Date: Sat, 14 Dec 2002 23:49:48 +0000
From: Jo Vincent <joad130@hotmail.com>
Subject: Aladdin's Awakening:  Part 20

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.  If you have trouble with the
English educational system let me know.  A dramatis personae will follow
after a few installments - there are a lot of characters!

			    ALADDIN'S AWAKENING

				    By

				   Joel

				Chapter 11

			     November 1st 1943

I woke up with a start wondering where I was.  Of course, at home, in my
own bed.  No Matt, or Tony, or Roo.  I looked at my watch, oh, nearly
seven.  I supposed I'd better get up and get ready for school.  I washed
and dressed and was downstairs by seven fifteen all togged out in my new
trousers.  They did feel a bit funny flapping round my legs.  Ma had a
great grin on her face when I appeared downstairs.

     "Oh, ho, my little boy is grown up now."

     I made a face and sat down at the table.  On the plate in front of me
was a new pair of cycle clips.

     "Your father said you would need those and he said don't get your
turn-ups caught in the chain!  He couldn't wait as he had to get things
organised this morning before the others got to the lab."

     Oh, gosh, I'd forgotten I would need them.  Good old Pa!  I scoffed
breakfast then practised so Ma could hear.  She thought it sounded OK.
Then off to school.

     I timed it pretty well, the bell had just gone as I left my bike in
the sheds and rushed to line up.  A few raucous shouts met my arrival and I
made sure I got in line with Nobbo who was also wearing his new bags.  We
stuck together and after assembly we had to go back to the cloakroom as
Nobbo had left a book in his locker.  This meant we were among the last to
arrive at the form room.

     The place was in a bit of a turmoil.  Huggy hadn't appeared and as we
walked in we were greeted by the sight of a small crowd standing round a
struggling figure bent back over a desk.  It was Benno being held down by
Tim Parker and Dave Morgan while Jim Masters and Ned Carter were just
pulling his trousers and pants down his legs.  No notice was taken of us as
all eyes were on Benno's display.

     "Come on lads!  Have a look at Benno's hairy knob!  He's got to wear
long trousers now so it doesn't hang out down his leg!"  Jim's voice sang
out above the merry noise.

     "I bet he'd be proud if it really did!" someone else said in a loud
voice.

     "But it's shrunk a bit in the cold today!" was Jim's retort to a
general guffaw.

     There was renewed laughter as Benno's shirt was pulled up to cover his
head and as he wriggled about even more helplessly they let go of him.
Unluckily, having dealt with Benno one of them turned and spotted me and
Nobbo at the door.

     "Hey, there's those other two, let's have 'em as well!"  Saying this,
Johnny Reed advanced on us followed closely by Peter Fry.  A real pair of
cowards, we turned and skipped into the corridor only to be met by Roo and
Cleggy.  Thank God it was Roo, he must have taken one quick glance at what
was happening in the room.

     "Watch it, chaps, here comes Huggy!" he called out in a hoarse
whisper.
  We went back to the door to see Benno retrieving his pants and trousers
from round his ankles and hastily making himself presentable while the rest
rushed to their places.  As we went in there were subdued sniggers and a
few whispers about our fate.  Soon Huggy loomed at the door.

     "Not settled yet?  I have a few days respite from the rabble and
return to a riotous mob!"  I could almost feel his glare on my back as I
scuttled into my seat next to Matt. "I hope that any rites and ceremonies
have now been concluded and that we are no longer in a state of chaos."

     He looked around, "Benjamin, you look flustered, come here and make
some sense out of these notices to be taken home by everyone."

     He gestured at a pile of envelopes he had put on his desk.  His gaze
moved on, he pointed, "Young Anthony, please to distribute these text
books."  Nobbo stood and shuffled to the front.

     My turn now.  "Jacko, your task is to collect the homework books from
your compatriots and do not take no for an answer!"

