Date: Wed, 12 Sep 2012 09:39:51 +0100 From: tom Subject: Brief encounters Chap 103 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 ******************************************************************************* >>>>>>>>>>> Now your attention please faithful readers as it's time to put in word for our sponsor. Or, in plain English I wouldn't be getting my epic published and you wouldn't be reading it if it were not for the Nifty Archive, so if you enjoy what you read then please, please consider making a donation to Nifty. It's very easy and painless, you just follow the donations link on the main page - I'm sure even our oversexed and luckess hero Art from the story would do it if he could - come to that, he'd do it anywhere! #################################################################### Chapter 103 -- I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow... "Ready as I'll ever be," Ian looked at the rope, then up at Art, "I think we'd better tell Nige as well." "Oh fuck, so this is really it then." Art laughed and waved to Nigel to give him the thumbs up and indicate it was at long last time to put the plan into action. "You'd better cross yer fingers," said Ian grinning, "and yer fuckin' legs!" "Ready then?" called out Art to Nigel having realising it was pointless trying to talk quietly as the voices from the shed were just getting louder and louder. "Yeah." Nigel nodded and turned to check that Richard was holding onto the rope. Knowing that Nigel couldn't really hear, Art held his hand in the air with the five fingers extended and began to close them one by one as he counted out loud. "Five.." "Four.." "Three..." "Two..." "Fuckin' one! Now fuckin' pull!" The ropes tightened. The four boys strained, cursed and cursed. Nothing seemed to be happening other than the fact they were all going red in the face with effort. "Fuckin' stop it, lets have rest." yelled Art releasing his grip and throwing his hands up in the air as a signal to the others. "Fuckin' hell!" gasped Ian angrily, "wot's fuckin' wrong, it ought to fuckin' work!" "Ian, now fuckin' calm down, it don't matter really do it," Art was smiling despite the non-event, "let's face it, it was bit fuckin' hopeful anyway wunnit?" "But all me fuckin' hard work," he looked angrily at the shed, "you bastard! It's gotta fuckin' work!" "Well we can always just bang on the door, that'll fuckin' surprise 'em anyway wunnit!" "Yeah, but.." Ian sounded very disappointed. "Oi Art! Come on and fuckin' try again, fuckin' pull on it like fuckin' hell!" shouted Nigel from the other corner although he was barely heard above the clamour of voices from the shed. "Together then." called out Art picking up the rope. Checking they were ready he waved a hand in the air again and extended his fingers. "Five.." "Four.." "Three..." "Two..." "Fuckin' one! Come on, fuckin' pull!" The ropes tightened yet again. "Fuck you! Come on you bastard!" yelled Ian angrily at the shed, red in the face and straining every muscle in his body. The shed didn't bother to reply. With considerable effort they managed to hold the tension on the ropes for almost a minute. Just when they were about to give up and relax their efforts there was a loud crack, sounding like a gunshot. Abruptly the ropes went slack leaving them all off balance and tumbling over each other. Totally token aback with surprise they picked themselves up and looked expectantly at the shed only to see standing quite unchanged as before. "You cunt!" shouted Ian at the defenceless shed. "Wot the fuck!" exclaimed Art wondering what on earth had happened. "I nearly broke me fuckin' leg then!" "I'll break that fuckin' shed! Well I'm fucked if I knows wot's wrong with the fuckin' thing!" snarled Ian staring at the shed. "Why didn't it fuckin' work? I'm right fuckin' pissed off with it...you fuckin' bastard!" "You mustn't talk to it like that, it won't fuckin' like it!" Art collapsed in laughter. It was all becoming a little surreal. "Fuck the shed, some cunt's got a bloody gun!" cried Nigel in panic turning to scour the allotments behind them. "Fuck, d'you really think somebody's shooting at us?" Richard nervously farted and turned to look slowly around the deserted allotments now totally convinced that Nigel was, as usual right. "A gun! Oh my god... oh shit!" "No, you haven't have you?" asked Nigel having just heard Richard's rather vocal