Date: Wed, 04 Dec 2013 20:24:37 +0000 From: amias09@fastmail.fm Subject: Brief encounters Chap 132 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 ##################################################################### >>>>>>>>> Very sorry to have missed a week boys and girls, but I'm sure you will all understand than when in hospital it's not so easy to post! #################################################################### Chapter 132 – "He was practising hard this morning!" "Nigel Blake! This is your the third and final warning! If you don't bring all that revolting washing down here within the next five minutes I promise you, you're going on that camping trip wearing Davey's clothes" Upstairs in his bedroom Nigel was tearing around in an absolute panic and literally turning everything upside down in a very belated effort to find the contents of his wardrobe scattered, it now seemed throughout the entire universe. "Wot you done now then?" asked Davey having heard the shouting and appearing around the door. "Cor it's a right mess in yer innit!" "Fuckin' piss off!" "Four minutes left!" >From the tone of his mothers voice Nigel knew this was no joke and kicked himself for not taking her previous requests for dirty washing more seriously. "I'm expecting four filthy white shirts, four pairs of those disgusting pants," the voice boomed up the stairs, this was life-threatening stuff as the edge to the voice confirmed, "all of those foul socks and two pairs of dirty school trousers!" "Fuck, fuck!" cried Nigel disappearing under the bed to emerge with a shirt covered in blue ink and what looked suspiciously to Davey as some very dirty and distinctly yellowing Y-fronts. "Look like you got yer four shirts and them horrible trousers." observed Davey kicking at the growing pile on the floor. "There's a gert pile of filthy socks in the corner under yer chest of drawers." "Good, wondered where they was." "Three minutes and don't forget those pyjamas either!" reminded the voice. "I ain't touching they!" remarked Jamie poking them with a broken pencil only to expose the innumerable stains that decorated them. "You don't half wank a lot Nige, parts of them trousers still looks wet!" "Oh fuck off, that was a fuckin' accident this morning!" Nigel stopped and suddenly looked up grinning, "Well it's fuckin' Saturday innit? Bet you tried to cum anyway?" "Might have. Still can't do it yet." Davey blushed. "Anyway it ain't my clothes she wants to sort, so now you gotta find yer pants! D'you wanna hand?" "Uumm, I dunno." The truth was he didn't want a hand because he knew only too well what an embarrassing collection of semen soaked specimens they were. After the earlier mutual masturbation episode between the two brothers and Art, sexual relations between Nigel and his younger brother were extremely open. In fact it turned Nigel on to actively encourage Davey to try to attain the elusive ejaculation by giving him a brotherly helping hand his quest. Even so, Nigel though made sure that Davey was not privy to all of his sometimes rather obscure masturbatory exploits, especially when they involved skipping rope handles or suitable vegetables! "Well you only got one pair." chimed Davey, it seemed Nigel but had no choice and accept his bothers help, over excited as he was. "Have another look under the bed Nige." "Two minutes, Nigel that's all!" "Fuckin' assholes!" said Nigel disappearing yet again under the bed to resurface with an even more revolting, grubby, yellow stained pair of Y-fronts. In fact, the ones he hadn't want Davey to see! "Bleeding hell, look at the skidmarks in them!" Davey pointed and immediately dissolved into a fit of giggles. "You ain't giving them to mum is you, she'll think you shit yerself!" "Oh fuck you, I've seen your pants and all!" red with embarrassment Nigel looked around in panic, then suddenly ripped the bedclothes off to expose three enormous stains on the bottom sheet, but at the foot of the bed, obviously kicked off in excitement lay another pair of equally stained briefs. "Three and they got gert piss stains as well!" chanted Davey who was finding the whole thing very illuminating and rubbing his large ten year old erection through his pocket. "You needs one more pair." "One minute Nigel, that's all!" "Fuck!" Of course there weren't any more since one pair had been destroyed by some over enthusiastic sex play which encompassed ripping a hole in the seat to make way for an extremely large carrot whilst smearing the inside of the pouch with Vaseline! And, the last wearable pair had been lent to Art a couple of weeks back when he had paid a visit and managed to have a seminal accident of such magnificent proportions as to render his own underpants totally unwearable. It was time for the very last resort. "Now don't fuckin' say nothing or I'll fuckin' kill you!" said Nigel pointing at Davey as he fairly ripped his jeans off and briefs off in one movement. "Yer willy's nearly up!" exclaimed Davey pointing to the member hanging somewhat heavily between his legs. "And, you stinks of spunk!" "I said, fuckin' shut up!" replied Nigel dropping the warm, if rather damp and smelly briefs onto the pile. "Bleedin' hell, you really is afraid