Date: Thu, 08 Aug 2013 09:38:58 +0100 From: tom Subject: Brief Encounters Chap 124 Brief Encounters - the ever continuing saga... eekkk! First the mandatory warnings and disclaimers - basically don't read this if the naughty sexual exploits of young teenage schoolboys do not appeal. The characters depicted are fictional and not intentionally based upon any one person... although, if you do suddenly find yourself in the middle of the story just think how lucky you are! This is ostensibly a work of fiction, albeit with a few memories from my own school days plus some of the many invariably unspoken fantasies which I and my "best friends" would only ever rarely admit or allude to when we were at that very special, trusting and certainly innocent age. Today, it's very hard to imagine what it was like without the internet to immediately help conjure up fantasies based on images, webcams, stories or chat. Our sex lives were entirely dependant upon a very fervent imagination and thus being able to create our own fantasies usually based on friends and what we saw happening beneath the desk or in the changing rooms! I make no excuses for the fact that underwear features prominently in this story, because quite frankly it did, it was a very visible and tangible connection between us and our ever developing fascination with sex! It's important to remember that other than the very rare sexual extrovert, we never dared mention the subject because we were just too embarrassed and nobody understood what was happening to us anyway! You might call it a story about the age of discovery - usually in bed - or if you shared a bedroom with a brother, then discovery would be in the bathroom! Do note, at the time of writing the story itself is not finished and for better or worse, it has now turned into a work of some length but I will regularly post updates and there are more than enough pages written to keep it going! Nifty require a text file so if the formatting or punctuation go slightly up the creek you now know why! And, also during the writing for various reason I have had to change character names, so I hope for continuity they are now correct! Finally, I hope you enjoy it and please, please do let me have any comments or suggestions and for some of you I it might even jog a memory or two, three if you are lucky... I would be intrigued to learn! Tom email: amias09@fastmail.fm ################################################################### An apology! Do to being away for a few days and rushing back to publish in time I fear things have gawn wrong! So, dear faithful reader(s) it looks as though, in Art's graphic parlance I have made a right cock up of this one right up! Panic not, here for your delectation is the complete version of C124 which I hope will uplift spirtits and possibly other unmentionable appendages! T #################################################################### Chapter 124 – A problem of gigantic proportions "You wot?" Andy hesitantly pushed the toilet door open and peered around wondering if Art was indeed in a state of digitus magnum insertium. "Well fuckin' come in then," Art grinned, still balanced on the toilet with one hand on his cock and the other pushed between his buttocks, "you ain't got a spare pair of pants have you, `cause mines all wet now!" "Uumm.." Andy, a little taken aback at the sight tried to keep the situation on a stable footing, "well, no.. Uumm... I `spose you could borrow me gym shorts if you wants `cause I ain't gonna be wearing 'em now." "Cor thanks, that'll be better than nothing won't it?" Not really listening Andy stared at the glistening head of Art's cock poking through the closed fist, "Art wot you doing, I mean.. I know wot yer doing, but, but why?" "Because I felt like it!" "Oh, but why in yer?" "Why not? Don't you get the urge to do it now and again?" replied Art, who despite his unusual posture still managed to offer one of his winning smiles. "Uumm..." "Now listen, you knows we didn't mean to make you sick at dinner, don't you? I mean, that's honest. Is you alright now?" "Yeah, yeah, that's alright, I knows nobody thought I'd throw up!" replied Andy slowly, his gaze now having been drawn to the hand between the buttocks. "And lately, well uumm.. well, I don't think me guts is quite right anyway." "So it wasn't just the rice stuff then?" said Art sounding relieved to know it wasn't entirely his fault. "Nah. It wasn't." Andy continued to watch. "Art, but I still don`t understand why yer pants is all wet and you gotta finger up yer ass? Art