Date: Wed, 03 Oct 2018 11:19:50 +0100
From: tom <amias09@fastmail.fm>
Subject: Bog off!

Bog off!

Authors note: All the usual caveats and dire warnings apply so you read
this at your peril. Naturally, no representation of any person, animal,
vegetable or mineral is intended, yet should you recognise yourself at some
point in the story in conjunction with any of the aforementioned just think
yourself very, very lucky to be included!

As ever all comments, ideas, suggestions, good bad or indifferent always
welcome and my apologies in advance for any typo's you may spot.

Tom
email: amias09@fastmail.fm



A sort of introduction – for those of you that have read my earlier epic
works, you will doubtless be familiar with the usual range of topics, style
and witticisms so the content of this new story will probably feel quite
familiar even if a little different!

Previously I have dealt with the trials and tribulations of those from the
middle class attending a typical English grammar school, so I for this
story I have tried to venture to the other side of the great
divide. Essentially I wanted to produce something that was hopefully witty,
could make the odd serious point and encompass a decidedly disparate
selection of hand-reared onanists culled from the least affluent, let alone
salubrious end of town.

The very nature of an author's license allows one to take liberties and
that is in essence what the pleasure in writing fiction is all about.

Enjoy, I hope!

Tom

====================================================================


Bog off!

Chapter 1 – Once upon a time

All the best stories start with once upon a time, so we shall not
disappoint.

So, our tale starts once upon a time long, long ago way back in the 1970's
where on a run down council housing estate somewhere in the South West of
England there lived the Twerks family with the third generation now living
in the same house.

During their time on the estate just about every member of the family had
attended the same local comprehensive school, a place where the dilapidated
school buildings and frazzled staff could do little to encourage much by
way of formal education. Yet in many other ways the school offered a wealth
of more worldly information where extra curricular modules were available
encompassing an array of specialist subjects. Available singularly or for
groups tuition ranged from car theft, burglary, pimping for beginners and
advanced unisex coitus interruptus for the oversexed adolescent the
foundation courses were freely available to all. The latter subject being
very popular with the more extrovert adolescent for there were no computers
to enlighten, only a few highly prized and heavily stained magazines. Other
than that sex education was left to the imagination which generally led to
something of the hands-on and messy variety, possibly aided by an
over-excited friend or conscripted sibling.

At the Twerks household, situate number thirteen Cockburn Rise the evening
was passing pretty much as usual with parents Wayne and Doreen verging on
the comatose slumped in front of a blaring television. Whilst in the
bedrooms above, to the noise of the television echoing through the floor
Kelvin and Jason would occupy themselves with whatever new method of
self-abuse they could dream up or had heard talked about at school.

And so it was. Well, until somewhere around half-past nine when an almighty
cash shook the house leaving Wayne and Doreen most definitely stirred, if
not badly shaken. Wayne slowly realised it had originated from Kelvin's
bedroom which was immediately above the living room, so with great
reluctance and considerable effort managed to wrest himself from the
comfort of the armchair and actually stand up. Peering through the fug of
tobacco smoke that permanently enveloped wife Doreen he saw she too was
staring up towards the ceiling and focused on the nicotine coloured
lampshade. Swinging from it's matching nicotine coloured cable it had
already begun to charge the atmosphere with a vast cloud of the
concentrated nicotine particles. Since they had taken over the house from
their chain smoking parents it stood to reason the dust had been collecting
on it for a long, long time and was going to comprehensively shower
everything when it was finally disturbed.

"Wot the bleedin' hell's going on up there now!" cried Wayne, flapping his
arms around in an effort to dispel the thick yellow cloud that was
beginning to settle and stick to the layer of Brylcreem covering his
hair. "Where's all this shit come from!"

"Well don't bleeding push it over me!" said Doreen flapping the dust cloud
back.

"Oh shit! Look at me hair!"

"Wayne, it's him again innit?" screeched Doreen above the television, she
brushed the yellow dust and fallen cigarette ash off her ample stomach onto
the ancient cat lying on the threadbare carpet below. Wayne's hair was of
little concern.

