Biker ) [ 40 ! ?? ]
The Old Valley Road Hotel.
By Wombat. ------------------------- Any constructive comments are appreciated. I'm at 'bungala_wombat@yahoo.com.au'. ------------------------------------
Chapter 5 part 5.
------------------------------------ Part 40: Port Germein. ------------------------------------
One fine hot summer afternoon Derek and Fox went for a ride on their motorbikes. They took the back road from the Community to Port Germein, which is on Spencer Gulf not far from Port Pirie. The two Roadknights had great fun speeding on their bikes down along the twisting winding road through Port Germein Gorge. Fox had mastered easily the art of riding a motorcycle. One concept he had mastered was that of 'superstick'. He made his bike tyres have infinite friction. They could not slip. His bike swept around corners as if it were on rails. The road followed the course of the creek that ran through the gorge down to the sea at Port Germein.
Derek had bought Fox a second-hand Kawasaki ZZR1100 motorcycle from Peter. It was in excellent condition. Fox was rapt. He had long wanted a superbike like the big four-cylinder Kwakka. He was full of gratitude for Derek's generosity.
Both Derek and Fox were wearing black leather sleeveless jackets emblazoned with the insignia of the Roadknights. They were also wearing black leather pants and biker boots.
Ahead of them was a Mitsubishi Magna with Victorian numberplates towing a caravan. The driver was proceeding slowly because he did not know the road.
Derek and Fox telepathically checked that the winding road ahead was clear and went fanging past the car and caravan at speed. The peace of the Magna driver and his wife was shattered by the roar of the motorbikes echoing from the rock walls of the gorge.
"Damned lunatics," opined the wife.
"Hope those two bloody bikies kill themselves," muttered the driver.
Fox grinned at Derek as he caught the thoughts of the couple in the car.
<< Faint hope! >> Fox was invincible and invulnerable. He revelled in being a superman.
They continued burning down the road until they reached National Highway One. They travelled a short distance along it then turned right at the turnoff to Port Germein.
The town of Port Germein boasts the longest jetty in Australia and perhaps the Southern Hemisphere as well as a population of about 200 people. In the summer holidays the population increases considerably. It is a quiet, almost sleepy seaside town. It boasts a fine hotel in the main street and a number of nice stone nineteenth century houses.
Derek and Fox rode down the main street to the seafront. The famous jetty stretched out across the tidal flats and the shallow water towards the horizon.
Derek and Fox parked their bikes near the seashore. They walked out along the jetty. On the way they passed a sign that told them it was 1532 meters (5026 feet) long. Once it was well over a mile (1600 metres) long but it was rebuilt to the shorter length after being severely damaged in a storm.
As the two strolled out along the jetty the summer sun shone hot upon their black bike leathers. Both wore aviator-style sunglasses. Derek's mop of dark brown hair blew in the sea breeze and hung over his forehead. Fox's blond hair was short.
Nobody else was in sight. Most people had retreated indoors out of the summer heat.
Derek and Fox reached the end of the jetty. Here the water was moderately deep. It was a long way from the shore.
Derek stood at the end of jetty with his hands on the railing. He looked out across the water at the giant 200-metre (600-foot) chimneystack of the lead-zinc smelter at Port Pirie.
Fox stood back and admired Derek. Derek's mighty arms bulged with veined hard muscle as his hands gripped the railing. Derek's huge biceps bulged splendidly. His triceps formed horseshoes of hard muscle. They were huge. To Fox, Derek was an ultra handsome, huge, hot hunk of muscle. He admired Derek's powerfully muscled, sharply chiselled chest with the round bulging pectorals, his thick, heavily muscled arms, his magnificent black-leather-clad thighs and perfectly rounded and muscular buttocks.
Derek smiled at him. Fox came up behind him and put his arms around his waist. He ran his hands up and down the hard, mountainous ridges of muscle at the front of Derek's abdomen. He rubbed his face over the back of Derek's neck, then licked it. Derek rumbled with pleasure.
Fox: << You're so hot and strong! Black leather really does things to me, especially when you're in them, Derek, you great big hot handsome hunk of muscle. >>
Feeling Fox rub his hands over his torso got Derek feeling horny. His cock stiffened. It went rock hard instantly when Fox rubbed his hand over it through the black leather of his pants.