grinned, flexed his sphincter and wiggled the finger, Andy's eyes grew larger as did his cock! "See, when I wanked in that bowl under the table, a gert load of that fuckin' rice fell out and musta gone in me pants," Art nodded to the wet red briefs hanging behind the door, "so then I got dried rice up me bum and I've had to wash it all. Simple innit? D'you see?" "Uumm, sort of," Andy didn't really see, but did see that he couldn't resist feeling the erection through his pocket. "So, so you bin in here washing yer clothes and picking rice out yer dirty ass?" "Well, uumm yeah I `spose so," replied Art rather nonchalantly, "but, I used all them paper towels to clean it, look the fuckin' bogs full up with 'em!" It was an irresistible invitation, to inspect the toilet bowl which was indeed full to capacity with pale blue paper towels and standing very little chance of flushing them all away in one operation. "Art, since you've used the entire fuckin' lot," Andy grinned, "yer ass must be really fuckin' clean then?" "Yeah and fuckin' yeah!" replied Art starting to laugh and almost found himself unable to complete the sentence. "So tell you wot, you show me yours and I'll..." "You wot!" Andy looked startled, the circumstances were surreal to say the least. "No, no I can't!" "But you got a gert hard on, I can see you playing with it!" replied Art looking at the moving fly of Andy's grey trousers. "Yeah but Art, I can't, honest. I've, I've said me guts ain't been right today and," Andy blushed, "and, I don't wanna do it.. I've, `cause I've been to the bog!" Slowly Art started to grin, withdrawing his hand from between his legs he began to carefully look the fingers. "Wot you mean is, you got the fuckin' Izal bog paper skidmarks, `cause you can't wipe it, you just fuckin' scrapes it!" Andy, who's anal hygiene was several trillion times more exacting than Art's clearly found the whole subject incredibly embarrassing and didn't want to discuss it at all. "Probably." he muttered. "Andy, s'alright. I was like it the other day." reassuringly Art smiled and prepared to move the subject onto a tangent he had been wanted to explore for some time. "I'll still let you see me bum though if you wants, but mind you don't touch me plaster!" Andy's cock twitched at the prospect of Art's anal inspection offer. "In fact, I reckon after using all these fuckin' wet paper towels me bums never been so clean," Art grinned again, "I'd even let you lick it if you wants!" "Dunno about that!" Andy visibly relaxed, thinking it was a joke, but the seed had definitely been planted. "Let's have a look then, uumm and you can see mine on the camping trip, promise." "Wot you mean when it's clean!" Art laughed. "That a promise? Yeah?" "Course, `cause it wouldn't have had the fuckin' stinking Izal treatment would it!" "D'you know me fingers don't smell or nothing!" Art looked at them closely for a few moments. "Oh! Oh good." not having ever wanted to smell his fingers after a little anal play Andy managed an encouraging smile even if rather unsure what to reply. "You wouldn't even know they'd been up me bum!" replied Art before suddenly putting one in his mouth! "Fuckin' hell!" Andy stepped back in surprise. "That's just been up yer ass!" "Yeah, but it don't taste of nothing do it, never does do it!" Art casually licked it again. "Now come here and have a look if you wants." After seeing Art suck a finger that had been up his bum Andy was somewhat shocked by nevertheless moved towards him, being fatally drawn by the opportunity to inspect and possibly prod a perfectly clean bum was now quite irresistible. "You can put a finger up if you wants, `cause now we knows it's clean innit?" "Uumm.. maybe." Andy's cock lurched against the growing wet spot inside his Wolsey briefs. With one leg still on the toilet and unable to properly see behind Art could only guess what Andy was intending to do. It didn't take long to find out, putting a hand on each buttock and slowing massaging in opposing circles, Art's sphincter very soon adopted a winking movement. "Fuck, that's nice. But, please don't touch me plaster." Naturally Art was not actually admitting that it was the very same motion he frequently employed before pushing something of the dubious vegetable or mineral variety hard up his passage on a Saturday night when thinking Simon in the adjoining room had gone to sleep. "Wot you gonna do now?" Andy didn't reply, instead Art felt a fingertip slowly running up the length of his crack only to pause over his hole, it seemed from the body heat that he was