of her ain't you?" "And if you ain't, then you're a fuckin' little liar!" "Well a bit maybe." Davey smiled. "Sorry, I ain't tried to make you mad honest, it's just so funny that's all." "No it ain't fuckin' funny!" Nigel looked at him, then slowly smiled. "It fuckin' is innit! Coming mum." Stuffing his cock inside the fly and quickly zipping it up to catch some of his pubic hairs in the process he ran out the door leaving Davey with the comment. "Fuckin' hell these jeans is cutting me balls to pieces!" Davey watched with great amusement as Nigel limped off very gingerly towards the stairs with the bundle of clothes in his arms trying to ensure the more disgusting items were hidden from view. "Drop it all there on the floor, I'll need to sort it into whites or coloured." Mary was waiting hands on hips by the twin-tub machine. She knew it was all a bit theatrical, but was determined he would be sent off on his camping trip with sufficient clean clothes for every day he was there. "Nigel, while you are at it, looks like you're forgotten your pyjamas. And, you might as well bring any games kit you have as well, let's do the revolting whole lot." "Yes mum." he replied meekly and returned very painfully back up the stairs, his pubic hairs caught in the zip pulling at his balls and his bum cheeks feeling as though the rough seam on the cheap jeans were sawing him in half. "D'you get away with it then?" asked Davey who was now sat on the bed having been studying the enormity of the semen patches on the bottom sheet, one of which still felt rather damp. "Now she want's me bleeding school games kit and me pyjamas." he sighed and bent over his school bag only to instantly stand up again to carefully unzip the fly and extricate the trapped hairs. "Don't get skidmarks on yer jeans as well!" said Davey starting to laugh again. "Will you fuckin' shut yer teeth!" Nigel's patience was wearing thin. Grabbing the damp pyjamas and the filthy white games shorts, football shirt and holey socks he set off at high speed towards the stairs. "Drop all that coloured stuff on that pile there," said Mary pointing, "my god are those shorts supposed to be white! When were they last washed?" "Umm.. mum.. I dunno.." Nigel looked down only to be faced by the pile of theoretical whites. Topping which, by sheer chance the pair of briefs containing the giant skidmarks and innumerable semen stains which had landed inside out on top the pile. He closed his eyes, his face already red, this was so, so embarrassing. "Nigel, I'm glad you saw that lot," said Mary quite mercilessly on seeing his reaction, "and you're fifteen. It's about time you started taking some pride in your personal hygiene, even Davey's pants aren't that bad!" To just agree and look like a scolded five year old was by far the safest option. "Yer right mum, I'm sorry.. I'm.." words failed him, the colour of his face said it all. "What would your friends think if they saw you changing for games and you took off a pair of pants like that!" He winced, that really hurt. "Oh mum, please don't say that." Nevertheless it was true as he had worn them for three days earlier in the week and as he knew only too well it was commonplace for the boys to peek at who was wearing what and with what stains when changing. "Love, I'm sorry if it hurts but you have to get yourself together." she looked at him, maybe she had gone a bit far. "I'm only saying it because it's true, even you must have been embarrassed just you are now! I would think you were the laughing stock!" "Yeah well, I was!" He didn't mean to admit it, but in the highly charged atmosphere the truth as told by Ian who had happened to see just slipped out. Immediately he went from red to the proverbial beetroot colour. "I'm not surprised." looking him in the face it seemed he was almost about to cry, it seemed she had overdone the theatrical anger, but if it brought some improvement it could be a price worth paying. "Now go up and bring the sheets down as well, I hate to think what they are like." Dejectedly he walked up the stairs, the seam of the jeans chaffing his buttocks. "Fuck, you still here? Why don't you piss off!" he said on seeing Davey still sat on the bed. "Fuck you too!" replied Davey, being well versed in the brotherly insults. He stood up and peered down continuing to examine the bedclothes. "You don't half wank a lot!" "Fuck off, I mean it." suddenly he just sat on the bed and put his head in his hands. "Sorry." "Wass up?" Davey sidled up to sit by him. "I was only messing about for a bit of a laugh." "Well it ain't no fucking laugh `cause mums having a real gert fuckin' go at me over me fuckin' clothes and that." he looked at Davey. "Now she wants the fuckin' sheets as well." "Oh fuck!" Davey giggled. "Well they can't be any worse than yer pants so come on, lets take 'em down to her together!" With that example of Davey's simple logic, Nigel gave in, he stood up and smiled. Together they rolled the sheets into a ball only to discover that the under blanket was thoroughly stuck to the mattress and looked as though it had a bucket of dried wallpaper paste poured over it! "I've had this mattress since I was about twelve mind." said Nigel blushing as Davey