Fox was feeling really horny too. He wanted to fuck Derek right there and then at the end of the jetty. Derek liked the idea very much.
Fox undid Derek's belt buckle, unzipped his pants and slipped them down over his perfect bubble butt. He freed Derek's enormous ramrod stiff penis and scooped out his big avocado-sized balls. He delighted in running his hand up and down the steel hard shaft of the penis. Derek groaned with delight.
Fox removed Derek's jacket as well as his own and hung them both over the jetty railings. Now all of Derek's torso was available to Fox. He relished running his hands over Derek's torso, shoulders and arms feeling the powerful muscles under the silky smooth skin. He rubbed his front over Derek's muscular back. He massaged and tweaked Derek's nipples. Derek went into a frenzy of sexual excitement.
He undid his own belt buckle, unzipped his pants and liberated his own huge aching stiff penis. It was a monster. It was forty centimetres (16 inches) long and as thick as a coke can, the same size as Derek's cock which was poking through the railings over the water. It was indeed a cock befitting a superman. Fox was as proud as a peacock of his cock.
He ran his hands over the smooth muscular curve of Derek's buttocks revelling in their hardness. He poked his penis in between Derek's thick, hard and muscular thighs and thrust in a few times. The sensation was almost overwhelming.
He bent his knees and probed around for Derek's arsehole with his cock head. He quickly found it and pushed his cock head against the anus. Both he and Derek had switched on small repulsive force fields that made their skins feel deliciously well lubricated. Derek had done the same inside his anus.
Derek's anus opened up readily and Fox thrust the full length of his mighty cock into Derek's arsehole up into the depths of Derek's bowels. Derek moaned in blissful pleasure. It was wonderful to feel Fox's long thick cock filling him up inside so completely. The huge penis reached up through the core of his torso to under his rib cage just below his heart. It was sheer bliss to feel Fox's mighty cock inside him. Fox's strong hands held Derek tightly around his muscular waist.
Fox withdrew almost the whole length of his penis and thrust it back in again. He continued thrusting in and out of Derek's arsehole with long sweeping strokes. He thrust his cock into Derek's torso so deep that it reached up to just under Derek's rib cage. Derek groaned with rapturous delight.
Fox revelled in the sensations that he was creating in Derek. He kept on pumping his cock vigorously into Derek. His mind received Derek's blissful sensations loud and clear. He locked down his orgasm determined to give Derek a truly excellent fuck at the end of the jetty.
Derek threw back his head and roared. His whole body tensed. His huge hard muscles bulged out all over. Orgasmic bliss exploded deep within his groin from around Fox's mighty cock thrusting right up through his anus into his torso. The pressure in his huge aching balls was released. The muscles in his groin contracted. Hot semen boiled out from deep within him and gushed out of his huge hard twitching cock. Long white ropes of his semen flew in a long arc down to the seawater.
Fox continued thrusting his mighty superman-sized cock up into Derek's arsehole with great enthusiasm. This intensified Derek's orgasm even more. Derek delighted in feeling Fox's huge cock pumping deep up inside his bowels while his huge shuddering orgasm continued. Fox's thick muscular arms bulged powerfully as they held Derek tightly around the waist.
Derek's orgasm went on and on while Fox kept on thrusting into him with superhuman stamina. Fox was really enjoying the sensations flooding into him. Derek's arsehole was a most wonderful fuck hole. The muscles of Derek's anus gripped Fox's penis firmly, while further up inside Derek's torso it felt wonderfully soft, slippery and velvety around Fox's eagerly thrusting cock. Derek was totally blissed out.
Derek's semen kept gushing out in white arcs down to the water below.
Seagulls gathered. They wheeled and swooped in graceful aerobatic manoeuvres and gobbled up the gobs of semen flying through the air. They squawked and squabbled with loud raucous cries as they fought to grab a beakful of Derek's semen before it hit the water and sank out of sight. Some bolder seagulls came in close to Derek's spurting cock and grabbed a gob of semen almost as soon as it squirted out of Derek's cock.
