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 Two
I didn't pursue any of these thoughts with the pair of them as I didn't know how much Hal knew already. I would have to have a one-to-one session with Nobbo to find out more. Anyway, Nobbo was quite calm now and we wandered out of the ruined room on to the grassy slope behind the abbey. As it was sunny and very warm we sunbathed, in the nude, keeping a wary eye open for any intruders.
It was so peaceful and quiet I think I must have dozed off for a bit because I was woken, and aroused, by fingers being run slowly up and down my drooping cock very gently. I opened my eyes to see Hal squatting by my side watching my face intently with a grinning Nobbo the other side of me. The arousal was quick, my prick began to lengthen, fatten and stiffen just in those few seconds of Hal's light palpations.
I had woken to see his face looming near me. I glanced down and saw his rod was hard and was standing straight up his body with his almond-sized balls below in a tight sac as he squatted by my side.
"He's been itching to do that for the past ten minutes," said Nobbo. "You were fast asleep and shag-nasty here kept prodding me awake to see if it was time for more. I'm ready, are you?"
Well, I wasn't going to be beaten by friends or acquaintances. Being sun-warmed and slightly toasted I was ready. So, I was to be first this round.
We stood up, looking around to see if there were any trespassers on our privacy. Not a soul, just a balmy English summer's afternoon, so we sauntered back into the ruined room.
I was following Nobbo and Hal and noticed how pink their backs were with the beginnings of sunburn. My skin was much darker and I usually went brown almost immediately.
"Hey, Nobbo!" I said, "You've really caught the sun on your back." He turned, his chest was glowing pink as well. "So's your front. I hope your dick isn't burnt!"
Both of them laughed at this.
"It looks red enough already," said Hal, pointing at Nobbo's floppy tool, "More like a friction burn!"
That reminded me of what Mike had told me so I asked them how many wanks it would take to boil a kettle.
They both laughed again and Nobbo said we'd better try and find out. And so we did! I stood just about where I'd been before and it was Hal's turn to bring me to the summit of all boys' dreams on a warm summer's day. I asked him to go slowly and he gauged the pace very well. He whispered that there was just about enough friction to light my fire. My chest heaved as I giggled but it didn't detract from the wonderful sensations lower down. My rampant shaft was sticking straight up my body, my knob unsheathed and, as I peered down, I could see my minuscule piss slit just a tiny bit open each time Hal pulled down on my length. Hal was an accomplished masturbator. He knew exactly when my spunk-shooting apparatus was beginning to come to the boil and, as I leaned back, breathing deeply through my open mouth, he quickened his strike-rate and a goodly jet arched from my knob-end. Not so much, nor so far, this time, but it satisfied him as being a worthy whacker-off.
Nobbo moved over to him smartly and gripped his erect tool and gave him a wank using two fingers and a thumb with his foreskin drawn right back. His action was very precise, up and down, up and down, accompanied by a whispered litany, "Ninety-eight degrees, hundred and ten degrees, hundred and twenty degrees......" He was very exact, too, in his timing. His counting speeded up, as did his wanking-rate, and, as he sensed Hal's climax approaching, he was up to "Two hundred and eight degrees, two hundred and nine.., two ten, two eleven.." Hal's Etna vented. "Boil!!!" Nobbo cried out as he gave Hal's rigid dong three or four more powerful pulls as the spunk spurted freely. Hal was gasping loudly and he put both arms behind him and clutched Nobbo tightly to him. His output was meagre compared with mine but the feelings must have been so intense as his rising moans of "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, ohhhhowww!" indicated, matching the five squirts of his milky offering. His were the most vocal and varied sounds I'd heard from my pals for some time as they mainly contented themselves with low-voiced drawn-out "Oooooooohs" or "Aaaaaaaaaahs" with a "OW" or "Unnnh" thrown in for good measure. I think I was usually fairly silent, just deep breaths and exhalations of masses of spent carbon-dioxide.
I prised Nobbo away from him - Nobbo's stiff cock was firmly jammed in the crack of Hal's arse-cheeks and I wondered if they had, or might, experiment further! It didn't take much effort on my part to cause Nobbo's Vesuvius to erupt. I said it was just like a volcano too as he squirted upwards. Hal laughed and said these were old abbey ruins not Pompeii!
