Usual Disclaimer: If you are not of an age to read this because of the laws of your country or district please desist. If you are a bigot or prod-nosed fundamentalist of any persuasion find your monkey-spanking literature elsewhere and keep your predilections and opinions to yourself. Everyone else welcome and comments more than welcome.
This is a very long tale. It unfolds over a good number of years. What is true, is true: what is not is otherwise. A dramatis personae will follow after a few more installments - there are a lot of characters!
ALADDIN'S AWAKENING
By
Joel
CHAPTER 15 [Continued]
Soon was half-past seven. He was standing by the bed having drawn the curtains back and the change in light woke me. He extended a hand and I dutifully got out and stood beside him. His cock was already standing to attention, mine wasn't, yet! He'd already placed the towel on the floor so I began on him. I could see him in the mirror and if Gareth's balls bounced, so did his! Not for long though, they soon went hard and lifted in a tight bunch.
I put my other arm round him and squeezed them slightly. He leaned back hard against me, mouth open and panting hard, and shot his load. It didn't go far but there was lots of it! My turn as we exchanged places and my now stiff prong was carefully encircled by his experienced hand. My nuts were also pressed as my prick was pumped. The desired effect was surprisingly quick in realization but was not quite the previous night's display. I did shoot as much as he had, I'm glad to say, even on my fourth firing of the night. I sat on the edge of the bed, shagged out, or tossed off, or whatever the best term was. I wasn't really, I actually felt quite exhilarated and very proud. I had matched, and even beaten, my older cousin.
We went to the bathroom together and I had a quick bath. Rhys soaped me down and rubbed my back and told me I hadn't better get a stiff dick again yet as it made his arm ache! Cheek!
I left him in the bathroom as he wanted a bath as well and went back to the bedroom. Surprise, surprise, who should be under the bed clothes but Alun. He eyed me with a quizzical look.
"OK, eh? Did Randy Rhys show you his big cock?"
I might as well boast. "Four times... each!" was my self-satisfied reply.
His shoulders heaved with silent mirth. "I thought as much. He said he was going to test your stamina but you've tested his as well. Gosh, and he's playing this afternoon. So's Gareth, but we only did it once each last night!"
I found out that the two older ones were playing in two of the works rugger teams in Boxing Day friendlies against two club sides. Rhys was on the wing in one team and Gareth was lock forward in the other. Alun was supposed to be playing in the same team as Rhys but because of his injury he couldn't. I said I'd like to go and watch if he didn't mind being left at home. By this time I'd dressed and Rhys came in just as I was tying my second shoe lace. He was fully dressed too. He shut the door behind him.
He addressed Alun across my head. "You were right, Alun, the lad shoots a right packet. I've never seen so much, not even that Emmanuel Pritchard I've told you about."
I couldn't resist it, "I suppose it was Oh come, Oh come, Emmanuel, wasn't it?"
Rhys laughed a hollow laugh. "If we sang it to him once we sang it a thousand times but we gave up in the end because he never seemed to mind. I think he rather liked it. And, boyo, couldn't he come! But not as much you, Jacko. You're a real prize!" He prodded Alun through the clothes, "And four times in a trot, eh, answer that!"
Alun didn't answer that but lazily sat up. "And I hope you haven't sapped your stamina for this afternoon, dear brother," he said in measured tones, "You know you shouldn't before a game and four times could be construed as excessive!"
Rhys stuck his tongue out and piloted me out of the room down to the substantial breakfast required to restore our sorely tried staminas.
Uncle Edward was sitting in solitary state at the table chomping through a plate of bacon and eggs. He pointed to the side board. "Help yourselves, there's more bacon, I brought my mess rations with me so eat it up."
I started off with a big bowl of porridge and as I was wolfing this down Uncle Edward leaned towards me.
"Jacko, if you would like to stay the rest of the week I can take you back next Sunday."
I looked up, quite startled. We were supposed to be travelling back tomorrow so Pa could get back to work. A week here with the boys, oh, great!
