Date: Thu, 21 Apr 2016 09:33:29 +0100
From: tom <amias09@fastmail.fm>
Subject: LabTech Chapter 41

The Lab Technician

Authors note: Usual caveats and warning apply, read this at your own risk,
no representation of any person, animal, vegetable or mineral intended
although if you do find yourself somewhere in this story with any of the
aforementioned just think yourself very, very lucky!

As ever all comments, ideas, suggestions, good bad or indifferent always
welcome.

Tom
email: amias09@fastmail.fm

#######################################################################

Chapter 41 – We'll help each other

f
"Where are you going so early on a Saturday morning, it's not even ten
o'clock?"

"It's that newsagent innit, I get five quid for tiding up the stockroom, he
wants me to do it over a couple of Saturdays mornings." said Martin. "Don't
you remember?"

"Sorry, I'd forgotten." said Hugh. "See if you can get us some free papers
then!"

"Don't think he gives much away." Martin headed for the door at high speed
with visions of some very naughty adult magazines and a five pound note
flashing before his eyes. "Gotta go now dad and get me bike."

"Hang on a second, look I've got to go out with mum to look at a new fridge
or something for her mother," Hugh raised his eyes, "just so we know are
you going to be back by lunchtime?"

"Yeah, I hope so. Then it'll be just Andy here then?"

"Yes, well he's a big boy now and I'm sure he'll manage for a couple of
hours on his own!" replied Hugh. "Ride carefully."



With the general top-shelf taboos that prevailed at the time for any
teenager, it was for Martin genuinely a chance in a lifetime to examine
adult pornography and he was determined, no matter how embarrassing it
might be even if caught in the act to take full advantage of it whilst he
could.

Actually, Martin rather liked the idea of working for Mr Maxwell and did
indeed ride carefully although if a little quickly, arriving at the shop
just before ten and feeling distinctly aroused. He dismounted, thoughts of
what the stockroom could offer coupled with the fact he had purposely
managed to resist masturbation that morning had ensured his cock was
already swollen. Rearranging it as best he could through his pocket he
hoped it wouldn't be noticed he entered the shop.

"Ah, Martin, good." Mr Maxwell looked up from behind the counter and
immediately checked Martin's fly for signs of a bulge, as hoped he hadn't
been disappointed.

"Hello." Martin smiled warmly. He had already convinced himself that Mr
Maxwell was not a predator, but simply a very nice man who, solely for
altruistic reasons was going to impart the ways of the adult world to him
though the medium of the printed page, well that and some pornographic
magazines. Neither was, nor could Martin's judgement be skewed in any way
by the excess of pornography available!

"D'you know I just thought of you and wondered if you'd remembered." Mr
Maxwell smiled back, in fact he had thought quite a bit about Martin the
previous evening.

"Yeah, I been thinking about it all as well," replied Martin
enthusiastically, "I thought if I sorted out them fags and chocolate stuff
this week, then I could do all them magazines and that sorta thing properly
next time."

"Wow, very organised, that sounds a great idea."

Mr Maxwell pushed himself into the counter, having deliberately worn a
short sleeved summer shirt that didn't need tucking into his trousers his
ever expanding cock was easily hidden.

"Really?"

"Definitely, but you might have to do a little bit on sorting the
magazines, so I've got enough stock left to put out for next week."

"Oh, I'll do whatever you say." Martin smiled again. There was certainly
something about Mr Maxwell that attracted him, maybe it was that he only
looked thirty, not forty and had such a relaxed manner when it came to sex
and pornography.

"Fine." Mr Maxwell smiled again. He didn't really couldn't care what, if
any actual work Martin did just so long as he became so aroused by the
pornography that had been planted for him to find, better still if it led
Martin to be unable to masturbation.

"Yeah, I'll do wotever you wants." Martin turned towards the door to the
stockroom. "Shall I go and get started then?"

"Yes do, you do sound very organised." Mr Maxwell opened the stockroom door
and waved Martin inside. "I'll pop in and see how you're doing in a few
minutes."