We decided it had been a marvellous day out as we cycled back home. Hal said he was enjoying living with Nobbo and his mum and was looking forward to meeting other of Nobbo's friends and joining the school. As he wasn't interested in the Boys' Brigade I suggested he came to St John's and he agreed we would meet up on Monday.
I was pretty tired after all the effort of the cycle ride and the lovely wanks so all I did that night in bed was contemplate how lucky I was to have such good friends and being able to go to such a good school and not have to endure being whacked on the arse by Masters of Discipline or headmasters of schools for naughty boys.
Sunday, I did my run and then lifted the two smaller weights thirty times as I had done each previous morning. I decided I would up the number starting Monday to thirty-five. My Milo of Croton habits were well ingrained!
All day Sunday I was still in a contemplative mood. I was aware I was thinking more and more about things and events about me. Where, in the past, I had just accepted things happened, I was now taking much more notice. I was thinking more and more about what people said and how they said things. I was questioning things more and although I would never upset my parents I did feel like saying 'no' sometimes! That day was an example. Ma was obviously worried about family in Europe and I suppose that made her edgy. She, of course, wanted me to practice my piano pieces as I had an exam before long. I wanted to sit in the garden and read so there were a few sharp words and I was admonished in English, French and German that boys whose socks were not elevated - sounds different in French - ils finira mal - would come to a sticky end! Verstehen! - dich zum Teufel!
This last was even a bit strong for Ma as she burst into tears and hugged me tight. I complied, and practised in the July heat for three-quarters of an hour!
I was very restless that night in bed. It was a hot night and I was lying on top of the covers, as usual in the nude, trying keep cool. I was still going over and over about my thoughts how all boys had to release their spunk regularly but no one ever talked freely about it. I wanted to know more and about all the little snippets I was learning about boys and girls. I only really knew Tony's sister Kats and Mike's sisters and even them not at all well. What were girlfriends? How did you get them and what happens. I had seen older boys in the cinema with girls and it seemed to be a plus to be seen with one. I wanted someone to talk to. I suppose I could have asked Duncan but he was not available, in any case I needed to discuss Tom's strange behaviour at Ulvescott with someone and I didn't think Duncan would have been the right person. Nor was Billy. I don't think I would have been able to unburden myself to Billy - I groped for a word - I think he would have been too frivolous. Yes, that was the word - frivolous!
I then had an odd thought. It struck me that someone I think I could have trusted and talked to was none other than Henry Gale. Just that meeting when I untied him and he spoke quite sincerely to me came back quite suddenly. He might have seemed a blusterer and bighead but I think he was 'fundamentally sound' as the saying went. No good, he was gone too, to serve King and Country. I thought a bit more and came to the conclusion that I would have to wait until I met up with my cousins at Grandpa's. I could trust Rhys. He was quite serious as well as being clever and funny. Yes, I would wait until then. But, before I could settle, there was another matter in hand. I had been idly stroking my ever erect cock all through these musings and, suddenly, I felt the great pulsations beginning and unloaded my day's ration of spunk all over my belly and chest. I felt immediately relieved and rested. Next thing I knew it was morning and I was getting a bit chilly!
School on Monday morning was very strange. I arrived, late as usual, as everyone was lining up to go inside. There was something on but I didn't find out until we were in the School Hall. Tim was playing the piano for entry as usual but it wasn't the usual jaunty piece but rather slow and solemn. All was revealed when the Head Beak strode onto the dais and Tim stopped playing. The Head looked around and I noticed that the masters who were already on the stage were all looking solemn. The Head said he some sad news to impart, the Reverend Blaise Campion had passed away suddenly on Saturday evening. He said that he would be sorely missed by his family and the school as he had been an Old Boy of the school as well. He then said things I hadn't really realised. Apparently, he had come out of retirement to teach at the school at the beginning of the War when the younger masters had been called up. He had been the well respected Headmaster of a school in Africa for many years before retiring back to England in 1936.
It was all rather sad. We moaned about Campion, but to be honest, he was always very fair, even Cleggy, who had got in the most trouble with him, admitted this. I felt very subdued. No one I knew closely had died. I didn't remember Ma's parents so their passing hadn't affected me. When the Head Beak announced from time to time that a former pupil had been killed in action, or was missing, presumed killed, we all were quiet and thought about it a bit but I hadn't known any of these as boys so they were distanced from me. I had known the Reverend Campion. He had taught me only the week before. It was a shock. Where did people go when they died? I had heard about Heaven and Hell but not having a religious upbringing I knew little about such things. I knew about funerals and I knew you got buried. But what then? More to contemplate for my growing, enquiring mind. More to talk to Rhys about.