Fox released the block on his orgasm. His whole body tensed. He thrust his penis as far as it could go up Derek's anus into Derek's magnificent body. His groin exploded. He gave a loud cry. His hot semen boiled up out of his groin and squirted under pressure deep into the core of Derek's powerful, heavily muscular torso right up under Derek's rib cage. Derek's heart pounded against Fox's cock head. Fox hung onto Derek's body with his powerful arms with all his strength. He was in raptures with his long fat cock thrust deep into the robust body of his lover and teacher.
They remained locked together in orgasmic bliss at the end of the jetty. Their sensations flooded back and forth between their linked minds intensifying their bliss. Their orgasms combined into a pillar of fire and continued on and on.
Three men in a boat approached. They had been fishing out in Spencer Gulf and they had run out of beer. Their fishing expedition had been moderately successful. They had been watching Derek and Fox fucking at the end of the jetty for some time.
One of the men had a digital camera with a telephoto lens. He was busily taking photographs of the two magnificently muscular men locked in an orgasmic embrace at the end of the jetty. He liked very much the huge bulging muscles of their tremendously powerful physiques. He relished Derek's thick rounded plates of pectoral muscles and the splendid curve of the two lover's bulging biceps.
All three of the men were highly amused by the flock of seagulls wheeling and squabbling over Derek's gushing semen. They were amazed that Derek could produce so much semen for such a long time.
When the aluminium dinghy or tinny passed the end of the jetty, the three men in it whistled and cheered raucously.
Derek and Fox were partially aware of their audience through the clamour of their melded orgasm. The loud appreciation of the three men in the boat spurred them on in their orgasmic tumult.
The tinny motored towards the shore. Derek and Fox continued on locked together in their orgasmic rapture. Derek thought it was a wonderful thing to have Fox's huge twitching spurting penis embedded deep inside him. Fox thought it was wonderful to have his cock fully embedded inside Derek's hugely muscled body.
Finally their combined orgasm came to an end. They remained together with Fox's cock up Derek's arse relishing the golden post orgasmic glow as the sun sank towards the western horizon. It had been a truly excellent fuck.
As the sun sank lower and the heat lessened, the two became aware of people starting to come out of their houses. Soon people would be coming onto the jetty to fish or just go for a walk. Derek and Fox separated reluctantly. They tucked themselves back in, zipped up their pants, picked up their jackets and walked slowly back to the shore along the jetty. They waved to several groups of people making their way out along the jetty. Some carried fishing rods and other fishing paraphernalia. Others had small dogs on leads.
When Derek and Fox reached the shore, the fishermen in the dinghy had long gone. Derek and Fox mounted their bikes and rode away through the town back to Mount Remarkable.
A little time later, CD-ROMs containing photographs of two hulking big handsome and powerfully muscled bikers in sunglasses and black leather pants and boots fucking at the end of the Port Germein jetty started discretely appearing around the district. They bobbed up in towns like Melrose, Murray Town, Wilmington, Wirrabara, Booleroo Centre, Crystal Brook, Laura, Gladstone, and of course, Port Germein. A normal friend of Hal from Melrose gave Hal a copy and asked if he knew the two men. Hal said he did not. Later he took great delight in showing Derek and Fox the photographs. It had been a celebratory fuck indeed.
Fox was well liked in the Mount Remarkable Community. He and Derek remained lovers. However, Derek was quite happy when Fox had sex with other members of the community. After all, Derek was not short of lovers himself.
Fox thought several times about his mate Chainsaw whom he had left behind in Adelaide. Fox wanted to recruit him. He followed his time line back to the time that they were last together and he tagged him. He could monitor Chainsaw telepathically now.
He knew from Derek about the four old men in the Duke of Wellington Hotel. One of them wanted to see Fox exterminated by a death squad. Derek was determined to show the old man up. He wanted the old man to see what a superb specimen of manhood Fox had become. Derek wanted the old man to regret his words.
One of Derek's friends was Louis, or Lou, Joad, who hailed from Kansas in the United States. He was a former student of Hal and he was about as big as Hal. He had joined more than two years ago.
Derek and Fox rode with Lou down to Adelaide from Melrose. They burned down the winding road through the Port Germein Gorge and turned south along National Highway One. It was a single carriageway all the way to just north of Port Wakefield. They passed Snowtown and Bumbunga Lake. After Port Wakefield they enjoyed speeding south along the excellent dual carriageway of the Port Wakefield Road and passed towns like Wild Horse Plains, Windsor, Dublin, Lower Light and Two Wells.