sphincter and adding without really thinking, "we ain't got no bog paper here!" "No.. no, I just farted!" Richard looked suitably embarrassed and very, very tentatively began to feel inside the seat of his underpants just in case. Art meanwhile had thrown his arms around Ian's neck and was kissing him on both cheeks! By the time Richard confirmed his underpants were not infused with disgusting substances and had turned back to look at the shed he detected a strange draught, it certainly wasn't beer! There was a distinct cloud of dust blowing right up into his face from the ground. "Wot the fuck.." rapidly blinking he had to wipe the dust from his eyes. "You've done it, you've fuckin' done it!" yelled Art very excitedly and grabbed at Ian to slobber over him yet again. "You luvly little fucker you!" On hearing Art's excited shouts Nigel gave up looking for mysterious, if not wayward marksmen and turned to see what the fuss was about. Grinning from ear to ear he in turn grabbed Richard's hand, which incidentally had just been inside his trousers checking the seal of his anal passage. Nigel pointed jubilantly towards the shed. Beaming proudly and glancing across to his handiwork, Ian appeared rather bemused at Art's somewhat elated reaction, although his growing erection did confirm he rather liked being hugged and showered with Art's slobbery boy kisses! To be fair, Ian had achieved near perfection. Almost as though it were hinged at the bottom, the side wall of the shed was in the process of gracefully floating down to earth. Thanks to Ian's considerable carpentry skills the two ropes had pulled it free from the roof allowing it to practically fold down as though hinged to leave the rest of the building standing like a three sided box. Watching from their safe vantage point the four boys saw the wooden front wall land in a cloud of dust as gently as though it were attached to a parachute. Being large in surface area and short on weight it settled to the ground rather like a giant sheet of paper, throwing up an enormous mushroom cloud of dust and almost obscuring the building itself. As the dust slowly cleared the intimate detail of what the younger boys had been up too was now revealed in all it's sticky glory. In the foreground, centre stage was Martin with soggy shorts and briefs around his knees. A huge string of cum dangled precariously from the end of his foreskin, there being little doubt that he was posed as though he was about to try and roger a very accommodating Simon! The other boys were frozen almost in tableau form, depicting varying degrees of self or communal abuse. All looked absolutely white with shock at what had happened and how they had been so deftly ensnared. Within moments Art and Nigel were literally rolling around on the grass consumed by laughter, their laughter was of course endemic as both Ian and Richard also succumbed. Reduced to a state of utter hysteria they were pointing wildly at the postures and revealing antics of the boys who had been caught most emphatically with their pants down! To Art it seemed a rather fitting and surreal finale when, aided by a gentle breeze the collection of stolen underpants which been so carefully hidden in the corners of the roof started to slowly drift downwards. Like enormous pieces of grubby, stained confetti the motley assortment began to rain down on top of the startled inhabitants. It was an exceptionally disgusting pair of Wolsey briefs which landed squarely on top of Simon's head which finally broke the spell. Transformed from statuette to raving adolescent in less than a second he snatched the briefs from his head, looked at Art then back to the briefs before hurling them to the ground with all his strength. "You fuckin' cunt... you're a cunt.. a fuckin' cunt.. you fuckin' cunt.." he screamed whilst directing a quivering finger as though it were some magical exterminator towards Art. "Oh!" was all Art could reply before dissolving helplessly into laughter yet again. To be fair Art and hadn't really expected Simon to react so angrily, but since he had the temptation to send him further into orbit was irresistible. Unfortunately for Simon standing there in a junior school vest that was a little small and wearing little else, it meant that he didn't really resemble anyone in a strong enough position to call anyone anything, let alone with such a forceful, if limited