Date: Wed, 29 Jun 2011 14:47:42 +0100 From: tom Subject: Chapter 76 Brief Encounters 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 *************************************************************************************************** Chapter 76 – Singing in the rain "Oh uumm.. hello mum." Desperately hoping he didn't look as embarrassed as he felt Martin sidled into the kitchen to find his mother busily engaged at the sink. "Ah, you're awake then?" she turned, smiled and returned to the sink. "Yeah, I ummm.. I... I.." his preplanned excuses forgotten he dried up and instead started to fiddle with kettle as a means of distraction, only to drop the lid onto the tiled floor. "Butterfingers." she smiled. "Bring it here and I'll rinse it off, I could do with a cup anyway." Was this some form of an act, surely she must have seen the state he was in and what he had been doing. His cock, miraculously still erect even under these trying circumstances rubbed uncomfortably on the rough denim as he walked awkwardly over to offer the lid. Surely one of them ought to say something soon, he was becoming more and more nervous by the second. "I'll put the kettle on," he felt a hand around his shoulder, "we ought to have a little chat. So instead of dropping things you go in the lounge and sit down, I'll bring the tea in." Feeling distinctly fragile he momentarily closed his eyes and nodded. Praying that he could control his emotions he walked to the lounge and sat on the sofa, only to notice how much his jeans were still tenting. Listening for the sounds in the kitchen he pushed his hand down the front of the jeans and managed to get his unruly organ back in his sagging briefs to lessen the bulge. "Now here we are, move up!" Putting the tea tray on the small table in front of them, Susan made to sit beside him, who having moved to make room felt his cock twang free from his briefs to wedge itself under a seam. Having poured two mugs of tea she sat back and Martin looking in dismay at his bulging jeans once again felt the arm around his shoulder. It wasn't that he objected, since with the demise of his stepfather Frank they often showed affection for each other. It was just that under these circumstances he felt confused and would have far preferred a man to talk to than his mother. "Love, you must know I'm going to find this as tricky as you are..." she paused and blinked, her composure was already crumbling, "Oh god, I wish your father was here." "Yes." his mouth dry. Reaching up he took her hand. "Mum... say wot you think, I don't care wot it is." "You know I must have seen you this afternoon when you were asleep," having finally said it, she cleared her throat, "and, and what you had obviously been doing." "Mmmh.." mortified he looked at the floor, "then you did see...you saw.. oh.." "Everything." she squeezed him. "I saw today, I saw you're quite a young man now so... so.. shall we talk, like adults then?" "I suppose." he swallowed hard. This was awful. It had all been on display, five hard inches of boyhood and cum stained briefs. Why didn't he have his father. "See, love... I don't really want to know what you do in private in your bedroom.." "Wot?" he stuttered rather surprised. "You don't?" "No, not really. Just so as you come to no harm and," she held him, "and as long as I can keep up with the washing!" Amazed at the comment he looked up and saw her smiling. She always had a sense of humour, this time it certainly broke the ice. "Mum!" "Listen, as we're talking like adults you mustn't forget that I have been married, so I do know a little of what men want, do and will do." That was the last thing he was expecting to hear, he made to interrupt and was ignored. "No, no, Martin let me finish, while I can. This isn't easy for me, it's a fathers job." "Mum.. I know.. I know." he almost sounded guilty that she was having to talk to him. "Anyway, this might help you to understand why I'm not screaming and shouting at you." "Oh, why?" asked Martin slowly, whatever revelation was coming next. "You know uncle Roger is my younger brother don't you?" "Yer, he's a laugh." Martin nodded. "Well when Roger was nearly your age he had the room next to me." she suddenly smiled and shook her head almost laughing. "Wot is it mum?" Martin was getting confused, just where was this heading and what was so funny. "I'm sorry love," she squeezed him, "I didn't mean to laugh but it's funny now. But, it was very awkward for me at the time. I remember dad had a word with him." "Wot was? Mum wot you on about?" Martin was mystified, now this really wasn't making any sense at all. "Well the walls in that house were so thin that it didn't take much of a guess to know what was happening in Roger's bedroom from the moment he got home from school!" "Oh fffffuu...oh my god!" as though a switch had been thrown Martin turned bright red. "Wot.. mum.. so you can