"Wotever's he bloody doing now?" Wayne shouted above the prattle coming
from the television. "Dirty little bugger he is!"

"Well you knows as well as I do wot he's bleeding doing up there," she took
a long drag on her cigarette, "dirty little sod, now yer his father so
yer's go and tell him!"

"Yeah, alright, just bloody shut up will yer! I's had enough of him wot
with this shit!"

Wayne, his muscles aching having had a very tiring day on the building site
moving planks around as a fully accredited scaffolder's labourer was having
some difficulty in moving at all. If he were honest he wasn't really
interested in what was happening above and would have preferred to simply
slurp back a couple more cans of lager.

"Wot?" shouted Doreen unable to hear his reply above the television. "Well
bloody get on with it then!"

"Wot d'yer say?" replied Wayne quite unable to hear anything above the
noise of the television.

"I told him he's gotta stop bleeding doing it!"

Doreen's words echoed behind Wayne. Narrowly missing standing on the full
ashtray placed strategically on the floor by his armchair he stumbled out
into hallway the cans of lager having taken effect. Partially deaf and
unable what she was saying he exited right still muttering to himself.

"Wot the fucks she on about now, don't she ever bleeding shut up! Wot with
her and them bleeding kids, I don't get five bleeding minutes to sit down!"

Wayne and Doreen had had a quadruple barrel shotgun wedding whilst in their
teens and yet by some miracle had remained together. Euphemistically
speaking, they had even managed to bring up the ensuing four boys in the
cramped three bedroom, terraced council house. Wisely the two elder
brothers had now left home, Asher having only just managed to get into the
army as a private, while his eighteen year old sibling Darren was being
currently cared for at one of Her Majesties hostelries for the wayward and
dishonest youth of the parish. That left the two younger brothers at home,
both being as mentally challenged as were their parents and older siblings,
the fact was that taken overall any real form of cerebral matter was
collectively or otherwise in very short supply.

With Kelvin now having just turned fifteen and Jason nearly thirteen the
brothers had really only one thing in common and that was something to be
had in almost literal bucket loads, testosterone and semen. In fact in
Kelvin's case there was so much was on tap that if it was not expended
several times a day, in addition to a routine night and morning release
then he was quite liable to ejaculate without warning. It wasn't just
starchy clothing that was the norm, it was anything in range and with such
an overactive libido multiple wet dreams even at fifteen were fairly
commonplace however embarrassing. In fact on Sunday mornings, between the
two brothers the bedroom floors appeared to harmonise in a form of
vibratory sexual resonance, especially when Kelvin's built towards his
third orgasm when even the windows might start to rattle.

It was a small house and with the four boys growing up Doreen had had to
endure years of adolescent juices being squirted over everything from the
threadbare carpets and curtains to the long suffering cat, which
historically Darren used to very regularly interfere with. Faced with
keeping Jason and Kelvin looking even vaguely presentable for school was
pretty much a lost battle, nevertheless with a mother's pride Doreen
attempted to stand her ground. Buying fashionable clothes in an effort to
make them to smarten themselves up from the rather majestically named
Guptha's International Warehouse was not so much one way, but the only way
of doing it, as did the majority of families on the estate. The local
comprehensive school knowing the financial constraints of many families did
not insist on an actual uniform, but only the semblance of it, so long as
something akin to a white shirt, a blazer and no jeans were worn.

Guptha's International, an emporium where the word International was key
since the stock consisted entirely of seconds, thirds or more likely
fourths from every second-rate clothing sweat shop in the third
world. Quality control was non-existent, size labels were incorrect, zips
invariably stuck, seams easily ripped apart and it was not unknown to find
school trousers with three legs. Irrespective of the fact that whether the
clothing styles were from the fifties or sixties and it was now the late
seventies, the byword for the unfashionably conscious Doreen was one word,
cheap. Cheap and now even cheaper, since latterly she had obtained a
part-time job at the very place so the entire family could be clothed in
outmoded style and all for the price of one pair of socks from
Woollies. Besides, Wayne couldn't care less what he looked liked and since
the boys didn't seem to notice they were given no choice!

