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.
ALADDIN'S AWAKENING
By
Joel
Chapter 31
(Part One)
Friday, June 16th 1944 (continued)
Of course, nosey me, wanted to know why the giggling. Tony and Roo were still laughing as they walked swiftly along the corridor. I hurried and caught them up.
"What was all that about?" I demanded, "You nearly dropped us all in the shit!"
They only laughed more. Tony stopped walking fast and Roo slowed down as well.
"You heard what Jim wanted to know, didn't you?"
"Yeah, something about drumming." I remembered reading the word myself but hadn't taken much notice of it at the time. "Paradiddle, wasn't it?"
"Yep," said Tony, to renewed giggling from Roo. "What do you do when you diddle?"
Oh, of course, I'd heard the word used many times. In fact someone had recently used it when making a comment about someone else. Something like "Hey diddle diddle, Dave's not gone for a piddle!" We all knew aspersions were being cast on why he needed to go to the bog!
"What is it all about?" I asked, "It's not all that funny. Everyone knows what it means."
"Yeah," chimed in Roo, "But Tony knows what paradiddle really means."
I looked at Roo, then Tony. They both had rather smug looks on their faces. What was the joke?
"Don't you get it?" asked Roo. "Para-diddle!" He emphasized the two bits of the word. "Means 'a commando's wank', doesn't it? Get it, para-diddle!"
"Yeah," said Tony, "And 'paramour' means 'another one' for the same bloke. There's plenty more, like 'paragon'. That's 'when a commando's come'!"
I raised my eyes heavenwards. Weak puns! But...., I'd just thought of one, too!
"Then there's 'parachute'," I said. "'What happens when he comes'."
That set them off giggling again.
"'Paramount'," said Tony, "'How much he comes'. There's loads, I think."
"Come or words?" I asked.
"Hunh!" said Tony, "You're as bad as us at making funnies!"
"We need a dictionary, don't we?" surmised Roo, "Let's see if we can make a list."
OK, OK. It might be weak humour, but schoolboys are schoolboys and we said we'd compare notes on Monday. They had a Scout do on Saturday and Tony was singing in the church choir on Sunday so we couldn't meet until then.
I was thinking about all this while I cycled home and as soon as I had changed I went to Pa's study to have a look at his dictionary. I pored over the relevant pages. I noted 'paradigm' and decided that was what an American commando paid for someone to do it to him. Then there was 'parasite', where he did it. I went back a bit. Ah, 'paranormal', this must be 'three times a day'. I copied these down on a page torn from my rough note book I then saw 'parasol' and I must say I did giggle to myself. I copied this down with 'a commando's anus' next to it. I did know the proper word! So, a little list for Tony and Roo on Monday.
That night I was a paragon twice and supremely paramount in my efforts!
I met up with Tom Saturday morning at the end of my run and helped him finish his paper-round. He seemed a bit despondent and I realised he was really missing Dunc. I said I'd promised to do some weeding in our vegetable patch. This was most of our back garden which Pa had Dug for Victory and where he spent most of his spare time cosseting the growing produce. Tom said he would help if I would do the same for their garden as Dunc had kept it spick and span for them.
As it was quite sunny we stripped off our shirts as we hoed and weeded the patches. Both of us had lost most of our puppy fat and Tom had a particularly flat stomach. I remembered Mike had promised me his weights if I wanted them and I thought if I could borrow them I would exercise with those as well as doing my run each day. Actually, watching Tom I noted he was getting quite strong by the way he was more or less effortlessly moving the accumulated rubbish and pushing the heavy wheelbarrow. All this hard work made us both ravenous and good old Ma made a batch of thick sandwiches for lunch which we wolfed down.
After lunch Tom still stuck around so I suggested we went to see Nobbo.
I suppose I though he would be missing Billy who'd gone off on Tuesday to training camp.
If the two lonely souls got together they might comfort each other!
Nobbo was in his garden - not dug over - with Cleggy and a lad I hadn't seen before. They were playing a game of French cricket. We were introduced and this was his cousin Hal from London via Devon who had arrived on Thursday. They stopped the game and Hal told us about how he and his mum had been almost bombed out in London some time ago. He had been evacuated to Devon, but his mum, a nurse like her sister, had stayed on in London and only last week had narrowly missed being bombed out again. As usual, whenever I heard of bombs and ruin elsewhere, I was glad we had experienced so little damage other than the few air-raids when bombs had been dropped, mainly on the outskirts of the city.