Inside it looked much as it had done the previous week, whilst some of the
stock appeared to have been moved about, Big Julie's ginormous breasts were
still on display. Martin pushed his hand into his jeans pocket to feel for
his own erection, looking furtively around he confirmed the door was closed
and immediately flipped open one of the magazines to the centre
pages. Confronted by a glossy whole page colour picture of a peroxide blond
disporting her undoubtedly moist wares through a pair of torn fishnet
tights he just stared and stared. The thought uppermost in his mind being
how would he get his cock, which he had to admit was by no means the
largest into what looked like a very tiny slit between her legs, if indeed
that were what he assumed should happen during fornication.

"I see you're checking the stock then?" said Mr Maxwell from behind him.

Martin visibly jumped, went white and then immediately bright red
withdrawing his hand from his pocket to leave an incredible bulge for Mr
Maxwell to focus on. He'd been caught already and hadn't even been in the
room five more than minutes!

"Oh fuck!" like an idiot he looked down only further emphasising his
erection and annoyed with himself muttered. "Bollocks!"

"Well, don't worry about it, it's only natural for a lad who's growing like
you are. I know I'd be doing exactly the same thing at your age," he
winked, "I'm sure you know what I mean!"

"Uumm.." even more embarrassed at what solo pleasures were being hinted at
Martin gulped, since the growth in his jeans was indeed quite unmistakable.

Mr Maxwell's slow drip feed of subversive sexual innuendo was taking it's
effect as Martin, already very aroused was now being not so subtly urged to
examine all the available pornography. Portraying himself as a man of the
world surrounded by heterosexual pornographic magazines, Mr Maxwell
appeared to be very encouraging towards Martin's interest in girls, even if
on occasion he alluded to over-excited boys and masturbation. From Martin's
perspective, coloured as it was with unfettered access to more pornography
than he dreamt possible, it seemed that Mr Maxwell's interest's were all
girl orientated. In which case he would be perfectly safe and that maybe
even consider some on the job relief in the stockroom when left alone!

"You obviously didn't heard me coming back in." said Mr Maxwell, almost as
though catching an adolescent ogling a pornographic magazine with a truly
throbbing cock in his trousers were an everyday occurrence. If only it
were.

"No. No I didn't." mumbled Martin, too embarrassed to look him in the face.

"I can't really leave the shop as it's busy, but I just popped in to say,
over there in the corner on top of those cardboard boxes," he pointed
across the room, "there are some, shall I say special orders, which usually
get collected on a Saturday, so it'll be easier for me if you don't tidy
them away."

"Oh right. Sorry, wot are special orders then?" Martin's heart momentarily
hastened. Could special orders mean hard pornography and anyway, why was it
called hard?

"Ah, yes. Well, special orders are for a few very discerning customers who
like certain types of magazine that are difficult to get hold of, if you
know what I mean."

"Oh... special orders?"

Mr Maxwell moved to the doorway, not though before he had again noted the
bulge in Martin's jeans and of equal interest the sight of some very
familiar white ribbed cotton showing were the bottom shirt button was
unfastened. "You'll see them as you work your way round, just leave them in
the corner so I know where they are."

"Oh.. I see.." Martin didn't really see at all. The only thing he did see
on glancing towards the boxes in the corner were a few magazines piled on
top.


"I'll leave you to it then." Mr Maxwell closed the door behind him.




It wasn't very often that Andy was left alone in the house for a couple of
hours and on realising everybody was going to be out he had quickly
formulated a plan to take full advantage of the situation. Indulging
himself in sexual fantasy without having the interminable worry that the
occasional squeak from a bedspring giving his solo activities away would be
a real luxury. Although he was already dressed it didn't take him long to
get undressed, after prancing around naked stroking his erection he finally
stopped to select a pair of his old Y-fronts from the chest of drawers.