now standing very close. "Wot you gonna do?" repeated Art excitedly continuing to masturbate. "Dunno, just thinking about it! Wot d'you fancy?" Andy's mouth was going dry, this had now entered uncharted sexual territory. "Wot after this? Fuck I dunno, `spose we start by looking for James' new pants!" "I'd forgot about them!" "Right. Well I ain't! Now," breathed Art. "wotever it is yer wanting to do to me, just fuckin' hurry up or I'm gonna cum over the floor!" The next thing Art knew was that Andy was pressed up against him and had hooked one leg hooked around his so that he could hump himself forcefully into Art's naked thigh. "Oh fuck, yer trousers is all damp!" muttered Art excitedly as Andy pulled them tightly together. It was when Art began to feel Andy's hot breath and what seemed like a wet finger on the small of his back that he finally recognised Andy had definitely entered into the spirit of things and lost his usual self control. That was confirmed when a strange hand suddenly forced it's way between Art's legs to very roughly grab at his leaking shaft. "Oh fuck! Yer, yer poking me ass!" Art squirmed having felt a warm, wet object starting to ply his sphincter. "Hhmmm.." moaned Andy, his face buried deep between Art's buttocks. "Now... oh fuckin' hell! Yer doing it! Holy fuck! It's yer fuckin' tongue! I'm.. I'm.. cumming!" exclaimed Art having now delightedly realised it wasn't a finger, but an energetic tongue and was the experience that wet dreams could be made of. Andy's humping motion had increased to the point where Art thought he was going to loose his balance, reaching out to steady himself on the toilet wall his cock began to throb. Pulling Art tighter to maintain his own balance Andy had already started ejaculating into his briefs whilst his tongue eagerly savoured everything that was on offer between the hot buttocks. Ramming himself into Art's thigh with his briefs filling with semen his cock slid about so much it escaped the elastic to jerk against inside his grey trousers. The incredible feelings generated by licking Art's rectum, ejaculating into his own briefs whilst continuing to roughly masturbate Art between his legs was pretty much Andy's idea of heaven. However, that idea of heaven didn't include the vast quantity of spunk which Art had begun to miraculously produce from the reddened head of his cock. Hanging in long strings from Andy's fingers most of the semen found it's gravitational resting place as a glistening decoration to the sleeve of his blazer. Unable to escape the house Simon had been getting more and more frustrated at having to stay around when having nothing to do. However despite still limping, his ankle was now rapidly improving and he had been delighted to hear that his mother thought him well enough to return to school the next day, albeit with a lift in. Being as addicted to masturbation as Art and with little else to occupy the time his day started by being woken by the sound of Art's alarm clock in the adjoining room. Listening to the creaking of the bed and hearing the groans though the wall was the cue for Simon to loosen his own pyjamas and join Art for his first ejaculation of the day. Invariably he would try to catch the discharge in an old pair of briefs or if matters progressed a little too quickly then either the sheet or the stained fly of his pale green striped pyjama trousers would have to suffice. More often than not, from the moment he had ejaculated his cock would remain erect even after he had got up and dressed, meaning he had to disguise it from his mother. The reason for the constant erection was simply that he was waiting for her to go out shopping which would leave him with full access to the cummy secrets of Art's bedroom. Although quite what it was which held the fascination for him in respect of his brothers fetid underwear and disgusting habits he wasn't entirely sure, knowing only that fuelled by such thoughts he could masturbate indefinitely. Besides which, there was one secret which had so far eluded him and he was determined to find the answer. Once Linda had said she was off shopping and the closed of the front door behind her, Simon would rush upstairs to look out of the window to check she was on her way down the street. Convinced she was not going to turn back he would go into Art's room and take stock of the shambles that it usually was, starting with the bed. Art never made his bed, usually just throwing the covers back over it in an untidy heap, a heap which Simon would carefully dissect looking for signs of