Anyway, we then played a bit until Cleggy announced he had to get home so Tom and I stayed and chatted more. We could hardly enquire if anything interesting was going on. Nobbo did say they were sharing the bedroom now that Billy was away and we heard that Hal was fourteen and a half. Also, he would be joining our school for the Autumn Term but would be one Form lower - he would be in the Fourth when we would be in the Fifth. This was as he had missed a term when he was twelve through being shunted around because of the bombing. Anyway, Nobbo seemed to be quite happy having his cousin there and the lad seemed very pleasant. Wait and see!
Tom and I cycled off home and parted at his front gate. I promised to meet him in the morning to help him finish his paper-round and he said he had to go on a Church Parade after. So that was that. I entertained myself that night once and twice on Sunday.
Monday 19th June 1944
School was not very interesting as the beaks were bemoaning our performances in the end-of-year exams. Huggy was particularly scathing about the way some of the class had mucked up certain questions in his Maths paper. Smug me sat as I knew I had got correct answers. He said that as soon as he marked all the papers we would have an inquest and there might be a few bodies in the way! I was none too pleased when Vansittart waltzed in and handed me a question paper for my extra German which, he did kindly say, I could do at home.
The only bright thing was that at break I looked for Tony and Roo to give them my findings on the antics of commandos. They were busy in the corner of our playground perusing a couple of sheets of paper and giggling. They looked up as I approached.
"I've got a few for you," I said, holding out the page torn from my rough note book.
"Let's have a look," said Tony grabbing it and scanning down the list. "Crikey, you've only got four and we've got all those, except Roo says parasol' is commando's arse'. You're much too polite."
I was a bit miffed. "Well, what have you got?"
Tony waved the two sheets of paper which were neatly typed.
"I went to the Public Library on Saturday morning and looked at the big Oxford dictionary. Bloody hell, all those volumes, I didn't know there were so many words!"
Roo was almost hopping up and down as I asked, "Well, tell me some."
Tony peered at his list.
"Parablast, means `force behind commando's come', then there's 'paraclete'."
I must have looked puzzled.
"That's 'commando's tied a knot in it'. You know, you've heard the phrase about tying a knot in it and a cleat is a knot."
"Oh," I said resignedly, "Never heard the word."
Tony looked at me witheringly. "Well you'd better read them all through and ask if you don't understand!"
Oh, what a stuck-up prick he can be at times! He handed me the sheets and I read some of the others, which I noted were in alphabetical order, including:
Parable: 'Commando's male cow'.
Parabolic: 'Commando's ball'.
Paradoxy: 'Commando's female friend'.
Paragamy: 'Commando's sweaty smell'.
Parallax: 'Commando's dick is limp'.
Paralyse: 'Commando tells fibs about the length of his dick'.
Parameter: 'Length a commando would like his dick to be'.
Parasecretion: 'Commando's come'.
Paratactic: `What a commando does when he wants a mutual wank'.
"Ok," I said, handing the pages back, "Now you've done all that what next?"
Roo shrugged his shoulders but Tony just wrinkled his nose at me.
"An exercise in ingenuity, exploring the hitherto unknown realms of the English language."
Wow! Tony was a wonder! Producing sentences like that. Even if he was bossy and pompous at times.
"Just followed a theme and it was quite funny. OK, not very funny, just quite funny and Roo enjoyed it when I showed him on Saturday afternoon, didn't you?"
Roo nodded. "Tony said he wouldn't mind being a 'parapet', 'a commando's friend'. So we pretended we were parachuting."
Tony laughed. "Well, that's what we finished doing."
Gosh, Tony was quite open about what he and Roo had done, but then, we three knew all about each other.
So, another day went by. Piano lesson, then St John's in the evening and two parasecretions to finish the day. A close inspection showed no paraphrase - 'type of damage to a commando's dick through over-use'.
Tuesday, school was no better. The list had been circulated so there was quite a bit of hilarity which was dampened as Huggy was in a foul mood. Only three of us had attained full marks in the Maths exam. Matt had actually done better than he had thought and poor Tony had made a right cock-up of one question. I think Huggy was putting the Fear of God into us ready for next year and if he was he was being most effective. Ned Carter was moaning because he said his father would be most displeased as he only got eighty-five per cent in the Maths exam. Roo said he should be grateful as he'd only got fifty-two per cent and anyway he thought trigonometry was crap! Matt was going round almost open-mouthed as he had achieved seventy-two per cent. Unheard of! I received the benefit of that because he said it was all due to me and he would make it up to me any way I liked. Any way? I would have to make plans!