Hal was waiting on our drive when I came back from my piano lesson. I introduced him to Ma who chatted to him while I rushed upstairs to change into my St John's uniform. Pat took him over when we arrived at the hall and Matt was all curious about who he was. I didn't enlighten him with any details other than he was Nobbo's cousin and we'd had a marvellous day out on Saturday. More his loss for not agreeing to come - no doubt he would have come copiously just like the three of us as well!!
All my earlier thoughts were churning around that night when I went to bed. For once, as a very rare occasion, I did not have a wank, I just dropped off in a rather dazed state.
I made up for that omission next morning. As soon as I returned from my run I had to have a wank. I'd been itching for one almost all the way round the park where I finished my run. For two pins I'd have gone in the bushes and downed my shorts and shot off there but I waited until I was back in my bedroom. It wasn't a leisurely wank either! It was no more than forty or fifty strokes, great speed towards the end, then whoosh! No finesse, but most satisfying. I made up for that rush in bed that night. Slow and sensuous and great gobbets of creamy spunk! Lovely.
Thursday after school Tom cycled home with me. He was rather pleased with himself as he had saved up all his earnings from the paper-round and his mother said he could buy himself a new bicycle. He had some other money from when his great-uncle had died so he was going to buy the best bike he could find. As there was only one bike shop in Kerslake, and there was a War on, the choice would be pretty limited! Anyway, would I go with him on Saturday morning to the cycle shop? I remembered that the cycle shop was part of the garage where Sean the boxer worked. So Saturday morning was fixed to satisfy his desires. He kept pawing at his cock area when he dismounted on the driveway to our house.
"Bloody pants," he complained, "They're much too tight."
Needless to say the 'bloody pants' were removed once we got up to my bedroom and he satisfied a much more urgent desire than for a bicycle.
Out of breath, but relaxed, he sat on my bed as I had to tell him all about the cycle trip with Nobbo and Hal. Tom was disappointed now that he hadn't joined us but explained his old bike was getting past any long journeys so that was why he had declined.
He laughed when I said about the cousin being astonished with my output. He said everyone was and I should be proud of it. For some reason that led to him saying that even though Dunc had only been gone a short while he and his mother had received several letters detailing what was happening to him. The latest had said that he was going soon for interviews and tests with a view to going straightaway to Officer Training School. I showed him the pips which Gunner Roberts had given me which I carried in my jacket pocket all the time. I said his brother would have pips like those once he was commissioned. He was very proud of his brother and the thought of him in officer's uniform was a very cheering idea.
Ma and Pa arrived home before he went and they were impressed by Tom's new- found loquacity retelling the experiences of his brother.
On Friday, after school, Nobbo pounced on me as we left the last lesson.
"Got to talk to you!" he said emphatically, "It's urgent!"
What could be urgent for an usually unflappable Nobbo? I suggested he came back home with me as something was bothering him and he made it clear he didn't want to go home yet.
The bother was unfolded as we sat in the kitchen having a cup of tea. Nobbo looked around to see that no one was listening even though I had assured him both Ma and Pa were at work but he was somewhat agitated.
"It's that Hal!" he started, "Does it all the time and makes me too!"
I shook my head. What was he on about? Of course, the story then got coherent. Young Hal was at home all day, bored, so what did he do? Wank. He had told Nobbo he was doing it at least three times during the day while Nobbo was at school and Mrs Clarke was at the hospital. Then, as soon as Nobbo arrived home from school Hal wanted to do it to him and for the past four nights Hal had tossed him off three times each night. Not only that but Hal had had a fourth one as well. Nobbo's question was whether three or four a day was excessive? How the hell should I know! Nobbo said he was also a bit sore as Hal was none too gentle.
'Dr' Thomson was being consulted again! I kept a straight face as I said I knew of one boy - mentioning no names but thinking of Pat Halloran - who said it did it twenty-six times a week quite regularly. I envisaged Nobbo's cogs working as he calculated that was nearly four times a day. He grinned as the average struck him. I then confessed my record was eighteen a week. He stopped me.
"Who was it? The boy who told you he did it all those times?"
I laughed and shook my head. "He actually told me he'd done it six times one day, so you and Hal have a bit more to go."
