country. "What's your family like?" Peter asked. Peter's hand went wondering beneath Brady's shirt. He groped Brady's crotch and squeezed his erection. A goofy grin lit up Brady's face. "My dad's a guidance counselor at of the high schools back in Seattle. He thinks you can work out any problem by talking. Mom's an artist. She draws covers for books and stuff, and sometimes she teaches art classes." Peter continued to rub Brady's crotch. "That was your brother with those girls on the beach, right?" I'm wearing too many clothes Brady thought. "That was your brother right?" "What?" Brady asked. "Oh yeah. He's a pain sometimes. He's really into acting and girls." Peter's hand explored the inside of Brady's speedo. He began fondling Brady's balls. "Does your brother know you fancy boys?" "Y-yes," Brady gasped. An old woman walking a black schnauzer noticed Peter at work. She glared at the boys. Peter rewarded her with a grin and a wink. He's crazy Brady thought. He still felt glad Peter's hand stayed inside the swim suit. "What does your brother think about that?" Peter asked. "What?" The hand rubbed up and down on Brady's erect penis. God, I want to get naked! "That doesn't bother him," Brady said. "He makes fun of me for other things, but he never rags on me for liking guys." "Glad to hear your brother isn't a stupid git, unlike some people you meet." Peter craned his head in the direction of the scandalized old woman. Brady felt sorry for her but laughed anyway. The old woman stopped to make her glare even frostier. Peter kept trudging onward with Brady in tow. "Forget her," Peter said. "You're about 13, right?" "Yes. My birthday was 6 months ago. So, we're pretty close to the same age." "Guess again, mate. I'm two years older. I'm just a little short for 15." A feeling of disappointment came over Brady. He couldn't explain why he felt that way. His chest tried to tie itself in a knot. "Don't get your knickers in a bind," Peter said. His fingers manipulated Brady's penis. Brady found it hard to walk. "S-sorry," Brady moaned. "Quit apologizing already. You've got nothing feel sorry for, and you've got a great body." The boys arrived at the two-story house Brady's family would spend the next two weeks in. Brady lead his new friend inside. He discarded most of his belongings and clothing in the entryway. Once more clad in only a speedo, Brady lead Peter to the kitchen. Peter retrieved the camera case and brought it with him. "Don't forget this. It's why we walked all the way here, isn't it?" A slender, forty-something woman with short platinum blond hair sat at the kitchen table. She focused all her concentration on a sketch pad. Black stylish clothing covered her body. Brady peeked over her shoulder. The boy he saw on the sketch pad looked like him minus the swim suit. The artist finished sketching the body and began to draw a pair of angelic wings on the boy. Peter joined Brady in peeking over the woman's shoulder. "I'd say she's got you down pretty good. The wings are a nice touch, but it might take a while for you to grow yours." The woman placed her pencil and sketchpad on the table. She turned her chair around and looked Peter over. Her eyes studied him with intense focus. Maybe she wants to sketch him Brady thought. "Hi, Mom. This is Peter." The woman thrust out her hand. "Aria Fitzpatrick." Peter shook the offered hand. "A pleasure, Mrs. Fitzpatrick." The two shook hands, and Peter flashed his most disarming grin. Mrs. Fitzpatrick fixed Brady with a knowing look. They look made Brady aware of his obvious erection. He blushed. "You seem to have quite an effect on my son," Mrs. Fitzpatrick said. "Mom!" Mrs. Fitzpatrick rose from her chair and placed a hand on Brady's shoulder. "I've told you a thousand times, sweet, it's natural. You have not feel ashamed about, especially at the rate you are growing." Brady shot Peter a helpless look. Laughter doubled Peter over. Mrs. Fitzpatrick looked at Peter with disapproval on her face. "Sorry," Peter said. "It's just that with a mom like you, I can't see why Brady acts so shy." Mrs. Fitzpatrick's expression turned wry. "He doesn't. At least he usually doesn't. Back in Seattle, he mostly walks around the house nude and usually tries to get away with wearing as little as possible in public." Peter's face lit up. "I do that too. Clothes are only useful when they keep you warm or when you don't want the police to put you in jail." Mrs. Fitzpatrick made drinks for everyone. Brady set up his laptop and printed off a copy of the photos for Peter. They all sat down and had a look at the photos. "At least you took some shots of the pier," Mrs. Fitzpatrick said. Peter frowned. "What's wrong with the pictures?" "When we go on vacation, Brady spends most of his time snapping pictures of boys." Brady took a sip of his drink to avoid speaking. While Peter looked over the photos, Peter noticed the drawing of Brady as an angel. "It'd be lovely to have that sketch," Peter said. "Can I buy it from you when you finish it?" Mrs. Fitzpatrick looked at Peter and raised an eyebrow. Brady watched as his mom struggled to maintain a straight face. Relief flooded through Brady when his mom's expression melted into a smile. "I'll finish the sketch before you leave," she said. "You can take it with you free of charge." A smile spread across Peter's face. He started going through the photos again. Mrs. Fitzpatrick picked up the photo of Peter adjusting his crotch. "Yes. Brady seems quite taken with you." "Mom!" The protest elicited a laughed from Mrs. Fitzpatrick. She handed the picture to Brady and ruffled his hair. Brady sighed and tried to put his hair back in place. "I'm your mother. I can read you like a book." Brady cast another helpless look. Peter just grinned and looked back at the picture of the angel. "Don't look at me, mate. I think your Mom's bloody fantastic." Brady sighed. How does Mom always brainwash every friend I make? Mrs. Fitzpatrick's expression turned serious. "Brady, I'm going to trust you because we've discussed what your father and I think is safe and what's not safe." She picked up the sketch and returned to working on the wings. "You guys move along now. Go have some fun." Brady got up. He grabbed Peter by the arm and dragged him from the table. Peter barely had time to set the photos down. "One second," Mrs. Fitzpatrick said. The boys froze. Mrs. Fitzpatrick looked right at Peter. Her voice lacked any sign of humor. "I enjoyed meeting you. You've taken an interest in someone who means the world to me. Handle with care." "I can't believe she just said that," Brady fumed. He threw himself onto the bed that belonged to him for the duration of his stay in Bright. An identical bed occupied a space along the opposite wall of the small bedroom. The room had a window facing the street. Peter leaned against the door frame. "You didn't listen. She told you she trusts you." Brady sat up and situated himself in lotus position. "What about what she said said to you?" Peter laughed. "Oh that's nothing. I suppose that's just her way of letting me know how much she cares about you." "But..." Peter gently placed a hand over Brady's mouth. "My mother would say the same thing, only with a lot more sailor talk. She does it every time I bring a boy home." "I guess your right," Brady sighed. They kissed. Time seemed to freeze while their tongues went exploring. Brady found himself lifting Peter's shirt. Peter broke of the kiss and helped Brady pull the shirt over his head. "Have you ever done this before?" "Done what?" Peter reached in his pocket and pulled out a couple of condoms. He tossed one to Brady. Brady held the package in his palm and stared at it. "First thing you have to learn is safety first. Never let anyone tell you otherwise." Brady grimaced and fumbled with the wrapper. "Don't look so worried. I'll help you put it on," Peter said. Brady relaxed a little and handed the packed to Peter. "All right." Peter sat down on the bed next to Brady. "Good man. You're going to enjoy this."