Dressed in just the briefs his next stop was the bathroom for lubricant,
the kitchen provided a suitable vegetable phallus and finally Martin's room
for the excitement. It couldn't be said that Martin's bed had been made,
more that the covers had just been thrown back on top, Andy quickly pulled
them back to reveal pale green striped pyjamas bundled up in a ball. With
shaky hands he carefully unfolded them and began his examination by deeply
inhaling his brother's smell from the trousers. So minute was his
examination that he even found a pubic hair stuck amongst blotches of dried
semen and pee stains around the fly. The conclusion was that Martin must
have recently produced a considerable quantity of spunk since the bottom
corners of the jacket revealed stains that had soaked through from the
trousers and even the pyjama cord was positively yellow. Exciting as it
was, what it didn't show and what Andy was really hoping for and that was
the slimy evidence of that particular mornings discharge. It was indeed a
puzzle, for it seemed highly improbable that Martin could have resisted
masturbating before getting up on a Saturday morning. Andy reasoned to
himself that surely no fifteen year old boy could awake on a weekend
replete with the mandatory erection and not resort to some form of sexual
gratification. A sticky problem indeed.

With a final sniff of the pyjama trousers he moved on to inspect the
bedding for signs of semen of which there were plenty, but nothing fresh
enough to indicate that it was from that very morning either. Slightly
disappointed, but with one more avenue of exploration left he rolled off
the bed and onto the floor to disappear under the bedframe, reappearing
seconds later smiling to himself and clutching some grubby white material.

After the debacle on the landing carpet when Adam having gone off wearing
the old briefs which Martin had been using to absorb frequent bedroom
discharges, it meant he had to find something else to save the laundry and
avoid his mother's obsession with washing. In fact, what he had decided to
do was to use the sodden Y-fronts that Adam had originally left behind,
once they had been dried under the bed.

Andy, thinking he now had Martin's briefs found to his absolute delight
there were vast swathes of dried semen stains and that having been
scrunched up under the bed even some still wet patches, smelling strongly
of semen which he correctly assumed were from the previous night. The
temptation to actually wear them proved so irresistible that seconds later
he was standing there, the head of his cock nestling in the wet pouch which
Martin had ejaculated into only hours before. Throwing his own pair of
briefs under the bed in exchange he disappeared back to his own room
excitedly rubbing his cock as he went.

On the floor by the side of the bed were the tools to complete the job in
hand, his mothers Nivea hand lotion and an unsuspecting, medium sized
carrot which was to double as either Adam and Robin depending on how his
fantasy developed. Acutely aware of what had happened on the previous
occasion when he had begun to anally entertain a similar carrot only to be
interrupted by Adam, this time he was fully prepared to rapidly curtail the
proceedings with clothes and an old towel to hand.

Prepared or not, sex with an excess of Nivea lotion and a carrot promised
to be a delightfully messy undertaking. Culminating in everything literally
dripping in the sweet smelling Nivea, a concoction that whilst fine as an
aid to frictionless masturbation was just a little too fluid for anal
purposes. Wearing the Y-fronts and having decided to attempt the rear entry
manoeuvre lying on his side, there was problem. Unlike the extended
fantasies and finger orientated practice session fumblings at bedtime, when
actually using the carrot and lubricant things were all to soon coming to a
head. In fact he was so excited a climax was threatening even before he had
managed to insert the second finger!

Not wishing to trigger a deluge of semen so soon, he slowly withdrew his
hand and waited motionless hoping the orgasm would subside and allow him to
continue or to at least insert the carrot before major ejaculation
occurred. It worked, albeit with some dribbles of precum mingling with the
Nivea lotion now so copiously daubed over everything and naturally, inside
every bodily orifice. It coated both hands, his entire lower body and the
carrot. The anal excess oozed temptingly from his bottom to be
theoretically absorbed by the white briefs, although since the threadbare
cotton offered little in the absorbency stakes it was the bedding which was
to be the main beneficiary.

Under such circumstances it was pretty obvious to Andy that ejaculation was
imminent and whilst he did his best to prolong the pleasure, it would only
be a couple of minutes later before he found himself verging on what
promised to be a truly divine experience. This time he was to really excel
himself for when the climax came it was almost on the Richter scale, his
pulsing cock continuing to pump semen into the sagging briefs for nearly a
minute. He shook, he trembled, he jerked, hot spunk flew everywhere and
anywhere, the smell was overpowering, it was even in his hair and over the
pillows.

