Date: Wed, 14 Aug 2019 18:39:35 +0100
From: tom <amias09@fastmail.fm>
Subject: Bog Off- Chapter 23

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



>>>>> Health Warning: I feel obliged to point out that under no
circumstances can this story be described as subtle, it is written very
much tongue in cheek and relies on humour, if not decidedly black humour
for it to deliver - so beware, some situations and characters will
undoubtedly appear quite gross!

Ergo, should you desire something of a far more erudite and sophisticated
nature, I can but recommend my highly acclaimed "Brief Encounters" and "The
Lab Technician" series.
___________________________________________________________________

Chapter 23 – Caught in the act

What a weekend it had turned out to be, satisfaction on all fronts. Well
almost!

Neither Bogbrush nor Joel had been disappointed with the unique experience
that only Byron could offer, in fact they had the close combat injuries to
prove it. In Joel's case a twisted leg and a raw cock, whereas Bogbrush had
courtesy of Byron both foreskin and anus full of quick setting cement
dust. And, having limped home utterly soaked, dishevelled and totally
ingrained with cement dust it was only to be expected that their respective
mother's quickly became cataclysmic about, whatever doting mothers became
cataclysmic about.

However on the plus side, someone who had had a satisfying weekend was
Farty who with more than a little encouragement from his sister Cilla had
partaken of the cardinal sin. With their father mending a friend's car and
their mother out shopping, Cilla had forced Farty into her bedroom and
subsequently onto her bed with the sole object of taking their mutual
masturbation to the next logical level. Not that in truth much had
happened, other than she being so excited at the idea she had fingered
herself for far too long and was more than somewhat wet and gooey. Sadly,
Farty having very recently ejaculated in the toilet had great difficulty in
persuading his minimum length appendage become erect again. And, even when
it did, he didn't actually get much of it inserted due to a penile shortage
of about an inch and the combined girth of their podgy stomachs. Still,
never to look a gift horse in the mouth or his thirteen year old sister in
the fanny, when all things were considered Farty was no longer technically
a virgin even if it were by way of incest and not properly consummated. The
hope was all that was to remain as a secret, although whether the sex
craved Cilla could contain such a revelation for long was another matter.

Elsewhere on the debit side of things, for one particular person the future
did not bode particularly well. A ghost from the past had appeared to
darken his doorway or to be more apt, darken a historical tent-flap
opening. It had been well over twenty years since Jack Wilson had left the
boy scouts as a patrol leader. The decision was due primarily to the
increasing attention of the older troupe leader who was taking full
advantage of the fact that he knew Wilson wanted to share his tent with two
particular boys. One of those boys was Clive Tomlinson, a very precocious
middle class eleven year old who was a keen and extremely willing student
in the art of masturbation. Amongst his other endearing talents he had
become particularly adept at slipping a hand up the leg of Wilson's shorts
as they sat round the evening campfire. Now turned thirty, Tomlinson had
secured a post at the local grammar school teaching history and being
unaware of Wilson's existence in the area was equally surprised to meet him
in the supermarket carpark that Saturday morning.

Once through the long lost friend routine, albeit more from a very
enthusiastic Tomlinson than a wary Wilson, it became rapidly apparent that
Tomlinson was very much the active homosexual. He assumed quite correctly
that due to their past secrets Wilson would still have an interest in
schoolboys and consequently talked freely of his many conquests, concluding
their meeting by propositioning Wilson for a father and son reunion!

Rather shocked that his past interest in boys were still that discernible
and obviously being viewed by Tomlinson as very much extant, Wilson was
thrown into a state of mild panic. Even though he had specifically not
mentioned his recent skirmishes with the boys at the school he looked
guilty, felt guilty and knew he was guilty of wanting the boys not just
voyeuristically, but physically. Back in his days when camping with the
scouts his particular delight was to be buggered by the two younger boys in
turn when all were tucked up in his sleeping bag. Just in fact, as he had
recently begun having similar fantasies of being tucked up with Kelvin,
Bogbrush, Luke and Connor.