While in the kitchen after school on Tuesday I heard a bike come up our gravel drive. I peered out. It was Mike and he was carrying a rather heavy-looking canvas bag. I realised he had the weights he'd said I could have. Anyway he was cheerful. He said he'd done well in their end-of-term exams and was looking forward to his last year. Then he opened the bag. It contained two sets of dumbbells. Two were five pounds each and the other two eight pounds. I hefted the two smaller ones and grimaced.
"They'll build your strength up," said a grinning Mike. "You lift those two above your head twenty-eight times a second and you'll be working at about one horse-power."
I goggled, then caught on.
"Fool!" I said, "Even you couldn't do that!"
He laughed. "At least while you're lifting those you won't be able to do anything else! Anyway, I shouldn't be telling you this but there's an engineer's joke about work and power and the relation between friction and heat."
"What's that?" I asked, slightly bemused. We'd done work and power and I knew friction produced heat, so...?
"The question is...." he looked at me slyly, "How many wanks to boil a kettle?"
"Fool!" I said a second time, "That's impossible! Who told you that?"
He grinned. "I heard it when I was working at the lab. Anyway, perhaps it's not practically possible, but it is theoretically possible as conversion of energy. You need to think of such things if you want to be a scientist."
I made as if to sling the dumbbell at him as I was still holding on to one of them.
"Come on," he said, "You have the lighter pair and I'll have the others and we'll see how many times you can lift them."
I said OK and on the count of three we began, keeping in time with each other. I got up to forty lifts and I thought my arms would falloff. I managed fifty-two, groaned and just about dropped the weights on the kitchen table. Mike raised his eyebrows and continued, counting out each lift and stopped at seventy-five.
"Gosh, you're good," I said, "It's tiring."
"Um, it takes practice. I usually try a hundred each morning and it took a couple of weeks to build that up. Anyway, fifty-two's not bad for a start. I checked the clock and we were doing forty to the minute. So, work it out, your arms are about eighteen inches so you raised ten by one and a half foot-pounds, that's fifteen foot-pounds, by forty times per minute." He screwed his face up, working it out, "That's 600 foot-pounds per minute!" He paused his face screwed up again trying to remember something. "Yes, one horse-power is thirty three thousand foot-pounds per minute, so...."
There was a long pause as both of us tried to work out by mental arithmetic six hundred divided by....
"Need a bit of paper," said Mike finally, "It's six divided by thirty three divided by ten."
Even I quailed at his speed but that gave me the edge.
"Point nought one something...," I said.
"Eight!" he completed. He was scribbling on the edge of yesterday's newspaper on the table. "And it's recurring... and you're not a very big horse if it's as tiny as that!"
This time I came up behind him and jabbed him below the ribs with the round end of the dumbbell.
"I'll jab you somewhere else if you're not careful. At least, I'm not so much a horse in one respect as you!"
He turned and chucked me under the chin. "But you're still growing, so you tell me."
We both laughed. I wouldn't have minded checking out his horse-cock there and then but there was another sound of arrival. Pa and Ma were home early.
Pa of course wanted to demonstrate his prowess with the dumbbells as well as listen to Mike telling him I developed very little horsepower. Cheeky sod, my horsepower was developing very nicely which I demonstrated very expertly that night in bed and I thought it would be nice to help Mike boil that kettle as well!
School rambled on for the rest of the week. Thursday afternoon we were all commanded to start practising for the school Sports Day to be held on July 12th. We had to take a note home saying parents were welcome to attend and that Speech Day would be on the 19th and we would be breaking up until September on the 20th. Hooray!!
Even more hooray on Thursday evening as Ma had had a letter from Grandma and Grandad in Chester asking if I would like to spend part of the Summer holiday there and would I like to take a friend with me. The letter also said that Alun and Rhys would be staying there as well. Should be interesting! Anyway, I thought of Tom, being a lonely soul, but when I suggested it to him on Friday when I met him at the end of my run he wasn't at all keen. Had to do his paper-round! So, I asked Matt instead and his eyes lit up. Good!
