Date: Wed, 09 Dec 2015 11:50:51 +0000 From: tom Subject: Lab Technician CHapter 32 The Lab Technician Authors note: Usual caveats and warning apply, read this at your own risk, no representation of any person, animal, vegetable or mineral intended although if you do find yourself somewhere in this story with any of the aforementioned just think yourself very, very lucky! As ever all comments, ideas, suggestions, good bad or indifferent always welcome. Tom email: amias09@fastmail.fm ############################################################################### Chapter 32 – Spaghetti con Casolare Torta "I can't do it!" "Look I gotta go in there as well, so it'll be alright." "Andy, I can't do it! And, it won't be allfuckingright!" Martin stamped his foot on the floor of the car. "You know her, she'll go fucking mental again!" "Well.. maybe, but wot, well `spose, wot if she don't see you when you goes in?" "Of course she'll fucking see me! I looks like something dug up from gardeners fucking world!" he put his head in his hands only to dislodge more soil from the bamboo patch from his hair. "Oh fucking hell, look at this shit stuck in me hair!" Adam tried not to laugh at the reference to the television program Gardener's World, but knew from experience and from what Martin had previously intimated there was no escaping his mother's fanaticism where laundry was concerned. Besides which, everything below Martin's waist was caked with the finely ground soil that had resulted from the trembling feet of many an illicit male coupling in the bamboo grotto. Overall it was having a rather abrasive effect on his more tender parts and certainly his mental state. "Well I don't fucking know do I? Wot you need is a change of clothes and a fucking bath innit?" said Andy in desperation. "How we gonna do that before we get home?" "Fucked if I know!" muttered Martin in despair. "I just hope mum ain't in one of her fucking moods!" "Well if it helps and me parents is out we can manage the change of clothes, but they might not fit too well." volunteered Adam. "See sometimes they goes for a gert walk on a Sunday afternoon, don't know if they have today though." "Thank fuck for that, `cause it's a bloody good idea, so let's go and find out." Andy immediately speeded up. "Wot if they ain't gone out?" "Fuck knows!" replied Adam from the back seat. "We'll have to think of something." "Well even if I can borrow some clothes wot am I gonna tell mum about wot happened to these `cause they're a right fucking mess?" asked Martin surveying the muddy jeans and cream T-shirt that was no longer cream, but a shade of soil. "Uumm..." Andy stopped bereft of ideas. "Yeah, well... oh fuck, I dunno!" "Got it!" exclaimed Adam after a minutes silence. "Mart you'll have lie through yer teeth and tell her you was round at my place and... and.. and we was mucking about and you tripped and fell in me fucking fish pond!" "But you ain't got a fucking fish pond, well I ain't seen one." corrected Martin. "Does it fucking matter? She don't know that do she! We'll throw a bucket of water over 'em, as long as they're wet it don't fucking matter do it!" said Adam laughing. "That'll do, fucking brilliant!" agreed Andy. "But hang on, how do I fit into the picture in meeting up to bring him home?" "Ah, good point." Adam's brain was working overtime. "Uumm... you'll have to say you was visiting one of your mates and had agreed to come to pick him up after." "Adam, we're gonna have to do this dead quick to get back home before we're late for tea or that'll set her off again." said Andy. "That alright with you?" "That's good `cause I don't really want me parents coming back and finding the place full of fucking muddy scarecrows!" Adam smiled. "Besides it'll also give me a chance to wash some of that old blokes spunk off me clothes." "Mum ain't really that bad, just that she's got this fucking gert phobia thing about washing and having clean clothes." mused Martin. "She gets her moods, don't she?" Andy nodded. "And, about you doing yer bloody homework, `cause you never do!" "Bollocks." "Yeah, but wot you gonna do about it all, carry on until you leaves home? She'll have driven us all bloody nuts by then always going on about it!" said Andy. "Still, you might be one of them clever buggers that goes to university, then you can do wot you wants." "Yeah, I ain't thought of that. But, Maybe I oughta finish me homework first then!" "Oh fuck! You still ain't got homework left to do have you! Fucking hell! Don't you let her know that or you'll start her off again!" Andy sighed. "Don't you ever learn?" By the time they arrived at