Exhausted, there was nothing else to do except fall back in the slimy
briefs and get his breath back. That was, other than to continue massaging
his quivering erection with the glorious, spunky, Nivea mixture and think
of Adam. Amazingly, he was not disturbed and a few minutes later shook
himself awake to survey the scene to find that what was once a gloriously
hot, spunky, Nivea mixture was now a cold and very glutenous mess!

What it was that really turned him on about wearing semen infused
underpants he had no idea, but it most certainly did and that was all there
was to it. Inevitably having just produced such an enormous quantity to add
to the surfeit of hand lotion, he squished happily around with streaks of
semen and Nivea running down between legs whilst cleaning up. The term
cleaning up was actually a little optimistic since housework was never his
best subject, all he really did was to take one horrified look at the
bedding and rapidly cover it up, before losing the abused carrot in the
kitchen waste bin.

Thus, cleaned up it was time face the more important realities. The main
concern was that the precious bottle of Nivea was now empty, something sure
to be noticed. That in turn generated a really big problem. If he were to
quickly drive into town to replace it before anybody came back home, should
he continue to wear the soggy, drooping, smelly briefs? Well of course, the
answer had to be an unequivocable yes, being something he had enjoyed doing
since discovering the art of masturbation when he much younger. Whatever,
he was now almost erect again simply because of the thought of driving in
and walking to the chemist in the briefs, but now there were other
questions to be answered. Would everything inside his jeans be slipping and
sliding around in the revolting lubricant? Would the sodden briefs stay up
or be drooping down the legs of his jeans? Would there be any more leakage
from his bottom? Was there a danger that he could cum again whilst walking
with everything slithering about and rubbing on his cock? Could there ever
be anything more disgusting? Hopefully the answer to all was a resounding,
yes!

The weight and feel of the wet slimy briefs as he walked slowly from the
carpark towards the high street was a wonderful new experience, even
beating walking around school that very first time after cumming during a
history lesson. Whilst these new sensations might have been euphoric, the
downside was that his jeans had begun to show darker damp patches and that
he was having real difficulty in hiding the impressive bulge of his fly.

Ostensibly he stopped to closely examine various shop windows en-route to
the chemist, when in reality it gave the opportunity to keep checking that
matters were not getting too obvious. The shopping for Nivea eventually
completed, he found himself on the return journey to the carpark and
stopped yet again, this time though for a genuine look in the window of a
tool shop. Innocently standing there gazing in lust at a giant socket set
in the window, he was utterly shocked when what felt like a hand was drawn
across his bottom, pausing as it passed between his buttocks.

"Wot the fuck!" he immediately swung round.

"Wish we could, don't you?" Adam grinned at him. "Thought it was you, I saw
you when I come out of the cycle shop."

"Oh my god!" Andy gulped. His heart fluttered. Adam had been the epicentre
of his vivid fantasy of less than an hour before.

"You alright?" asked Adam unaware of the intense feelings that Andy had
developed for him.

"Yeah," he spoke slowly, his heart still fluttering, "I am.. I think."

"I thought of you in bed last night." Adam nudged him and winked.

"And I, I, I was thinking of you... only an hour ago!" blurted Andy
flushing.

"Have you cum in yer pants then, yer walking like it!" Adam continued
blithely having not entirely taken Andy's admission on board. "If we can
find somewhere, I'll cum in mine, I needs another wank and you got me
feeling all randy already!"

"I've done just about everything in 'em," gushed Andy somewhat
naively. "I've just cum in 'em, while thinking about you!"

"Honest? Me? Oh shit!" Adam paused for a second and swallowed. Having
thought Andy was a little infatuated with him, he had finally realised it
could be more than infatuation. "Oh shit! So that's wot you meant saying
you was thinking of me an hour ago then... sorry, I only just got wot
it... so oh.. so it's me innit?"

"It`s the fucking truth, yeah it's you innit? I thinks about you a lot."
Andy took a deep breath, it was neither intended nor supposed to be like
this in admitting his true feelings to Adam, but he'd harboured his desires
for what felt like far too long already.