hear..." "No, no, love I can't," she hugged him again, "I'm just making the point in my own funny way that my parents made to me, sex isn't dirty it's natural. And, I'm guessing at your age, like Roger it's a big part of growing up." Martin visibly winced. They sat there in silence for a few seconds until finally he could resist no longer. "Mum, so wot did your dad say to him?" "I don't remember really, something about him being a lot quieter as it wasn't right that his sister should be subjected to certain sounds!" "Oh. I can see that." Martin blushed again, quite unable to contemplate every creak of the bed being overheard by an older sister. "Now love let's be serious, would it help," she said releasing him and straighten herself up on the sofa. "I mean, I wonder would it help, if, if you had a chat with Roger? I'm sure he would, in fact I think he'd love to be a sort of surrogate father, he always wanted two boys and instead got two girls!" "I dunno, I never thought about it like that.. uumm.." Definite food for thought indeed. At his age Martin was badly missing a father figure and after all it did sound as though Roger would easily understand Martin's preoccupation with sex. And, then there was the question of other boys, but would he ever be brave enough to mention that aspect of his growing pains to him? "Well, I couldn't think of anybody nicer so you have a think about it. Now I must get the tea." she started to get up. "Oh, but there is one more very important thing." "Wot's that?" "Will you promise me that you won't get some girl in trouble or anything like that?" Wiping the back of his hand across his face Martin smiled broadly, "No mum I won't get no girls in trouble. I promise." "Good, now," she leant forward and kissed him on the top of his head, "just remember you're going to have to change those sheets at the weekend!" "Oh mum!" Trudging home Nigel's mood was as grey as the clouds above. Jesting about going home was one thing, but the truth was that he had been dreading having to face his mother, no matter how effective the Tizer was in disguising his uniform. Knowing deep down that his appearance would probably be enough to turn her apoplectic he prayed it wouldn't to too awful a homecoming. Unaware of the loving response that Martin had received, Nigel would never have imagined in month of Sundays experiencing anything remotely similar from either his busy mother or hands-off father. The nearest he had got to a meaningful adult discussion of his own emotions had been to admit to Art's father that his own paternal relationships had latterly never been little more than aspirations. With about four hundred yards to go to the turning into in his road he began to drag his heels in the mistaken hope of averting the confrontation. However, just before the turning his nerve failed and he stopped altogether under an overhanging bush as large spots of rain began to slowly fall. Staring up at the up at the darkening sky he wondered if there was a god at all and if so, why wasn't he helping him in his very desperate hour of need! It was only a few seconds later he got his reply. Had he been a regular church goer he might even have thought that his prayers had really been answered! With no warning an ear splitting peal of thunder rang out, heralding a tremendous bolt of lightening which crackled across the leaden sky giving a blueish tinge to the failing afternoon light. Somewhat apprehensive by the obvious intensity of the oncoming storm he cowered under the bush before realising that it was quite safe to look up again at the ever darkening sky. Maybe there was a god and his prayers were in the process of being answered as the heavens literally opened to produce a cloud bust the like of which he had never seen. Within seconds the pavements and gutters had turned into small rivers, the rain fell in sheets and all to soon penetrated the foliage of his shelter. Now wet, it finally occurred to him that this was his release. Almost crying with joy he picked up his school bag and ran out to stand in the downpour as the thunder and lightening rolled around in the sky. Absolutely soaked to the skin, dancing down the deserted street he made his way home, pausing every so often to ensure he was as wet as he could possibly get! Arriving home looking akin to a drowned rat, his mother unaware of the previous calamities that had befallen his uniform immediately sent him up to change. Soon the clothes were in the laundry basket and Nigel sent off for hot bath! Naturally though, for Nigel no bath would be complete without the obligatory bout of self-abuse even if he had cum three times that afternoon already! And then there was Ian, having to face up to the ultimate ignominy of being caught by his mother having just cum in his underpants, notionally his as they actually belonged to Art! Desperately worried about just how he was going to face her