Adam's house they had all just about remembered the story and luckily, very luckily for Martin found that Adam's parents were indeed out, despite the car being outside. Within a very rapid ten minutes Martin had changed into some old jeans of Adam's and a faded green polo shirt. Unfortunately the two boys were of a different build, Adam being slightly shorter if not definitely rounder, meant the jeans were short in the leg and the polo shirt short in the body. As a consequence the jeans hung around Martin's bottom exposing the top of the older Y-fronts Adam had lent in exchange for the newer ones in the car. The subterfuge was theoretically completed by running Martin's clothes under the kitchen tap and stuffing them into a plastic bag before they set off home, leaving Adam to thoroughly examine and undoubtedly add to the stains of Martin's briefs at his leisure. Hoping to slip into the house without immediately being seen, Andy brought the car to gentle stop outside and turned the engine off. "Now you got the fucking story right haven't you? You fell into Adam's fucking fishpond and I'd arranged to pick you up after seeing..." Andy stopped, "now who the fuck was it I meant to have seen?" "Paul wasn't it?" "Paul? Yeah, he was a right prick at school, still he'll do!" Andy opened the car door. "I'm going in first and with any luck you can shoot upstairs while I talks to 'em." Martin looked all around before finally deciding it was safe to venture into the street looking as dreadful as he did, he nudged Andy. "Right go." Andy walked slowly up to the front door and put his key in the lock. "We're back." "Cor, you look a mess wot you been doing?" "Oh fuck. No!" Martin momentarily closed his eyes, Alfie had again miraculously appeared from nowhere and was grinning up at him. "You in some sort of fancy dress showing yer pants like that?" "No, I'm bloody not!" Martin looked down and winced after seeing how ridiculous he looked. Alfie was quite right, the jeans were three inches too short and hung halfway down his bottom, the polo shirt barely covered his navel. But, worst of all, that left exposed over six inches of Adam's old and very stretched Y-fronts. "Cor, they're really gert big ain't they?" Alfie pointed and giggled. "Oh shut up! Now listen Alfie, I really gotta go inside `cause I'm in a gert hurry. I might be out later, alright." "Oh." Alfie sounded disappointed, he'd been hoping somebody might have appeared so he could tag along and possibly mend something, anything. "Honest?" "Yeah, honest, now I really gotta go in. OK?" from his tone of voice there was to be no argument and with that Martin scurried off down the garden path towards the open front door leaving Alfie looking downcast. "So just how d'you fall in a fishpond then?" asked Hugh looking at Martin's bizarre appearance in total bemusement. "We was, well y'know mucking about a bit and I tripped." he glanced at Andy hoping he had told much the same story. "Ah, so you were at Adam's house?" asked Hugh. "Just, just mucking about..." "Uumm... yeah.. in the garden." Martin suddenly realised what was being implied. "Nobody saw you though," Hugh deliberately paused, "when you fell in the pond?" "No, no! Nothing like that." Martin really blushed, knowing exactly what was being intimated after the landing carpet episode with Adam. It wasn't that Hugh minded the two teenagers indulging in a little mutual masturbation as long as it was behind closed doors, since most boys did something similar at one time or other. Andy looked between them, was there something he didn't know? "It must have been a very muddy pond?" "It was, uumm, yeah, very dirty water." "And, so he lent you these old clothes then?" Hugh was now smiling, whereas Martin was cringing with embarrassment knowing the large briefs were the definite focal point. "D'you think you ought to have bath having been in with the muddy fishes?" "That's wot I was gonna do." Martin anxiously looked about. "But where's mum?" "Out at a neighbour's somewhere, I should warn you she's in one of those moods!" "Oh no!" said Andy. "Wot triggered that?" "Not too sure, I kept well out the way!" Hugh grinned. "I think it was a disaster on the DIY dressmaking front again, just don't say anything as with luck she might be over it by the time she gets back." "So, so.." Martin looked around for fear she might suddenly reappear, "so uumm.." "So, I think it would be a very good idea to sort out that washing and have a bath before she gets back to help you," replied Hugh, knowing exactly when an angry mothers assistance was not required, "don't you?" "Yeah, thanks." replied Martin