     I picked out mine first and took up Matt's before going round the
class as Huggy proceeded to call the register.  As I circulated a few hands
out of Huggy's sight pulled at my legs but I kept my composure and my
trousers.  I noted that Vince was still absent.

     At break Nobbo and I were surrounded by the mob as soon as Huggy left
the room.  Our time has come I thought as both of us were seized and a
start was made at forcible unbuttoning.  A hand was already exploring the
waistband of my pants when a sharp voice was heard.

     "Hey, you lot, let them alone, you've already had a go at me!"  It was
Benno to the rescue.  Not quite the same as being rescued by a dog but good
enough.  He continued hurriedly, "If you don't give us some support we'll
be in grave danger from the thugs in 4S 'cos Cleggy's just heard they're on
the look-out."

     Nobbo and I were instantly released amidst a general outburst of
"We've got to stick together" and "We'll get that lot instead!"

     I did a quick button-up and then a general surge swept us into and
along the corridor.  Sure enough, round the corner stood a collection of 4S
headed, of course, by the horrid Foster twin.  I didn't see quite what
happened but Peter Fry went up to him and the next thing Bernie Foster was
on the floor clutching his nuts.  There was a general scattering of the 4S
forces and we proceeded downstairs onto the playground.

     "That was quick," Nobbo exclaimed, "Thanks a lot, guys!"  He turned to
Peter, "What did you do, you didn't whack him one, did you?"

     There was a throaty laugh from Pete, "No, I just gripped his goolies
and asked him not to wait on our corridor."

     "Most effective," said Tony, "You're quite a formidable weapon!"

     "No, that's not right!" chipped in Dave Morgan, "You should say he's
got a formidable weapon!  Haven't you, Pete?"  He slapped Pete on the
shoulder, "You're renowned for it, eh?"

     "Shut up, you clot!" retorted Pete, "Or I'll give you a grip as well!"
He lunged at Dave who hooted with laughter and scampered away.

     By this time most people had also drifted away leaving the newly
attired three with Matt, Roo, Tony and Danny Ross.  The one bit of news
purveyed to us by Danny Ross was that Vince was likely to be away some
time.  Apparently his cough was serious and he was going to hospital for
tests.  We were a bit perplexed about this and wondered what it meant.  Our
little discussion was broken up by Cleggy who came up laughing his head
off.

     "Hey, what about this, that lot in 4S were so annoyed with Bernie
Foster for making them look stupid they've taken him round the back of the
bike sheds and 'cos he was moaning about the pain in his goolies they've
got his trousers off to have a look!  He's moaning more now 'cos one of
them dripped fountain pen ink on his bollocks so they're all blue now!"

     With that he set off at speed to spread the news and one or two he
spoke to made their way off the playground presumably to check on the sight
of Bernie's blue balls.  I thought it politic not to venture in that
direction in case they might get a desire to try it on me.  Benno and Nobbo
were obviously in the same mind and only Roo strolled off.  He was soon
back, grinning all over his mug.

     "You should see what they've done now!  They had him down flat and
that big bugger Gerry Thomas has smeared ink all over his prick as well and
Bernie's swearing and cursing what he'll do when he gets up."

     At that moment the bell went and we sauntered in an orderly manner
into lines until the prefects signalled us in.  There was no sign of Bernie
in the 4S line.  I did see him at lunch time sitting with a couple of the
Fifth Years and he had a face like thunder so I suppose he was enlisting
their aid in some retaliation although both were grinning broadly.

     After finishing the greasy stew and stodgy pud Matt and I mooched off
into our favourite corner of the playground.  He nudged my arm.

     "Hey, Jacko, I missed you last night."

     "Me too, and I missed the dog as well."

     His face lit up, "Yeah, so did I.  I wonder if he's OK."

     "I expect so.  What did Tony's dad say to your mum?  Did he say we
could go again?"

     "Yeah, he did.  I'd like to, wouldn't you?"