prim and proper ways, it seemed ironic that with the thunder and lightening going on outside maybe it was an apt time to put in an appearance! There were though, two points upon which Ian had firmly made up his mind that he was not going to concede. First, somehow he had to get the message across that like other boys he did masturbate and it wasn't such a dreadful sin. Secondly, purely for his own enjoyment with his new found fetish he had decided he was again going to wear the disgusting briefs! To his great surprise, his arrival in the kitchen was greeted by a totally neutral response by his mother. Nothing was really said at all other than some comments about the terrible storm and how much the garden needed the rain! Surely, he thought to himself she must have some comment, however small on what she had caught him doing in his room. The only conversation was about the James Bond paperback which she had borrowed, so concluding it was rather pointless trying to raise the main subject himself, he returned to his bedroom with the book. Lying on the bed, he flipped though the book and he was soon engrossed in the second chapter when a firm knock on the door broke his concentration. "Hello." Lost in the world of James Bond the relevance of the firm knock was initially lost and only on seeing his father cautiously enter did it take on any meaning. "What's that then?" Nevil smiled and gestured towards the book. "Oh, James Bond," Ian said putting the book on the bed beside him, "mum borrowed it for me." "Somebody at her work, I suppose." "I think so." he replied sounding very cheerful. Then to Nevil's surprise he indicated the side of the bed. "You, gonna sit down dad?" "Uumm, yes." Nevil was slightly thrown at Ian's relaxed attitude when it was perfectly obvious to both of them why he had appeared. Ian, bolstered by his new found independence slid over on the bed to make room, enjoying the feeling of the briefs sticking to him under his jeans and the fact his father knew nothing of them! "Mum thought I ought to have another, uummm, chat with you." "Oh, I see. Another?" he smiled innocently. Determined to assert the fact he was no longer a child, Ian had mentally prepared himself for the occasion. Nevil though, having previously avoided all such father and son talks was plainly finding it far more awkward that Ian and beginning to wish he had broached the subject a couple of years earlier! "Yes, she said that she had, you had, uumm.." he paused. "She had seen that I had just had a wank!" Ian felt dreadfully embarrassed saying it like that to his father, but on the other hand it seemed the only way to open the conversation. Strangely enough in another sense he found it quite exciting. "Dad, I'm fifteen.. all boys do it, a lot!" "Yes, I know," Nevil looked flushed, "I suppose so." "And dad," unable to quite look him in the face he delivered the coup de gras. "dad, I mean, well didn't you?" "Well uumm, of course." now Nevil looked even more flushed. "But, your mother she doesn't understand these things, she doesn't have brothers or anything." "I know that dad, but can't you explain it a bit to her? Like, it's wot boys do isn't it? You know that don't you?" Ian was amazing himself at his own assertiveness. "It's not dirty or anything is it?" "No, no, not that. But," Nevil was beginning to feel he was the guilty party, definitely time for him to grasp the nettle, "but, she did say she was very surprised that you were dressed in what looked like some very uumm, how can I say.. very stained black underpants and she wondered where they came from?" "Ah.." Ian had been stopped dead in his tracks as the look of embarrassment proved. "What was that all about then?" Inside the sticky briefs Ian's semi-erect cock began to wilt. Nevil had played the trump card. It was to be fair, something he hadn't intended to mention. However, underhand as it was, it seemed the only way to get back on top. Clearing his throat Ian racked his brain for a plausible excuse. "Somebody... they uumm, they.. mixed up our clothes while we was in the gym and," he tried to look convincing, "there was no time to sort it all out, so we wore what was about." "Strange thing to do." Nevil looked puzzled. "So who's clothes were you wearing then?" "I think they're Art's.." he looked over to the corner. "See, the trousers over there?" "Oh yes, I see." Nevil scratched his head, "So are you still wearing this boy Art's underpants then?" Ian cringed and momentarily closed his eyes only to then feel a firm hand on his leg. "Ian, listen." some of his own memories rekindled, Nevil was finally in father mode. "I don't want to labour this, but it seems as though you have enjoyed wearing them. So don't you think we ought to at least give them back clean?" "Sorry dad, I didn't mean to talk like that..." he slowly and looked up. "It's OK." Ian nodded in acknowledgement. "And the washing? I think