taking the hint and rushing off towards the stairs. "Are you alright?" Hugh turned to Andy. "Sort of, maybe we can have another chat, but not now." images of Adam and Harry were still in the forefront of Andy's mind. It was all too confusing. "Whenever." Hugh tapped him on the shoulder, he turned. "Hey, we do love you." Bathed and beautiful, the wet clothes waiting in the washing machine and his mother kept cunningly uniformed as to the exact reasons for the washing, Martin appeared for the evening meal looking considerably better than earlier. "Ah, just in time." Joyce sounded as though her genial mood had returned. "Wot is it mum?" Martin sounded relieved on hearing her tone of voice. "I'm really hungry today." "One of your favourites, I know how you boys love it when we go to that Berni trattoria place, so I've done a spaghetti Bolognese." she looked down proudly at the assembled serving dishes and the steam arising from the pile of spaghetti. "Oh.. right.." Martin looked at Andy who immediately who pulled a face. Andy in turn looked to their father who raised his eyebrows. "Here we are," she said wielding a serving spoon, "and some extra sauce for you." Martin duly forced a smile and took the full plate without looking at it. "Not too much for me mum, I'm not quite as hungry as Mart." said Andy quickly hoping to forestall a further huge portion being dispensed. "Oh, I hope you're not getting ill are you?" "No, no mum, I'm fine." "And, about the same size Andy's for me, would be good." said Hugh. "Well you lot don't seem very hungry do you?" remarked Joyce serving herself. "Still there's plenty and you can always have more." Martin looked in horror at the plate piled high, he wondered just how he was ever going to eat it or even some of it. And, he wasn't the only one! Spaghetti Bolognese it was not. It was Spaghetti con Casolare Torta, effectively the all too commonly produced English version of the classic Italian recipe, which roughly equated to Spaghetti à la Cottage Pie remix plus tinned tomatoes. Or, more aptly in true Shakespearian parlance, a crock of shit! To be fair to Joyce, whilst her English cooking was generally perfectly acceptable her interpretation of the Italian classic had never worked, particularly when the subtle blend of bay leaf, oregano and other fine herbs were exchanged for carrots, peas and sweetcorn. In fact as many cooks would agree even the traditional English dish of cottage pie wouldn't include carrots and peas let alone sweetcorn as did Joyce's! The last time they had been served the dish even Hugh had conceded afterwards with both boys that it was best not repeated and luckily it had not been seen or heard of for months. However, now presented before them Hugh made the grave mistake of catching Martin's eye and winking which immediately started him laughing and spluttering food across the table. "What is something wrong with it?" asked Joyce watching in dismay as the absorption properties of the clean table cloth were rigorously tested by aviating tinned tomatoes. "Sorry... think it went down the wrong way." Martin mumbled, not daring to look up lest he start laughing again and answer the question all too honestly. It seemed the only person who really appeared to enjoy it was Joyce, mainly because she loved tinned sweetcorn! The others merely nibbled at the odd bit of minced beef and pushed the rest around their plates hoping some of the very watery tomato coloured sauce might actually stick to a length of vulcanised spaghetti. Eventually, on concluding it just totally inedible Andy decided to take his life in his hands and perform the reverse of the classic scene from Oliver Twist, where Oliver confronted the Beadle and asked for more. Looking up from the three separate piles of carrot, peas and sweetcorn he had separated out on his plate he spoke. "Mum, when we've had this at that Berni place, it tastes all different with a sorta much thicker tomato and there ain't no peas, carrots or this sweetcorn stuff in it." Hugh glanced at Joyce, then to Andy. The boy was braver than he'd ever imagined. "Well Andrew," she replied very pointedly after a pregnant pause, never ever calling him Andrew, "then their recipe isn't right is it?" "Ah..." obviously it had been a mistake to say anything, far better just to have left it. "Surely there must be lots of recipes, for this though?" said Hugh in a courageous attempt to avert warfare seeing Andy's legs had just been shot from beneath him. "Possibly." replied Joyce icily. As a mother Joyce was usually loving and caring, yet she possessed a quick fire temper and at times a withering