"Can you? I wouldn't mind staying!"
"Good, it's arranged then. I talked to your mum and dad about it last night and they agreed and Fay says you're welcome to stay as long as the boys don't mind. Anyway, you'll be company for Peg-leg too."
He paused, "Also, you can help me out. Nobody's translated the prisoners' statements and your mum says you're a dab hand at German so could you have a go? I can then say I have to transport my translator and my driver won't be able to drop me in the sh.. pardon, ..the mire!"
There was a throaty chuckle from Rhys at Uncle's indiscretion. Uncle Edward wagged a finger at him.
"And no lip from you, I haven't forgiven you about the limerick, yet!"
Rhys sniggered, "And I'll tell Gran about Gareth and the parrot?"
"Shhhh.. The boy, remember!" He looked at me and grinned. I knew I would have to ask Gareth about the parrot and Rhys about the limerick!
"OK, then, all settled. You stay. You translate. You go home next Sunday, verstehen Sie?"
I understood and I said so, in my best German. I said I was at his command and I was pleased to stay and to translate for him. Both he and Rhys looked at me attentively during this recital and Uncle Edward laughed at the end.
"You beat me, young Jacko, I understood what you said, but I couldn't respond!"
I devoured two eggs and three rashers of bacon as I could see my stamina was going to be tested to the full during the week. Oh God, six times already and I've only been here two whole days!
After lunch I went on a spare bike with Rhys and Gareth to see them play. I had looked longingly at Alun's drop-handled racer but Gareth wisely said it was a bit too big for me, yet!
When we got to the ground I tagged along behind Rhys as he went in to get changed. Rhys was in the apprentices' team who were all about his age or a bit younger. Gareth was in the senior side and went off to a different part of the room. There was a general shout to find out about Alun. He was obviously popular and I was introduced as his cousin and there were one or two humorous comments that they expected I could play better than him and did I want his place in the team. I modestly said no, I guessed he was better than me.
When they were playing I was surprised to see that Rhys was the tallest, in fact, their scrum half was shorter than me even though he was much older.
Gosh, I was glad I wasn't playing! They played very fast and tackled very hard. Rhys had several good runs but was tackled down and then, well on in the second half, he took a high pass, set off like the wind and put the ball down right between the posts. His team won three tries to two so there was much hilarity in the changing-room when they ran in.
I hadn't been in a big changing-room before and was intrigued by the large bath which, when Gareth's mob, who had lost, came in, rapidly filled with the muddy throng who burst into song. I sat nearby, holding Rhys's towel, trying to make out the words of the songs and making a good few comparisons.
I supposed the cold had some effect on everybody's cocks but Rhys and Gareth were amongst the most well-endowed. The little scrum half had a whopper too but most of the other younger lads seemed to have fairly short, stumpy dicks.
I guessed most of Gareth's team were in their early twenties but, although they generally were more hairy, their cocks didn't seem any bigger than the younger lads, perhaps a bit thicker. One, though, did stand out, or rather his bollocks did. They hung so low they were almost halfway to his knees and as he walked they swung from side to side alarmingly. I wondered how they bounced when he beat his meat! And, he definitely listed to port! His left one hung a good inch lower than the right. What a pity Matt wasn't here to allay his fears!
As far as the singing was concerned most seemed to be hymns in Welsh but there were some songs in English which were funny and rude. There was one about virgins from Inverness and another one where it could have been either balls, or bawls, like a bull depending on the verse. I didn't have a chance to ask Rhys about what I'd noticed or what was sung as we had to leave fairly quickly and hurry back in the biting wind.
When we got back everyone was ready for high tea before we departed for the pantomime. Pa and Uncle Dick had been to the steelworks to discuss some production schedule or other and Uncle Edward had spent the afternoon playing chess with his nephew, Peg-leg, as he called him. Peg-leg was determined to come to the panto and he was certainly limping less.