It was undoubtedly an awkward if very arousing encounter, for Tomlinson
still held an attraction being a very young looking thirty year old with,
just as when a boy a habit of constantly playing with his not over large
equipment. Meagre it may have been, but as Wilson recalled it could produce
semen all day long if required and even back then Tomlinson had developed a
truly erotic party piece. When out and about with Wilson around the wooded
camp he would frequently ejaculate into his white briefs, being at the time
de rigueur underwear for all men and boys, then manage to conspire to run a
hand down the back of Wilson's shorts to insert a finger wet with warm
semen deep inside and all without being seen.

With memories like that to draw on both were understandably fully
erect. Wilson wishing to escape made up an excuse he was late to meet his
wife, whereas a disappointed Tomlinson blatantly stated he was off to
masturbate in his car in lieu of enticing Wilson back to his flat. So,
clutching at the crumpled supermarket receipt with Tomlinson's telephone
number scribbled on it, Wilson set off home for a weekend of worry and
temptation. In truth he already knew that temptation had won, the real
question being who would be the first to reawaken that special feeling of
being filled with cock, Tomlinson or one of the boys?

Yet another Monday morning dawned. The pupils and staff each with their own
thoughts were reluctantly returning to the rundown school for another week
of discovery or depending on the viewpoint, absolute purgatory.

The pupils of class 2E were no different to any other and headed off
noisily, unenthusiastically towards what would invariably turn out to be an
exceptionally stultifying history lesson. Their departure from the school
hall was unusually rapid and certainly not based on being keen to get to
the lesson, more that it had been hastened by a not altogether singular
event as the comments confirmed.

"Oi, Farty yer a dirty sod, yer's fucking dropped another gert big `un back
then didn't yer?"

"It's like bleeding poison gas, wot d'yer eat for breakfast, they fucking
beans again?"

"Fucking, sodding piss off!"

Embarrassed, his sphincter still burning, Farty scurried out of the hall
and down the corridor to sounds of a further flatulent explosions hopefully
disguised under a bout of faux coughing. Behind, he left a scene of utter
devastation with several first year boys lying on their backs, legs in the
air gasping for oxygen, the truly awful smell having taken hold. In no
uncertain terms, as he had been told many, many times before his current
diet of baked beans was wreaking havoc with the social niceties of school
life and if he didn't do something about it then maybe other would.

"Jase, I gotta talk with yer." said Farty catching him by the arm.

"Gor, fucking hell Farty yer's just dropped another one ain't yer?" Jason
was holding his nose, paint started to peel from the walls as they walked
briskly away hoping to avoid the poisonous cloud of gas.

"Bet yer burnt a hole in yer pants with that one!" Billie was gasping for
oxygen.

"Fucking shut up, now listen.." said the embarrassed Farty.

"Why don't yer fart proper, then us'll hear yer and get a warning!"
suggested Brett.

"Shut up, listen our Cilla says," Farty looked back to the scene of the
disaster where luckily some boys were still alive if struggling for breath,
"she says that she wants to get on with it... soon, this week, he's gotta
find some place where's safe to do it."

"Wot? Who? Do wot?" the lack of oxygen had seriously affecting Jason's
limited powers of comprehension. "Oh wot? Ah, oh, course her and Kelv is
gonna do something together ain't `em?"

"Sssshhhh... keep yer bleeding voice down, it's a secret don't fucking say
nothing!"

"Oh, yeah alright I's tell him later then."

Later, it transpired was during the mid-morning break. Jason caught up with
Kelvin and Bogbrush, huddled together and enjoying another sensual
retelling of the arousing events and sticky happenings in Byron's shed.

"Thing is," whispered Bogbrush, "me willy's still got that fucking cement
stuff stuck round the end, it won't bleeding wash off."

"That why's yer limping a bit then?"

"Nah, no, that's `cause me bumhole ain't felt the same since that Dipstick
had his bleeding gert willy up it."

"Oh.. wish I'd fucking seen it all, I should have come along like yer
said." Kelvin paused to imagine the scene and immediately started playing
with himself. Again.

"Yeah and, and don't yer dare say nothing about it will yer, `cause see,"
Bogbrush was down to a whisper, it was serious stuff, "see when I's get's
home all wet and that, well our mum goes fucking nuts, course I's fucking
knew she would and then and..."

"Yeah, they's really fucking does go nuts don't `em?" interrupted
Kelvin. "Dunno why they gets so fucking excited, d'yer know?"