"Well I really likes you... but... uumm.. wot d'you think we oughta
do.. uumm.. oh fuck!" Adam was lost, a cold shiver ran up his spine. The
truth was almost out, it was something he hadn't wanted to really admit to
himself, that he also thought of Andy a lot but tried not to concede to his
emotions. "Oh fuck! I.. I.. don't get it.. wot, oh Andy.."

"Have you had a wank this morning?" it seemed a strange question in the
middle of such an emotional conversation.

"Yeah, course. Well it's Saturday morning innit?" Adam looked puzzled,
although it was a welcome excuse to skirt round the current emotional
situation. "Wot, why?"

"Could you cum again?"

"Bloody right I can!" a smile crossed Adam's face. "Why?"

"Would you?" it was the way Andy looked at him, enquiring, neither could
nor wanted to break the eye contact.

"I `spose... when, where?" mumbled Adam feeling very peculiar, but unsure
why.

"Inside me? Now? Please?" Andy blinked, his voice was croaky. "I got the
car here."

"Oh wot! Bloody hell... you silly fucker.. yeah, uumm.. I `spose.. uumm..."
now it was Adam that began to blink. "Andy, I don't know wot's going on in
me head, except I knows yer very special! Oh fuck, sorry didn't mean
to... uumm..."

"Fuck!" Andy couldn't help the tears, he rubbed his eyes. "Oh fuck, I'm
special?"

"Yeah, you bloody is." Adam sniffed, he paused to take a deep breath. "We
can't tell Mart about this can we? Promise. Wouldn't be fair, I'm his best
mate. Oh hell, Andy wot is it that's happening.. oh fuck!"

"Course we won't, I don't wanna hurt him either." he rubbed his eyes again,
the vocabulary was limited but not his feelings. "So d'you feel all
confused like I do?"

"I honestly ain't sure wot I feel." Adam moved closer and reached for his
hand. "We're a bit of a mess ain't we? I just dunno wot's just come over
me. Fuck!"

"Well I hope I can cum over you!" Andy managed a weak smile, he squeezed
the fingers. "Yer right though, we're a bloody mess ain't we?"

"Yeah, but I feel happy. It's not just you is it?" now there were tears in
Adam's eyes. "I've been trying to tell meself that.. since we met.. oh
fuck, Andy I don't know wot's happening to me. Help me."

"Don't know if I can, we'll have to help each other."

Adam nodded although the reason why he had become tearful when he was
theoretically happy totally eluded him.

"Right come on then, we'd better not be seen holding hands!" Andy tried to
sound in charge and released the hand. "Listen, I don't wanna put you off,
but if you really wants to do something.. well.. uumm me pants is in a bit
of a mess.. d'you mind?"

"No." Adam rubbed his eyes again then laughed. "I know exactly wot you've
been doing `cause I can smell that hand cream stuff, you've had that
fucking carrot up yer bum again ain't you?"

"Yeah, you gotta good memory." Andy blushed. "But, the carrot wasn't
enough, that's why I wants you up there now filling me with spunk!"





Martin had been working very hard even though it had taken all his will
power to resist looking at the various magazines whilst he sorted the
numerous boxes of chocolates and cigarettes. Now with the end of the task
in sight he knew once he'd methodically stacked the stock by type he could
really turn his attention to the corner of the stockroom where the special
magazines were laid out on the boxes awaiting him. Allowing himself to put
his hand down his jeans and adjust his cock, he glanced at his watch
thinking that in maybe less than ten minutes he could be over in the corner
with the magazines.

In the shop, between customers Mr Maxwell had been keeping an eye on
progress either by popping in the storeroom or peering through the very
convenient crack by the door frame. Whilst disappointed that Martin had not
immediately headed for the magazines, he was though very impressed with his
work ethic. As the morning wore on and the initial flow of customers began
to tail off, Mr Maxwell hoped to divert Martin towards the more pleasurable
aspects his surroundings.