Two afternoons the next week were devoted - a word lovingly said by Rabbity when he announced it - to practice for the Sports Day. I had put my name down for discus, javelin and the half-mile, so one afternoon I practised with about a dozen others hurling the bits of metal and on Thursday I went off on a solitary run through the copse. On my return I went straight to the changing-room as all the others were still on the school field. That was, except for Johnny Pearson who was sitting on the bench under the clothes racks.
"Hi," he said in greeting, "I've been putting that shot and I need a rest. I get worn out very quickly. Mum says I could be excused games but I don't want to be left out"
I didn't enquire about reasons and explained I'd been for a run and was going straight home before school ended.
"OK ," he said, "Same here. Just got to get changed and we can be on our way."
As soon as we were ready we scurried furtively round to the bike-sheds, hauled out our bikes and made off like greased lightning away from the school. As we cycled along I said about being at the boxing match where his pal Johnny Reed had got his black eye and that he had joined St John's now. Johnny said he'd got enough to do with school work and the Cadets. He said Johnny had said I'd dealt with the First Aid and asked if I was going to be a doctor. I said I didn't think so, but Cleggy and Nobbo wanted to be.
He nodded. "I have to go to see the doctor a lot. Only got one kidney."
I was a bit non-plussed. What did that mean? I knew we were supposed to have two and that they filtered out waste products and produced pee, or urine, as we had delicately put it in our Biology notebooks. This, of course, had produced some levity in the class and Cleggy had increased this as he had drawn a very extended external tube which he had to rub out quickly before the beak spotted his efforts.
As Johnny lived further on, when we got near my road I asked if he would like to come in and have a cup of tea. He nodded and said he would come in but wouldn't have anything to drink as he had to watch how much fluid he took in each day. I was curious.
Anyway, I made a pot of tea and we sat in the kitchen and talked about school as I drank my three cups. I then asked if he wanted to see Pa's steam-engine up in my bedroom. As usual, like all the others who had seen it, he was impressed. I said I didn't run it very much and he said he wouldn't mind working on the railways as his uncle was a signalman on the main-line to London and had told him there were plenty of good office jobs to be had.
By this time my three cups of tea were becoming waste products so I said I had to have a pee, but I'd better change out of my school uniform first. He watched as I took my jacket and trousers off and hung them up together with my school tie. I padded off to the lav and realised he had followed me as I withdrew my tool from my underpants and started to piss.
"Wish I could do it as easily as that," his voice came from behind me, "I'm going for more tests next week."
I shook the last drops and tucked it back in. We walked to the bedroom.
When we got there I asked "What happens, then?"
I sat on the edge of the bed and motioned him to sit on my desk chair. I didn't bother to put my other trousers on.
He looked a bit miserable. "I have to watch what I drink as my kidney doesn't work very well and my pee is very brown usually because I mustn't drink too much.
Not like yours. Yours is very clear."
I hadn't realised he had been observing my output so closely.
"What'll happen?" I asked.
"Don't know," he said, "But I get very tired at times, like today."
Being nosey I was even more curious. "Is everything else OK?"
I realised as soon as I'd said it I was being a bit blunt and, perhaps, a bit insensitive. No worry, he just grinned.
"Oh yes, and Johnny told me you were OK too! At least I don't have any worries about that."
I was beginning to realise more and more that boys were all the same. Inquisitive about others, especially about their carnal traits. I wanted to know what he did, when and where, and I bet he wanted to know the same about me. No time like the present. I'd wanked off his pal Johnny Reed and that Johnny had implied that this Johnny would be willing and I wanted to see if he was able! Next step!
"I don't, either," I said with what I hoped was a meaning laugh. It was.
"You're ready," he said, pointing at the bulge in my underpants caused by my rapidly hardening rod which was, as usual, out of my control. "And so am I!"
Needless to say, the next few minutes were very familiar except it was the final hand of the boys in my class which gripped me firmly and made me shoot a good display of my spunk. He was very ready too and it didn't take me long to make him fire a load from the tip of his rather whippy shaft. So, I had reached the same goal as Roo and Tony, albeit a bit later, but it was most satisfying to have achieved it!
As we dressed again I confessed he was the last in the class on my list. He laughed. "Just three more for me now, Matt Ward, Nobbo Clarke and Crabby!"