"No's I don't, now just bleeding shut up and listen," continued Bogbrush,
"anyhow see, when I's escapes from her and I get's in me room I's can tell
Dipstick's cum has leaked out of me bum `cause I's could feel it going down
me legs when she were going on at I! And, and it's all over they old white
pants I had on and, and there's some fucking gert lumps of cement in it!"

"Fuck, yer still got 'em, I's love to see they!"

"Yer can fucking have 'em if yer wants!"

"Ooh fuck yeah! So wot d'yer think, will it'll concrete up yer bumhole?"
Kelvin's hand continued unabated, his brain though was bereft of any other
logical thought so he repeated it. "So d'yer think it could block up yer
hole so, so yer couldn't have a shit? Yer'd fucking bum might explode! Cor,
bleeding hell, that'd be dangerous wunnit!"

"Oi, Kelv!" Jason's voice interrupted the conversation.

"Oh, who's that?" Bogbrush looked round. "Oh hell!"

"Bleeding Jase innit, wot's yer fucking want?" Kelvin was rather
disappointed that the subject of Bogbrush's concrete orifice could not be
pursued further.

"I's been looking for yer."

"Fucking hurray! So now yer's found us so wot's bleeding want then?"

"Message from Farty." Jason looked quite out of breath, exercise or the
lack of it ran in the family.

"Oh... oh him?" Kelvin suddenly looked interested. "Well fucking get on
with it then!"

"He says to tell yer that Cilla wants to do it really soon like."

"Do wot with him?" Bogbrush grinned, his mind taken off having a concrete
anus.

Like throwing a switch, both of Kelvin's hands were now fully engaged, one
through the pocketless pocket and the other through the semen stained
pocket lining. The result was pretty well instantaneous, the front of his
trousers were filled to bursting and a wet spot magically appeared on the
front of his Guptha's International green paisley with contrasting red
trim, briefs.

"Yer wanking!" accused Jason.

"Nah, I's just getting ready," Kelvin laughed, knowing he would certainly
be doing it in the next lesson, "ain't got time now `cause the bleeding
bells gonna go innit?"

Bogbrush nodded, he too was looking forward to the next lesson, it was
woodwork. "Ain't yer wanking in yer next lesson then? Yer could join us and
I's do it for yer!"

"Uumm..." Jason blushed, he would have loved to sat next to Bogbrush and
explored his trousers just as he often did with Billie.

"Dirty little fucker, yer is ain't yer?" Bogbrush laughed, Jason tried to
look away.

"Oi Jase yer tosser, yer can tell Farty, Fatty, fucker wotever his bleeding
name is that I's all ready for her and I's trying to find some place to do
it.. yer got that?"

"Yeah, alright and.. " the rest of Jason's reply was drowned by the lesson
bell.

"Good, now fuck off!"

"Where yer gonna do it with her then?" asked Bogbrush. "In yer shed?"

"I dunno, see she's such a little cow I's really wants somewhere where's I
could just piss off like, if she gets all bleeding iffy like." the wet spot
was getting bigger.

"Wot about that shed that Dipstick uses, that'll be alright wunnit?"

"Yeah, that would do wunnit?" very excited at the prospect he toyed with
the end of his cock through his pocketless pocket which dramatically
increased the slimy wet patch on the Guptha's International underpants.

"Would wunnit." agreed Bogbrush.

Unwashed since the previous evening's carnal delights mit serious anal
probing, the nail-bitten, grubby fingers of Kelvin's other hand were now
actively picking away at a superior example of a ripe adolescent yellow
pustule hiding amongst the bumfluff his top lip. Watching with great
interest, it came as no surprise to Bogbrush that the head soon burst
letting the contents ooze out and allow Kelvin to simply sweep it all up
with tongue and then suck his fingers.

"Yer fucking disgusting at times when d'yer last wash they fingers then?"
asked Bogbrush. "Bet yer ain't done it since yesterday!"

"Maybe not," Kelvin grinned, "but I's knows that yer ain't no betterer,
`cause yer likes sucking yer fingers after bumming yerself don't yer?"

"Sod off!" Bogbrush had forgotten he had revealed that prime nugget of
personal information, nevertheless it was somehow very erotic to exchange
such intimacies.

"Sod that, come on hurry up the bells gone so let's go and see if us can
get old Wilson a bit excited!"

"Well I already is!"