started giggling again and pointing to it in amazement. "And you ain't taken the blanket off since!" "Shut up, at least I can make spunk!" Nigel looked at Davey, it was a little unfair. "I will soon." he snapped. "Bleeding hell Dave, can't you see I'm fuckin' stressed right out." he slapped him playfully on the bum. "It's not you, it's me innit? D'you understand wot I mean?" "Yeah, sort of. Alright sorry, Nige." "Mum, Davey gave me a hand." Nigel appeared in the kitchen doorway holding the sheets with Davey lurking behind and sniggering. "I'm surprised he wanted to touch them!" she looked at Davey. "Now you, I want to have a word with Nigel in private so will you go out and leave us for a minute. In fact you can go up and sort your room out, because I'll inspect that this afternoon!" "Wot!" Davey went pale and took off up the stairs like a rocket, having now seen what had befallen Nigel. Nigel's heart sank, he didn't know what was coming, but had a dreadful feeling he was going to get given an ultimatum to get himself together as Art had been when his mother couldn't cope any more. "Right sit down." said Mary pulling out a chair from the kitchen table. He duly sat in utter silence trying to steel himself for the worst. "Now," Mary pulled a chair up beside him, it seemed pretty obvious from his body language that fifteen or not he was scared stiff, "now, listen Nigel.." "Wot is it mum?" he barely croaked. "I want to say I'm sorry if I've over reacted this morning. We both know your father is absolutely useless when it comes to helping me with you two and sometimes I feel like a single parent and get so mad at him!" "Wot?" Nigel couldn't really believe what he was hearing. "He's had to go to work this morning," she paused, "he's a really good man and he loves us all dearly, but for whatever reason he seems to have left it to me to cope with you two for the last couple of years." "Well.. mum.. uumm.." Nigel couldn't add anything, she looked close to tears. "Love, I know your at a funny age and let's be honest you're sexually very, very active aren't you?" He nodded. He blushed, he went bright red. "Sorry, but it's so obvious and we both know it don't we?" looking him in the face she continued. "Now, in fact I saw Art's mum, Linda a couple of weeks back for a cup of tea and she said she was at her wits end and going through exactly the same thing with Art." "You did?" he was genuinely shocked. The prospect of them discussing in graphic detail the varied and numerous stains, ruined sheets and missing underpants was unthinkable. "I expect you know Art was given a very hard time and unless you get yourself together and take a bit of pride in your appearance and help me, so are you. I hate seeing you going and coming back from school looking like a tramp, it reflects on me as your mother." "Mum.." Nigel was going redder and redder as she spoke. "Let me finish. It's embarrassing enough as it to have to say this stuff as it is, your father should be doing it," she paused again, it was painful to say, "for god's sake Nigel just look at that pile of washing, do you think I like dealing with all that semen stained stuff, it's disgusting!" "No." Nigel's eyes were tightly closed, tears were forming in the corners of his eyes. "I'm sorry, I really am to go on at you like this but, I can't do everything. You have to help and how many times have I have asked you nicely to sort out your dirty washing?" She was of course right. He opened his eyes when he felt her hand placed on top of his and then gripped tightly. They were both crying. "Now, promise you will help me, please." He nodded. "And, don't forget shortly I'm going to have Davey starting doing all this as well." she managed a smile. Nigel rubbed his eyes. "No mum yer wrong, `cause he's started already!" "Oh no, he hasn't!" the news wasn't good, but she could see the funny side. "You're joking!" " `fraid not," he blushed " 'cause I know he was practising hard this morning!" "What," she said in surprise, "you, you mean he, he tells you?" "Mum, I love him, he's my little brother, if he asks and needs help I give it." "You're something else you are! Come here," she stood up. "how on earth did I produce two boys like you? Nigel, sex it's all you think of!" "Mum, I can't help it." blushing, he cautiously stood up and pushed the chair back. "I know you can't seem to help it, but at least could you try and control it. Now look, I just want to say I know I lose my temper with you," she put her arms around him, "but I do love you both so much." She hugged him tightly, he didn't say anything. Tears formed in his eyes yet again, this was the closest he had been to his mother in a long while. "Nigel, all that aside I'm really so pleased you two are getting on so well as brothers. You will look after him won't you?" "Promise." "Now, I have to get on." she tried to look composed, but obviously wasn't. "But first I'm going to tell you something that I really shouldn't, it's a bit rude and it's to do with you two boys being oversexed! "Oh mum, wot!" he looked in amazement. "It'll make you smile," she said, smiling herself, "you remember when you and Davey were little, my sister Liz used to come over and help bath you and