It was a great success, we hissed the evil Abdelazar and cheered for Aladdin and his mother and Grandma said it was the best panto she'd ever seen. We were in a merry mood on arriving home and even Alun almost forgot to limp, and Granddad said he'd never known a slight sprain to last so long! Still there was a bite of supper and then the grownups settled down to port and nuts and talk so Alun and I went up to bed.
We were just getting into bed when Rhys came in.
"Hey, you two, I think I'll come in with you tonight. Gareth is downstairs swigging back the drink so he'll be sozzled as hell and will just snore and fart all night and stink the place out! OK if I join you?"
Alun shrugged his shoulders and said he supposed so. Three in a four foot bed! Lucky it wasn't Gareth! Rhys peeled off his togs and got in between us, he was obviously itching to tell us something.
"Hey, come on you two, get down and listen." We lay on our sides facing in towards Rhys who was on his back between us. "That panto tonight! D'you know what Aladdin's really all about?"
I didn't know other than it was a boy who found a magic lamp so kept quiet. Alun said it was just a fairy story.
"Fairy story, my foot, think about it, you've got brains," he poked at Alun, "Except most of yours are between your legs and that's what Aladdin's all about, don't you see?"
Alun gave him a playful punch and Rhys put up a hand to ward it off. "No, just listen, I've worked it all out. What does the boy discover?"
He looked at me so I replied, "A magic lamp."
"And what did he do?"
"He rubbed it and a genie popped out!" I paused, the light was dawning. "I know, it's about boys who find when they rub themselves out comes magic stuff!"
Alun still looked mystified but Rhys was jubilant, "Good for you, Jacko, that's right, at least your brains are in the right place! Look, Alun, don't you see, it's really about boys finding out about tossing off isn't it? There's this useless old spout, you pick it up one day, give it a rub and, Hey Presto, whoosh!"
Alun had twigged by now, "Gosh, Rhys, yes, that's it.. Gosh, and his mother's name is Twankey, isn't it? It's got wank in it!"
Rhys gave another chuckle, "Yeah, and Ieuan Rees told me his brother in the Army says they call it having a widow when they go to the bogs for one!"
I piped up, "I wouldn't mind a widow now!"
Both brothers guffawed. "Cheeky sod!" said Rhys, "Listen to him. He spent all last night firing his wad and now he wants it again!"
He turned on his side and tipped me onto my back pulling the bedclothes down at the same time. I shivered, it was a bit cold and draughty.
"Are you cold, Jacko?" he asked, "This'll warm you up." He grabbed my magic lamp and began to rub it. "Hey, Jacko, do you know about Christopher Robin? Did your mum read it to you when you were little, you know, 'Little boy kneels....'," he paused.
And I continued, "'..by the side of his bed'.."
"No, No!" he interrupted me as he continued to polish my youthful spout, "I bet she didn't read the proper version, it goes like this.." He began a heavy buffing of my steely rod as he intoned,
"'Little boy kneels by the lavat'ry pan,
Clasped in his little hand massive old man,
Drip, drip, to the bottom it sank,
Christopher Robin is having a wank.'"
I heaved with laughter and a throaty gurgle came from behind Rhys from Alun who was enjoying the recital as well. I settled down and Rhys continued intoning the ditty emphasising the fast three four rhythm of the poem as he beat me off until exactly half way through his fifth repetition I started to come. Without hesitation he finished the poem off..,
"'Squirt, squirt, over belly and tum,
Young Jacko Thomson has finally come!'"
"Gosh, Rhys," gurgled Alun again, "I nearly pissed myself then, you are a clot!"
I was in two ecstasies, the wonderful feelings of just having shot a load and, also, the funniness of Rhys's poem.
"Thanks, Rhys," I managed to say between giggles, "I shan't be able to do it without thinking of your poem, especially the last bit!"
Rhys turned onto his back, "Just part of the service, poems while you wait." He slapped Alun on the stomach. "You've heard it before, haven't you, old son?"
Alun was still laughing, "But not in that version, I like it, 'Young Jacko Thomson has finally come'!"
"Gives a whole new meaning to 'little squirt' doesn't it?" said Rhys.