     I nodded agreement and listened while he rattled on about something or
other.  I'm afraid my thoughts were still on the events of the previous
week and the hope that my trousers would remain on until I got home.


     Mrs Tring was very pleased when I played through the pieces that
evening.  She said I could go on immediately to learn the Grade 6 pieces
and not to worry about the exam because we could polish the others up in
the final fortnight.  I must say I'm really getting to enjoy playing now.
Perhaps not quite as much as playing with something else I thought to
myself in bed that night.
                                *
     Tuesday was a quiet day.  We three were no longer news but we tended
to keep together.  I hadn't really taken to Benno before.  He was quite
dark with a sharp face and didn't seem to have any particular best friend
in the class.  Even Johnny Reed, whom he sat next to, was more friendly
with John Wills 'cos they were in the Cadet Force together.  He was pretty
bright especially in science and I had to work hard to make sure I kept up
with him.  Anyway, he joined Nobbo and me as we went down at break time.

     Matt had gone to look at the notice board worried in case his name was
there for foot rot inspection, or for a check on his gas mask, or whatever.
Benno was unusually friendly, wanting to know what we'd done at half-term.
He said he'd been at home keeping his two younger brothers in order while
his mum was at work so hadn't enjoyed it much.  Both he and Nobbo were very
envious of my tales about being at Ulvescott Manor with Matt and I could
see that Nobbo was dying to ask all sorts of questions which would have to
wait.

     Nobbo said he, Billy and Andy had gone on a couple of long bike rides
and on one of them hadn't been far from Ulvescott.  They were suitably
impressed with my story about Bran and the graveyard - I didn't say about
the howling when I was about to be forcibly wanked - but did say one of the
Land Girls said he was like the Hound of the Baskervilles.

     "Good book, that," opined Benno, "I thought it was pretty scary,
especially about the bog."

     "What's scary about a bog?" asked Nobbo, "Was there a ghost in it?"

     I cottoned on quickly, poor old Nobbo had the wrong sort of bog!  "No,
you clot, not that sort of bog, this one was a quagmire...."

     Benno laughed, "It was called the Great Grimpen Mire and people got
stuck in it and sucked down - and the dog...."  He stopped a moment then
continued, "....Look, you ought to read it.  You have, haven't you Jacko?"

     I nodded, "I started it on Sunday night and I've nearly finished it."

     Benno turned back to Nobbo, "Tell you what, I'll lend you my copy."

     "Oh yes, please."

     "I'll come round this evening then, 'bout seven, I've got to go and
see my aunt and she lives near you."

     I remembered, Benno lived just outside Kerslake and cycled everywhere
on a rather snazzy bike.  Benno didn't seem too unfriendly any more.


     After school I rushed off quickly, for two reasons.  One, just in case
anyone remembered I hadn't received the Benno treatment and, two, it was
Mike's night for a lesson from Pa.  I hadn't been in long and was just
tucking into a jam sandwich I'd hastily prepared when I heard him riding up
the gravel at the side of the house.  I went to the back door and opened it
before he got there.

     "Hi, Jacko!  You've got jam on your nose!"

     I rubbed the offending spot and licked my finger.  "Do you want a
sandwich?"

     "Wouldn't mind, and I'd like a cup of tea as well if you've made one."

     No sooner said than done and by the time he was sitting at the kitchen
table the cup was there and I was cutting a couple of wedges of bread.  He
waited until I'd finished preparing the sandwich.

     "Did you have a good week?"

     "Not half," I replied enthusiastically, "It was terrific!"

     I launched into the tale of the week, still keeping to the straight
and narrow though I did say they had me tied down, but didn't say what Matt
had in his hand when Bran howled.  He listened with great interest and said
at the end it sounded great fun.  Then he said he had some things to show
me.

     He had spent the week doing lots of drawings, some of them sketches
from the windows of their house but mainly ones he had done on a couple of
excursions out with his sister to Alvescott.  I recognised a couple of
views from the hill where Pa had had his chat with me.