choice of vocabulary. "You cunt... you're... you're... all fuckin' cunts!" red with rage he screamed at the top of his voice whilst wildly pointing at the hysterical Nigel, Ian and Richard. Ian was crying so much with laughter he was unable to speak. "He's not happy!" whispered Nigel, stating the obvious in between guffaws of laughter. "Cor, he looks cute in that little vest don't he!" "I'm gonna fuckin' thump you... you... cunt.. you.. fuckin'.. you.. fuckin' cunt!" he continued to scream and point the quivering exterminator digit in Art's direction. It seemed fair to Art to assume that Simon was angry. In fact more than angry and even quite worked up. Actually, he was very worked up. Worse, he had progressed from red with rage to incandescent white rage with extra added rage. "If I'm a cunt, then come on and fuck me!" replied Art with tears of laughter running down his face in the true spirit of brotherly love. "You ain't got the fuckin' balls!" "He fuckin' has," said Ian pointing, "look he's got little ones, you can see 'em under his vest!" That did it, Richard and Nigel were now unable to speak and having difficulty breathing. "Ain't got no hair though!" added Ian before he too collapsed. "He's got bald balls!" That brought what sounded like a snigger from somewhere deep in the back of the shed. Maybe there was life after all. "You cunt!" screamed Simon, most definitely red in the face and positively trembling with anger. "You're all cunts!" "Probably!" said a voice at the back of the shed. As brothers, Art was usually the passive one with Simon having always been the first to lose his temper. Today he had excelled himself pushing both anger and vocabulary to the limit, lowering his quivering exterminator digit and clenching his fists there was no doubt Art was really going to know he meant business this time. "Hey you little wanker, don't you know any other fuckin' words?" taunted Art. "It was you lot that fuckin' started all this in the first place any fuckin' way!" "Wot! Started wot? Wot d'you mean?" yelled Simon. "Well you lot pinched all our pants from the fuckin' changing room didn't you?" "Wot!" Simon had no rebuttal, it was the truth and they all knew it. He paused, trapped. "Oh fuck you!" "I did offer!" Art started to laugh again. Whilst Simon fumed and Rome slowly burned, there were definite signs and sounds of movement now coming from the back of the shed. The boys who were dressed in little but a vest and each others underpants were finding the whole situation incredibly arousing, the testosterone in the air could almost be cut with a knife. Tom in particular was revelling in the feeling of being caught and humiliated, something he might enjoy in later life! Standing behind Alex he had his hand pushed down into the rear of Alex's underpants and was feeling between his legs. Alex certainly wasn't objecting. "Well it's fuckin' payback time innit?" proclaimed Art. "You lot fucked us right up in school that day. Every poor bugger in the class had to go home with no pants!" "Bollocks!" "Nah, wasn't bollocks. It was our pants and they was all hidden under yer bed... wasn't they?" Simon didn't answer. "Well, wasn't they?" Art paused theatrically to deliver the coup de grace, "And you've been wearing and wanking in 'em, we all knows that now!" The difference between Simon being red with rage and red with embarrassment was hard to tell. To his mind the very thought that everybody now knew of what he had been doing was the final straw, although of course he had forgotten that virtually everybody there knew anyway! Art had certainly lit the fuse and it was a very short one! "You cunt.. look... look...wot... wot... oh fuck you! You fuckin' told 'em all now!" the centre of attention, he looked wildly around obviously seething with anger. "Temper, temper!" said Art. "Or should I say wanky panties!" Sounds of giggling came from the shed. Standing behind Simon, even Martin who had so far remained absolutely motionless in the vain hope of not being included in the brotherly command performance managed a smile. "I'm gonna fuck you up now!" yelled Simon shaking a fist violently in the air. "Oh, you is gonna fuck me now then? I'll bend over then, shall I?" replied Art knowing that certainly wouldn't help Simon's rather intemperate disposition. "Yeah! I fuckin' am! You cunt!" Art's acceptance obviously didn't help his brothers disposition. Red