By taking in a bottle of lemonade and a chocolate bar from the shop, whilst
formulating with some encouraging words regarding progress, Mr Maxwell was
planning on making the suggestion that Martin should take a break. The
timing couldn't have been better since it was only a couple of minutes
after Martin had himself been looking forward to giving in to
temptation. Hopefully a combination of the refreshments and further subtle
innuendo as to reading material would be well received, thus nurturing the
seeds of temptation and teenage lust leading to matters of the
flesh. Putting the `Back in ten minutes' sign on the shop door should give
him sufficient time to set it up.

Then with Martin settled, Mr Maxwell planned to return to the shop and move
to the far end of the counter where a short passageway led off to a
staircase and the floor above. The corner where the wall turned right to go
down the passageway was in fact the outer wall of the stockroom and formed
the corresponding internal corner where the boxes and the special order
magazines lay.

It hadn't taken more than a couple of minutes when Mr Maxwell first met
Martin to conclude that with thoughts of pornography on offer Martin was
incapable of leaving himself alone. It had in fact been just the same with
Martin's two predecessors, both of whom had agreed to tidy the stockroom
for five pounds apiece and unwittingly fallen into the voyeuristic
trap. The first time it had happened was almost a year ago and had been
very much an ad hoc affair, but so convinced it had to be repeated after
the success of the boy who suddenly began masturbating, Mr Maxwell had
decided to take matters further. The obvious option was to use his very
competent DIY skills to their full and thus enable him to take advantage of
whatever sexual act the next boy decided to do when left alone with hard
pornography.

Since the wall between the shop and the storeroom was just a studwork
partition, it had been very easy for Mr Maxwell to remove a small section
of the outer skin in the passage way well out of sight of the shop
area. That meant on the other side of the single thickness of plasterboard
were the carefully positioned boxes and the special magazines, where the
subject would stand and hopefully enjoin in self-abuse.

The big question was how to disguise the method of secretly watching
stockroom activity that wouldn't be obvious, in fact the answer proved very
simple. In addition to the free standing shelving racks there were already
some odd shelves affixed to the walls, so to position a couple more about
three feet off the ground with the boxes sited beneath them was easy. Then
immediately underneath the bottom shelf, so it couldn't possibly be seen
from above, the easy part was to bore a modest viewing hole or two through
the plasterboard. A little judicious touching up with a paintbrush to fully
disguise the area around the holes would complete the work.

With pornography available in the corner and the sap having risen to the
point of uncontrollable leakage in his underpants, Martin was fast
approaching giving in to temptation as the uniquely titled, special
magazines beckoned. The more he thought about finishing the work of sorting
stock, the more he desperately wanted to release the mounting pressure in
his jeans by getting his aching cock out and masturbating.

The arrival of the chocolate and lemonade was for Martin, just as Mr
Maxwell had hoped the tipping point and effectively signalled the end of
his mornings work.

"Here, I've brought you some refreshment, you should stop and have a little
rest."

Mr Maxwell glanced around, it seemed that most of the work had been carried
out leaving absolutely no doubt that Martin had really earned his money
that morning.

"Does it look alright?" asked Martin expectantly.

"Quite fantastic, you've done it better than I could." he
smiled. "Excellent."

"I've just got this to do, then all the cigarettes is done."

Martin straightened up and lifted the last of the cigarette cartons onto a
high shelf inadvertently lifting the pale blue shirt from his jeans to yet
again expose the top of his white underpants, including part of the
infamous striped waistband. Immediately realising what had happened he
flushed and began frantically pushing the shirt back inside to cover what
he considered to be one the ultimate embarrassments of being an adolescent.

"Martin, it's only your pants, calm down! You ought to know by now that you
shouldn't be embarrassed in front of me," it seemed an opportune time to
bring the subject around to one his prime interests, "don't be silly, we've
all worn Y-fronts."

"But.." blushing Martin swallowed, knowing his reaction had been a little
excessive, however without thinking he continued, "but, but they're so
big.. I hate them!"

"I guess it's what your mum buys you then?" the conversation had to be kept
alive.

"Yeah, she don't see nothing wrong with 'em does she?"

"Oh. Well you obviously do!"

Boys in underwear interested Martin as much as Mr Maxwell, although he
didn't know it. Should Martin be very brave and maybe continue to talk
about it since in his mind sex was irrevocably connected with underwear
anyway, that was of course assuming Mr Maxwell was interested!