"Go on, tell me," he persisted, "Was it Matt?"
I shook my head again. "No, his record's twenty-two in a week." I paused. "I might as well tell you - you don't know him anyway. It's Pat Halloran."
"Pat Halloran? He boxes, doesn't he?"
I nodded.
"Crumbs! Is that true?"
"SJAB honour," I said, "So, I shouldn't worry, but it looks as if Hal's going to beat Pat if he keeps it up!"
"Keep it up," retorted Nobbo, "It's up all the time. He sits on the bottom bunk all evening fingering it when I'm trying to do some school work. Then he whines because I won't talk to him... and then he....."
I couldn't help it. I just laughed. Lucky sod. Having his own wanking machine ready and waiting. I said so and at least he saw the funny side. He shrugged his shoulders and said he'd get used to it. Still he wouldn't do anything as he said, not too ruefully, he expected he would have to be ready and wanting that evening - what about the weekend!
He then wanted to know what I was doing over the summer holidays. I said that Matt and I were going to my grandparents for about three weeks and then - I didn't know. He said he hoped he could get Cleggy to spend time with him and Hal. I had a bright idea - Tom would be at a loose end. Paper-round, new bike and nothing else to do. Settled. Nobbo would ask him on Monday.
I thought of Nobbo and Hal that evening in bed. I had thought of them earlier as soon as Nobbo had left. That was once. The second thoughts was once again. And that was... counting up... twelve times over the week. Hmm... nowhere near Pat's outpourings but enough for me.
Saturday morning I met up with Tom as I finished my run and helped him complete the paper-round. I didn't say he was in for an adventurous summer but promised I would be ready for half-past nine to go to the bike-shop.
At breakfast Ma reminded me I was on parade that afternoon with the St John's at the War Effort Fund-raising Rally in the centre of the town. I had completely forgot so I was warned to be home sharpish so I could be ready to leave at half-past one for the two o'clock start.
Anyway, Tom's expedition was a great success. The man at the bike-shop produced a real beauty which he said he'd got in stock just before the War. As there was a tiny bit of rust on one of the brake mechanisms he took us into the garage to have it seen to. The job was given to Sean who greeted me like a long-lost brother.
"Och, hello," he enthused, "You cured my arm. Look!" He rolled up a rather oily sleeve and there was a thin scar, well-knitted and healed. "Doesn't usually go so quick." He rolled up the other sleeve. There was a second, this time, even more nasty cut, all red and raw. "Hurts like hell!" he grimaced as he said it, "Did that Thursday."
"You really ought to wash it carefully and put a bandage on it, or a plaster," I said with no authority at all.
"Yeah, mum said I should as well. Thought it would be OK by today."
More advice from me. "There's a chemist opposite, why don't you go in there at lunch-time and get him to look at it and put a bit of antiseptic on it. It looks very inflamed."
He grinned and looked around. Tom was standing watching, silently.
"You certainly cured Charlie with that ointment," he said, sniggering, "Keeps that bandage with that stuff on it by his bed in case!"
Tom was goaded into action.
"What's that?" he asked.
"Oh," I said, nonchalantly, "Just another of the boxers I had to tend to at the match."
Tom was satisfied - I would enlighten him later - he might need some of that ointment once Hal was let loose on him! I would have to ask Matt if he had any to spare!
The bike was duly dealt with and Tom's old one was left for scrap for the war effort. I secretly thought the bike-dealer would probably do it up and sell it but Tom wasn't concerned. He was now the proud owner of a first-class racer. It certainly put my old bike to shame. Still I was very attached to it. I'd had it for my eleventh birthday and apart from putting the saddle higher as I grew it seemed in perfect order to me.
I explained I was going to help as a First Aider at the rally and he said he might cycle down and see what was going on. Actually, not much went on. The portly man was there with Mr Halloran in charge. I was joined by Pat Halloran and Matt and there were a number of men and ladies all in SJAB uniform. We stood and listened as the local MPs harangued the sizeable crowd - not much else to do on a Saturday afternoon as the football season was over - and encouraged people to Save for Victory. Pretty boring but essential for the War Effort. At the end the three of us, Tom Matt and me, cycled off home. We called in at Tom's and Mrs Buchanan was out. Tom said she was helping at the Services canteen that evening so he had to fend for himself. We helped him demolish half a loaf and spread thick slices with butter and jam. Tom said they were lucky in that they had Dunc's rations until the end of the month so had a bit extra. I pointed out not after we'd had the butter! Tom made a face and said he hadn't realised we ate so much. Fool!