He said that Tony and Roo weren't really the ones who had set off the campaign amongst the form. It was the way boys found out things, especially in the Scouts and the Cadets. They were only doing what the older Scouts and Cadets had been doing for years and years. Um, something to think about.
The subject was changed and he told me he'd been ill as a kid and the doctors had found one of his kidneys wasn't functioning but the problem seemed to have flared up again since Easter. He thought he might have to go into hospital during the summer but had to wait for the results of the new tests. As this was getting a bit morbid we, thankfully, changed the subject again and chatted on about school and he told me a bit more about the Cadets and the things they had to do. This did not include sexual experimentation, which wasn't mentioned!
About five o'clock he said he'd better go and made some quip about being last in a long line. I said his line wasn't ended yet and he's better get a move on. So, we parted on a happy note. Poor Johnny. I never saw him again. On Monday we heard he'd had to go to hospital down near London and he didn't come back to school for the rest of the term.
Anyway, Johnny had given me something to think about and I contemplated the matter in bed not only that night but for some time after that. What he'd said about boys finding out things was, in fact, only confirming something I was more and more aware of. Something neither Tony nor Roo, nor Alun, had discussed with me in detail but had hinted at and I was working out for myself... I realised that all the tales I'd been told meant only one thing, all boys over the ages were just as inquisitive and had experienced things with other boys. If older brothers and cousins passed on the knowledge, then, like Tom and his brother Duncan, me and Alun, and Mike and his Irish cousins...... The thought was tremendous. It meant our dads at one time must have gone through the same process. I remembered Pa had told me Uncle Dick and Uncle Edward had told him things. Had they done things, too? What about Matt's dad who told him not to worry and Tom's father who hadn't been annoyed or anything when told that Duncan was squirting his spunk?
Then if English, Irish, Welsh and Scots boys were doing it, and I knew now that German boys did it, because I'd seen Hans tossing himself off, then boys all over the world must do it all the time. All boys, and generation after generation, all inquisitive, all horny.... That night this thought alone made me shoot my stuff twice more. So, I was a particularly horny boy of mixed English and French descent!
June 23rd 1944 - July 12th 1944
School was tedious. The only thing of interest was the news of our advances across France with, particularly, the capture of Caen. Pa was most interested in that news as he had been there as a schoolboy. Ma was very edgy all the time because she still had relatives in Alsace and had no idea how they were. The other news was the reports of the doodle-bugs, or V1 rockets, aimed at London mainly. Hal Beechly, Nobbo's cousin, told us his mother had telephoned about them because they seemed to appear out of nowhere and buzzed along, stopping and dropping and causing great devastation.
The Cadets especially were keeping abreast of any developments on the Continent, as Campion always called it. Tony said his father said there was a notice outside Liverpool Street Station which said Harwich for the Continent' and someone had added underneath and Clacton for the Incontinent'. We had a big map of Europe in the classroom and each day Danny Ross and Johnny Reed would moved the pins to show how the battle against the Nazis was going. Last month it was all about Italy, now it was France as well.
As the weather was getting very warm we spent most afternoons practising for the Sports Day. Georgie and Greg coached me with the javelin and we did a couple of runs - to get away from the crowd - and had a satisfying wank apiece each time. So, it wasn't all bad.
Also Nobbo's young cousin, Hal, turned out to be an avid wanker as well. I found this out on the first Saturday in July as Nobbo had asked the day before if I would like to go for a bike ride with him and Hal on the Saturday as he was bored - that is, Hal was - as he was home all day. Neither Cleggy nor Matt wanted to come and Tom was in one of his `not quite sure' moods, so just the three of us set out with admonitions to ride carefully and keep out of the way of the military trucks which were all over our area.
As it happened, the lanes we took out of the city were deserted and we went off towards a known beauty spot where there was an old ruined abbey which we could explore. We explored the abbey and Nobbo said he wanted a piss, so we all went into a side room where the walls were still quite high and had three leisurely slashes.
I looked across at Hal, who at just a few months younger than me was as tall, and he had his cock poking out of his flies pissing noisily. As I watched he looked across at me, lifted his cock, pulling his foreskin right back and pissed as high as he could up the wall. Not to be outdone I did the same and with a huge effort and the last few fluid ounces managed to get to the same height.
Nobbo had already finished but saw our competition.
"That's not the only thing he's good at, Jacko!" he said, grinning.