Jason who was luckily in possession of three functioning brain cells
instead of the family regulation issue of two, looked surprisingly tidy in
his flared trousers, even if one leg was slightly longer than the other and
the pure nylon, gaudy purple socks rapidly made his feet smell. Kelvin
though was a league of his own, a lost cause having developed his sexual
excesses to the point of true excess, quite simply he was totally obsessed
with self-abuse. He had no conception that going to school with glistening
splodges on his trousers could possibly highlight the not inconsiderable
bulge and accompanying wet spot that marked his constantly oozing
foreskin. The sight of which, to some of the girls who attended the local
comprehensive school was certainly a very graphic turn on and the cause of
many a damp gusset! And, with Kelvin constantly readjusting matters the
appeal was certainly there although sadly his very distinctive aroma
coupled with a propensity to impart semen over anything he touched tended
to negate any real further progress with the female sex.

Taken overall it was really getting too much for Doreen to cope with and
she had almost reached the point of abandoning him to his sticky fate
although, all said with a mother's determination she hadn't quite given up
but instead had addressed the subject head on. She nagged him relentlessly
about being apprehended yet again ejaculating on the bus or how revolting
it was to have to deal with his dirty laundry, the ultimatum being unless
he improved once he turned sixteen and had left school her responsibilities
ended.

Kelvin having taken over what had been Asher's bedroom had inherited the
pine bed which had already seen a considerable amount of adolescent action
and was actually second hand when first bought anyway. Having had Asher
pounding away on it for several years the joints were no longer tight and
it squeaked, in fact very often it appeared to squeak all night or at least
that's what Jason in the adjoining bedroom had been listening out for since
he was ten. Once Asher had left for a life in the army, where he was
thankfully not required to think, it was Darren's turn as the elder brother
to take over the single bedroom. That in turn left Kelvin and Jason sharing
a room and to actively engage in the well known brotherly game of, listen
for the bed squeaks and deny they were never of course either of theirs!

That though was now all history for it was Kelvin who had moved into the
single bedroom safe in the knowledge that not even the cat would ever
willingly venture into such a darkened smelly place anyway. The overall
pervading aroma was of rotting feet, unwashed and oversexed teenager, none
of which were exactly helped by the sickly scent that the yellowing
mattress exuded. For in addition to Kelvin's contributions, it being the
original had been none too clean in the first place and had since received
thousands of nocturnal infusions along with Darren's unfortunate bed
wetting episodes. Kelvin though, didn't care about any of that since he now
had somewhere to continue his incessant nightly activities and no longer be
too bothered about leaving certain items around even if Jason was
occasionally caught snooping around the room for evidence. That wasn't of
course to say that Jason wasn't exactly a little angel himself, for his own
very grubby little digits were certainly not entirely innocent of internal
exploration either!

Not that Kelvin would ever notice he was in such a disgusting state, for
being in a permanent state of arousal he was liable to ejaculate with
little or no warning, just as he often did at school. The fact his hands
appeared fixed to the insides of his pockets obviously had no bearing on
the matter and to that end he was constantly searching for new exciting
ways to bring about the inevitable orgasm. Only after considerable
experimentation did he think he had finally found the perfect solution,
actually to be more precise he had found something in a skip! Simplicity
was the answer, so a very grubby Dunlopillo cushion from an old settee was
taken home and with great ingenuity converted into the ultimate unisex
orgasmic aid in the garden shed which also acted as workshop and a
relatively safe refuge for a hand relief.

By cutting a strategically placed hole in it with his blunt penknife and
then lying on top it would double, as he told himself rather simplistically
as either a girl's front hole or a boy's back hole depending on his fantasy
at the time. Usually though it was the boy's back hole since he regularly
explored his own anyway, besides for a shy and decidedly unhygienic
adolescent onanist it was an awful lot easier than attempting to arrange an
embarrassing fumbled liaison with a real live girl. That was assuming she
could even stand the smell and he would probably be far too embarrassed to
unzip his trousers anyway! Other than one very abortive attempt to explore
the female anatomy his knowledge of the subject was only what he had seen
in the torn, tatty, semen stained fragments of magazines that Darren had
left behind under the bed.