tongue. Too withering. Criticism of her cooking wasn't to be tolerated, since she was the one who cooked every day of the week, every week of the year. Now that Andy didn't have either leg to stand on, he was again fixed him firmly in her sights whilst she mentally reloaded the gun prior to despatching him for daring to criticise. In fact, she had just realised that nobody was really eating it, not in itself very surprising since as it was her own avant-garde concoction. Her mood rapidly deepened. It plummeted ever downwards with Andy now destined to be the cause. "Yeah, I, I expect there are loads of recipes.." added Martin nervously, recognizing that her quick temper had now taken her way past the point of no return. To joke about her cooking was one thing, but to factually point out it wasn't particularly good was in an altogether higher league accompanied by a George Cross medal. Andy shuffled on his chair, why had he bothered to say anything? The food might well have been awful, but subconsciously there was more to it than just drawing attention to her bad cooking. Could the underlying reason be more to do with his coming out and the great disappointment on learning of her refusal to believe him when he desperately wanted her support and approval? It was silly he knew, but by challenging her over the awful meal he had the satisfaction of at least drawing some reaction, even if she might have exercised her razor sharp tongue. However, the razor sharp tongue had not yet finished it's work and the manner of her response was to be vindictively personal in the extreme. "I see that," she started, whilst looking towards him, "that in the washing we now have some little white girly knickers, it seems Andrew in his new role has at last started buying his own clothes." "Joyce that's unfair!" Hugh sounded more than very disapproving of her line of attack, knowing Andy's mental state was nowhere as robust as it could be. Andy went very pale, it was demeaning in front of the entire family he sat there in total silence for several seconds. Finally he stood up, slowly pushed the plate towards his mother and turned to walk out the room. Hugh, although knowing nothing about Andy's purchases, instantly recognised the shopping as being another part of his bid to establish himself in his new found identity. Trivial as the episode appeared, it would have been a very significant act for Andy and presumably taken a lot of nerve in his attempt to express his own individuality over his mother's forceful, straight-laced views. "Andrew." called Joyce as he walked silently out the room. Moments later Hugh got up to follow him. "Now where are you going?" snapped Joyce almost in self defence, well aware she had unfairly used humiliation as a means of discipline, it wasn't the first time, but it would be the last. "To undo what you've just done." Hugh walked out of the room. "You know damn well he's not himself, even if you can't admit it!" Martin remained, unsure what to do or say despite a strong inner desire to escape. Joyce sat there knowing that it not only took a lot for Hugh to loose his cool, but that she should not have publicly humiliated Andy. However, in stark contrast at number twenty-eight Westleaze Avenue the atmosphere was considerably better, with the evening meal over and tidied away the three oversexed offspring were doing their best to satisfy themselves. Despite the mornings antics with Alfie, Mark was again feeling incredibly randy, lying on his bed face down with an open history textbook in front of him as subterfuge should any unwelcome visitor appear. His right hand stretched beneath him and was pushed inside the waistband of both jeans and briefs to manipulate the crusty old sock which encased his oozing cock. Sophie had retired to her bedroom to read the latest copy of Jackie, the popular teenage girl magazine. Sat on her bed, facing away from the door with legs splayed and one hand inside her perpetually wet panties she was skimming through the problem pages of readers letters page in the hope of finding something titillating in a distinctly sexual way. What Sophie didn't know was the magazine wrote it's own letters and since they received so many letters regarding sexual matters they didn't want to answer, instead they sent out a variety of bland pre-printed leaflets! Of the three, Alfie was the only one who was not currently masturbating mainly because he had managed it quickly in the bathroom just before tea. However, even he couldn't resist occasionally rubbing himself through his pocket as he watched the early evening television with his parents. Several