I knew then before anything else was said that my contemplations were going to be confirmed for another pair of boys. No, for another triple of boys!
He turned to Hal. "Bet you can't beat Jacko on you know what!"
Hal looked at me quickly and reddened slightly.
"Oh, come on, Hal, he knows about me and Billy and all the others just like I told you. He might as well find out about you."
Nobbo strode to the doorway. Then turned back.
"There's nobody for miles. Come on."
As good as his word he started to take off his shirt and dropped his shorts and underpants. His five and a half inch hardon was there for all to see. Hal looked at me. I winked and followed Nobbo's example. My shirt was off in a moment and my shorts and pants were kicked off, carefully in the opposite direction to where we had been pissing. I was glad my cock was only a fraction shorter than Nobbo's now as Hal was eying us both attentively.
Nobbo nodded his head at him and he was soon in the same state as us, hardon and all. It was quite uncanny. We were all black-haired, all with almost identical bushes, all with foreskins, and what's more, with almost identically sized shafts.
Nobbo was in charge. It wasn't going to be individual wanks! "OK, let Jacko do it to you first, then you can do me and I can do it to him. We'll see how we get on for seconds later!"
Nobbo watched as I grasped Hal's tool, standing just behind him. Hal gasped as I set up a steady pace and within a couple of minutes we were rewarded by the sight of four good spurts of milky come.
I stood still as Hal turned and Nobbo came up behind me and started to toss me off in his accustomed leisurely style.
"Shouldn't stand there, lad," he admonished Hal, who looked a bit puzzled at the statement. "You'll see why in a minute or two!" he said and nibbled at the back of my neck.
Hal stood to one side and I leaned back and let fly at the appropriate moment as Nobbo sensed my climax was building up and pulled my foreskin back very tautly for the last few crucial strokes. I gasped, and Hal gasped as my four almighty squirts flew past him and hit the ruined stone wall. I gripped Nobbo's hand to stop him taking me any further along the route from utmost pleasure to intense pain. I panted, taking in gulps of air.
"Christ, Jacko!" said Nobbo, "I've told you before, I've never seen anyone else produce that much, or fire it off so far, bloody volcano you are! Billy certainly didn't equal that - plenty of stuff usually, but not that force." He let go of my prick and it remained massively erect. "Blimey! Mine goes down very quickly after I come - but look at that!"
I looked over at Hal who was observing all this in silence and shrugged..
"Can't help it," I said demurely, "It's just the way I'm made!"
Hal smiled, "Tony's good at it, though, isn't he? I haven't see Billy do it but Tony's told me about him."
"Let's see what you can do for him," I said, pointing at Nobbo/Tony's erection.
Nobbo didn't let the Kerslake, nor his relative's, team down! He also produced a mighty first jet with three or four smaller ones to follow. He panted and puffed and, as Hal left go of his prick, it wilted fairy quickly, but still seemed much fatter than his normal droop.
"God, I do enjoy it!" he enthused after a few moments of getting his breath back.
Both Hal and I nodded in agreement and I knew Billy would have done too if he had been there.
"I wonder what Billy's doing this afternoon?" I mused, apropos nothing.
"Bloody square-bashing, I hope!" said Nobbo vehemently, "Teaching him to keep his hands off his prick."
"But what about you?" I asked, "Yours are on your's all the time, if not on other people's"
Nobbo snorted. Something was rankling him. It soon emerged.
"Bastard made me do it to him three times the night before he went off as he said it was the only thing he could think of which would remind him of me as there was nothing else! Selfish bastard would only do it to me once. Said I was an insatiable little prick and when I asked what did he think he was he rolled me up in the eiderdown and tickled me and told me to keep quiet or I'd wake Mum up and he would tell her I was a horny little boy and he was just stopping me masturbating as he'd heard it wasn't good for little boys! Just like him, he would have done it too as he was going off in the morning and leaving me alone at home to face Mum!" Hal and I were laughing as Nobbo ranted on, then his face softened and he smiled. "He did give me five pounds before he went to catch the train, though. And he said he'd hidden his diary, but I've found it!"
Ho, ho! Deciphering Billy's diary would be interesting! And five pounds was a lot of money but we knew Billy could afford it. So, if Billy had been selling his arsehole, as Nobbo had so delicately put it before, perhaps there were further clues in the diary. And, if he had been, what would happen now he was in the Army?
To be continued:...........