you should." "Yes." he smiled weakly. Not daring to admit how much Art would have appreciated the multitude of new stains, "You're right." "Now, I know we don't talk much and it's my fault, we should." Nevil stood up and put a hand on his shoulder, "Even I can remember that fifteen was a very confusing age, so if have any problems you come and we'll talk, mum wouldn't have to know." "She wouldn't?" Ian smiled, more than pleased that at last he had a real father, putting his hand up he touched the hand on his shoulder. "Talk about anything you want." "Dad, but wot about mum and these clothes and that?" "Tricky!" he smiled. "I'll have to try and talk to her and at least tell her to go easy on comments about the washing!" "Dad!" Ian blushed. "Now," he walked towards the door, "now get changed and bring all that dirty stuff down for a wash." "Will it be ready for tomorrow?" "I don't know, doubt it. Anyway you've got other clothes and your friend Art must have other stuff as well." Friday dawned, bright and clear. The air felt fresher thanks to the thunderstorm. Far, far fresher in fact, than the clothes which Art wore that sunny morning. Unaware of the finer points of the mysterious ritual of the laundry, he was under the misapprehension that the clothes he had swopped with Ian would be returned to him in pristine condition that very morning. Consequently, he had worn the Wolsey briefs all night, during which time they had been further impregnated with two loads of spunk and acquired a few stains from where he wiped his exploratory anal digit. Disappointed at not having miraculously lost any weight overnight, he found the trousers still didn't stand much chance of fastening. A belt was called for and after much rummaging around an ancient striped elasticated belt with an "S" clasp. It had been last used when he was about nine, but despite being very overstretched it was the only option and pressed into service. So long as the blazer was fastened to conceal the gap where the top of the fly didn't meet and his grubby shirt tucked in to hide the Wolsey briefs he didn't think it looked too bad. Ignoring the trousers being a good inch too long he buttoned up the blazer and put a hand in the trouser pocket aiming to untangled his half erect cock from the sagging briefs only to be rewarded by finding a hole in the lining. His finger was soon rubbing the end of his cock through the hole which gave unfettered access to the inside the briefs, smiling to himself he set off downstairs for breakfast thinking that Ian could have been doing the self same thing only hours before. Quite how he had evaded maternal persecution at teatime the previous evening after covering his jeans in spunk he wasn't quite sure. Having noticed and immediately guessed what the stain adorning the front of Art's jeans probably was, Ted was faced with a dilemma. Should he admonish Art and reignite the internecine warfare or as relations between Art and his mother were currently quite amicable opt to keep the peace. He chose to gamble and try to keep Art out of sight of the matriarchal gaze something that could prove tricky, especially with Simon who saw the whole thing as a big joke and a running joke at that. Taking a chance on that option meant having a few very sharp words in Art's ear, very sharp words indeed. There was no hint of humour in his threat of instant castration and being handed over to his mother should Art ever, ever even consider appearing in public like it again, the point was well and truly made. All that though was the previous evening and today was another day. Late as ever he arrived in the kitchen wearing his blazer fully buttoned up which immediately drew enquiring looks from Simon and his mother. On seeing the expression on his face, Simon quickly realised that discretion was the better part of valour and best not to crack any jokes about his appearance or the aroma which seemed to pervade Art's movements. Amazingly, Linda didn't pick up on the delicate hint of unwashed teenage genitalia and congealing cum which combined with the horrors contained with the disgusting briefs made it quite memorable. As he bumbled around the kitchen it was pretty evident that some highly improbable plan was in the process of being hatched inside Art's rather shambolic, sexually charged teenage world. That remote world to which all boys subscribed where they could easily retreat from the realities of life at home or school. From the previous afternoon's events Simon had a fairly good idea what it would be about, although not knowing about the belt had been amused to think of the trousers constantly descending at school. Linda was rather mystified, she couldn't quite put a finger on neither his actions nor appearance and with time running out didn't want to begin asking questions in front of Simon. It was only when Art had gathered up his school bag and headed out