ejaculation, something usually accompanied by pushing a hand down the front of his shorts. With the freedom of being alone in the house, Simon had set himself the rather enviable quest of discovering exactly why Art's evening and morning emissions never seemed to leave any fresh evidence! Metaphorically, it was something he hadn't been able to put a finger on and so far hadn't found little more than traces of dried semen on the pyjamas, bedding and certainly no sign of the ubiquitous cumrag! However, the one thing he had found was that it was incredibly erotic to inspect and sniff at the dirty bedding, pyjamas and the discarded clothes that were strewn over the floor. Pulling at the bedclothes and working down through the blankets whilst slowly masturbating Simon's heart almost skipped a beat when he finally arrived at the top sheet and his highly trained nose smelt something strangely familiar. Since the sheets hadn't been changed for well over a couple of weeks the suspicious, if small wet patch was partially masked by the other small blotches of dried urine and semen. So excited at actually finding some evidence, Simon buried his head in it the sheet and drew in the potent mix of smells, finally allowing his tongue to lick it. His hand pushed down the front of his Woollworths briefs was working overtime, it was definitely time to check the bottom sheet. Barely able to contain himself at the thought of what he might discover he threw the other bedclothes on the floor and excitedly leant over the mattress to begin a detailed inspection. A detailed examination proved rather unnecessary since there was no hiding the various stains which confirmed Art to be indulging in some rather messy practices. However much to Simon's disappointment there was nothing which resembled the obvious signs of the full scale ejaculations which he had hoped to find as in the past. There were simply numerous small yellowing spots of either pee or spunk and some puzzling faint brown marks, which unknown to Simon resulted from the withdrawal of the weekly vegetable toys. Had he realised, carrots with Sunday lunch would never be the same again! Rapidly pulling his shorts and briefs down to his knees and masturbating at a faster rate Simon again scoured the bottom sheet for signs of fresh semen, but there were none. Disappointed that Art had once again evaded detection he rather awkwardly climbed onto the bed and lowered himself down so that his erection touched the sheet. If Art wasn't going to leave his mark, then he would! Pushing himself down he began to hump the bed, in fact just as Art had done only hours before. Suddenly he spotted Art's pyjama trousers partially hidden and pushed under the edge of the mattress, on pulling them out he was rewarded by finding a sticky area around the fly. Having again confirmed that Art had ejaculated he continued humping the bed, his white bum in the air, briefs and blue shorts around his knees with the pyjama trousers on the pillow. Pushing his head into them he licked and sucked the congealing spunk around the fly until he ejaculated copiously onto the bottom sheet. Idolising Art, was something Simon would never admit to and he thought this unusual form of brotherly bonding would somehow bring them closer. The act being concluded by rubbing his stomach over the discharge until both he and the sheet were smeared with semen, at which point he simply lay exhausted on the bed sniffing the bedding. "Simon, are you upstairs?" Linda's voice rang up the stairs a couple of seconds after the front door had closed behind her. In horror, Simon's immediate reaction was to sit bolt upright and then jump off the bed and attempt to pull his shorts up as he did so. "Ohhhhh ssshhiiiiii..." he cried having landed awkwardly on his bad ankle and then noisily fallen over. "Simon, What is it? What have you done now!" called Linda having heard the crash and already started towards the staircase. "Just tripped.. I'm alright.." Simon replied screwed his face up in pain and feeling his ankle, "mum I'm coming down now... you, you stay there." "Oh no, Simon I'll come up and see what's happened." "No! Fuck! Fuck!" he said under his breath pulling his shorts up over his wet stomach and hobbling as quickly as he could towards the pile of bedclothes on the floor. Throwing them on top the bed he turned hoping to get out of the room before his mother appeared. "Oh, you're in Art's room." Linda seemed a little surprised to see him coming out of the doorway as she reached the landing. "I was, was uumm.. looking for