     "I like those," I said after looking at them, "I know where that is,
it's the hill at Alvescott.  I was up there with my dad not long ago."

     He riffled through the folder and I caught a glimpse of a drawing of
somebody.

     "What's that one?" I asked, "You've just flicked over it."

     He draw the drawing half out, "It's one I did of me, in the mirror."

     "Oh, is it one that Maureen said about?"

     He grinned, "Yep, have a look as long as you don't tell her you've
seen it."

     I could see why.  It was a sketch of himself in the nude, turned a bit
sideways so nothing showed, just a hint of hair.  And it was very good.  He
had captured in a few lines exactly how he looked.  How did I know?  A
memory of him in the changing room flashed through my mind.  Oh gosh, I
wonder if he would let me have the drawing?  No, he obviously wouldn't as
he pushed it back among the others.  But he had let me see it.

     "You draw very well," I said admiringly, "How did you do that one?
Have you done any others like that?"

     "Oh yes, I've done a few but I haven't kept them."  He grinned, "I
just stand some way away from the mirror and then draw what I see.  Of
course, nosy Maureen hammered on the door while I was dressing after doing
some and when I let her in she wanted to know what I'd been doing.  I
wasn't quick enough to put my sketch pad away so she saw that one."

     He grinned even more, "It's a good job she didn't see the others, they
were..."  He paused a moment, "....um, well, there was a bit more detail!"
He raised his eyebrows and I nodded back knowingly, also grinning.  "I hate
to think what dear Maureen would have said if she'd turned the page!
Anyway, I tore the other three up after she went off and, anyway, I think
this one is the best."

     "It is good and those others are as well."

     "Which one would you like?"

     I was about to say the one of him but I thought I'd better chose one
of the hill.  At least I could show that one to Pa and Ma without any
awkwardness.

     "Could I have that one, please?" I asked, pointing to the one showing
exactly the bit of the hill where Pa and I had stood.

     "Of course you can, I can always do more."  He passed over the sheet
and I put it on the table in front of me as he parcelled up his other
sketches and put them in his bag.  "You should get Maureen to do something
for you, she's good too."

     At that moment we heard Ma and Pa arriving back home from the labs,
they were early.  When they came in Mike was immediately whisked off to the
study and I was pointed in the direction of the front room to do some more
practice.

     At supper time Pa had a look at Mike's sketch and pronounced it very
good.  Ma said she thought my piano playing was also improving even if I
did eat much too quickly.  Pa said he didn't understand the connection
between these two quite disparate facts unless it meant I was extending
both my aesthetic spirit as well as my corporeal body.  What on earth do
grown-ups mean?  All I know is that one part of my corporeal body is
extending quite quickly.  My ruler tonight showed it was four and
seven-eighths with the skin back.  My oh my, it's growing fast, that's over
half an inch since September when I measured it first!

     I've also grown another half an inch as well and when I looked at
myself in the wardrobe mirror I thought my arms were a bit more muscly.
Must be all that exercise I had lugging wood around last week.  I expect
that's how Hans got his muscles, plenty of exercise.  Later in bed I
thought of him and Mike as I tried out my arm muscles to very good effect.

                                *

     Our French circle after school on Wednesday was good.  Roo and Tony
came all dressed up in their uniforms as they were being tested by Rabbity
on their presentation of the hike report.  Ma said she was astounded at
Matt's progress and the other two looked a bit green when he came out with
a complicated sentence which Ma said was perfect.

     Matt stayed to tea and as Pa had said at breakfast he wanted a rest he
and Ma went off to the pictures leaving Matt and me to look after
ourselves.  As soon as they'd gone I told Matt about my lengthening tool
and we stripped off and measured each other.  I've got some way to go
before I catch up with him as I've now checked myself on his length and its
just over six inches and much fatter round than mine.