I wasn't having that, "I'm not!" I riposted, "I'm a big squirt, you said it yourself last night and you can see I am now."
I jabbed at the four large splodges of spunk on my stomach. I wiped a sticky finger over his chest which was heaving up and down. I looked around and saw the towel on the arm of the chair. I hopped out of bed and wiped myself.
My turn now to be in charge. I hopped back onto the bed again and pulled the blankets off both of them right down to their ankles. I parted their legs and knelt so one hairy leg of each was between my knees and took a magic lamp in each hand and began to summon up their genies.
While I was working away I remembered Billy Clarke's joke but waited until first Alun came and then, just as Rhys emptied the contents of his magic flask over his chest, I asked, "Hey, Rhys, do you know the difference between a fresh egg and a good wank?"
He was lying back, eyes closed, mouth open, concentrating on matters some distance from his brain. He opened an eye and stared at me. "No.., What did you say?
Between a fresh egg and... Ow!" He winced as I pulled down hard on his prick and stretched his skin further back. Two little drops of spunk oozed from the slit in his dark red knob. "Ah.., a good wank? That's what I've just had!" He nudged the silent Alun who was staring at the ceiling with a beatific smile on his lips. My two black-haired cousins, I'd jacked them off together and they didn't know the answer to my riddle.
"You can beat a fresh egg...." I began.
"But you can't beat a good wank!" mumbled a dark brown voice from Alun.
"I've heard it before", he continued in a monotone, "But I've never had a good wank beside my brother before like that."
He reached up and touched my balls lightly with the tip of a finger. Rhys reached out and drew me down so I was lying between them.
"You witty little sod, but you're a good lad." He touched my lips with his tongue then turned slightly to pick the towel off the floor where I'd dropped it. He wiped himself then passed it to Alun who dropped it the other side before pulling the covers up over us. We dropped off to sleep, with me sandwiched between my two black-haired, big-cocked cousins and blissfully happy.
Rhys was up and dressed when I woke in the morning.
"It's half-past seven. I've to be off to work for eight and don't forget your mum and dad are going off at nine so you'd better get up soon. Give him a shove and get him up, too!"
He indicated a still comatose Alun who was snoring away merrily. I reached along under the covers and caught hold of his prick. Wonder of wonders, it was a limp spout this morning. I gave it a tug but there wasn't much response. I tugged again and all that happened was that a sleepy eye opened and a blurred voice asked what time it was. I don't think he even realised the danger his anatomy could be in if I was feeling vicious. I tugged again.
"Ouch, you little fiend! You'll pull it off! Let go!"
He was wide awake now and made to grab me under the clothes but missed as I rolled away. He moved up close. I could see from his expression I was about to learn something else.
"Hey, Jacko, you reminded me. Gareth told us one of the other students told him there's a tribe somewhere who tie weights on their pricks to stretch them. You know, like those ones who put things in their lips and make them stick out."
"Is that true, and does it make them longer?" I could imagine Tony with a fifty-six pound weight dragging him down!
"I don't know, and I'm not going to try, my cock's big enough for me."
I laughed, "I think my friend Tony would do it. He's always on about wanting a big prick."
Alun sniffed, "Who doesn't!"
I thought back to the changing-room scene. "That little scrum-half you've got he's got a big one, hasn't he, and he's not so tall as me!"
Alun grinned, "You mean Griffiths the Whopper. You know, he was at school with Rhys but left to be an apprentice like me, so he's the same age as Rhys, and he's married, and he's got a kid!"
Gosh, I always though of married people as being old, not seventeen and a half! "He's married?"
"Yeah, got some girl up the spout when he was sixteen and her old man insisted he married her! So he's got a wife and a kid. At least he doesn't have to rely on wanking 'cause he can have a shag whenever he wants. He says you can't beat having a hot cunt to keep your cock warm!"
