Henri

Please find here: chapter 3 of my on going story of HENRI. Also would you add it to my list of stories under AUTHORS...thanks.

To my readers: Please consider a generous contribution to Nifty Archive so that the stories can continue to be available to the reading public. Thanks. Ben Ezra Jacobson

Chapter Three

Hank started his Junior year of high school and returned to work at the store.

All while he was recuperating...the store owner sent him his regular pay check. Hank felt gratitude for the kindness that had been extended to him. It was good to be back with friends...but he found that he missed the conversations with Pete who had returned to college. The second week had just ended and Hank hurried home after work to have dinner with the folks. Mom and Dad were not there...but there was a letter addressed to him on the kitchen table. He sat down and read it through...then read it through again.

Dear Hank,

My name is Sergeant Dennis Brown. I am serving with your uncle Tom Chatteau. He has asked that I write to you to let you know that he has been involved in a military maneuver and that an explosion has put him in the field hospital here.

He took some shrapnel to his face and has burns on his face, shoulders and upper arms. Right now he has bandages over his eyes and his hands are cut up a bit. It looks like his body will recover...but his eyes may not. The surgeon has done everything in his power to save his sight...but only time will tell if he will see again.

I know this will be a blow to you and your family...but he says to tell you that at least he is still alive. He also says to tell Maurice (who ever that is) that he was right. Respectfully:

Dennis Brown

Hank took in a deep breath and breathed out slowly. At least he is still alive.

At least he is still alive. At least he is still... The loss of his eyes would bring his photography to an end.

Maurice and Maggie arrived home shortly there after. Hank handed the letter to his mom...who read it out loud.

"Dear God...why did he have to go," Maurice whispered. He put his head down on the table and sobbed. Hank never realized how much his dad cared for his younger brother.

"Maury," said Mrs. Chatteau, "At least he wasn't killed. He can come back here and we will take care of him. Maybe the surgery will be successful. Let's don't give up hope. It would not be good for any of us. Let's plan to sustain him regardless what happens down the road."

Maurice knew she was right...but he also wondered if living with burns and the loss of Tom's eye sight might be worse for him than having not survived. When he talked to her about it later in the evening...she reminded him that Tom had chosen to have them notified. That does not sound like he has given up all hope.

"You're right, of course. Regardless to his condition...we will do all we can to help him to recover and to be productive as possible when he returns," Maurice said.

Hank went to his room to answer the letter that his uncle had asked his friend to write and addressed it to the field hospital where he was recovering. Regardless to his burns, scars or loss of sight, he would do all he could to help. At least he was alive...and once back home...he would be with family once more.

Dear Tom,

Thanks for having Sergeant Brown write to us for you. We are supposing that you will be medically discharged and sent back here. We intend to do everything and anything we can to help in your recovery. Please know that this is your home and you can stay forever. Thanks for thinking of me while you were over seas. I thought of you all the time...and even despite your situation at the moment...I confess that I can hardly wait to see you again. Hank.

When Hank returned to school...some of his friends had already began to spread the word that Tom had been wounded and would likely be returning. They offered to help if Hank would tell them what they could do. The store owner offered him some time off to settle his uncle back home...but Hank said that he could still tend his duties at the store.

He wrote to Pete at college and told of the letter and that his Uncle would be coming home. Pete called on the phone, the afternoon he got Hank's letter and wanted to know if there was anything that he could do to help.

"Gosh Pete, you're 200 miles away...but just to talk to you on the phone has cheered me up," he said. We don't know what to expect...but I am going to try to do anything it takes to bring him back into the routines here."

"That's great Hank...but don't neglect yourself...bud. You won't help either of you if you work yourself to exhaustion," Pete offered.

"Hank...what are you doing this coming week end," he asked?

"Other than working at the story...no plans, why," Hank asked?

"Talk to Mr. Walker and see if you can get a substitute...then catch the evening train up here after school on Friday...and spend the week end. We can go to some of the university functions...and it will divert your thoughts of Tom until he is able to get home. I'll wire the money to you for the round trip ticket," Pete offered.

"Gosh Pete...I wish I could...and you wouldn't have to send the ticket money...I've got enough to do it...but I hate to put Mr. Walker on the spot with such a short notice," Hank answered back.

"I'll wager that he would be cool with it. You never ask off for anything unless the time you were recovering from your fall at our party. Ask him, and come up here to spend some time with me," Pete said again.

This time, Hank did not argue, "I'll ask him tomorrow...OK?"

"Ok..." said Pete.