We trooped up to his bedroom after that with him still extolling the virtues of his new bicycle. I slung my SJAB beret at him and asked if he had any other topic of conversation. He looked more than downcast - he hadn't even slung the beret back - and I knew I'd upset him. I couldn't do that. Dunc had put me in charge of Tom and it would soon be the end of the school term and I would be away with Matt in Cheshire. I patted the bed on which I was sitting.
"Hey, Tom," I said in my best consoling voice,"Come and sit here. I didn't mean to shut you up like that. I think your bike's smashing. I suppose I'm a bit jealous....." Lying through my teeth, partly... "....I suppose I need a new bike sometime, too."
Tom lumped down beside me. "Yeah, that old thing will fall to bits someday." He nudged me and pointed at Matt who was idly thumbing through an album of photos on the dressing-table. Matt must have been alerted by the silence. He looked round and saw us sitting together on the bed.
"Is this your dad in here?" He pointed at a photo in the album.
Tom inclined his head. "Bring it over here and we'll have a look."
Matt carried the book over and I scuttled down the bed a bit to make room for Matt in between us.
"Yeah, that's him," said Tom as Matt pointed to a very tall man in police uniform with two boys beside him, one about eight and the other not yet a teenager. "That's me and that's Duncan. Dad had just been made an Inspector." He paused and looked at the photo. "He was the youngest Inspector in the county so mum says. He's in India now. He's a Major in the Redcaps - you know, the Military Police." He turned back a couple of pages. "That's when he was in the Rugby Team."
Well, well, I stared at the photograph. There was Pa as well, unmistakeably Pa, but much younger. The date on the ball in the photo was March 1934. Ha, Ha, Ha, Pa had a moustache then!
"And that's my dad," I exclaimed, pointing, "I haven't seen that photo before. Gosh, I was only four then and I don't remember him playing. Ma said your dad brought him and some others home after a match and they were drunk!"
Tom sniggered. "My dad doesn't drink. Said he saw enough of it in Scotland when he was a boy."
"That looks like Van there," interrupted Matt pointing at a seated figure next to Pa.
Oh, so that's how Pa and Ma know him. I recollected something about a rugger background.
"Yes," said Tom, "He always tells me I'm like dad and he hopes I'll play as well as him. He said one day that dad could have had a trial for Scotland but turned it down because he was only just in the police force. I wonder if that's true? I forgot to ask Dunc."
Matt slowly turned the pages. There weren't a lot of photos but they showed mainly the two boys, getting older and bigger with Duncan always looking rather quizzically at the camera. There was one of the two of them on a beach somewhere, both in old-fashioned light-coloured bathing suits. Even at the age of twelve or so young Duncan had quite a bulge showing. Then I realised the horny bugger was actually standing slightly sideways so the bulge would show.
"Your brother's showing all he possesses there," I said, pointing at the covered genitalia. "He was a big boy at twelve, eh?"
"Hunh," muttered Tom, "It didn't grow much."
Another reference to the smallness of Dunc's dick. If he was to be forthcoming from his own experience perhaps Matt would comment but he remained silent. Instead Matt turned back the pages of the book and pointed at Pa.
"He's got knobbly knees. Have you, Jacko?"
The black and white photo seemed to highlight the general boniness of several sitting in the front row of the picture. I didn't think Pa's knees looked any knobblier than the others. Matt would have to be dealt with!
"What about yours, Chopper-boy!" I said, sliding a hand under the book spread on his legs and clutching at his leg just above the knee and squeezing. He yelped and Tom, very deftly, removed the book and put it under the bed. I squeezed again and Matt made a feeble attempt to remove my hand. Tom looked at me and winked and grabbed Matt's other leg and gave that an almighty squeeze which I copied on his other leg. Matt fell forward trying to extricate himself from the twin grasping hands. As one, Tom and I used our other arms to push him upright and then spreadeagled him on his back with his lower legs flailing as we squeezed his lower thighs again. This time he squealed.
"Bet you've got knobbly little knees," I said moving my free hand down and quickly undoing his flies. In moments a flailing Matt was stripped. Shoes, socks, went flying over the bed, his SJAB grey blouse was off, together with trousers and underpants and cast to the four corners of the room. A long floppy cock was revealed together with a pair of shapely legs and decidedly non-knobbly knees. Our hands gripped him above those knees again while we held him down with the others.