     I sang him the little ditty about 'My friend Billy' and he said he
remembered it too and we had a good laugh about it.  After that, though, I
did beat him both times on the amount of spunk I shot!  In between we
finished off all our homework so had a most satisfactory evening!

                                *
     At breakfast next morning Ma said the letter I had brought home was
about my choice of subjects for School Cert.  The Head Beak had sent a list
for Ma and Pa to agree to and I was to be entered for everything.  She said
she was pleased 'cause that meant I was getting on OK as she had heard one
or two of the others weren't being entered for some subjects.  I wonder who
they are?

     Then I thought I'd better ask Ma about something I'd been thinking
about since coming back from Ulvescott.  I'd remembered Tim Parker said his
brother had taken Music as an extra subject at School Cert and he wanted to
do the same.  I wondered if I could take an extra subject as well.

     "Ma, do you think I could take German as an extra language at School
Cert next year?" I asked while helping myself to a third piece of toast.

     Ma looked even more pleased. "I expect so," she said brightly, "but
you'll need to do quite a bit towards getting a good standard on your
written work."

     I nodded as I chewed away and she continued, "I suppose you found you
knew more than you expected last week, didn't you?"

     With mouth full I could only nod again.  Politely, I waited until I
had emptied my mouth. "Yes, Hans said I was very good on easy constructions
but I needed to work on that and learn more vocabulary."

     "Well, I don't mind helping you but I think you ought to do most of
the work with someone else.  I'll talk to Henry Vansittart about it on
Saturday because we're going round there for supper."  I suppose she saw my
look of surprise, then concern.  "It's OK, I'll leave food for you and if
you like you can ask Matthew round as well.  And, as we'll be late he could
stay the night if he wants."

     Ho, Ho, Ho, Henry Vansittart!  I knew it was H but didn't know his
full name!  Must tell Tony as I don't think he knows. And, Ho, Ho, Ho,
again!  Matt could come and stay the night.  Gosh that would be good, I'll
have to ask him first thing in the morning!  I've really missed him the
last few nights.


     I also missed Vince that afternoon during games.  No massaging of my
balls, just a rather hefty Cleggy pushing and shoving.  He's odd, I didn't
see him in the showers afterwards and Nobbo said he'd seen him rushing off
to change as soon as he got off the field.  Needless to say this was the
time when Nobbo and I had our rites and ceremonies played out on us.

     We had come off the field together and stopped while Nobbo talked to
someone or other about band practice for the Boys' Brigade so we were in
the showers later than most.  We were sharing a shower when four of the
thugs from 4S suddenly appeared with a fire bucket and slung cold water
over the pair of us.

     They disappeared before we could remonstrate and before anyone else
saw what happened.  Even a further liberal amount of hot water didn't stop
my teeth chattering and the sudden cold had disastrous effects on the
length of my tool.

     "The bastards!" was Nobbo's response as they departed. "I know who
they are and I'll get Billy to deal with them!"

     I wondered if having a big brother wasn't such a bad idea especially
in controlling the activities of the rougher elements.  Even so, they must
have known Nobbo's big brother and it didn't stop them throwing the water.

     "Don't worry, Nobbo, they've had their fun and it was only water not
like that ink on Foster."

     That was interesting 'cause as I said that I realised that Bernie
Foster had been absent from games that afternoon so I wondered if he still
had a blue cock.  As we got out from the shower Roo came up bursting with
news.

     "Hey, Alan Foster's just told me his brother has washed his dick ever
so many times but it's still a bit blue so he got his mother to get him
excused games as he said he didn't feel well."

     He rushed off to spread his tidings while Nobbo and I got dried and
dressed.  He was ready first, said cheerio and went off.  I was just tying
up a shoelace when I realised someone was standing in front of me.  It was
Tim Parker.  I was a bit perturbed because he was one of the crew who had
been holding Benno over the desk on Monday.  I needn't have worried.