With sex filling the air and the underwear subject irresistible, Martin
took a leap into the unknown, he replied without looking up. "See, I want
some of them small coloured ones, I've seen 'em in big shops, but she won't
buy me none and I don't know how to ask her without.. without.."

"Without getting really embarrassed, because boys just don't buy their own
pants do they?" Mr Maxwell sounded so incredibly reassuring and extremely
interested in Martin's adolescent problems. "But, Martin now be honest, I
mean you couldn't really tell her why you wanted them could you?"

"No.. no.. " he shook his head. "She don't.. well she wouldn't understand."

"Would you tell me?" he smiled expectantly. "That'll be good practice for
when you do get round to telling your mum won't it?"

It was the moment of truth, even if it was a dreadfully lame suggestion
posed in a dreadfully lame manner and they both knew it, but would Martin
have sufficient trust in him to confide such intimate thoughts and if he
did, then what were the chances of moving onto sexual matters?

Martin paused and looked around for fear of being overheard. He thought
after what he admitted about his underpants so far, what had he to loose by
continuing and besides Mr Maxwell seemed so understanding of his problem.

"Thing is, well it would be like wearing swimming trunks, they's all tight
and sexy and, and well I ain't seen nobody else wearing 'em at school so,
so.."

"You mean you'd go round with a big hard on all the time?" Mr Maxwell
grinned, it wasn't meant as a put-down of a grin, much more of an
encouragement and appreciation of the way Martin felt.

Martin blushed yet again and nodded, how could Mr Maxwell know all these
things?

"In fact, from what I can see I think these magazines have done something
for you already, if you don't mind be saying so it looks like you're a very
lucky boy to have been blessed with a pretty big cock, am I right?"

"Oh no! Can you see it? Is it that big?"

Flattered, surprised, red, Martin gulped and confirmed he was indeed very
erect. It seemed his new friend Mr Maxwell didn't miss very much, he looked
down to the bulge in his jeans and prayed the wet spot he knew was in his
briefs wouldn't show.

"It's because of all the magazines in here so there's no need to worry
about that, because I get erections looking at them as well." Mr Maxwell
was well aware that the object was not to embarrass Martin, since that
would undoubtedly conclude any possibility of sexual activity. "So, if you
had some new coloured pants, d'you think all your classmates would be
jealous when they saw you changing for games?"

"Yeah, course." said Martin excitedly, the fact he had an erection that Mr
Maxwell thought was large only added to his growing lack of inhibitions.

"But, just suppose you had that big hard on when you unveiled your new
pants?"

"Oh!" Martin giggled, he was certainly relaxing. "Well there's always a few
that gets a hard on when we changes, so I don't `spose it would really
matter."

"D'you look at some of the boys when they're changing then?" it sounded
innocuous enough and was designed to put more trust between them. "I used
to do it all the time when I was at school."

"Well who don't!" Martin flushed, it wasn't an admission he'd make to just
anybody and just to confirm his trust he added. "I've checked, they all
wears white pants."

"That's a very honest answer, not everybody would say that." he smiled. "So
here's a something in return, I've got some of those little briefs on right
now! And, d'you know this sounds silly, but I can't even remember what
colour they are!"

"Wot! Really? Them ones I want?" he couldn't stop himself asking. "So,
you... hard?"

Painfully erect, surrounded by pornography and immersed in a sexually
orientated conversation with somebody who he liked, Martin could think of
little else except sex and underpants. Appearing quite unabashed in his
quest for sexual gratification he looked towards Mr Maxwell's trousers, the
bulge mainly hidden by the shirt.

"Quite possibly!" Mr Maxwell grinned, hoping his answer sounded like a
joke, it wasn't and they both knew it. "Why, you don't want me to check do
you?"

Martin just stood there, the hole he'd dug for himself was getting ever
deeper and there was no way back up. Finally, his briefs wet and mouth dry,
he was barely able to mouth the words. "You would... wot... they ain't
white... you would... will you?"

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Chap 42 to follow