satisfying squirts later Mark rolled off the bed, turning to face the wall should anybody come in the room he pulled the soggy sock from inside his jeans and pushed it under the corner of the mattress. Despite the roasting given to him by his mother the previous day and the pile of freshly washed and ironed clothes that had appeared in the bedroom, he was with the exception of his better jeans, still wearing the clothes from the previous day. True to form he didn't bother to clean himself up, instead after removing the sock just felt inside his briefs to slip the foreskin back over his cockhead and allow whatever was left to blend with the existing more mature matter, licking his fingers completed the operation. Once sitting back down on the edge of the bed it became clear that physical satisfaction didn't always equate to total mental satisfaction and what he really needed now was to talk about sex, possibly even to ejaculate again. The obvious choice was his new friend Martin who appeared to have an equally enquiring mind and obsession with all things sexual. Additionally there was the slightly scary and rather exciting prospect of furthering contact with Adam, reputedly a real homosexual. Leaving the bedroom and moving quietly down the stairs he was particularly careful going past the living room lest he alert Alfie that he was going out. Once in the kitchen he was able to escape through the rear door and thence to make his way down the street to Martin's house at number twenty-two. "Hello. Yes?" Joyce didn't appear at all friendly when she opened the front door and barely smiled. Actually she had little to smile about, there still no sign of Hugh or Andy and Martin had slipped away as fast as he could leaving her to mull over the way she had humiliated Andy. To say she now felt guilty was something of an understatement. "Oh uumm..." stuttered Mark surprised the rather brusque reception. "Is, Martin in?" "I'll get him, you are?" "Mark." he replied watching he disappear inside and wondering if she was always so unfriendly. Seconds later after clattering down the stairs Martin appeared in the doorway, he smiled then looked behind. "Come on out here in the garden, so they can't hear us." "Is that yer mum then?" asked Mark sitting down on the low wall where he had first seen Andy. "She don't seem very happy." "Yeah and then no!" Martin checked to see they couldn't be heard. "Yeah it's her and no, she ain't happy. Her and dad have had words, well wot I mean is, uumm... well over tea she had a go at Andy and dad as good as told her to fucking knock it off!" "Oh shit. Best to hide then innit?" "Oh yeah. Feels like a fucking bombs dropped, I'm keeping well out of her way." Martin looked at him and blinked. "I hates it when they has a row. Dad's still up talking with Andy, but see there's other things as well and mum don't want to understand." "No, I don't really know wot you mean, but I'll take yer word for it." Mark smiled. "I'm glad you come," Martin returned the smile, "so anyway, wot d'you want?" "Wot I really wants is to have a wank with you, but don't sound like we can do it now can we?" Mark grinned. "I just done it, but I wants to do it with you right now." "Cor, me? Shit, no, no chance right now. I knows wot you mans `cause sometimes I'll do it twice, gert quick." Martin bit his lip. "Wot about one day after school, just the two of us so's we can have a good long wank, Tuesday or Wednesday be alright with me?" "Tuesday then if it ain't raining, or if not Wednesday? We could cycle somewhere." "Yeah." Martin felt in his pocket, he sounded happier. "Me cocks going up already!" "Mine's still!" Mark blushed. "It ain't gone down yet, `cause I been thinking of you!" "Thinking of me, you dirty sod! " flattered, Martin looked towards the house to make sure nobody had appeared, "Hey, while I thinks of it, wot about that sister of yours, when we gonna do that?" "End of this week maybe, but d'you wanna do the newsagent job thing and see wot else you can find out about girls and all that before?" "Yeah that's a good idea, d'you reckon if we were to sorta fix it for next Sunday sometime we'd be ready for her?" Martin grinned. "I hope I got the nerve to do it." "So do I! I really ain't sure, being honest, `cause she might laugh, she's like that." "D'you think we'll both have to get naked, I don't fancy about doing that in front of a girl if you thinks she'd laugh at me willy." "Well if we does it then so's she gotta get naked, don't worry about that." Mark squeezed his cock through his jeans. "I don't want to take me clothes off though." "No I agree. Let's bloody tell her