     "Have you practised much over the holiday?" he asked, "I'm fed up with
those Grade Five pieces now so I've learned all the Grade Six ones."

     "Yeah, I've started on them as well," I responded, then a thought
struck me. "Hey, if you wait for me I'll tell you about last week and all
the practice I did."

     "OK, if you've got time you could cycle home my way."

     I quickly got my things ready and followed him to the bike sheds.  We
cycled off and I told him about the marvellous piano at Tony's Aunt Mary's
and my progress.
  He suggested I went in when we reached his house and he would hear me
play.  We could hear his brother upstairs in his room practising his cello
as we went to their front room.

     They also had an upright Bechstein just like Mrs Tring and Tim said I
could play through first.  He listened carefully as I went through the
first piece and then gave me a terrific lesson on what I should be doing.
There's no doubt about it, he's very good.  Even Mrs Tring doesn't go into
so much detail.

     I played through the other pieces and he made comments on each.  As I
played the third piece through again I heard the door open and his brother
came in and stood by the piano.

     "I wondered who it was playing," he said as I finished the piece, "It
didn't sound as heavy-handed as Timbo here.  In fact, I think it sounded
quite good."

     I was rather covered in confusion, I didn't really know Tim's brother
John.  He was in the second year sixth and most of them were rather remote
figures to us in the fourth year.

     He continued, "Tim told me you played and you were also taking Grade
Five this year.  You'll pass quite well if you continue like that."

     "Thanks, I didn't know if I would be good enough.  Mrs Tring says she
has every confidence in me but I didn't do too well at Grade Four.  I don't
think I practised enough."

     "You're OK, but I must go, I'm doing Grade Eight 'cello as well as
piano so I've got to practice even harder.  Anyway, did you all
congratulate the birthday boy today!"  I must have looked rather startled.
"Golly, he must have kept it a secret, I thought everyone would have known
and dealt with him appropriately.  Well he's fifteen now - ain't you
laddie!"

     He gave his brother a thump on the shoulder as he said it and before
Tim could reply turned on his heel and rushed to the door.  As he went out
he turned and called out Keep up the good work' and scurried off back
upstairs.

     I turned on the stool to face Tim who shrugged his shoulders, "I hoped
no one would remember and lucky for me they didn't 'cos last year I got
bumped fourteen times when I got to school and then bumped again after
school."  He grinned, "It'll be too late tomorrow and we mustn't forget
it's Danny Ross's birthday next week, on the tenth."

     "That's unkind," I said, also grinning, "Then he'll get bumped."  I
stood up and remembered something, "Hey, I thought you and some of the
others were going to have a party!"

     He nodded, "Shouldn't tell you really but it's on Friday week, the
nineteenth, and Mrs Ross has arranged to have the Church Hall near them.
We're going to invite all the class and the ones whose birthdays are up to
the end of January are going to join in and can invite two others each."

     I must have looked pleased, the thought of another feast like the one
Ma arranged was something to look forward to.

     "Gosh, that sounds good.  I enjoyed my party with Matt and Nobbo when
you all came so another one sounds smashing!"

     "Yeah, we all did and your mother says she'll help.  Anyway, do you
want to come up and see my room?"

     I nodded and picked up my satchel and followed him upstairs.  The
sound of the cello increased although John had the door of his room firmly
shut.

     As we went in he turned and nodded at the wall, "You did well just now
to get praise from John.  He's ever so good and if he thinks you'll pass
I'm sure you will.  He practises for hours."

     His room was smaller than mine but had shelves of books.  He explained
they were mostly his father's and the ones I could see seemed to be mainly
politics and history.  He said they didn't interest him but his father had
read the lot and was a socialist.  My knowledge of politics was minimal so
this meant little to me so I had a look at some other books prominently
displayed.  These were numerous vocal scores of oratorios and such like.

     "What are all these?" I asked, "Are these your father's as well?"