They used their telepathic sense to look out for police. One police officer had taken up station just past Wild Horse Plains. Derek, Fox and Lou had slowed down to a respectable 110 kilometres per hour (70 mph) when they detected him. However, the police officer sighted his laser speed-detection gun on the three bikers as soon as he saw them. They cruised past at 109 kph. A Range-Rover came up behind them quickly and sped past them. The policeman locked the laser onto the Range-Rover and clocked the four-wheel-drive at 131 kph (82 mph), 21 kph over the speed limit. Immediately he jumped on his motorcycle and chased off after the speeding Range-Rover. He pulled the Range-Rover over several miles down the highway. The middle-aged driver was very hot and bothered. Derek, Fox and Lou cruised past on the speed limit. They were cool. They were very cool, so cool that butter would not melt in their mouths.
Adelaide is about 100 kilometres (60 miles) south of Port Wakefield.
The three bikers reached the community house at Norwood and stayed the night.
Derek and Fox had an excellent fuck that night. They lay in each other's arms enjoying the feel of their bodies against each other and the roseate post-coital afterglow. Derek's penis was still erect up Fox's anus. Fox loved it and feeling Derek's arms around him. He was blissfully happy as he lay languorously against Derek.
Derek nuzzled Fox's golden hair. He loved the smell of Fox.
A strange birdcall came from the apricot trees outside the bedroom window. Derek had not heard it before, certainly not in New South Wales. It sounded like the mechanical clown that he once had when he was a small boy twenty years ago. It made a similar noise to the bird after he had dropped it and it did that ever after until it was thrown away by his mother.
Derek was curious about what the bird was.
Fox giggled as he read Derek's thoughts.
Fox: << That's the fuck-me-stupid bird. We often get them around here. >>
Derek: <+ ? +>
<< 'Fuck me stupid' is one of Chainsaw's sayings. He often says that. The bird seems to say that too. That's why I call it the fuck-me- stupid bird. And you sure have fucked me stupid. >>
Fox remembered when he and his street kid mates were squatting in a house scheduled for demolition. It has already been ransacked. However, it was a roof over their heads. Fox formed the image in his mind of Chainsaw saying "Fuck me stupid". Chainsaw was a wiry brown- haired kid about the same age as Fox but he was a lot taller and stronger than Fox. He looked after Fox. They heard the bird in the old fruit trees in the back yard. Fox laughed when he heard the bird singing "Fuck me stupid" like a mechanical toy. He named it the fuck- me-stupid bird. The others laughed too.
Fox loved being fucked by Derek. He loved having Derek's cock up his arse. As he put it, he loved being fucked stupid by Derek. He twisted around and kissed Derek on the lips. He ran his hands gently through Derek's hair. They had already had lots of sex that night. They did not really want any more but they were full of love for one another.
Fox referring to the bird as the fuck-me-stupid bird caused a ripple of amusement around the Norwood House. Some people identified it as a wattlebird common in South Australia. It had a noisy call.
They spend a couple of days riding around Adelaide exploring the city. Lou came with them. He had lived in Adelaide and knew it well.
The day came that Fox was going to find Chainsaw and try to recruit him. He loved Derek. He loved being with him. But he wanted Chainsaw too. He and Derek had a wonderful fuck the previous night. It was the last night that Derek and Fox would spend together before Chainsaw. There was an air of sweet regret about the end of one phase of their relationship and the impending start of another.
Fox and Derek had decided that Fox would approach the gang of street kids alone. They were very suspicious of strangers. All of them had been hurt by predators, some badly. They did not trust anyone outside their group. Fox would recruit them on his own. Derek would play a supporting role. Hal and the others fully agreed with the approach.
In any case, the time for Derek's departure for New South Wales was drawing near. It was likely that he would have too little time to uplift one of Fox's friends to supermanhood. It would be difficult for someone else to take over part way through, even Fox.
Derek had already telepathically tagged the four old men at the Duke of Wellington Hotel. He passed the tags to Fox. He and Fox knew when the old men arrived at the hotel for lunch. They decided to give the men a little time and join them afterwards.