However, Kelvin's rubberised, enhanced sexual modus operandi was
breathtakingly simple. First place said artificial sponge rubber orifice on
top of stained bed clothes, expose the throbbing sticky member, feed into
hole, commence fantasising and hump away. Then, with lust sated the clever
design with the inherent built in disposal system ensured all seminal
deposits would be quickly absorbed by the texture of the cushion
itself. But that was theory for alas, in practice after a few weeks
continuous use the cushion was twice it's own weight with multitudinous
infusions of sperm so that it positively reeked and would ooze semen onto
all it touched.

On that fateful day as was usual for Kelvin, despite having ejaculated
several times into his underpants during the school day had managed it once
again on the short bus journey going home, luckily this time without being
caught. Looking forward to his gourmet tea of battered, pre-fabricated
chicken lumpy bits and crinkle cut chips smothered in an ocean of tomato
ketchup he walked from the bus stop with his soggy underpants sticking to
his pubic hairs. Unsurprisingly after such a day of constant penile
activity a respite was often required, so it was shortly before eight
o'clock on that prophetic evening that he began to prepare himself for the
exciting ritual to come.

In fact the main event was going to be considerably enhanced by the visual
pleasures of the damp and sticky pages of an old copy of Razzle which had
been lent to him by Dave, one of his classmates at school. Dragging the
cushion out from under the bed he dropped it on top of the heavily stained
candlewick bedspread with a satisfying squelch. Then, after groping around
under the mattress to locate his anal accoutrements in the form of two
short candles he was now prepared for some serious humping should the
stained pages of the magazine not sufficiently excite.

Unzipping his trousers they dropped slowly to the floor taking with them a
pair of Guptha's International finest imitation lime green Y-fronts replete
with orange banding and vast swathes of semi-dry semen. His cock
immediately twanged into view, a magnificent thick organ of well over six
inches in length with a very bulbous head, the all encompassing foreskin
containing the full spectrum of macrobiotic life which thrived on the ample
selection of aging soft cheeses maturing in the fetid darkness. Unable to
shake the cloying briefs off his left leg he climbed onto the bed with his
erection quivering in anticipation, slowly retracting the capacious
foreskin he wisely ignored white sticky bits and the accompanying
smell. Slowly, taking careful aim he lunged forward plunging himself into
the beckoning slit on the top of the cushion with a satisfying squelch
allowing that very morning's earlier cold and semi-congealed seminal
infusion acting as delightfully sexually perfumed lubricant.

Frantically turning the pages of the magazine before him he commenced
humping. He noted all sensation had been dramatically increased by the
initial retraction his foreskin so allowing the generously proportioned
purple head to thrust freely within the squidgy mix of fermenting semen and
decaying rubber particles. It was as he concluded on increasing his
gyrations to their absolute athletic maximum, probably the very best
rubberised shag he had had yet. Unaware that his exertions would eventually
bring an unscheduled paternal visitation he continued to work himself up
into such a frenzy that the whole bed was swaying in unison to his arching
back. That in turn put a considerable strain onto the wooden joints and
whilst he was oblivious to the violent squeaking noises, Jason in the
adjoining bedroom was most certainly not and by now with cock in hand had
put down his comic and listened out for any exciting extraneous noises.

Mentally exhausted after digesting the various cartoons in the Beano, Jason
had switched to his other main interest and had his jeans around his knees
with one hand pushed down the front his purple paisley pattern, early
seventies style imitation Y-fronts also as retailed by Guptha's
International. It had never taken much to get Jason aroused so the thought
of what his brother was now doing added to the excitement. Ideally he would
have liked to have just pulled his much abused four inches out through the
paisley patterned fly, but being Guptha's International quality clothing
meant that the fly had been sown up by mistake. That was something which
poor Jason had discovered to his cost when he first wore them to school and
was extremely desperate for a pee between lessons, his trousers though did
dry out before he got home.