     Tim nodded, "Yes, he sang in the cathedral choir before he had to join
up, he was what they call a lay vicar, and mum sings in the Kerslake Choral
Society.  He's good and won lots of prizes when he was younger in Wales,
there's a whole lot of medals and cups downstairs.  That's how he got the
job here in the choir and we moved to here about ten years ago.  He's very
pleased we both want to do music."

     "I like music but I don't think I want to do it for a living.  I
hadn't really thought about it.  I suppose I'll be an engineer like my
dad."

     He nodded, "John's got to join up before he can go to music college.
He's eighteen at Christmas and they've said he has to report as soon as he
leaves school.  We'll all have to wait until this war ends I suppose.  Dad
says its all the fault of the capitalists and money grabbers but I can't
say I understand it.  Anyway, do you like being fourteen and wearing long
trousers now?"

     "I don't mind being fourteen but I'm not sure about the trousers.  I
haven't really got used to them yet."  I looked up and grinned at him, "Do
you like being fifteen?"

     "Haven't noticed any difference, it's only my first day!"  He paused a
moment then continued, "John says all he got when he was fifteen was a crop
of pimples so he'll watch with interest for mine!"

     "Matt's got spots, he spent ages in front of the mirror last week
squeezing them on his chin and looking to see if there were any new ones."

     He laughed, "Just like John, he's got them all over his neck as well.
Have you got any?"

     My skin was so far unblemished and smooth although I had noted a small
spot at the side of my cheek when I'd had a surreptitious look while Matt
was in the bedroom after one of his inspections.

     "Only here," I said pointing at the offending place.  Tim came up
close and peered at it.

     "Oh yes, very small but I've got these!"  He jutted his chin forward
and I could see a row of dark red pustules in the crease of his jaw.

     "Matt's dad said it's all part of growing up and I noticed all the
boys in the Fifth and Sixth had got spots when they were in the showers
after that last game."

     He nodded vigorously, "Yeah, I saw them all too and that Andy Symes
has them all over his shoulders!"  He paused again, "Shall I tell you what
John says?"

     "What?"

     He grinned, "He says if you've got a lot of spots its because you do
it a lot!"

     I did a mental recap, Matt certainly does and so does Alun and both of
them have plenty of spots and Alun says Rhys has lots as well.  I suppose
it could be true, but then, I realised it might be the other way.  Because
you have lots of spots may be something to do with how you make stuff and
want to do it.  I tried this out on Tim.

     "Yes," I began, "Matt's got spots and my cousin Alun's got spots and
they do it a lot, and you say your brother does and he's got spots."

     He giggled at this, "Oh yes, I told you before he does quite often."

     I went on, "But it could be the other way, whatever makes you have
spots makes you want to do it.  Matt's got spots and what makes the spots
makes him want to..."  I finished rather lamely as this essay into
biological reasoning required more knowledge than I had.

     Tim looked pleased, "You could be right."  He leaned forward and
whispered in my ear, "I think I've got a spot coming now, want to see?"
With that he quickly undid his flies and extracted a very erect tool.  The
sound of John's cello was still coming strongly from the next room as we
peeled off our jackets and quickly dropped our trousers and pants.  I took
the initiative.

     "As it's your birthday I'll do it to you first.  Is it the first for
being fifteen?"

     "Oh gosh yes, it is," he murmured as he leaned back against me as I
stood just behind him.  I felt for his thick shaft and pulled down on his
foreskin.  His skin rolled back easily and as I jacked him off I watched
his knob get redder and shinier as I pulled down harder.

     As before he took quite a time to come and I knew he was going to have
a massive climax because he was really panting and grunting just before he
came.  Just as he was beginning to twitch and jerk I realised we hadn't put
anything on the floor.
  Not to worry, he had a handkerchief in his left hand and as he shot he
caught the spunk expertly in its folds.  I didn't have a chance to say
anything because although he was still panting with my effort he grabbed my
cock and gave me a terrific wank and as I shot he also caught my stuff in
the same way.  We stood still a moment as we got our breath back.