It was a hot summer's day. Derek and Fox rode to the Duke of Wellington Hotel on The Parade, Norwood. They parked their bikes in the side street next to the hotel and walked in through the main entrance. The old men did not see them.
Fox was distracted by the games room where all the poker machines were situated. There was a cacophony of banal tunes emanating from the poker machines. In the room several older women were playing the poker machines. He went in. Derek followed reluctantly.
Fox was fascinated. As a very young-looking street kid he had always been thrown out of the games rooms of hotels previously. Now that he was a big, broad-shouldered and very handsome young muscleman, no one was concerned by his presence. The young woman playing the role of cashier and barmaid simpered at Fox and Derek from the bar. The women playing the machines ignored them. They concentrated on their games.
Derek wanted to get out of the room. He hated it. The women playing the machines were like automatons. To Derek, they seemed stripped of their humanity. Mick Wray had described them as like rats in Skinner boxes. Derek had to agree. One young woman caught his attention. She was praying to God to let her win The Big One. Her financial situation was desperate. She had wasted a lot of money on the poker machines. What was tragic was that The Big One was worth only $10,000, nowhere near enough to pay off her debts.
Fox looked around the room. His curiosity was sated. He felt uncomfortable seeing fellow humans trapped in a miserable, pointless and meaningless existence. When Derek indicated his desire to leave, Fox followed him out willingly.
Immediately they entered the front bar, the two very handsome and powerfully built bikers became the focus of all eyes. Both sported sleeveless blue denim jackets emblazoned with the Roadknights insignia. Both wore blue denim jeans and black leather biker boots.
The bar was about half full of older men and women of retiring age. Some were having drinks in between sessions on the poker machines. Others were just being there and having a few quiet drinks.
Everyone stared at the two bikers, especially the blond one. Both of them were gorgeous but the blond one seemed to be the better looking of the two. He had short blond hair with sideburns down to bottoms of his ears. He was a fantastic looking and spectacularly muscular young man with bright blue eyes and dark eyebrows. The dark haired one was almost as handsome. He was a little more solidly muscular in build.
Derek bought himself and Fox a pint of beer each at the bar. He looked around the bar and saw the four old men sitting in their usual spot on bar stools around a table next to a window well away from the bar. Each had a schooner (glass) of beer in front of him.
With their glasses of been in their hands, Derek and Fox walked across the bar to the old men. Derek smiled.
He introduced Fox to Alby, Bob, Charlie and Des, otherwise known as Alpha, Bravo, Charlie and Delta. They welcomed Derek and were mightily impressed by his extraordinarily beautiful blond friend with the huge muscles.
Bob started the ball rolling.
"Is this the fellow we saw sitting on your bike the other day, Derek?" he asked.
The old men's recollections of Fox had become a little blurry. They did not realise that Fox had been so small back then and how much bigger he had become since then. Fox had grown 30 centimetres (one foot) in height and had gained 95 kilograms (210 lb.) in weight. He had more than quadrupled his weight. He was 125 kilograms (275 Lb.) and 185 centimetres (6'1") of solid muscle.
Derek was thankful for the old men's fuzzy recollections. He did not have to perform the tricky task of manipulating their memories. At least he had Fox to help him and Fox was good at it.
Fox's bulky jacket back then helped to disguise his small size from the old men.
"Yes," replied Derek. "He is."
"I say, he's quite a specimen, isn't he," commented Bob.
"He certainly is a magnificent specimen of Australian manhood," declared Alby.
"He sure is," agreed Derek amiably. "I took him for a spin up into the Adelaide Hills. But I did not take your advice, Alby. I did not strangle him and dump his body somewhere. Instead, I recruited him into the Roadknights and trained him up. And here he is today."
Fox chuckled. His smile lit up the old men's hearts. They were entranced by his beauty, particularly his bright blue eyes.
Charlie grinned. Des coughed to hide his smirk. They knew that Derek was going to have a go at Alby.
"You have done an excellent job with Fox," said Alby.
"Thank you," replied Derek. "We're in the business of making silk purses out of sows' ears. Fox has been an excellent student. It is a lot better way than killing people off because they're deemed undesirable."