It was difficult to sleep that night thinking about Tom coming home and then there was the possibility of going to see Pete at the university. His mind was in a whirl. He thought to himself, "I'll never go to sleep tonight." He rolled over on his side to feel the breeze, then the other side. After about an hour of tossing...he got up and climbed the stairs to Tom's room. Raising the windows at both ends, the breeze poured through. He stripped off his bath robe and boxers and climbed in, between the sheets. His head barely hit the pillow when his alarm clock on his phone went off. It was 6:30 AM and time to get ready for school.

BANDAGES

About mid day...the surgeon came into the room that Tom shared with several other wounded soldiers. He slipped over to Tom's bunk and sat on the stool next to his bed.

"Well Tom...we are going to change the bandages on your eyes."

As he uncoiled the bandages and removed the cotton gauze...Tom feared for

what the results might be. As the coils of gauze came away, with his eyes closed, the surgeon asked him to very slowly open them just a tiny crack. As he did so, he flinched. They were sensitive to the light...but when fully open...he could see only a haze with some spots brighter than others.

"Damn," he said. "I can't see anything but a faint haze. I knew it would not work."

"Tom, Tom...Don't throw yourself into the fire. The fact that you can see graduations of light and dark shows that there is some repair going on. It may take awhile...but at least it isn't total darkness," the surgeon said as he patted his leg. (His shoulders and arms were still experiencing pain from his burns.)

"This is good...you're recovering...and in a few weeks..your vision will likely improve dramatically. But you're going to have to exercise a good deal of patience...young man."

Tom did not feel very encouraged.

"Your right Doc. My task is to be patient and exercise some faith," he responded.

"That's right, son. I'll be back in the morning to see you again."

"Sergeant," said Tom, "tell me about my face. What does it look like?"

"You're face has some burn marks on it...but not bad...can't tell about your shoulders and chest...because of the bandages...but your hands are not burnt," he answered Tom .

"Then why are they bandaged," he asked.

"Don't you remember the surgeon saying that he was covering your hands to keep you from touching the wounds and infecting them. He told you that your hands were not burnt. I saw them Buddy...and they are fine. Just don't get them up, around your face," the sergeant answered him back.

"Do I have hair...or is it burnt off," he asked again?

"They shaved your head...to keep the scalp from becoming infected. Don't know how to tell you this buddy...but every square inch of your body has been shaved."

"Was any part of my lower body burnt," Hank asked?

"Only your dick...and it was burned off."

"You ornery sack of shit...I've gotten a hard on several times when the nurses came through," he lied.

"Take it easy Chateau...I was just trying to shake you up a bit."

They both laughed...then changed the subject.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

Hank was surprised when Mr. Walker told him to take the train to the university. "It will do you good to get away for a few days Hank...and the windows aren't going to get that dirty for the next week. The rest of the things you do, will wait until you get back. Besides, after what Pete has done...he deserves your company for a week end."

"Mr. Walker, I'm not sure I know what you're talking about. What has he done..?"

"Why the way he came worked your job while you were recovering...and when I tried to pay him...he refused. Said to send the money to you. So I did."

When Hank left the store after completing his Wednesday evening routine, he went straight to the railway station and bought his ticket for the Friday train to Pete's. He was going to return the money that Pete had sacrificed to him.

. . . . . . . .

Friday evening could not get here fast enough. Hank packed as little as

as possible for his trip...and carried it all in a back pack. The train ride took three hours...and it was around 8:00 PM when Pete met him at the station.

"Good to see you Hank. The dorm is only about a four block walk. Let's go," Pete told him.

The university was decked out for a football game this week end. The school colors were exhibited everywhere. It seemed kind of festive and Hank forgot all about his intent to force Pete to take the money he had had Mr. Walker send to him.

"Did you eat before you caught your train," Pete asked.

"Naw...too excited to get underway."

"I haven't had anything to eat either. How about pizza at the University Pizza Place over by the stadium. We can walk it in about twenty minutes," Pete suggested. "But first, let's take your things to my dorm room. Tim is gone this week end. He went fishing with some of the conservation class students."

In the dorm room, Hank was surprised to find the room clean and orderly.

"You guy's sure keep the place looking good."

"Yeah, we like it that way. Some of the guys live in chaos...but you know...cluttered home...cluttered mind." They both laughed.

"Come on...let's go get some food...I'm suddenly really hungry, too," Pete said.

"Twenty minute walk you say?"

"Yeah, about... let's get going."

There was a lot of people out and about. They stopped to talk to several of Pete's classmates about the foot ball game coming up tomorrow evening. By the time they got to the Pizza Parlor...the place was beginning to fill up.