in the face, steaming at the ears, virtually foaming at the mouth, waving his fists with his flaccid cock jiggling about beneath the vest for all to see, Simon was indeed a force to be reckoned with. It really was time to put some firm action behind all his brave words and annihilate Art as he had threatened. As most of the boys had realised, it was Simon himself who had escalated the situation out of all proportion and it turned to farce at his own expense. Being Art's brother and the only tangible link to the older boys he had needlessly felt it incumbent upon himself to remonstrate on behalf of his young friends. Sadly he didn't quite appreciate there was fine line between remonstration was going over the top. Watching Simon's antics Art, Nigel, Richard and Ian had been laughing so much they were having difficulty in getting breath as indeed where some of those in the shed, who having gradually come back to life now found the whole thing very entertaining. With a hand around his waist Tom pulled Alex back towards himself as he forced his tenting briefs into Alex's crack. The feel of hot breath on his neck excited Alex enormously, particularly as his buttocks were being kneaded whilst his underpants were very slowly pulled down and he felt the wet front of Tom's briefs being pushed hard against him. Simon meanwhile had just formulated a plan for retribution. Incredibly simple, it was to surprise Art by jumping on him from the raised floor of the shed and then pulverise him into submission. Submission for what exactly, he hadn't quite worked out other than Art needed to be shown that he wasn't always boss! However, like the best laid plans of mice and men it was destined to abject failure. Simon had forgotten that he was in front of Martin and being in front of Martin meant they were still wearing the remains of the briefs. For those watching who thought the strength of the waistband of Y-fronts had already been tested to the limit were about to be thoroughly educated into the high quality of Lyle & Scott underpants. Action. Without any warning Simon suddenly leapt forward with such initial velocity that he managed to get nearly two feet in front of the surprised anchorman Martin, before the superior capabilities of the Lyle & Scott elastic waistband restricted further lateral movement. "Fuckin' hell!" Shrieking in horror his flight was brought to an abrupt halt in mid-air. Like Icarus, he too plunged downwards at a vast rate of knots to prostrate himself on the rough ground. In any event, it would be debatable whether or not Icarus would have used such an expletive anyway. Probably though, something classically similar. Whatever, it was not to be Simon's finest hour. Having gathered sufficient momentum only to be stopped dead in mid-flight by the elastic restraint he found it cut rather painfully into his waist, that though was only a minor problem. Quite naturally by the laws of physics, in particular that of the push-me--pull-you doctrine there could have been no other outcome than to drag the very unwilling and surprised Martin behind him immediately after take off. Thus, together they crashed to the ground in a cloud of dust and it was only at that point did the elastic waistband finally snap, the frayed end whipping round to catch Martin across his buttocks. Everybody, including those in the shed started to laugh. Simon lay in the dirt apparently winded. Martin who had fallen on top of him was in the unfortunate position of having his cum soaked shorts and briefs still tangled around his knees. Not the most flattering position considering he was surrounded by younger boys, but to them an education in itself with his inviting crack and minimally hairy orifice exposed to all to see. His embarrassment made worse when he finally lost his balance and rolled off of Simon and into the dirt, which courtesy of his recent ejaculation rapidly adhered to the semen coating his genitalia and pubes. Jimmy, having already cum and still massaging his juices around his shaft his was the first to lean over and mentally photograph Martin's balls, dangling temptingly between his legs. Brian, nudged by Jimmy soon followed suit and was in turn pushed out of the way by his younger brother Robbie who appearing to be trying for his fourth dry climax of the afternoon helped by a very excitable Barry. Tom was straining to see from behind Alex, although