"I've no doubt that you fellows do an excellent job," said Alby. "However, people who have no useful function in society should be got rid of. You people do what you can, but it is not possible for you to clean all the riffraff off the streets using your methods. It is far more efficient to clean them up by getting rid of them, even if we do have to kill them off."
"I disagree with that strongly. Exterminating people is totally wrong. It is definitely not a solution," replied Derek. "Murdering people, particularly with death squads, strikes at the very foundations of civilised society."
"What would you do if some death squad decided that real estate agents were a blot upon society and had to be got rid of?" asked Fox with a cheeky grin.
Charlie and Bob chuckled. Des smirked into his beer glass.
"They wouldn't do a thing like that," protested Alby.
"Why not?" asked Charlie with a grin.
"Well, they wouldn't," spluttered Alby.
Derek said: "If there are going to be guidelines set down as to who is and who isn't acceptable in society, there would have to be some central authority. That means the government would have to be involved. The government would have to permit these killings. However, the right to life is the fundamental glue that holds society together. You remove that and we descend into barbarism. If you have armed gangs killing people who become homeless through bad luck, for instance, they've been down-sized, say, then those potential victims will very likely arm themselves and fight back. Next thing you know we'll be having street battles all over the place. There'll be fighting everywhere. Lots of people will get killed. Civilised society will fall apart."
"Oh, I'm not so sure of that," replied Alby. "Society is pretty robust, I think. Look, you people do a great job turning riffraff into decent citizens. I can see that and I'd like to do something to help."
He fished his chequebook out of his pocket and wrote out a cheque for five hundred dollars. He handed it to Derek.
"Thank you," said Derek. "It will come in useful. I hope most fervently though that we never do see death squads roaming the streets of Australian cities."
Bob thought that Alby got off lightly. He did not say anything.
Charlie had a wry smile on his face. He was thinking about what Derek had said. He intended to use Derek's arguments again later.
Derek could see that Alby was very fixed in his ideas. He knew that no amount of rational argument would change them. He would just be wasting his breath if he tried. He could use his telepathic tools like mind glyphs to change Alby's mind but it would be a difficult task. What was the point? Alby was an old man. It was hard for him to change his opinions. It was all very well for Alby and Charlie to have endless arguments in the pub but they were retired gentlemen. They had all the time in the world. Derek had better things to do.
"What are you going to do now, Fox?" asked Des.
"Find my mates on the streets around Adelaide, recruit them into the Roadknights and train them up like Derek has trained me," answered Fox.
"Very good," approved Charlie. "It's an excellent idea to train your mates up into becoming magnificent young men like you."
Des and Bob agreed. They looked at Fox appreciatively.
"Is Fox your real name, or is it a nickname?" asked Alby.
"It's my real name."
"Unusual," commented Alby.
"My mother liked the name. I don't remember why. I don't mind it myself."
Alby was looking at Fox with a faraway look in his eyes. Derek could see that Alby was rapt in Fox's masculine beauty. However, the sight of Fox was stirring up deeper resonances in Alby's mind.
Derek pinged the resonating memories in Alby's mind and was surprised to see tears roll down Alby's wrinkled old cheeks as the memories surged into consciousness. Fox reminded Alby of someone he knew and loved during World War II.
Bob put his arm solicitously around Alby's shoulders.
"You OK, mate?" he enquired.
"Yeah, I s'pose," replied Alby. "I can't help it but Fox just reminds me of Flight Lieutenant Chambers. I can't help feeling a bit miserable when I think of him."
The other old men nodded knowingly. Bob told Fox and Derek an abbreviated version of the story but the two telepaths soon pieced together the whole story.
Flight Lieutenant Denis Chambers was a very handsome and dashing blond fighter pilot who flew Spitfires with the Royal Australian Air Force during World War II. He was a strongly built young man with a splendid physique. He had been a fine sportsman. He had made a powerful impression on the young airmen, especially Alby. The eighteen-year-old Alby had fallen in love with Chambers. It was a love from afar, totally unrequited. Alby hungered after any look, any acknowledgment that he existed from Flight Lieutenant Chambers. They were few and far between. Officers were not supposed to fraternise with the ranks, particularly lowly airmen. Even so, Alby used to follow Flight Lieutenant Chambers around the airbase. He just wanted to feast his eyes on the gloriously handsome fighter pilot with the big muscles. Some of the other airmen teased Alby about his infatuation with Chambers.