Pete started to pay the tab when they were finished, when Hank pushed the money to the cash register attendant.

Outside, as they walked back to the dorm, he thanked Pete for covering for him when he was recuperating from his fall at the Loggins home...and offered Pete an envelope with the money he had earned for substituting for him at the store. Pete would not accept it.

"Hank, friends do not expect to get paid for helping friends. Keep the money and use it for your own interests. I did what I did to help... and because I wanted to be a good friend," Pete said to him.

"You are a good friend, Pete...but I feel like I took advantage of your friendship," he answered back.

"Bull...you did nothing of the kind," Pete shot back at him. "Besides...I may need help from you sometime with something."

Pete looked at Hank and smiled. Putting his arm over Hanks shoulder... he said, "come on...let's get home."

Back in the dorm room, they kicked off their shoes and Pete took off his school sweater. He was bared chested underneath. The dorm was warm. Hank took off his shirt and tee shirt. They opened a couple of Cokes and grabbed some crackers and sat on the beds to talk.

"I'm glad you decided to come spend the week end with me. There are a lot of things to do with the ball game this weekend. Or...we can just hang out and talk," Pete said. He looked at Hank's eyes...and noticed that he was gazing back intensely.

"Pete...it was good of you to invite me. What's really on your mind."

"Well, with Tim gone for the week end...I thought we could just...hang out and get to know each other better," Pete responded.

"Like...just hang out and get to know each other better," Hank repeated.

"Yeah," Pete said...and a slow reddening of his face began to occur.

"Pete...you care if we crack a window...it sure is warm in here."

"Sure, it just cranks out there behind the curtain," Pete said.

Hank cranked the window on his side open...and Pete did the same with the window on his side...and then...sat down to make more small talk. The small clock on the table between the two dorm beds chirped. It was eleven o'clock.

"If this was a school night...the lights would have to be turned off by now," Pete said...sort of absent mindlessly.

"Well then," said Hank, " we can still turn them out. It will make the room cooler."

Pete got up and switched off the ceiling light at the switch by the door. When he turned around, instead of going to sit on his own bunk, he sat down facing Hank on his. In the dark, he reached out and took Hank's hand. Hank put his other hand on Pete's shoulder...and moved it up and down his upper arm to the elbow and back. Neither said a word...just looked into each other's face and hoped they were not each misreading the feelings, of the other.

Pete touched the side of Hank's face with the palm of his hand and moved upward and ran his fingers through his hair. Hank always loved it when Tom did that to him...and he leaned forward for better access. Pete let his hand move down the back of Hank's neck and squeezed his muscles there. Hank sort of sighed a little. He raised his head and looked into Pete's face. He was deep in thought as he moved his hands over Hank's face.

"You have a very nice face, Hank."

Hank laughed. " I always thought I had an ugly face...and when I had acne...some of the bullies called me `prick face and fag face'...all kinds of mean things. Tom taught me how to take care of my face and bought me the skin meds that helped clear it up," he whispered.

"I think it is a nice face," Pete said. " I think everything about you is nice."

He leaned toward Hank and wanted to kiss him...but was unsure if that would fly with Hank...so he leaned forward and waited for him to make the next move. Hank leaned forward towards Pete...and their lips connected and held there for a moment. Each backed up and smiled... and leaned forward again and connected.

They held the pose for what seemed liked minutes. As they backed up and again looked into each other's eyes...Pete said, " I have never done anything like this before Hank. But from the night that I slept next to you in my room and had to wake you up every hour...I felt something really special about you. I wanted to know more about you'...I wanted to know you'...like..."

"I get it Pete. I wanted the same thing."

Hank stood up and took his jeans off..and then his socks...and because Pete was reaching out to him...he turned and let him grope him for a minute before pulling his boxers off. Pete stood up and Hank, unfastened his belt buckle and then unzipped his fly. The jeans dropped to the floor. Pete stepped out of them...and Hank felt his credentials thorough his briefs before taking hold of the waist and pulling them to the ground.

Hank put his hand under Pete's balls and fondled them. Pete leaned his head against Hank's shoulder and just sighed heavily. Hank moved up to his shaft which was climbing by the second. Pete was uncircumcised...but as the sensitivity increased with the shaft movement...he was quickly at full mast and the foreskin pulled back tightly against his shaft. Hank moved his fingers lightly all over his cock and then back down on the balls. Pete was frozen...in a moment of high intensity satisfaction.

"I have never had anyone do that before...and it is just indescribable."

Pete put his arms around Hank and held him close. It was like he could just not get close enough.