Determined to resist attempts by Bogbrush or Kelvin entice him into the
world of adolescent temptation, Mr Wilson had been trying to convince
himself during the previous lesson that he could, would, must be able to
contain his feelings of lust for the boys. However, watching the class as
they trooped lethargically into the workshop and slowly begin to exchange
blazers for aprons, he could not avert his gaze from the many pairs of
trousers. He just couldn't stop himself looking, it was something he had
always done in trying to ascertain who already had an erection and who
would probably be masturbating under cover of the apron once the lesson was
under way.

It was the major bonus in having to contend with a room full of
adolescents. It hadn't taken much to realise that it would usually be the
same boys who would perform, being either immature, slightly extrovert or
like Kelvin simply addicted to masturbation. Generally speaking, being a
double lesson nothing much would happen for the first half-hour when under
cover of the mandatory apron things would start to develop.

Buoyed by his performance in the previous week's woodworking lesson, Luke
was one of the first to start, determined to prove to himself and Dave that
he was indeed brave enough to repeat the action and could masturbate in
class. Dave though was more cautious and hadn't exactly promised that he
would join Luke, but on the other hand hadn't said he wouldn't either! In
fact it almost seemed like a right of passage to some of the boys that
masturbation in the woodwork classes under cover of the apron was
mandatory. The real problem for them was not so much getting caught, more
that they hadn't realised Mr Wilson just couldn't wait for them to start
and would always manage by some strange coincidence to appear to inspect
their work just when ejaculation was imminent!

"Have you hurt yourself somehow Joel," asked Mr Wilson, a visit to Joel's
bench was not unusual for he could sense which way the boys interests lay
and that a full scale organ manipulation under the apron was not unknown,
"it looks to me like you're limping a bit today?"

"Ah, oh Sir, oh, oh yeah," quite obviously unable to tell the truth, he
looked up from the bench and the tenon joint that wouldn't quite tenon,
"I.. uumm, I's twisted me leg and that.. and.."

"and? Oh, over the weekend was it?"

"Saturday morning."

"Oh, well you must have really done something, as this would be the third
day."

"Yeah, I's reckons I did."

He certainly did reckon, for not only was it his leg that still hurt, far
worse were the injuries to his genitalia. Whilst his balls may have
partially recovered from being speared by Byron, it was his cock that was
the real problem. After being literally rubbed raw walking around in wet
jeans with added cement dust, it had since sustained serious, if not
catastrophic frictional damage from multiple masturbation sessions. Having
very energetically recreated the Byron experience several times over the
course of the next twenty-four hours by the time Sunday evening came his
cock was in a dreadful state, unable to attain an erection and actually
rubbed so violently as to draw blood.

 "Maybe you ought to get somebody to look at it?"

"No...no..." gabbled Joel immediately thinking of his cock not his leg,
"it'll be alright."

"Ah well, up to you. Now that joint looks as though it needs a bit more off
the shoulder." Mr Wilson already looking round to see who looked the most
likely next candidate for self-abuse. "I'll come back shortly and see how
you are doing."

Across the room having downed tools and thinking they were invisible, Luke
was standing by Dave's bench hoping to persuade him to enjoin in
masturbation.

"Dave, it's alright, yer can do it yer pants if wants, yer don't have to
get it out!"

"But, I's dunno if I's wants to walk round with me pants all full of cum
`cause they's was clean on Saturday y'see."

Despite what he was saying, underneath his apron Dave's hand was pushed
right down the front of trousers and actively rubbing his cock inside his
once white briefs, now a worn grey-white with a fetching myriad of
yellowing pee and spunk stains.

"Look yer fucking well wanking now, so's just hold on and I's get me willy
out and then us'll do it together like." suggested Luke very
enthusiastically.

"Well," Dave looked nervously around, this was going to be a woodworking
first and there was no desk to hide under if it all went wrong, "so is yer
really gonna pull it right out then?"

"Yeah, course I's is," bravado aside Luke wasn't all that sure either,
"once I's got it started like all yer gotta do is get yer hand under me
apron and yer can toss us off."

"Right, uumm.. yeah, alright," temptation already had the better of Dave
who was building up the courage to offer the contents of his underpants in
exchange, "and, I `spose uumm... well, if yer wanted like, yer could stuff
yer hand down me pants and wank I off as well."