     "Gosh, thanks Jacko, I really wanted that!"  He rolled the hankie up
in a ball and dropped it on his bed.  It landed rather heavily.  He saw me
look at it.  "That's what John calls a Yankee."

     I was getting my pants and trousers safely on again.  "What d'you
mean?
  What's a Yankee?"

     He guffawed and whispered in an American accent, "A Yankee's a wank in
a hankie!"

     "That's a good one, I'll have to remember that."  I had just begun to
tell him my tale about the towel appearing at my bedside when I noted that
the cello practice had stopped and without warning the door opened and John
came in.  Tim had just finished buttoning his flies and I was picking up my
jacket.  John surveyed the room and I saw his eyes light on the balled
hankie on the bed.

     He grinned, "Been celebrating his birthday, eh?"  He advanced into the
room and put his arm round Tim. "He's quite a big boy now, isn't he."  Tim
wriggled free and made a face at his brother.  John grinned, gave a
thumbs-up sign and went out shutting the door behind him.

     Tim was looking at me, I suppose I'd appeared a bit guilty, almost
found with my pants down.  "Hey, don't worry, he came in once when Danny
Ross was here and I was actually in the middle of tossing him off.  Poor
old Danny had a real shock!
  At least we were respectable.  Go on, tell me more about the towel."

     I had just finished my tale and Tim had agreed it was a good idea when
the sounds of the cello started up again.  Tim gave a snort, "Hey, listen
to what he's playing!"

     The tune was unmistakable.  Yankee Doodle Dandy played con brio!  Tim
slapped me on the back, "He didn't miss much, did he?"  I had to agree.

     That night in bed I had Tim on my mind and wondered what his brother
was like and whether he really took as long as Tim to come.  Tim had also
noted my foreskin went right back just like his.  I tried it again.  It's
going back much more easily now, just a twinge towards the end.  Also, it
wasn't too long before I was coming again, no hankie this time, just my
trusty towel.
                                *
     When I'd got home after visiting Tim I'd told Ma about how he'd
listened to my playing and about his brother's judgement that I should pass
the exam without difficulty.  Ma smiled and then said if that was all OK
then perhaps some work on German might be in order so I had an hour's
conversation over supper with Pa chipping in at times before I escaped up
to my room to do my homework.

     No escape next morning because breakfast was conducted in French so by
the time I got to school I really felt I had to acclimatise myself to
English.  Pa said at breakfast that he was definitely going to take Sunday
off and was going for a long walk over Alvescott and if Matt and I wanted
to come then Matt had better stay both nights.  Needless to say I accepted
immediately on Matt's behalf and luckily when I told him what Pa had said
he agreed very readily.

     Roo's news when we got back to class from the afternoon break was that
Bernie Foster's cock was almost its normal colour because some of his class
had got him behind the bike sheds and had a good look and he'd seen it too.
This was the only cheerful news because the beaks had been very
heavy-handed that day with the weekend homework.  After supper I did a bit
then finished the Hound of the Baskervilles and decided that Bran wouldn't
have made a good killer dog, he was too nice.

     I found another Sherlock Holmes book, inscribed 'To Jim from Mary'.
I'll ask Pa who that was.  I read that for a while and must have been tired
because I fell asleep quickly without any arm exercises!

     Chapter 11 to be continued:

Previous stories of mine have been published on Nifty.
     Spying on My Brothers: (45k: Incest Section: Apr 15 2000)
     Easter Rugger Tours (Dir: HS Section: Jun 10 2000)
     Jordan's Story (84k: HS Section: Jul 23 2000)
     Flip's Tale (Dir: HS Section: Apr 17 2002)
     Taming the 'Phobes (Dir: HS; Military: August 04 2002)
                    Read and Enjoy.