something.. for school.." he replied hesitantly. Not only did he sound unconvincing, he looked incredibly flushed and guilty. "Simon what have you been doing, you look very guilty!" smiling, Linda intended the comment only as joke and was quite unaware that in dressing so quickly he had also twisted his underpants so that it felt as though he were being castrated! "I.. I... nothing.. mum nothing..." bright red, he tried to move to the top of the staircase to escape downstairs. Unfortunately at that point his ankle decided to give way again and he collapsed in a heap inadvertently crossing his legs in the process and crushing his balls which were protruding from the elastic inside his shorts! "Oh darling, let me help get you on your bed," said Linda seeing he appeared to be in some pain and moving to pick him up, "you're going to make that ankle a lot worse if you're not careful then you won't be able to go back to school before the half term." Simon didn't actually reply as she helped him to his feet, instead he blinked back the tears caused by the pain between his legs and wondered if he would ever be able to masturbate again! "What`s that smell?" asked Linda as she helped him limp back into his own room. "Wot! Wot smell? " he asked innocently despite again flushing a brilliant shade of red although safe in the knowledge that since his shirt was stuck to him with semen it was unlikely to ride up outside his shorts. "Oh I don't know, probably something from that Art's room!" she looked at him. "What were you after in there anyway, you know he doesn't like us going in." "Me... me uumm.. getting me compass.. he lent it off me.." Simon thought as rapidly as he could, "it's needed for maths innit?" "Simon, he didn't lend if off you, you let him borrow it." Linda raised he eyebrows in despair. "Don't they teach you anything, it's supposed to be a grammar school!" "Sorry." thankfully he lay back on the bed, his balls throbbing more than his ankle. "Now stay there," she said turning to go out of the room, "if you let that ankle recover for an hour I expect it will be alright." "Yes mum." watching the door partially close he put one hand very gingerly down the front of his blue shorts, the other hand up the left leg and attempted to massage his elliptical appendages. "I'm just going to try and tidy Art's room a bit." she called out crossing the landing. "Wot mum! Yer not are you?" he called at the half open door. "He'll go mad!" "Simon I know that," she called back, "but, I do want to change those sheets. They must be revolting by now and I've asked him countless times to do it last week!" "No, no... not the sheets..." Simon's voice trailed off, he waited with baited breath only too aware of what was to happen next. He didn't have to wait too long, within a couple of minutes there was a shriek from across the landing. "Oh my god!" shouted Linda rapidly wiping her hand on the dirty bedding. "It's disgusting, won't he ever stop doing it!" "Wot is it mum?" despite knowing full well what had happened, Simon was unable to stop himself from asking. "I think we both know what he's been doing," she paused and then emphasised the last three words, "don't we Simon?" Simon cringed, he knew exactly what she meant. Very uncharacteristically Linda was for once being very blunt. Very blunt, but surely he thought not implying that she had noticed his seminal contributions as well? Keeping up with the mountain of washing the boys produced, all graphically adorned with semen wasn't something she found particularly enticing nor a subject she could actually put into words. Now, she had for what must be the N'th time she had inadvertently handled Art's bedding impregnated with fresh semen, a disgusting habit she'd hoped he had finally grown out of. To compound her feelings it had been bad enough having Art ejaculating over everything for the last three years, but now Simon was also in full flow, albeit under the naive impression that his emissions were going unnoticed. Understandably, the maternal patience was stretched to the limit. For Simon though there was now a problem of gigantic proportions. Should he let Art be accused of defiling his bedding when he had not or, or what? "Now come on class keep up," Miss Olsen strode down the side of the playing field, "it's probably our last chance to get out here and find some specimens before the rain sets in over the weekend." "Wot we gonna get now?" whispered Tom to Alex. "I dunno, more bloody leaves and things," Alex shrugged his shoulders, "she'll want us to cut `em up again