neither wished to move from their position in the rear corner of the shed. Tom who had been humping Alex's bare buttocks still wearing his underpants had now pulled them down and much to Alex's delight, having removed his finger forced his slender four inches home. "Fuck.." was all Martin could offer. Slowly he raised his head. Appearing totally dazed he glanced around at the grinning, giggling faces looking down at him. "Fuck! Tom," echoed Alex quietly. "we ain't done this for ages!" "Mart, how's Simon, have a look?" called out Art who having seen there didn't appear to be any movement had actually stopped laughing and sat up. Internecine strife and brother baiting were put aside, he was genuinely concerned. "Wot?" "Mart, is he alright?" he called out again. "Have a fuckin' look." "Alex, Alex.. I'm cumming!" whispered Tom excitedly. "Nobody ain't seen us doing it yet, they're all watching Simon. Don't say nothing." Alex didn't reply. He merely smiled to himself and enjoyed the sensation of Tom banging his hairless ballsac right up against his bumhole and the feeling of a little something hot being squirted up inside him. In all the noise Martin wasn't really responding to the questions, Art finally got up and walked the few paces over to Simon, keeling by his head he gently shook him by the shoulder. "Come on you little tosser, the fuckin' games over," he said quietly in Simon's ear, "lets kiss and make up like we always does." Tom was wiping the end of his shrinking organ on the back of Alex's vest. "D'you think," whispered Alex turning as he pulled his underpants back up, "d'you think when were older and we do this, it's gonna hurt?" "Wot d'you mean?" Tom looked at the stains he had left on Alex's vest, they weren't just cum. "Wot.. oh, I see.. wot you mean `cause our willies be bigger then?" "Yeah, `cause now they ain't much more than finger and that don't hurt do it? We does it to ourselves all the time." Alex looked round to see if anybody was listening, but all eyes were on Simon, "You seen Mart's willy, now that up yer bum would really hurt wunnit?" "I `spose it would." "It's twice as thick as ours innit? It would hurt wunnit?" said Alex. "Be honest, ours ain't much bigger than a finger or two and we uses them all the time!" At that precise moment concentration and comparative logic on the ratio of finger to penis size were pretty low in Tom's priorities. Pulling Alex to him he very quickly kissed him on the lips. Alex blushed. "You've pulled yer pants up," said Tom as if nothing had happened, "won't yer bum leak a bit then?" Alex grinned and shrugged his shoulders, looked round again and leant back towards Tom, "I dunno, you don't make much stuff do we? Anyhow it feels all nice! Will you... will you, kiss me again!" Now it was Tom's turn to blush, he obliged knowing his cock was still as hard as before. "He ain't fuckin' playing, somethings happened!" suddenly shouted Art in panic having slowly rolled Simon over and seen some blood from a small cut on his forehead. "Wot? Oh fuckin' shit that's all we need!" Nigel moved over and knelt down by Art who had Simon's head resting on his leg. "But that little cut ain't bad is it?" Seconds later all the boys had gathered round in varying states of undress and were looking very concerned. However, for Richard who been erect for most of the afternoon and had never seen so many twelve year old cocks at close range before was torn between Simon's welfare and his own lecherousness. With the boys well with easy groping distance he was struggling to straighten his erection inside his briefs without being noticed. With a certain inevitability precum production had already started again and he knew unless he could relieve the pressure there was going to be an almighty infusion in his trousers which this time his mother wouldn't fail to recognise! "Nige, wot the fuck we gonna do?" Art was looking genuinely scared and as ever looked up to Nigel for guidance. "He ain't dying is he?" "Course not, now fuckin' calm down." said Ian putting his hand on Art's shoulder. "Nige, wass reckon then?" "I think," he took a breath and looked up at the boys, desperately trying to think what to say. "I think, first thing is all you lot gotta move back a bit and get dressed." "Yer right. Come on, let's find our clothes" said Brian. "Especially if we gotta get an ambulance and that!" "He's bleeding." observed