"Oh yeah, I's likes the sound of that." said Luke, now really wishing he
had opted for the far safer option of simply ejaculating in his underpants.

"So's yer's gonna cum over yer apron then?" Dave looked envious for the
actual risk was itself a big turn on, yet the reality was he didn't have
the courage.

Nodding affirmatively, Luke was moving around with one hand inside the fly
of his trousers attempting to free his erection from his twisted
briefs. Although whilst the precise details of the movements were unknown
it was pretty apparent to Mr Wilson watching from across the room that
something was going to happen. Naturally, he had already homed in on Luke's
actions and had him in his sights as the next target, but would allow a few
minutes to reach the point of no return before moving over to see what was
going one.


Over towards the window the initial part of the lesson had been given over
to Kelvin's request for Bogbrush to tell him yet again all about his
Saturday morning adventures. That in turn had prompted Kelvin to think just
a little further afield as he played with himself through his pocketless
pocket and the increasingly pre-cummy Guptha's International briefs with
added dried semen stains.

"So why's Joel limping about then?" Kelvin looked up, the sticky glue brush
in his right hand resembling the head of his cock cupped in the palm of his
left hand beneath the apron. "Ain't his knackers recovered yet then from
when's that fat git Dipstick sat on 'em or wotever he did?"

"Dunno, I's go and ask him shall us?" Bogbrush was only too willing to
leave his pair of mismatched bookends to their own splintered
devices. "Tell yer wot, now I thinks of it he were fucking moaning that his
willy were getting all rubbed inside his jeans `cause the silly fucker
thought he's get all turned on if he didn't wear no pants!"

"Oh fuck, yeah!" Kelvin grinned. "Fuck! I's done that when I were twelve,
don't yer remember? The inside of me jeans rubbed holes in me willy and it
fucking hurt so's I's couldn't wank for days!"

"Fuck yeah!" Bogbrush laughed. "And, didn't yer try and put a gert bandage
or something on it to make it betterer like?"

"I's forgotten that! It fell off when I's pissed didn't it!" Kelvin
laughed. "Well yer go and see wot Joel's got then. Better wait till old
Wilson's buggered off, I `spect he's having a look at him as well!"

"Probably, dirty old sod!"

"He uumm, well Joel I's means, he ain't got a very big willy has he?"

"Ain't as big as mine, but it don't matter," Bogbrush winked, "see `cause
I's did wondered if maybe's the three of us ought to get together like? Yer
knows."

"Wot wank in me shed?"

"Were else is there?"



"So how's it all coming along then lads?"

Mr Wilson, hoping his timing was spot on for an orgasmic voyeuristic moment
had arrived at Luke's bench. Having taken a circuitous route around the
room to appear from behind he had planned that the element of surprise
would be on his side and at least one of the boys would be caught in the
act.

"Oohh fuuu... fffine!" Luke swivelled slowly round.

Initially thinking it was another boy the average guilty expression
immediately changed to one of terror on seeing the smiling Mr Wilson. As he
turned there could be no hiding the fact that his right arm disappeared
from view beneath Dave's apron and that in turn Dave's left arm was quite
obviously still attached to something that was hidden by the apron. Prior
to being apprehended, the excitement of it all had been too much for Dave
as only a minute earlier he had ejaculated into the furrows of his ample
stomach. The incredible sensation of feeling the sperm coursing up Dave's
cock and over his hand, had brought Luke to the very cusp of orgasm which
under the risky circumstances would have been a fitting climax to any such
occasion.

However, it was not to be. With a very slimy hand inside Dave's underpants,
Luke looked at him desperately hoping he would say
something. Anything. Anything, to help. Moral support was desperately
needed for Luke knew his own orgasm was imminent, unstoppable and even
squeezing his legs together as hard as he could was no match for the
increasing testicular pressure that was building up.

As fate would have it and it always did, just as Mr Wilson arrived by the
bench so did Luke begin to ejaculate, his face contorted, he shuddered
desperate to put a hand down and pacify his throbbing organ. It, having
been taunted by Dave's hand and brought almost to the point of ejaculation
and then stopped a couple of times he wasn't stopping this time! The nearly
five inches of Luke's sorely abused boyhood had had enough and it also had
more than enough reserves of spunk to absolutely flood the area beneath the
apron. Under any other circumstances Luke would have been justly proud of
his performance, but sadly not this time. The risk factor coupled with a
strange hand on his cock had played a large part in his over stimulation
resulting in a monumental orgasm. It produced a discharge the size of which
Kelvin would have been proud of, so much so that spunk had been forced
through the apron and beneath was dripping off his trousers and onto the
floor below.