I must say my knowledge of girls and their anatomy and what shagging was all about was rudimentary to say the least. I did know you had to shoot your stuff inside them to make a baby but that was about all. I'd heard that several times from conversations at school but was always a bit nervous at showing my ignorance by asking for more detail. We had done the rabbit in Biology but other than they bred profusely and were a damn nuisance in Australia the actual mechanics of the fusion of male and female had been really glossed over and I wasn't sure if what I gathered also applied to humans. And then there were dogs. I'd seen several pairings but it all looked a bit hit and miss. I suppose my fusion with Matt was a near enough approximation but then he was a boy.
As far as girls were concerned my only contact had been with the junior school variety, generally large and usually verbose about the deficiencies of us boys as human beings especially in our inability to skip. Also, thinking back further, my firsthand knowledge of their anatomy was also really of a pretty sketchy nature.
My first encounter was through the explorations made when playing with Tony and his sister Katherine, or Kats for short, when we were in the Infant School. Tony informed me one day that girls didn't have a wee-wee and when I looked puzzled, he, at the age of six and a half, engineered a demonstration when we were in his house and his mother was out. He persuaded Kats, aged five, to play hospitals with us and we took it in turn to be the doctor, the nurse and the patient.
Crafty Tony allowed Kats to examine both of us first and I remember vividly having my small and rather reclusive prong being examined closely before being told it was too big and would have to be cut off in the morning. Before that drastic action happened we changed roles and I remember my amazement at being confronted not with one bottom but two as I thought. Tony was right, girls didn't have a wee-wee! My curiosity was heightened as I prodded and poked about and my finger did find an opening but when I tried to explore it Kats closed her legs tight and said she wanted to go to the lav. We followed her in and I was amazed to see her sit and have a pee and then she, of course, wanted to watch us standing. Tony produced a strong stream of piss straight into the bowl, but, embarrassed me could only manage a dribble.
After that I don't think the matter of girls and their wee-wees was alluded to again by Tony or myself. I just assumed as Kats was younger than us it might grow one day. Ah, but then, about three years later I learned this wasn't so because one of the girls in my class said if I showed her my willy she would show me hers. I was shocked. She didn't have one! Just the groove between her legs I had seen on Kats. I was more concerned for my willy which she pinched and pulled before laughing and saying she was glad she didn't have a thing like that!
Alun cut into my day-dream. "You know Gareth is after this girl in his year at University?" he began confidentially. "Her father's a surgeon at the Infirmary and she's doing medicine too. He's always boasting he's going to shag her whenever he goes out with her but he hasn't yet 'cause Rhys says he just comes home and beats his meat to cool down."
He gave a laugh and I was all ears, "And Rhys is a bit keen on one of the girls in the office where he's working but she won't have anything to do with him. He says girls are only interested in two things, what's in your wallet and what's between your legs and in that order! He says that as he hasn't anything in his wallet 'cause he's still at school it'll be years before he'll have a real shag!"
"But he's got lots between his legs! Wouldn't she be satisfied with that? You know, like Griffiths the Whopper's girl? He didn't have any money I suppose being an apprentice?"
He punched me playfully, "Oh, Jacko, you've got lots to learn, there are girls and girls, so I'm not going to get involved. I'm quite satisfied with what I can do alone."
"Or with your cousin, or your brothers?"
He punched me again and grinned, "Yeah, and if you don't get up sharpish we'll have to help each other out again!"
I got up sharpish and went down and had breakfast with Ma and Pa and dutifully took a tray up to Alun. Ma told me to behave myself and Pa did say he thought I had made a good impression so far, so keep it up. I waved them off and thought that keeping it up wasn't a problem, it was trying to control it by keeping it down.
Grandpa and Grandma went a bit later to catch their train back to Chester. Grandma extracted a promise from me to go and see them in the summer holidays. Good! I liked their rambling old house and said I would like to stay very much.
Alun and I spent the rest of the day playing Monopoly and reading. His ankle was much better and he could put his foot down flat without complaining too much. I tested this when I made him stand up for our before lunch wank.
During the afternoon we went to the other bedroom as he said he had something to show me. He opened the chest of drawers by Gareth's bed and rummaged around before pulling out a folded up pair of Rugby socks. He stuck his hand into one and extracted three little silvery packets.