put you to bed." "Yeah, auntie Liz. She's luvly, always got a joke." he was puzzled, "so wot was so funny about that?" "Well, we always used to laugh, since every time she'd finished bathing you two she'd look at me and say, have you seen the size of these two boys, wish I'd met somebody like that!" "Don't understand," then he suddenly clutched her arm tightly. "Oh mum, you don't mean.." "I do, but I am your mother!" They laughed, she pulled him close and kissed him again. They stood for a second and looked at each other, both feeling an awful lot better, if a little fragile. "Now, to work. I'm never going to get this lot dry today and it's going to rain, but we have to get you washed for that trip." she pointed to the piles of washing on the floor. "Whether or not he likes it, dad is going to have to take this to the big drier at the launderette later, meantime will you please do me a favour?" "Yeah, course." Nigel was still rather flattered at the thought his auntie had obviously decided both brothers were more than well endowed. "Just nip down to shops on your bike and get me another packet of washing powder," she looked for her purse on the table, "I'll need it for the second wash, but looking at the weather it might be better to go now before it rains." The journey to the shops was uneventful, other than the fact the rear seam of his jeans felt as though it was slicing him in two and the sky was getting darker. Emerging from the shop clutching the box of Tide he returned to his bike, wrapped the bag over the handle bars and rather gingerly climbed back in the saddle. "Oh fuckin' hell that's all I need!" he said to himself as having only got few yards down the road before large drops of rain began to slowly fall. It seemed pretty obvious he wasn't going to make it home in the dry and with the rainfall now rapidly increasing he headed the couple of hundred yards towards the small square by the post office, knowing he could shelter under the large oak tree till at least the rain had eased off. Although by the time he had finally reached the shelter of the tree and lent his bike against it he was pretty much soaked through. The weather, though having been warm for so long meant it was a muggy atmosphere and certainly not cold. However, sitting on the bench with little to occupy his mind in soaking wet jeans and wearing no underpants the inevitable happened, it looked as though he had half a baguette stuffed down the left hand leg of his jeans. Despite all the talk and promises to his mother the overriding question was dare he masturbate through his wet jeans and shoot down the side of his leg. Serious contemplation was called for and he just stared at the enormous bulge whilst pinching the end of his foreskin through the denim. "You dirty fucker!" Nigel immediately sat bolt upright, white with fright he looked desperately around to see who it was that had caught almost in the sexual act. "Was you really gonna have a proper wank?" Martin appeared from around the trunk of the tree looking equally wet. "I thought it was you, I got bloody soaked going to the post office for me mum, just come out and saw you." "Fuckin' assholes, you scared the fuckin' shit outta me." replied Nigel letting out a long breath. "That's one way of putting I `spose!" Martin laughed, his hand now in his pocket. "Well, was you really gonna cum in yer jeans then?" Nigel looked around, "Probably, I ain't got no pants on, me wet jeans is all sticking to me, plus I gotta fuckin' hard on and a half! If I don't do it yer, I'll have to do it at home!" "No pants?" repeated Martin excitedly. He didn't have actual blue jeans on, they were a sort of buff colour, but now being wet the outline of his briefs and the bulge were quite unmistakable. "I can see the elastic of yer pants through yer wet jeans." Nigel grinned and continued to stare with X-ray eyes. "Them blue Y-fronts I `spose?" Martin nodded. "Wish I had something like that instead of me saggy bleeding white ones." he looked unhappily at the rain falling in the puddles. "I just had another sorta big fuckin' row with me mum." "Oh, over wot?" "Usual shit, it's when I've been a stupid cunt to meself. Mart, sit by me will you. Please. I, I ain't.." he stopped shook his head and blinked several times, "I, uumm, I ain't quite meself." "Nige, wot's want me do to help?" There was lump in Martin's throat. Knowing how good both Art and Nigel had been to him when he had had problems with Frank, his mothers ex-partner maybe it was payback time. "Don't laugh, but just hold me hand and sit here." he indicated to his left side. "It was all the usual shit over me being a fuckin' mess, everything I do being a fuckin' mess and everything I own being a fuckin' mess covered in fuckin' spunk!" he stopped and started to cry quietly. "I'm just, just a fuckin' mess." "No, come on, Nige no. No. No you ain't." he squeezed his hand as hard as he could. "D'you know how many of us fuckin' rely on you, you're the one who always knows wot to do when things goes wrong and is always ready to help anybody." "No I ain't, you're fuckin' making all that up." "I fuckin' ain't. So fuckin' tell me wot happened then and I'll judge for meself." It was now Martin's