I `spose like last week." "I mean, why do we need to cut 'em up anyway?" Tom pulled a face. "It's only bits of plants innit?" "It's all do with all that chloro.. uumm chloro... chlorothing stuff innit?" said Brian. "I thought that was a toothpaste!" Alex laughed. "Well wotever it, is I'm glad she got us out of the bleeding classroom `cause it was beginning to stink of pee wunnit?" said Tom. "D'you reckon she could really smell something then?" asked Brian sniffing as they walked along. "Well I can, can't you?" replied Tom. "We shouldn't have done it should we, I mean really like? Gawd, we was really lucky to get away with it when the bell rang wasn't we?" "Bloody lucky." agreed Brian. "Only just made the class." "Nah, yer right, we shouldn't done not really I `spose." said Alex beginning to sniff his own uniform. "I know it was fun at the time, but it was a gert mistake wunnit." "If you means you smells of piss and yer shorts are all stuck to yer legs, then yeah it was!" said Tom. "But I wanna do it again, somewhere where we won't be caught." Alex nodded in complete agreement. "In our white shorts and that, that's wot you means innit?" Tom grinned. "Yeah and we got next week to do it." "Hey, look." Brian nodded towards Charles who appeared to be walking in a rather awkward manner few paces ahead. "Look at Gog's you can tell his shorts is still all wet and stuck to him." "He enjoyed it didn't he?" added Tom. "And he said he's pissed himself before ain't he?" "Well be honest, we all enjoyed it, didn't we?" said Alex. "Right, well if we did then wot we gotta do," Tom grinned, "is to dress for it and find somewhere to do it proper over the half term break innit?" "You just said that!" replied Alex excitedly pushed his hand into the wet lining of his shorts pocket. "With us all wearing our gym shorts and that?" "Course, wot else?" said Tom. "They goes all see through when they`re all wet don't they!" "Yeah." Alex's hand movements increased. "But where, that's the big question innit?" "And I'll bet Gog's will be keen won't he?" said Brian. "Now, we gonna let Barry come along?" "Why not." said Alex. "But then wot about yer brother Robbie, d'you want him as well?" "Dunno." Brian rubbed the front of his shorts. "Oh I `spose so, after all him and Barry are always at it somewhere and I 'spose Gog's willy's is about their size!" "Right that's settled then." said Tom. "On shit, now listen `cause I forgot to say something, Art grabbed me just before dinner and said he thought Simon would be back tomorrow. So if he is, we can get the details all worked out with Dave and Joe as well." "Right. But where the hell could we do it without being caught." asked Brian. "That's the problem innit?" said Tom, his fingers in his pocket trying to peel his wet briefs away from his stomach. "Dunno, I need to think about that." said Alex, thinking that since his briefs were already wet he might as well have another session in the bath when he got home. "Hey!" Brian suddenly pulled at Tom's arm. "I got it, I knows where we can do it!" "Well bugger me!" "I nearly did!" Andy burst out laughing and turned to see Art rummaging through the clothes hanging in the corner of the changing room. "Oh bloody hell!" exclaimed Art in surprise. "Well wot you found now?" "Shit, well I ain't seen nothing like it!" "Seen like fuckin' wot?" Andy quickly pushed Harry's heavily stained Y-fronts back into the hanging trousers and walked the few paces to where Art was standing. "Well wot is then?" "You still got yer hard on?" "Course I fuckin' have!" Andy flushed, still not entirely comfortable in admitting it. "Bleeding hell Art, wot d'you fuckin' expect after we've just looked at every pair of pants in the place!" "Nah, we ain't just looked at 'em," replied Art, "we've fuckin' inspected 'em, there's a gert difference!" "Oh alright, we've fuckin' gert inspected 'em for pee and cum stains." "How can I fuckin' teach you about the fuckin' finer points of dirty pants if you don't even get the terminfuckinology right!" said Art trying not to laugh and obviously clutching something under his blazer. "You only gotta do this a couple of times before you'll know who does wot in their pants!" "Wot d'you fuckin' mean?" said Andy start to laugh. "You'll know?" "Well I knows wot they all wears, like Harry's Y-fronts is always covered in pee stains and, and Richard tucks his vest into his pants to soak up all the precum and.." he paused for a second, "Nigel's Y-fronts is worn out! Ian cums in his and wears 'em for a couple of days at a time and.. and Martin's