"No, there not knobbly, but, look...," said Tom, lowering his head a bit and blowing air through his pursed lips, ".....He's got a knobbly cock, though."
The draught of warm air on said cock had an almost immediate effect. Like a miniature Zeppelin it swelled, lengthened a bit and rose along his thigh and then moved to a central position stretching up his belly. Tom continued to blow on it as the monster revealed itself.
"'Sweet gales may fan you'" sang Tom in a cracking voice. He looked over at me. "Mum used to sing that when she put me to bed."
I was nearly wetting myself with silent laughter. Tom had hidden depths and Matt was a squirming monstrosity.
"Certainly knobbly," I said letting go of his leg which he began to kick up and down violently and helplessly. "Cocks don't come much knobblier than that."
I ran a finger round the base of the fat knob encased in his foreskin.
"I think we should inspect his knobbly cock a bit more closely in case it needs attention," I declared, gently catching hold of said knobbly cock at the ridge and slowly pulling down on his foreskin so his knobbly rosy knob popped out.
"Look, Tom." I said, mischievously and with intent, "His knobbly knob goes....," Here I pushed the foreskin forward to recover the pink lump... "...And here it comes...." I retracted the foreskin between thumb and gentle finger again. I repeated this quite slowly several times, "...here it goes....." "...and here it comes...."
Matt stopped kicking his free leg and squirmed instead, because, each time I retracted his foreskin Tom squeezed his leg. It took about forty repetitions, with the rosy knob darkening until it became a deep shade of red before, just as I said "... and here it comes....", Matt called out, "OWWWWWWW" and let fly. I held his rigid prong up away from his belly. Gobbets of spunk flew from his slit landing on his chin, throat and chest.
Tom let go of Matt's leg and as Matt lay back regaining his breath after that stupendous orgasm Tom had stripped off too and quickly knelt over Matt on the bed. Tom's short fleshy dong was rigid. He leaned down over Matt's open mouth and pulled his own foreskin back as he pressed his prick into Matt's waiting mouth. Matt immediately started sucking on it greedily breathing deeply through his flared nostrils. I wasn't going to be left out of this so my clothes joined the others on the floor round the bed. I was fully erect but I only had to wait a few seconds more before with a final clenching of his buttocks Tom's spunk flooded into Matt's mouth. I heard Matt swallowing noisily as he attempted to take down Tom's load. Tom sat up and the last couple of small spurts went over Matt's face.
Matt looked so pleased as he pushed on Tom's leg, indicating he should move off. He must have still got a mouthful of spunk when he motioned me to lie down on the bed and slid off the bed before taking almost all my rampant five and half inches straight into his mouth. He sucked and licked and moved his head up and down so my un-retracted foreskin rubbed against the very sensitive head of my cock. I felt the gooey cum he already had in his mouth make my shaft slimy and lubricated. Well, if that pair had come quickly and copiously I outdid both. A minute of sucking was enough. I felt the incredible feelings under my balls start so early - I had been revving up to this while manipulating Matt's column and watching the awesome way in which Tom had shot his load - and my load was truly immense. If Tom had flooded Matt's mouth mine was a tidal wave. It didn't catch Matt unawares, he just couldn't cope with the force nor the amount. Luckily he took it into his mouth upwards because, as he tried to swallow, so spunk poured out between his lips and my still rigid pole. Luckily, also, I was lying down. I think I would have collapsed otherwise. I was drained, not only of spunk, but all energy. I just closed my eyes and sighed deeply. Matt took his mouth away from my prick and it flopped wetly against my belly. I heard him swallow and audibly lick his lips. I opened my eyes and watched an amazing thing. Tom reached out and clutched at Matt and they were then glued to each other's lips for about ten seconds or so.
They parted and both, simultaneously, murmured, "Thanks".
I sat up and caught Matt round his bare legs. "Any left for me? It's mine isn't it?"
"Mixed, I think," he said quietly, grinned and fixed his lips over mine. I opened my mouth and his still sticky tongue brushed against mine. The heady scent of boy spunk from the squirts from himself and Tom on his face and neck was most apparent as we shared the remains of his two friend's quite dramatic orgasms.
What an afternoon. I remarked if a War Effort rally led to that every time, well, I was ready and willing to support the War Effort, whenever!