All said, even for that amount of activity it was in effect just a fairly
typical evening in the Twerks household where the television thundered away
in the smoke filled living room whilst the two boys did their best to
masturbate themselves senseless in their bedrooms above.

However, on that fateful evening with Kelvin straining every muscle to give
his all, it should have been no great surprise when the footboard of the
bed parted company from the rest of the bed frame. There was a dreadful
splintering sound followed by a loud crash which shook the house as the end
of the bed frame complete with mattress and the still gyrating Kelvin hit
the floor. However, nothing was to stop Kelvin who was yet to ejaculate and
that included him continuing to hump while lying on the uphill slope since
the headboard was amazingly somehow still attached.

The crash happened with Jason having literally only just ejaculated in his
briefs, nevertheless he still managed to be the first on the scene
immediately rushing in hoping to find Kelvin in an embarrassing
situation. Holding his jeans up as he ran he arrived with his purple
paisley pants on display through the open fly and wiping his slimy fingers
onto the very grubby school shirt.

"Fuckin' hell!" exclaimed Jason, his erotic prayers answered on seeing
Kelvin's white, plump, very spotty bottom thrashing up and down on the
bed. "Oh fuckin' hell Kelv wot's yer fuckin' done now?"

Continuing to inwardly pulsate Kelvin wasn't listening, he was literally on
the cusp of what threatened to be his largest orgasm ever. In his blurred
mind he couldn't care less if Jason had seen his bottom for when previously
sharing the bedroom they had often inspected and fondled each others clammy
dangly bits and orifices.

"Fuck! Fuck! Oh fuck!" gasped Kelvin fixated by the dilated vaginal picture
in front him, which judging by the stains on the page was one of the
magazine's many reader's favourites.

Jason was hoping to witness what could be several night's worth of nearly
thirteen year old fantasies for it had been some months since he had last
seen Kelvin's cock in action. He wished if only Kelvin would roll over to
show just how big his cock had now grown and then let him witness the
actual moment of ejaculation.

"Fuck.. cor, oh fuck.. wot's that's yer on top of... come on Kelv let's
have a look!"

"Ooohhh fuck!" groaned Kelvin, his body beginning to violently
tremble. "Ooohhh..."

Jason thought it was really exciting and even though he had only ejaculated
barely a minute before, his hand had quickly passed through the special
bottomless pocket of his jeans. Having already forgotten his fly was wide
open the clammy fingers could be seen burrowing under the elastic of the
briefs to energetically work the foreskin over the head of his cock, not
for the first time he used the earlier discharge as lubricant.

"Kelv don't be fucking mean, show us yer cock when yer cums!"

"Wot the bleedin' hells going on!" somewhat theatrically Wayne burst into
the room, naturally with cigarette in hand and breathing smoke like an out
of breath fire breathing dragon. "Wot's all this fucking noise about!"

"He's bust his bed dad!" volunteered Jason helpfully just in case he hadn't
noticed.

"He bleeding wot!"

"He been looking at they gert tits in that dirty book!"

Wayne looked around in surprise then back down at Kelvin who staring at the
magazine was verging on ejaculation and unable to stop humping even if he
had wanted too, he continued to force himself into the squelchy cushion.

"The dirty little sod's wanking again!" it was an acute observation from
the father of four boys who in his own youth would have certainly out
performed Kelvin anyway.

"Wot's wanking?" squeaked Jason trying not to giggle, as yet unaware he was
about to compound his own embarrassment especially with his open fly.

"Wot's wanking?" echoed Wayne, his mood softening, he looked at Jason, ash
fell to the floor, it was time for a bit of fun. "Wot's wanking?"