turn to keep from crying as he listened to a rather sad and disjointed tale of Nigel's domestic failures and parental relationships, particularly with his father. "So, but you did hug each other and all that then come the end?" "Yeah, we meant it as well, I do love mum and I know she loves me, it's just.. well, we always seem to end up having a fuckin' row over something stupid." "Dare I mention yer dad?" "Yeah, you can mention the bastard," Nigel smiled through his tears, "mention, `cause that's about as far as I ever fuckin' gets to him as well!" "Oh Nige." Martin wiped his eyes. "I'm sorry." "Mum keeps saying he's such a good man. Well if he's such a fuckin' good man why ain't he the one telling me to stop wanking over everything and be at home for a change, instead of going fuckin' fishing! She's fuckin' kidding herself, it's no wonder she looses it with us two is it? Ain't fair on her is it?" "And Davey?" Martin avoided passing judgement on the missing father figure, his own father dead. "Poor kid, he ain't seen him neither, in fact he don't even mention dad now. Seems like I'm his dad now, him and I do lot's together, and.." that admission brought even more tears. "And.." "And?" "Please, I know you won't say nothing, but Art knows. See Davey's so close to me now without dad being about that, well, we, we..," Nigel looked at Martin, "well, we.. we wanks together, he can't cum yet and.. oh.. fuck, wot the hell! You might as well know, sometimes when he's unhappy he sleeps in me bed with me. We loves each other." "Oh I want my dad too!" the diminutive Martin burst into tears, the connections were too strong. "I miss my dad! Why can't he come back?" With Martin's father dead, Nigel was stuck for a reply and said the only thing he knew to be true. "You got yer mum, she loves you," taking a deep breath he falteringly continued through his tears, "and we loves you. You's like a brother and, and then there's Ian, well I think he really loves you, y'know he's always on about you!" With little else to say they went very quiet, each in their own world. Accompanied by a constant stream of tears, occasional sniffs they held each other hands. Finally Martin looked up and wiped his red eyes on the back of his hand. "You're such a luvly person." "Oh fuck off Mart!" Nigel blinked several times and wiped his eyes yet again, again. "Looks like the rains stopping," Martin sniffed and added in a cracking voice, "would you give me a big hug?" Nigel didn't need a second invitation, it was what they both wanted. Wrapping arms around each other they held on, the emotion almost palpable, before parting Nigel was unable to resist planting a large wet kiss on the back of Martin's neck. "Nige," whispered Martin, "I'm not sure I wanna have that wank, I did before but somehow it don't seem right now." "Even I have gotta agree, I'll do something later on when I get's home." "But there is something else," Martin swallowed, "I know this ain't quite the right time to ask, but since we're alone, would you, I mean, sometime would you fuck my ass proper!" "Wot! But I'd hurt you," Nigel was very surprised at the request, particularly under the circumstances, "y'know it's all very well me having a fuckin' gert cock but there ain't nobody brave enough to want it up 'em!" "Ian and I have talked about it a lot!" despite the red eyes Martin smiled, clearly he was coming back to his old self. "Wot about me cock!" "Yeah, well you and yer cock. Wot we wants on the camping trip is for Ian to do me, I'd let Art do it after and then when me bum was all slack and full of cum you could finger me and try to get yours up!" "Really! You want all that?" Nigel looked very excited at rhe thought of it. It had to be said even though they had agreed an immediate wank was off the agenda, both now had erections. "Yeah, really. We both do." Martin blushed "I want my bumhole filled up with spunk from my real friends, one after the other and I wanna feel wot a real cock is like!" "Why me? But Ian, you sure he won't mind?" "No, he wants to do it that way as well, like I just told you before." Martin rubbed his eyes, "It's all `cause you and Art are so luvly, you cares. Ian, loves you both too." "I'd uumm... I'd, better get the washing powder home." stuttered Nigel, almost on the verge of tears again. "I, I uumm...you're just so nice and, and gentle. Oh fuck, I want you as well, and, and... oh fuck, I gotta go!" Looking back as he cycled off through the rain Nigel smiled. Martin waved, rubbed his eyes yet again and set off far happier on the wet ride home knowing the rain would wash his face and freshen him up. Besides, he had something to look forward having planned an anal assault on himself at bedtime, what might be called a rehearsal for the camping trip. Wearing an old pair of white briefs and using hand cream as lube he'd intended starting first with one finger, then two before graduating to a medium sized carrot which he though matched Ian's proportions. And finally, to a considerably larger carrot thought to represent Nigel's gloriously thick seven inches of adolescent cock. Whatever, come what may it would be fun trying! ########################################################## Chap 133 to follow