that's the rules then." Martin sounded relieved. "Just sorta pull our pants down to show her our cocks and that, yeah?" "Right, I'll sorta warn her that's wot we got in mind. The problem is we gotta find somewhere to do it ain't we?" said Mark. "Can't do it at home, you got any ideas?" "No, I'm gonna have to think about it. Does she ride a bike?" asked Martin. "I mean, would she cycle with us, if we could find somewhere to do it that's safe and not too far away?" "Well she's gotta bike, yeah. But, she don't use it, she's a lazy cow!" "Wot about, I mean, I don't really know nothing about fucking girls or that, but d'you think she would wanna us to do something else or just wanna wank?" Martin flushed at his own suggestion. "How d'you really do it, d'you know, I mean like proper fucking with a girl?" "I don't know either, don't you just shove yer willy in her fanny thing... fuck I don't know! Don't that mean babies and things, if you cums in her.. oh fuck! I don't want no fucking babies!" Mark looked in horror and shrugged his shoulders. "Let's stick to wanking, I don't want nothing to do with fucking babies, besides she ain't never mentioned anything about fucking proper so I don't know if she'd do it anyway." "Hang on a sec," interrupted Martin peering over towards the open front door, "can you hear voices, I'm not sure?" "Oh yeah, think so." Mark nodded. "Wot d'you thinks happened now then?" "Dunno. Fuck knows!" "This is a bit liking fucking, it's fucking mystery!" Mark grinned. They both watched and listened for several seconds and were about to continue their conversation when Andy appeared in the doorway, seeing them he walked slowly over. "You alright?" asked Martin looking up at him. "Dunno really." he replied slowly sitting down on the wall. "Dad's great isn't he." "Yeah, I `spose he is." said Martin noting that Andy's eyes looked rather red. "Wot's happened with mum?" "We've just made it up," Andy blinked, "she's apologised. Now she's in a right fucking state, dad's with her now." Mark swallowed, he didn't know what to say and was feeling in the way, it had obviously been quite an upset and emotions certainly appeared raw in Andy's case. "So wot you doing here then," said Andy turning to Mark and managing a weak smile, "you've finally escaped from that little brother of yours then!" "Yeah, he gets on me tits after a while!" "I'll get on yer tits if you want!" Martin winked, hoping to lighten the conversation. "You'd get on anything if you could rub it!" said Andy only too delighted to switch into some banter instead of heart searching questions. "So wot you two fixing up to do then, going off somewhere for a quickie I `spect!" "Not today, but you could come too if you wanted. Honest." Mark smiled. "Better still, you could drive us!" "You really means that don't you?" replied Andy casting a quick glance at Mark and then down to his jeans. "I think he does." Martin looked hopefully at his brother. "Might cheer you up a bit." In the back of his mind Andy knew that one day he ought to ensure both Mark and Adam knew his age. Once he turned twenty-one sexual contact with minors would mean breaking the law and he didn't like the sound of that, even less the idea of prison. However, that was not what immediately concerned him, more that he really enjoyed the younger boys company and was afraid if they found out he was nearly six years older they would instantly drop him as a friend. "Yeah, well if you wants to come along be good, that is if it's alright with you Mart?" Mark shuffled on the wall, his erection snagged inside the fly of the old Y-fronts. "I think it's great you two can do things together." "Yeah fine with me. Anywhere, anytime!" Martin smiled, anything to cheer his brother up, he could always do something with Mark another time. "Maybe we will." all thoughts of the ramifications of being twenty-one were gone. "Yeah." replied Mark very enthusiastically adding with a laugh. "Wot about Alfie?" "Sod off, I reckon he'd love to, but he ain't he's too young." said Martin. "Now," Andy looked nervously towards the house. "will you two stay here for a bit, I'm just going to see wot's happening in the war zone." Martin watched him walk over. "Mark, I've had a thought, maybe we could get him to drop us off with yer sister somewhere." "Why d'you think he'd want to watch or join in then?" Mark sounded a little surprised but not adverse to the idea. "I reckon, she'd love watching three cocks squirting!" "Oh no, that's definitely not his thing!" replied Martin smiling to himself. ############################################################# Chapter 33 to follow