We rescued our clothing and laughing quietly got dressed again. It was then as we chatted about the imminent end of the school term with Sports Day and Speech Day that I said to Tom that Nobbo and his cousin would be glad to see him if he was at a loose end. I grinned mentally as I imagined his end would not be very loose once Hal got his hands on him. I said Cleggy would be around as well so Tom agreed that was a good idea for him as he liked Cleggy.
All this chat and activity meant that time had flown. Not only that the room on this Summer's day was stiflingly hot - and when I came back from a quick piss in the lav I noticed there was a general aroma of young adolescent sweat and spunk.
"You'd better open a couple of windows in here before your mum comes home."
Tom looked at me questioningly.
"It's hot in here and it stinks," I said emphatically. "I blame Matt, his sister says he stinks!"
Poor Matt. A second friend to look downcast. I went up to him and put an arm round his shoulder.
"No, Matt, it's all of us! Smells hot and sweaty....."
"....like a Turkish wrestler's jockstrap!" completed Tom.
Matt and I stared at him then we began to laugh. What a wonderful saying!
"Where did you hear that?" I asked amidst giggles.
"Oh, Dunc always said it when he came in here. Always said I stink."
"Place does now," I said as Tom went across and opened a window, "That's better, a cooling breeze!"
On that note Matt and I left Tom's, said our cheerios and went our separate ways.
While we were eating supper I said to Pa that Tom had shown me a photo of him in the Rugger team in 1934. He groaned and said that was in his youth. Ma looked across the table at him.
"You've never grown up. All men are the same. They're all little boys expecting their mothers or wives to feed and look after them. And playing rough games! You only gave that up when the War started and they couldn't get a team! And I suppose he'll be the same. All this running and now those weights!"
I'd never heard Ma in that mood before. I thought it best to keep quiet and so did Pa. I never even got a wink from him which often occurred when Ma got a bit uptight. This evening she was a bit more than uptight.
Those weights were raised forty times that night as I stood in front of the mirror, in the nude, before getting into bed. I liked what I saw. A slender, well-built boy, dark-haired with nice legs, a flat stomach, growing black patches of hair under his arms, a beginning to curl abundantly black bush above a hanging cock and two shapely balls in a slightly swinging sack. At least it was a hanging cock when I started lifting but it was fully upright by the fortieth. I put the dumbbells down carefully, retrieved my trusty towel from the chair, switched out the light, crawled into bed, my hand already on my cock and, within minutes, a warm shower of my abundant boyish spunk landed on my chest. I lay rested and content. Two wonderful sensations today. If this was youth I couldn't get enough of it!
I was up and about early, I did my run and saw nobody. I got back even before Tom left to get his papers as I saw him leave when I was back in my bedroom and peered out of the window. I thought about Ma's scratchiness of the night before, also that I had a piano exam next Saturday, so I decided, even though the sun was shining brightly, to put in some extra practice today. Breakfast was ready -mothers have to feed their growing sons, I thought, - as I went downstairs after changing from my rather sweaty running kit. I thought also of Turkish wrestlers but couldn't really get any mental images other than Matt and his encased cock in his jockstrap. Whoa, boy I didn't want a hardon by the time I reached the bottom of the stairs. Ma was in a better mood and asked about the rally and who was there. I said about Tom's new bike and that it had been truly inspected. That satisfied her curiosity about where I'd been for the couple of hours or so after the rally. I didn't say Matt had been truly inspected as well and had satisfied both Tom and me most adequately.
Odd, Ma didn't use any other language than English this morning. So I surprised her by saying, in French, that I had a piano exam later in the week and I had better practice. As soon as I finished I realised that was the first time I had ever initiated a conversation in a different language with Ma. Ma smiled and said, in German, this time, that I was perfection - at least I think that was the best translation! I scuttled off to the dining-room and played for well over an hour. I knew I was getting better and thoroughly enjoyed myself. Pa came in as I took the book of Studies I had just finished playing from the music-rest and closed the piano lid.
"Trip out to Alvescot this afternoon. Need to see Henry Gardiner. Car ride? You could ask Tom if he wants to come."
Just before lunch I went next door but one and found Tom in the kitchen, with his mum, still in his Boys' Brigade uniform. He looked so pleased to be asked and his mum looked pleased too. I knew Tom was missing his brother.