David innocently just to compound Art's worries. "Better pick up all them pants as well, I `spose." said Jimmy looking around, "well let's fuckin' get going then." "Ambulance? Wot fuckin' ambulance?" Art looked as though he was about cry. "Oh fuck!" "Art, we might fuckin' have to get an ambulance," said Nigel. " `cause we don't know wot's up with him do we?" "And we gotta get him a bit dressed," Ian was looking closely at Simon, "look his cocks got dust and all that stuck to it! And.. oh bloody hell, we can't let him seen in just that vest can us? Joe you find his clothes for us." "Art, you're his brother so you're gonna have to tidy him up and dress him." added Nigel firmly. "Yeah, that's right. Now Look," said Ian, "somebody here who's got a bike must cycle off and tell yer parents, they'll know wot to do. They always does don't 'em, parents?" "Here, I think these is his." said Joe handing a bundle of the wrong clothes to Art. "Yeah alright, I'll uumm... sort him out a bit." Art looked up. "But wot we gonna tell mum, we can't say wot we was doing yer and can we?" "And look at the state of the fuckin' shed!" added Richard trying to be helpful, but in all honesty just wishing he was in the back of it wanking all over Joe who was currently standing almost beside him, still in his vest with his half erect cock only inches from his hand! "Right, shut up and fuckin' listen!" called out Ian over the growing babble of voices. "We gotta be as quick as we can to tidy up and get Simon's mum, right?" He looked about at the flurry of activity and the tempting sight of numerous boys in the process of getting dressed, that was if getting dressed equated to putting on some thin white football shorts over their invariably cummy underpants. "Yeah." came the collective reply. "Right. So you lot tidy up the clothes and that, then we'll push the side of the fuckin' shed back up." Ian looked around for Tom. "Tom you and Alex, you both got bikes so you're gonna to Simon's place and tell `em he's had a bit of an accident." "But, wot d'you wanna us to say?" asked Tom pulling his shorts up, the outline of the wet patch on the front of his briefs still clearly visible. "Well umm.." Ian forced himself to look away from Tom's shorts and turned to Nigel for some inspiration, "oh fuck Nige! Wot we gonna tell 'em? We can't say wot we was doing here can we!" "Oh shit no! Uumm... hang on, let's think a minute." "Don't think too long, fuckin' hurry up before he fuckin' bleeds to death!" said Art irritably. "Just say we messing about here, he fell off his bike and we was..." Alex dried up he looked around for inspiration. "And.. and we was going for help when we sees you Art and lot in the road... so you comes and helps." concluded Tom. "That do?" "Fuckin' have too, now on yer fuckin' bike!" Nigel smiled. "Don't you have a fuckin' accident neither!" "I think his eyes opened and closed!" interrupted Art excitedly staring at Simon's white face. "That's good innit?" said Richard. "He might just be knocked out a bit like." "Bloody hope so." said Nigel under his breath. "Like wot?" asked Art looking up. "Like wot?" "I dunno, it's just an expression innit?" replied Richard shrugging his shoulders. "Oh, that all." Art was obviously disappointed and hoping for a useful explanation. "Sorry." "It's alright." Art looked at his non-existent wrist watch. "How long's it been Nige?" "I think it's only been a couple of minutes, but feels like fuckin' forever though don't it?" "That all." Art pulled a face and looked down to Simon, there was no change. "Yeah, right you two fuck off right now be quick and while yer gone," said Ian, "Art'll get him a bit dressed and we'll do something with the bloody shed!" "Got it." Alex felt a hand behind his back gently rubbing his bum, something not unnoticed by Richard as were the dark stains on his vest that showed through his thin white shorts. "Well come on then!" Tom removed his hand and moved to grab his bike. "We're gonna tell 'em that then, yeah? Right?" "Yes, now bugger off and be fuckin' quick about it," said Ian looking down at Art, "we're all gonna stick to the same story ain't we?" Art wasn't really listening he was looking with tears in his eyes at Simon who's head was still just lying still across his leg. "Art, you alright?" asked Nigel bending down. "No I'm fuckin' ain't! I shouldn't have wound him up, then he wouldn't have