"Don't you dare tell Gareth I've shown you these," he admonished in a firm whisper, "D'you know what they are?"
I shook my head, mystified by anything which had to be kept hidden in a rolled up sock.
"They're French letters," he whispered confidentially. I must have shown my incomprehension. "You know, Jacko, you put them on your prick to stop babies!"
Why were things to stop having babies in Gareth's drawer in a sock? My ignorance was vast but something important was about to be revealed.
"Oh, Jacko, didn't you know?"
I shook my head again. He held one up in front of me.
"I daren't open it and show you 'cause he'll know and he'll belt me one. Look!," he thrust the little packet at me, "Just hold it and I'll explain. He's got them in case that girl Jennifer says he can have a shag so then he'd put one on before he fucks her. You can't see but in there it's like a rubber balloon, and it catches the spunk, then she doesn't have a baby. Simple, isn't it?"
Simple it might be, but I was rather speechless as I turned the silver package in my fingers.
"Where did he get them?" I asked, curious as a cat.
"His friend got them from a soldier. They have them issued or something. Gareth says you can get them at the barber's too but they're scarce 'cause there's a war on. He says when you're older they ask you whether you want something for the weekend and you say a packet of three. Gareth wouldn't ask in the barber's so he told his friend he needed them just in case, so he got them and sold them to him."
Alun took the packet from me and carefully stowed all three and the socks back where he had found them.
"You promise you won't mention it, eh?"
I was able to nod this time and remembered Tony's incantation, "Scout's honour!"
Alun laughed, "You're not a bloody Scout but I'll believe you Come on, we'll have a look in there."
He pointed to a cupboard built in by the fireplace. Again a bit of rummaging took place and at last with a triumphant look he drew out two thin magazines and put them on the bed. He knelt down and I joined him as he opened the first. There were lots of black and white pictures of naked girls showing off their breasts to the camera. There was little evidence of what may have lurked below as they were mainly side on views.
Alun flipped the pages quickly then opened the second. These were a bit more daring. I caught glimpses of black shadow in most and in one there was a back view of a naked man with the girl on her back, breasts up but legs tightly closed, staring at him. What was interesting was that the captions were in French. I put out a finger and held it on a page to prevent him turning the pages too quickly as I wanted to translate. He pushed my finger away.
"You mustn't look at these too much or you're get another hardon!", he said rather primly. "A boy at school gave them to Rhys to look after in case his mother found them. Rhys looks at them a lot," he glanced up at me slyly, "And so do I when he's out."
His prediction was true, I had the beginnings of a hardon and this was confirmed by the stealthy hand that expertly undid my flies and began to jack me off.
"Here, Jacko, have a look at this one," he said as he tossed me off with one hand and pointed with the other at the photo of the naked couple, "Just look at those tits on her!"
I looked and realised that if I didn't do something quickly Gareth would be sleeping under a spunk-stained coverlet tonight. I quickly dipped into my pocket and retrieved my hankie which already had done its duty in mopping up Gareth's and my come the other night. I held it over my knob end just in time as my thighs jerked with my second coming of the day.
"Quick, fucking do me!" was the immediate command from Alun, who'd already got his prick out by the time I'd rearranged my position.
He was staring at the picture mouthing silently as I beat him off. I caught his spunk too so my hankie was well soaked when I stuffed it back into my pocket.
I helped Alun up as he winced in trying to put weight on his foot and did myself up.
"Gosh, that was good, wasn't it, Jacko?" he said excitedly, "But don't you tell Rhys you've seen his pictures, will you?"
A little gentle teasing of my cousin was necessary. "But, I can tell Gareth you tossed me off looking at Rhys's pictures and I can tell Rhys that you showed me Gareth's packet things hidden in his socks, is that right?"
"I'll pull your bollocks off when I catch you, you ungrateful little sod! Ouch, my foot!", was what I heard as I skipped out of the room and the reach of his outstretched arms.