pale blue Y-fronts often has spunk stains! That do for a start?" "Oh shit!" said Andy really surprised at Art's encyclopedic knowledge of his classmates underwear. "So, so wot d'you about me?" "You wears Wolsey X, you cums in 'em now and again and you usually has skid marks!" "Oh fuck!" Andy went bright red. "Yer mate James gets 'em very yellow with piss and wanks in 'em occasionally! He's got worn out St Michael which is why his mum's just bought him something new!" "Fuck! You knows everybody in the class!" "Yeah and a lot of them in Simon's year!" Art grinned proudly. "It takes a lotta training, but don't forget I started doing this when I was a first year." "Oh fuckin' hell!" Andy shook his head in disbelief, he knew he took an interest in other boys underpants, but nothing on the scale of Art's amazing knowledge. "Oh Art, for fucks sake shut up and get on with it, so wot have you found now then?" "Before I shows you, d'you reckon you could cum again?" Art smiled, one of those smiles. Andy just knew he would do whatever was requested of him. "It's only been twenty minutes or so since we did?" "Course I fuckin' can, I often does it twice at night before I goes to sleep !" "Only twice!" Art's smile changed to an evil grin. "Right then, `cause now we're both gonna wank over James' new pants!" "You wot!" "No, not you, we! Don't forget he's fuckin' cum in 'em himself at dinner time when you was starting to throw up so they're already sticky!" Theatrically from under his blazer Art produced what at first glance looked like a pair of white briefs and proceeded to lay them out on the bench. "Fuckin' assholes! So that's wot his mum bought him!" exclaimed Andy looking at them in disbelief. "No wonder he was all fuckin' worried about being seen in 'em! Looks like somebody's knitted them sides onto the middle bit!" "It's called string underwear innit?" Art poked at the pouch, still quite sticky from James earlier ejaculation. "Look, the label says St Michael, so they're Marks and Sparks, I'll bet they even does a matching vest!" "Bloody hell, Marks and Sparks!" repeated Andy in amazement. "They're horrible! Reckon they sell many?" "Dunno, don't care, but fuckin' listen," said Art, "we'll both wank into the pouch bit then he won't know wot's happened and just think he musta done a really gert load at dinner time!" "Oh fuck!" Andy started to laugh. "No, we ain't fuckin'," Art grinned, "well not this time, we're just wanking!" "Can you imagine it," spluttered Andy "you'd feel a right fuckin' cunt wearing the complete matching set to school wouldn't you?" "Never!" Art burst out laughing and started to unzip his trousers to reveal the head of his cock visible through the wet front of Andy's grubby white gym shorts which he had opted to wear in place of his wet red briefs. Taking the hint and suddenly feeling very uninhibited Andy unzipped his trousers and allowed them to drop to his knees to expose the front of his Wolsey briefs wet with spunk from his recent ejaculation. "Cor, they looks all juicy! And, you stinks of cum!" said Art sniffing as he bent down to look at the reddened head of Andy's cock which was now starting to escape the elastic. "Still I `spose you can use a bit of it for lube, looks like you could do with it!" "D'you want some, me pants is full up!" Andy started to giggle uncontrollably. "Mmhh.. why not!" Art rubbed his fingers firmly of the front and watched as Andy wriggled under his hand. "Art don't do that again, I might cum!" "Ain't that wot we's here for?" Andy grinned, his twitching cock poked from the side of the briefs. Running his hand up the shaft, it was indeed as Art had so rightly surmised somewhat sticky and in need of some lubricant. "You be careful getting yer cock out me gym shorts, don't rip 'em for fucks sake or me mum'll go bonkers." "I'm surprised she'd even wanna to touch 'em, you been doing things in 'em long before I `em put on!" replied Art pulling the waistband down under his balls and allowing his own much abused organ to twang into focus. "She bloody won't if she knows wot you've been doing in 'em!" Andy glanced at the liquid that was already appearing to seep from the end of Art's cock. "Please, please try not to bring 'em back all covered in cum!" "Would I? Look, I'll wash 'em meself for you!" Art grinned and spat into the palm of his hand. "Now get wanking, first one to cum gets to finish tossing the other off then we gotta tidy that fuckin' cupboard or Hawkins won't love us no more!" ######################################################## Chap 125 to follow