Flight Lieutenant Chambers was considered to be a fighter ace. He had shot down quite a lot of Japanese aircraft. He had been awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross.
Charlie pointed out that most of the aircraft Chambers had shot down were unarmed Japanese transport planes off the north coast of New Guinea. That did not diminish Alby's hero worship.
One day the Japanese commander in the area decided to get rid of the Spitfire pilots who were making a thorough nuisance of themselves. Chambers flew into the area with his group of six Spitfires. When he arrived, he found his group surrounded by Japanese Zeroes. Alby reckoned sixty; the others' estimates ranged from between two dozen to fifty. In any case, Chambers' group was hopelessly outnumbered.
In the dogfight Flight Lieutenant Chambers shot down quite a few Japanese fighters. However, he was shot down. When he bailed out of his burning fighter and was floating down towards the New Guinea jungle under his parachute, some of the Japanese fighter pilots machine-gunned the helpless pilot under his parachute. He died. Only two of the other Spitfires survived the Japanese onslaught and made it back home.
Alby was overwhelmed with grief and anger when he heard the news. He had kept it bottled up inside himself because he did not dare show his true feelings. His mates would have teased him mercilessly. He took his anger out as an air gunner shooting down Japanese aircraft from the Liberator bomber he flew in.
His hero worship of Chambers still lived on after more than fifty-five years. Fox reminded Alby very much of Flight Lieutenant Denis Chambers. The memories flooded back. Alby snuffled tearfully into his beer glass.
It was clear to both Derek and Fox that the effort involved in persuading Alby to recant his view about exterminating feral street kids and other undesirables was not worth the small victory. Some of the admiration Alby had for Flight Lieutenant Chambers flowed over onto Fox. Alby smiled appreciatively at Fox. He liked Fox very much.
Fox: << Don't bother, mate. He's not worth you getting all steamed up about it. I appreciate your concern, dearest hunky lover man, but really, it's not worth it. I don't need vindication, certainly not to him. Look. He's half nuts about me as it is. Anyhow, I'm a big boy now, with big muscles. I can look after myself. >>
Derek had to concur.
Alby looked at Fox. His eyes were wide with longing. He considered that Fox was the most beautiful man he had ever seen.
Derek tried another tactic. He reached into Alby's mind and telepathically conflated the engrams of Fox and Flight Lieutenant Denis Chambers together.
Alby now saw Fox as the living reincarnation of his long lost Flight Lieutenant Chambers whom he had loved so much. Alby knew that it would be a love forever unrequited.
Bashfully he complimented Fox on his magnificent muscles. Fox knew what Derek had done and why. He obligingly flexed his arm. His 23- inch (59-cm.) biceps rose up into a spectacular peak. He invited Alby to feel it.
The old man ran his hand over the hard, veined and chiselled bulging mass. He delighted in feeling the rock hard mountain of muscle belonging to the beautiful blue-eyed golden-haired god-like young man. It was something he had been wanting to do for more than fifty-five years. Now he was satisfied. He was happy. He blissfully ran his hands over Fox's upper arm bulging with muscle. He revelled in the feel of all that hard young muscle.
Fox put his arm around Alby's shoulders. The old airman cuddled into him. His eyes filled with tears again.
Now every time that Alby thought of exterminating feral street kids, he thought of Fox, what he had been and how he had become the magnificently muscular blond he-man, just as he remembered Flight Lieutenant Chambers. He cringed in horror at the memory of how he had advocated exterminating Fox. It would have been like killing off Flight Lieutenant Chambers. The thought stuck in his throat, causing it to constrict. To Alby, Fox and Flight Lieutenant Chambers were the one and the same. They were two splendid, beautiful and heroic men who were somehow one.
It was a neat trick that Derek had performed. Fox was impressed. However, Fox could not help feeling a little sorry for Alby.
Alby never spoke of exterminating undesirables again.
A little while later, the two supermen downed the last of their beers and bade farewell to the four old World War II veterans.
They rode off down the street and separated. Derek headed back to the Norwood House.
--------------------------------- Continued in Part 41. ---------------------------------