I was sitting in the armchair in his room when he came in wagging a finger at me. "You won't say anything, will you?"
I shook my head, "Of course not, it was most interesting, but something else?"
He sat on the bed and massaged his ankle. "What's that?"
"Well, you know what you told me about weights this morning and you know that chap in Gareth's team, that one with balls that hang right down. D'you think he stretched them?"
He interrupted with a laugh, "Oh you mean Jones the Balls One! He's funny isn't he?"
"Oh, is that what you call him?"
"Yes, he's got a brother who's sometimes in our junior team and he's Jones the Balls Two. He's just the same. He said they were a bit like it when they were kids so I don't think they've been hanging weights on them! They're peculiar aren't they? The one in our team says they have to be very careful and he wears a jockstrap all the time to hold them up. I wouldn't want mine to be like that, would you?"
I thought a moment. No, I didn't want to be peculiar, I just wanted to be as big as my cousins. I suppose that pulling my wire regularly was helping to stretch it and plenty of food was helping me grow anyway, so I would just have to wait and see!
I shrugged my shoulders and pulled my hankie out to blow my nose and realised it was rather damp and soggy. I held it up for inspection.
"Look at this," I said accusingly, "I need a clean one. It's all your fault!" I didn't say his was the third set of spunk on it!
Alun laughed, "You're the one who used it! It's a good job you did, though!"
I waved the clammy object at him, "My friend Tim Parker calls it having a Yankee!"
Of course, I then had to retail that afternoon's events much to Alun's amusement.
"I like that," he chortled, "And his brother guessed, did he? And played Yankee Doodle Dandy, eh?" He sat up straight and sang out,
"Yankee Doodle came to town,
Riding on a pony,
He stuck a feather up its arse,
And called it macaroni!"
I giggled, I hadn't heard that version. "Where did you learn that?"
"Oh, Gareth sings it when he wrestles with Rhys and threatens to stick something up him when he's got him down."
I wondered if I should tell him what I'd stuck up Matt but thought I'd keep that for another time 'cause I still had lots to tell him and I suspected he still had things to tell me.
We were still playing Monopoly when Rhys and Gareth arrived home. Rhys was full of joy because Myfanwy had deigned to speak to him having enquired about Christmas. Alun made some comment about him being worse than a dog sniffing round the females. Actually, he said bitches which riled Rhys who got him back on the bed and said if he heard him say that again about Myfanwy he'd castrate him. Alun said he was sorry he didn't mean her and, anyway, Rhys was hurting his ankle.
Rhys went off to get ready for dinner and Alun grinned at me and said that the sod had got the hots badly and would be cranking the old starting handle tonight for sure! Another new phrase for me to remember!
After dinner Uncle Dick and Auntie Fay went to play bridge with some friends and Gareth disappeared out as well. Alun and I were still trying to bankrupt each other when Rhys came in and sat and watched us. I had just made Alun pay rent on Mayfair and he was scrabbling together most of his money when I remembered the conversation at breakfast the day before.
"Hey, Rhys, what did Uncle Edward mean yesterday when he said he hadn't forgiven you about the limerick?"
Rhys laughed, "Oh, it's not much, it happened years ago but it got him in trouble with Nan."
"What was it then?"
"Well, Gareth and I were in the choir at St. Teilo's where we were on Sunday. I hadn't been in the choir long, I must have been about eight 'cause we hadn't moved to this house then. Anyway, Nan was staying with us and Uncle Edward came down one Sunday to fetch her back and she made him come to church to see her grandsons in the choir. Anyway, before lunch we were in the garden and he said he knew all about choirboys and what they could do and especially about the choirboy of Tring. Of course, Gareth asked him what he meant and he told us that limerick.."
Alun interrupted and said, with a very posh accent,
"There was a young choirboy of Tring,
Who could fart through God Save the King,"
Rhys joined in, beating time,
"The people gazed in wonderment,
That such a tiny fundament,
Could do such a marvellous thing!"