While Pa was indoors talking to Mr Gardiner Tom and I wandered round the large garden. We'd been told we could sample the soft-fruits so raspberries and strawberries were devoured eagerly even though we had both had large lunches. Mr Gardiner and Pa came out shortly after and the four of us walked out into the lane by the house just to enjoy the countryside. I walked with Mr Gardiner who told me that they'd heard from Chris that week and although the letter was censored they guessed he was flying in Italy. Pa was chatting to Tom who seemed quite relaxed.
Mrs Gardiner gave us tea with fresh bread and cakes. She said Chris had been a hearty eater and she was glad we were. I felt quite stuffed afterwards. All this good food would help me grow!
It was quite late when we got back. Tom went home and I stayed in the garage and put some oil on my bike chain which had a tendency to squeak. I suppose I felt a bit lonely. I enjoyed being with Tom and there he was, only two doors away, lonely as well. I finished the job and went indoors. Ma was in a much better mood. In fact, she insisted I had more food. Bliss! In bed that night, I consoled my lonely self again. Bliss!
Sports Day loomed on Wednesday. Lots of excitement but our House was depleted because so many of the Sixth Formers had already gone. Still I came first in the Half-Mile and third in the discus and the javelin. Tom won each of his events, hurdles, hundred yards and two hundred yards. The two-arch wankers, Greg and Georgie did well also - their stamina not diminished by countless cigarettes and fervent masturbation. I heard this comment from one of the Sixth Formers who didn't realise I was listening in and knew exactly what he was referring to! He did say "Bloody Hell, you wouldn't believe it, all those fags and tossing off and they both beat me!", but I did the translation!
I would be presented with a medal for winning the Half-Mile on Speech Day and Ma promised she would be there!
Thursday 13th July - Friday 21st July
My piano exam came and went very satisfactorily on Saturday. Tim Parker was there and he told me his teacher had decided he should really do Grade 8 so he had. I knew this was the highest grade to do before you took the exams for letters after your name. He said his brother had gone down to London to take his LRAM for cello and was very pleased at the way the session had gone. I celebrated feeling pleased with myself that night with two very satisfactory wanks. And I resolved I would try to get to Grade 8 myself. I wondered if I might get further. Mrs Tring, my music teacher, had LRAM after her name. I giggled to myself, LRAM, perhaps, Licentiate of the Royal Academy of Masturbation would be my only hope!
Ma was most insistent I looked particularly clean and tidy for Speech Day. As this was held in the Kerslake Royal Theatre to accommodate all the school, plus parents, at three o'clock, there was no morning school except for those who came in on buses.
So with Ma and Mrs Buchanan in tow, Tom and I walked the half-mile or so down to the main town where the theatre was. It was all very formal. The Head with all the beaks, begowned, were on the stage with the Chairman of the Governors, the Mayor and the Town Clerk. I wondered what the Chairman would say today and was not disappointed when he referred to these 'ranks of upright young men'. I knew I would be upright that night, along with the great majority of those of my age-group!
I got two prizes as well as the medal. I was awarded two book prizes for coming first in the Mathematics and the French examinations. Matt was overjoyed as he got a Progress Prize for Maths and even Huggy gave him a beaming smile as he went forward to collect it. I think the most surprised had been Nobbo who, against all his beliefs of what he knew, was awarded the book prize for Latin. He and Cleggy got a Science prize each and Tony Marcham got the overall Form Prize. So, Tony had beaten me - I wasn't surprised - he was brainy and knew lots because he was an avid reader. Perhaps I didn't work quite hard enough. Anyway, Ma was pleased and she and Mrs Buchanan took Tom and me to the local Lyons tea shop for afternoon tea!
School ended next day with a flurry of instructions for the coming school year to begin on Thursday September the Seventh. Until then I was free, free as a bird. The summer holidays were before me! Seven weeks!! Hurrah!!! Hurrah!!!!
On Friday arrangements were made for Matt and me to proceed to Cheshire. Matt came over in the morning as we had to go to the railway station to book our tickets and make sure of the trains and the connections. That wasn't too difficult and we were back well in time for lunch which Ma had left for us. She was coming back during the afternoon to supervise my packing. Both of us were too excited to want to indulge and Matt went off as soon as he had scoffed his share of the eats saying I wasn't to be late in the morning like I was usually for school. Cheek! I wasn't too excited that night except in one way and that was.... OOOOOOW!
To be continued:............