Along with illiteracy, wanking ran high in the Twerks family dynasty. Wayne
who knew more about wanking than any of them flushed as he recalled his own
youth, positively awash with semen thinking he could have wanked for
England. Plainly, Kelvin still had some way to go if was to be a serious
competitor in the family wanking stakes, but was evidently taking his
practice very seriously!

From the corner of his eye Wayne had noticed Jason leaning against the wall
in a familiar stance, he smiled to himself thinking that the giggling Jason
was about to be hoist by his very own petard, not that Wayne would or could
ever have used that particular expression. For Jason, standing with legs a
little apart and leaning slightly forward with a hand deep in his trouser
pocket it was an all too familiar position and instantly recognised by
Wayne as generally adopted when in need of hand relief, typically in the
playground or whilst waiting for a bus.

"Wanking, Jase yer don't know?" Wayne grinned as he pointed to the open fly
and rapidly moving arm which emerged from the torn pocket lining and then
disappeared under the elasticated side of the paisley briefs. "Then wot yer
doing now then?"

"Oh shit... me zip!"

Jason turned a brilliant shade of red and was about to make a dash for the
door just as Kelvin seemed to reach heights of ejaculation, the pull was
too strong and though very embarrassed he just had to stay and
watch. Moaning in a state of total ecstasy, Kelvin appeared to lift himself
into the air and then return with an enormous thud to fall back on the
steeply sloping bed. It was no real surprise to see that the shock snapped
one of the side members allowing him to roll very unceremonially off the
mattress and onto the floor, his jerking cock spraying semen all around as
he fell.

"Jesus, Kelv, yer got a bloody gert big `un ain't yer!" exclaimed Wayne
without thinking twice on being confronted with Kelvin's throbbing,
spitting appendage.

"Fuck! Fuck! No.. don't fucking look! No!" cried Kelvin, horrified that his
father was taking such an interest in his cock, he unsuccessfully tried to
cover himself with his hands but succeeded in only covering everything with
semen instead.

"It's alright, I'm yer dad, I only wants a bloody peep at it!" Wayne bent
down to take a closer look yet not really sure if he should be doing that
at it at all, nevertheless he was very intrigued to see just what his son
had. "Gawd, yer'll a lucky boy, that's a gert big `un innit! Yer'll be
making some babies with that gert thing won't yer!"

With his hand still in his bottomless pocket, the bright red Jason had
sidled over for a closer look and found he couldn't take his eyes off it
either, finally he knelt down by his father wondering if when he was
fifteen he too would have such a weapon.

It was though Wayne who was about to really stun both the boys. Being
probably one of the most hands-off father's around he suddenly did a most
uncharacteristic and very surprising Wayne type thing. He put one hand on
Kelvin's shoulder and then grabbed at Jason's hot spunky hand with his
other.

"D'yer knows yer two's me favourite little wankers!"

"Yer wot?"

Kelvin sounded dazed, it was an event unheard of in the Twerks manual of
paternal bonding, for bonding just didn't happen. Used to his mother
showing some emotion despite her constant nagging, he just couldn't recall
the last time his father seemed remotely father like and genuinely didn't
know what to do or say.

Jason was equally confused and looked blankly around not at all sure how to
respond since the boys were far more used to being told to piss off, get
another can of lager or find some more cigarettes! Jason's answer was to do
something equally unheard of, he stood up, put his arms around Wayne's neck
and kissed him, then immediately ran back to his own room not really sure
what he had done, his jeans finally falling around his ankles as
disappeared down the landing.

"Dad..." mumbled Kelvin and then dried up for even on a good day he would
not have known what to say either, instead he dragged a corner of a sheet
over to cover his now sagging cock.

"Wot a silly little bugger he is, getting all bleeding sloppy like that!"
having now thoroughly confused himself Wayne blinked and purposely looked
away from Kelvin towards Jason's bedroom. "Oh shit!"

"Dad.."

Kelvin's voice almost cracked, he was still stuck for words. He rubbed his
eyes, what was happening to him? What was happening to his father, was he
finally becoming the father that he had heard some of the other boys at
school had? Would he be actually doing father like things with them as
others did?