Alun was not to be outdone, "I don't remember it happening 'cause I was much younger but then the silly sod started to tell it to Nan at lunch but he couldn't remember it properly so he didn't say fart, and luckily Mary the maid dropped something and Uncle Edward managed to change the subject."
"Yeah, I heard Dad telling Uncle Edward off later so he must have known it and Gareth and I have had a good laugh about it many times and we always bring it up somehow when Uncle is here."
Good, that was one for Tony who was still in his church choir but not to be thought about while I was having a piano lesson! But there was also the matter of the parrot and Gareth.
"And what was that about Gareth and the parrot?"
I saw the boys exchange very amused glances.
"You really should ask Gareth, but I'll tell you," said Rhys cheerily. "And you shut up this time, alright," he instructed his brother and turned his attention on me. "You know Nan's parrot?"
Yes, I did know Grandma's parrot. It had nipped my finger once when I tried to give it a piece of biscuit, horrible bird! I nodded.
"D'you know it's name?"
"Well, I suppose it's Polly, 'cause that's what Grandma calls it."
The boys both gave a laugh and Rhys continued, "No, it's real name is Onan."
"Is it," I said rather bemused, "Grandma always says, Polly, Polly, when she talks to it."
"No," said Rhys, very evenly, "Uncle Edward told Gareth, oh, years ago, that it's real name was Onan, 'cause it spilt it's seed on the ground."
Both boys laughed again, I looked puzzled.
"What's that name got to do with spilling it's seed. It does, it's all on the bottom of that big cage it's in."
Both boys were by this time giggling uncontrollably and I had to wait until Rhys resumed some composure.
"Well, a bit later Gareth was in the drawing-room and went up to the cage and said 'Onan!' and Nan said, 'Yes, Gareth, what do you want?'. That puzzled Gareth and he was just about to repeat it when he realised that Uncle Edward must have been pulling his leg so he just asked something like how old was the bird. It wasn't 'till a couple of years later he found out what it was all about."
I was still a bit confused, "Well what does it mean? Why did he say it?"
Alun couldn't resist it, "He told you! Onan spilled his seed on the ground. It's in the Bible, don't you know?"
I didn't know and must have looked bemused because Rhys explained, "It tells you about this chap, whose name was Onan...." He got up and picked a Bible off Alun's shelf of books and rapidly thumbed through, "....Look, it's here somewhere, this chap was told to go and marry his brother's wife and instead of shagging her he tossed himself off! And then God killed the poor bugger for whacking himself off! So that's why boys are told it's wrong! Here we are!"
He thrust the copy at me triumphantly with his finger on the verse in Genesis. I read it carefully and a thought struck me. "I suppose that's why Vince Hare says it's a sin and he has to go and confess. He's a Catholic. But it's too nice to be a sin, isn't it? I don't know any boys who don't do it, anyway."
This set both of them in paroxysms of mirth. "Here speaketh the voice of innocence!" was Rhys's comment when he had finished spluttering. "God, we know all boys do it, but there are plenty who tell you it's all wrong. I'm glad I'm not Chapel either 'cause some of them at school were convinced they'd end up mad or blind if they whacked off and they'd get all embarrassed when we asked them what their score was."
"Yeah, that Henry Evans in my class used to pray for forgiveness so Ricky Williams told me," said Alun. He looked across at his brother, "You'd be praying all the time, Rhys, wouldn't you?"
Well we sinned mightily in the next quarter of an hour. I tossed Rhys off, he tossed me off, and Alun demonstrated he was like Onan and spilled his own seed on the ground. Luckily there was a towel there to catch it all!
To be continued:
Previous stories of mine have been published on Nifty.
Spying on My Brothers: (45k: Incest Section: Apr 15 2000)
Easter Rugger Tours (Dir: HS Section: Jun 10 2000)
Jordan's Story (84k: HS Section: Jul 23 2000)
Flip's Tale (Dir: HS Section: Apr 17 2002)
Taming the 'Phobes (Dir: HS; Military: August 04 2002)
Read and Enjoy.