"Lay down on the bed, Pete," Hank said to him. He lay back quickly and Hank ran his fingers all over his chest, abdomen and groin. It was when he grabbed his dick... that Pete began to tremble. Hank moved to the foot of the bed and lay down between his legs...and ran his tongue over his balls and cock. Pete threw his head back as far as it would go and just groaned. Taking Pete's dick in his hand, he put his lips over his shaft and started downward.

"Oh my god," Pete shouted...and he hunched upward. Every time Hank sucked downward on his cock, Pete would push up...and in an instant...he pulled out. "If you had done that one more time...I would have given you a mouthful of cum."

"Trade me places, Hank," he said. Hank lay down on the bed and Pete moved to the bottom of the bed. He mirrored what Hank had done to him a few minutes earlier. Hank being a veteran player...did not react quite as sensitive, but it felt good. When Pete got ready to go down on him...he pulled back.

"Hank, I want to suck you...but this is something I never dreamed of ever doing to another guy. I am not sure I am ready for it yet," He stammered.

"You don't have to Pete. If it happens, it will happen when you are ready," He said. "Just come lay down next to me and let me hold you in my arms.

The skin to skin contact felt good. Hank massaged his back and then his butt, he played with his ass and tickled his sphincter. At one point he had Pete up on his hands and knees and massaged his sphincter with a petroleum cream. Pete was like melted butter. He started leaking pre-cum in copious amounts...and several times had to ask Hank to quit so that he did not ejaculate all over them both.

The night became early morning and then the sun began to crack the horizon. They had touched each other, and massaged each other all night. Hank had inserted his finger into Pete's colon and massaged his prostate gland...causing him to loose all control of his ability to hold back. He had an orgasm so intense that he ejaculated all over himself and the sheets. They blotted the sheets with a towel as best they could...and lay in each other's arm.

"I need some sleep for now...Pete said to Hank...and each climbed onto his own bed and dozed for a few hours. At breakfast...they obviously had not slept enough.

"Hey Pete...you stay up all night again, watching porn? You look dead to the world," a class mate called to him. Pete laughed and shook his head yes and then put his fingers to his lips for him not to spread the word. Of course he knew they would. And he grinned.

The boys went around to campus activities and to a school barbecue at noon. Afterwards, they went back to the dorm and slept until dinner hour. Although not completely recovered...they looked better than they had looked at breakfast. Supper was at a local steak house at the edge of campus...and then to the foot ball game. The opposing team played poorly and the university team won the meet 32 to 10. The game was over by 10PM and the revelers took to the streets and

sidewalks with a lot of whoops, shouts and cheers. There would be parties all over town .

Hank and Pete, however, were too weary to party very long...and they slipped away a little after midnight and made their way back to the dorm. They slipped into a couple of bath robes that Pete and Tim had hanging in the closet and went to the shower room to clean up. There was no one else in the showers...and for a brief few minutes...they washed each other down and played in the shower. It was a dangerous adventure...and realizing that luck had been with them...they quickly toweled off and returned to the room...where they both chucked the robes and crawled into bed together.

They had every intention of picking up where they had left off last night...but sleep got the best of them...and the next morning at 6:00 AM they were still wrapped up in each other's arms.

Pete reached up and closed the shades and pulled the curtains to reduce the light. He looked over at Hank and leaned down to kiss him on the lips. They embraced and held for a long time, lightly caressing each other. He then raised up and scooted to the foot of the bed until he was eye level to Hank's groin and took his tongue and ran it along the bottom seam of his scrotum and up his dick. Hank sighed heavily.

"Good, huh," he said?

"Yes," Pete responded.

Pete then ran his tongue over and around the head of Hank's cock and then slid down over it with his lips. At first he gagged and then he tried again...and gagged...but did not give up. He pulled off, licked his lips and went down on him again. This time he did not gag. As his saliva became heavier...his sucking became easier. He ran his tongue lower again across the testicles and then lower to the indentation of his rectum. He grabbed a "wet wipe" from the bed side table and ran it across the intended area. All clear...and proceeded. The alcohol base of the wipe satisfied his concern for bacteria...and teased and tickled Hank's orifice until his breathing had escalated considerably. Taking some lotion on the table...he applied a healthy amount to that affected area and pushed his finger in...waited for the shock to pass...and went deeper. With his longest finger next to Hank's prostate, he made little

circular motions and taps on it.

Hank was beginning to gyrate to the touch. He looked at Pete and repeated over and over: "don't stop...please don't stop."

Hank began to drool pre-cum which Pete licked off. It was sweet tasting.