"Look I don't want yer getting all bloody sloppy neither, so, so.. don't
yer bleeding start crying or nothing like that stuff... `cause.. well
'cause yer've made enough bleeding mess as it is!" Wayne faltered, the
situation was new and beyond him, he continued to blink. "Oh.. sorry kid, I
don't know wot the fucks happened tonight... uumm.. wot with saying all
that stuff and that.. uumm.. oh fuck!"

"It don't matter dad," Kelvin reached over with an even spunkier hand than
Jason had and took his fathers hand, "`cause we knows that yer,
uumm.. uumm... well loves us and, and we knows we're little sods, but.."

"Right, well yer've said it yerself, so now just bloody shut up and, and,"
he paused and started again trying sound in command, "and uumm, look yer go
and sleep in with Jase tonight in that spare bed and we'll sort all this
shit out tomorrow, right?"

"Right," it was easier to agree than try to voice his feelings, "so's wot
about mum?"

"Don't worry about her, she's always shouting about something anyway's
ain't she?"

"I `spose, yeah. Yer gonna tell about this?" he looked at the broken
bed. "And me..."

"She's cleaned up yer spunk since you was eleven so I don't think she wants
to knows nothing more about yer wanking do she?" he suddenly grinned. "Hey,
yer knows I was just like yer is don't yer, I couldn't leave it alone nor
could me brother!"

"Oh! No, no's I didn't." Kelvin blushed, somehow it didn't seem right for
his father to be telling him that. "Wot d'yer means uncle Craig?"

"Yeah, us was always at it! Anyway's, I `spect if yer gonna be sharing with
that randy little sod tonight he'll have yer doing it later with him won't
he? So just don't break any more bloody beds and keep the bleeding noise
down when yer do!"

"Dad..."

"Yeah, alright, now just don't bleeding well keep going on about it, `cause
I knows I'm a real shit father and don't do nothing, but I, I.." for a
moment he paused and looking rather distracted he finally managed to
smile. "so, so... tidy up this spunky mess up then if she do come up at
least she won't bloody stick to nothing!"

Leaving Kelvin clutching his shrinking organ under the stained sheet and
wondering what had happened to his father, Wayne returned to the smoke
filled living room.

"D'yer sort the little buggers out then?" shouted Doreen above the
television. "It's that Kelvin, he been wanking again ain't he, I knows he
is! He don't never stop!"

Composing himself, Wayne nodded and headed for the television wanting to
turn the volume down. "Now I can hear yer, so's wot d'yer just say?"

"I said, it were that Kelvin at it again wunnit?" repeated Doreen at much
the same volume having been temporarily deafened by the noise.

"Yeah, he do it all the time and his bed just fell to bits, it were old
though wunnit?"

"Was he at it again then?"

"Wot's mean?" asked Wayne mischievously knowing full well what she meant.

"Yer knows." she made a certain gesture with her forefinger and thumb.

"Oh him wanking? Well, yeah, he do it all the bleeding time don't he?"

"Well course he bloody does! Well they both bloody do don't they! Don't yer
know sod all about yer own kids! That bloody Jase is nearly as bad, his
bloody sticky stuffs everywhere's!" she looked at him and paused. "Yer a
bugger ain't yer, yer just bloody winding me up ain't yer?"

"Little bit!" he grinned. "Anyhow he's gonna sleep in with Jase tonight,
I'll have to sort the bleeding bed out tomorrow after work. Wonder if I can
nick some bits of scaffold and make him a bed he can't break!"

"Oh God, so they's in together tonight, then nobody'll get any sleep then,
`cause they'll both be at it all bloody night won't 'em!"

"`spose so, but if they're at it, then they's won't hear us will they?"

Wayne had become fully aroused by the thought of his boys carrying on just
as he had when he was their age. Unashamedly he pushed his hand down the
front of his jeans to feel the hardening eight inches destined for Doreen
and it wasn't even Friday night!

"Ooh Wayne!" her eyes lit up.

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

Chapter 2 to follow