the door with Simon in tow to get the bus did she realise that it was the trousers that had been nagging her. They didn't look right. For one thing they almost had a crease in them and they suddenly appeared to have got longer in the leg. Martin hadn't been able to stop thinking about the pleasures of Nigel's flesh since the previous afternoon and had been waiting excitedly just inside the school gates for his arrival. Such thoughts naturally caused an erection which seemed in danger of becoming permanent with his fertile mind consumed by fantasy leaving the swollen member little chance of subsiding. It certainly wasn't helped by the events of the previous evening when, unable to leave it alone he had slipped off to the bathroom to masturbate twice more during the evening. Then, just prior to falling into an exhausted sleep he made the discovery that by interlocking his fingers and forcing his cock through the gap adjacent to his thumbs it made quite a good substitute for a tight sphincter! With a lot of spittle for lube that made for the third dribble of spunk that evening on top of the days hectic activities. "Well, how d'you get on?" Martin rushed over to Nigel seconds after he had walked through the heavy iron gates. "Not very well." Nigel pulled a face and looked around at some of the other boys coming though the gates, many with hands in pockets after playing with themselves on the bus. Martin too had a hand in his pocket and all the signs of a tenting fly to match. "Come over yer." "Well, but did it work at all?" Martin followed him over to a low wall near the science block entrance. "The Tizer and that?" "Sort of.." "Wot d'you mean sort of?" "Well, it fuckin' poured with rain didn't it?" Nigel started to laugh unable to keep up the pretence any longer. "Like having a bath with me clothes on! I was fuckin' soaked, everything I had on was washed in the bleeding road!" "Bloody hell! I `spose you're right, it was a hell of a storm. You were out in that?" "Yeah, made sure I got soaked! We could have drunk the fuckin' Tizer!" "Fuck the fuckin' Tizer!" Martin paused, he had to restrain himself from grabbing Nigel in public, his voice dropped to a whisper. "It's you, I wanna fuck you again!" "Wouldn't mind." Almost fully erect, Nigel knew it had started getting aroused on seeing the bulge Martin was unsuccessfully trying to hide. Glancing around to see who was looking he elbowing Martin to draw his attention to his own predicament provocatively pushing his straining fly towards him. "Oh shit! You as well?" Martin drew a deep breath. "When?" "Bloody right and bloody soon! And, I know somebody who'd just fuckin' love to get up your tight little ass! We could do a threesome!" "Art?" Martin grinned. "How'd I know that?" "Probably `cause yer cocks are about the same size! Anyway, it ain't this weekend, `cause we got other important things on ain't we?" "We? Wot's mean?" Martin turned towards the wall and put both hands in his pockets in an attempt to manipulate his erection up so it wouldn't look so obvious, being short the bulge in his trousers looked out of proportion. "Looking at you I think we ought to have quick one in class sometime today!" Nigel grinned. "Sooner the better, or I'm gonna cum in me pants!" replied Martin already feeling the start of a wet spot. Wot's this weekend thing about then?" "Well you daft fucker, this is the weekend innit? It's all gonna be happening in the fuckin' shed on the allotment on Sunday afternoon with you with your little second form mates. You're our spy and you can't fuckin' get out of it!" Nigel clapped him on the shoulder. "Oh fucking hell!" Martin looked aghast. "How could I forget that!" "Too much wanking I `spect! Come on let's get in before the bell. Besides you're gonna have all your little mates to finger and fuck with ain't you? D'you know sometimes I could just fancy putting a finger up that Tom or Alex and wanking 'em off!" "It's wot I'm gonna do!" "Oi!" Turning they saw a rather breathless Art approaching up the path. "You're nearly fuckin' late." Nigel grinned. "Wot's up then?" "The fuckin' bus was held up at some fuckin' junction, some fuckin' accident or fuckin' something!" Art sounded as flustered as he looked. "So have you seen Ian?" "Beautifully put." Martin managed to keep a straight face. "Ian, no I ain't, not yet. Why?" asked Nigel as the bell began to ring. "Why's you all buttoned up then?" "Oh, fuck the bell!" replied Art. "Well he's got me fucking clothes ain't he?" "Wot?" replied Nigel unable to hear with the ringing in his ears. "Has he?" "Oh fuck, come on lets go in then and I`ll tell you." With Art beginning to give an expletive ridden, if not garbled explanation of why Ian had his clothes they began walking somewhat lethargically in towards the main hall and the rather otiose ritual of morning assembly. ########################################## Chap 77 to follow