"Hank, I am going to pull out for a minute. When I do, I want you to quickly get up on your hands and knees facing the window."

Quickly, they changed their positions. Hank was on his hands and knees and Pete was behind him. He lubed his own dick and started to insert it into Hanks rectum. Easily he slipped it in...and Hank made no protestations. Obviously this was a guy who had been guy fucked before. Pete pushed in as far as it would go...and started alternating between pushing in and pulling half way out. The internal massaging of Hank's prostate brought intense and instant sensations.

"Hank," Pete whispered, " I never dreamed this could feel so good. I have jerked off many times and thought that was out of this world...but this has that beat all to hell.

As Pete pulled back...Hank would thrust back at him and force his cock back into the depths of it's chamber. After five or six minutes, Hank was leaking seminal fluid profusely. His dick was as hard as Pete's was within him.

"Hank...is it OK if I fill you up," Pete asked...hoping he would say yes.

"Sure is...let me have it," he answered back.

A couple more thrusts and Pete ejaculated one of his biggest loads ever into Hank. The reciprocating motion against Hank's prostate had also taken it's toll...as Hank had an involuntary ejaculation himself...without Pete having touched his cock.

"Quick," said Pete, " raise up on your knees and lean back against me."

Pete took more of the lotion and started stroking Hanks cock. The sensation was good. He wanted to cum again...and was close but not quite there. Pete took his other hand and inserted his longest finger into Hank's ass...and that was the trigger that brought a second orgasm...as intense as the first. Despite their fatigue...both collapsed on top of each other...and became smeared in semen.

They again donned the bath robes and went back to the showers to freshen up. After laying around a few minutes to cool off and to caress each other...they dressed and went to breakfast.

Hank's train would leave for home at 11:00 AM. He and Pete would return to Pete's room one more time to repeat the morning act only this time...Hank drilled Pete and gave him some sensations that were almost indescribable.

Pete walked Hank to the train station. His train was waiting. It would leave in about ten minutes.

"Thanks for coming up here to see me, Hank. It was the best week end I have had since I was home last to take care of you."

"That reminds me Pete...I want you to take the envelope of money that I owe you and use it for something you want to do...like coming home to see me over a week end...sometime real soon," Hank had said as they shook hands on the platform. He would like to have kissed him good by...but with so many on the platform...it would have been real awkward. "I know you kept saying that you would not...so while you were in the shower...I hid it in your room. You'll find it after I have left for home."

"Really Hank...can't you let me be a cheerful giver," he said with a big smile.

"Depends on what you want to give," he answered back with his eye brows raised.

Pete grabbed him and gave him a big bear hug...and said," better get on the train...they are going to pull out any second."

They continued to wave as the train got farther away...until they could no longer see each other. This had been a great week end...but it had passed too fast...and as the train got closer to home, it took on a dream like quality. That night, back in his room, as Hank unpacked his back pack...he found the white envelope that he had hid in Pete's room...folded and laying in his extra pair of boxer shorts. It had written upon it... "I knew this would be the safest hiding place because you are always loath to put on underwear. I had a great time...looking forward to coming to see you at home...real soon. Love you buddy. Pete."

On Monday, the surgeon returned to see Tom. "We are going to check the vision again Tom. You will be light—sensitive when we remove the gauze...so close your eyes and try to open them slowly when I tell you to," he told him.

Slowly the bandages were unwound...but to everyone's surprise...there was no significant changes in Tom's vision. The graduations of light that he could see before were now all gray.

"You tried to tell me doc...so now it looks like I have some adjusting to do," Tom said to him.

"Tom...don't give up the ship yet. You see gray now...but it is possible the light will return. Remember, I told you that it could take an extensive period of time."

"How extensive Doc? Twenty or thirty years?"

"Can't say Tom...we'll have to wait and see," the Doc told him. " It's just a matter of..."

"Yeah, I know...being patient," Tom said in a mocking tone.

The surgeon put some drops in his eyes and replace the bandages with fresh.

"Where do we go from here, Doc."

Well Tom...you are going home. If it takes a year or more...you will need to be back home with your people. I am recommending a specialist back in the states...not too far from where your family lives. Your files will be sent on to him...and he will continue where we have left off. A staff member will be in later today to see you about the arrangements.

That afternoon, after the specialist came to see him, Tom asked his friend Sergeant Brown to write another letter to his brother Maurice and family and to instruct them on what the plan of action would be in retrieving him from his flight back to home.

Two weeks later...Tom was placed on a military flight for home with other wounded veterans...and given an honorable medical discharge.