Dave looked white, he guessed what had happened. Petrified and just to
confirm it, an insidious, ominous rumble came from the direction of his
trousers followed by the unmistakable sound of escaping gas confirming his
self-control finally failed.

However Mr Wilson, himself aroused and having a very good idea of what
might have happened was experiencing considerable difficulty in containing
his excitement. Unable to look either boy in the face he decided to push
their embarrassment to the extreme.

"Now, let's have a look at your.. uumm.. your work then Luke."

"I's get out the way then." mumbled Dave very wisely taking the opportunity
to shuffle back in his semen soaked briefs towards his own bench.

Standing next to Luke, Mr Wilson leant over the bench to theoretically
inspect Luke's version of a tenon joint, Luke was trapped and he knew it,
in fact they both knew it, although the only thing Luke didn't know was of
Mr Wilson's boy related interests. That the air was heavy with the smell of
semen and Mr Wilson was so close that each could sense the other's body
heat, Luke was beginning to experience a really strange feeling and
suddenly a desperate, absolutely desperate desire to masturbate again.

Being something of an expert when it came to observing apron manoeuvres it
was obvious to Mr Wilson that all that was between him and the source of
the strong smell of semen was a thin piece of dirty cotton. Some sort of
plan was required if Luke were to reveal what was beneath the apron, maybe
thought Mr Wilson if he were to inadvertently push the tenon joint towards
the middle of the bench and inspect it there then Luke would have to
stretch a little.

"You see Luke," the joint moved towards the centre of the bench as Mr
Wilson casually leaned on it, his arms somewhat outstretched, "if you look
here you can see the shoulders aren't level all the way round, d'you see?"

"Uumm.."

It was a very uncomfortable position for Luke to adopt and he was
frightened the apron might suddenly move and reveal all beneath. Poking
upwards from the open fly his erection showed no sign of subsiding and
continued to deposit semen over his trousers.

"Luke, see here, you can feel it, try it."

"Uumm.." his hand slowly moved across to feel the joint, the hand left
streaks of Dave's semen across the wood.

"There, d'you see?"

Mr Wilson rubbed his fingers together then glanced downwards to the bench
where not wish to crush his genitals, Luke appeared to be standing on his
toes. The front of the apron glistening in the light and what could only be
a teenage erection appeared to have the apron under considerable tension
and clearly visible just above the edge of the bench.

"Uumm..." Luke was fading fast, his mouth dry he wondered if he would faint
and leant against the bench.

In all respects, other than his cock, Luke was visibly wilting for he was
useless at lying, acting, subterfuge or anything like it. He didn't know
what to do and had all but resigned himself to be caught in what could only
be the most embarrassing situation he could ever imagine. To the contrary
Mr Wilson had absolutely no intention of embarrassing him, since not for
the first time would he gain far more sexual gratification if there were no
fuss. Instead he would adopt the tried and tested low key approach where
the matter would be kept just between the two of them and so rely on Luke's
total embarrassment to ensure he didn't say anything.

"I think that, uumm... well, maybe you've had an accident and uumm.." Mr
Wilson spoke quietly, "well, these things happen at your age don't they?"

"Wot!" Luke was shocked at the inference, one thing was sure he didn't have
accidents, he had simply been caught masturbating in class!

"You know," continued Mr Wilson, "it might be a bit of a mess under that
apron, why not uumm, well, say you nip in the woodstore and clean up a
bit."

"Uumm.. I's 'spose.." Luke, now a brilliant shade of red knew he had no
choice and stupidly compounded the situation by looking down to see the
front of the apron, soaked with semen and poking blatantly outwards,
"oh.. ffuuu oh... uumm..."

"You'll need to hold something in front to hide that won't you?" Mr Wilson
looked down, if only he could lift the apron and wrap his lips around it,
"So, uumm, well, maybe I'll pop over in a minute with a few paper towels or
something for you."

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Chapter 24 to follow