jumped would he, the silly little sod." he wiped his eyes and looked up. "They gonna be long?" "I fuckin' hope not, yer house is only a five minutes away if they pedals like fuck." "Come on you lot, let's put the shed back together before they get's back." Ian acted like a foreman, but then somebody had to take charge and take the focus away from Simon. Understandably muted the boys gathered around the side of the shed lying on the ground and all bent over ready to lift. Sad as the situation was Richard unable to stop himself surveyed the collection of bums in white shorts with the so very obvious lines of their briefs beneath. Hoping he wasn't being noticed he again rearranged his erection through his wet pocket, in his very soggy briefs. "Right, lift on the count of three." Ian was definitely in charge. "One... two...three..." "That was easy wunnit?" Nigel stood back and looked at the shed. "Well done kids, we'll do it again some day!" That brought a few laughs and lightened the mood for a few moments although Simon was never far from anyone's thoughts. Looking somewhat skewed and having a few loose boards the shed wall was back up in position, it certainly appeared good enough at a distance. "Right, now is you lot gonna bugger off and leave us to sort Simon out?" asked Ian. "No we fuckin' ain't! We wants to know he's alright." replied David firmly. "Course we ain't going, he's our mate ain't he?" Nigel looked at Ian, "Can't blame 'em can you?" "Nah, not really `spose I'd be the same." Ian, for the first time turned to make eye contact with Martin, it was something neither had purposely done all afternoon. An unspoken agreement which just seemed to be the thing to do since emotions were high enough already without adding the complication of their strong feelings into the mix. They just smiled at each other, a very telling smile and luckily not picked up on by anyone else. Ian mouthed one word and winked. "Later." "Wot you doing, looks like you've cum in yer pants with all these kids about?" Startled by the whisper and immediately blushing bright red, Richard spun round to see Nigel looking down at the front of his trousers. "It's alright we all fancies 'em at one time or another!" whispered Nigel. "Which one is it? I had a thing about Tom once, wanked over him every night!" "Uumm...none.. don't know wot you means! " Richard swallowed hard and tried not to look Nigel in the face. "You lying fucker!" said Nigel grinning and moving to stand almost in front of him. "It's Dave or Joe innit? I've seen you watching `em!" "No.. uumm.. no.. fuck you!" lying was utterly useless, he blushed to prove it. "Which one, bet his Joe." Nigel continued to grinning "He's got a nice little cock ain't he?" "You sod," Richard finally smiled, despite his red face, "yeah alright, it's Joe innit and I.." Before Richard could continue a firm hand had cupped the wet front of his trousers and instinctively located the leaking head of his cock to squeeze it several times through his foreskin. "Ahhh... oh no... no... please..." Richard closed his eyes tightly and began to visibly tremble. Having no idea Richard was so aroused Nigel was shocked when he began to rather obviously ejaculate and could even sense the pulsing of his cock through the various layers of sticky clothing. "Oh shit! Rich, sorry I, I really didn't mean to.. didn't know you was so close! I'm so..." "Uuuhhh..." "At last, here's the car!" cried David interrupting Nigel's whispered apology. "Ooh.." Richard finished ejaculating even though Nigel never finished the sentence once David had started excitedly hopping about and pointing to the allotment entrance. The car skidded to a halt in a cloud of dust, Ted immediately jumped out followed by Tom and Alex from the rear doors. "Art, what's happened?" asked Ted rushing over and kneeling down by Simon's side. "He fell off his bike and they was going for help and just bumped into us." Art couldn't look his father in the face and instead stared down at Simon. "Just lucky wunnit, so we sent Tom for you?" "So how long has be been like this?" Ted was looking at the cut on his forehead which had now stopped bleeding. "Was it long ago, I mean.. two minutes, half an hour or what?" "Where's mum?" "At her mothers and there's no phone is there. Art, how long?" David was looking at his ubiquitous Timex watch and working out the time. "I `spose it must be getting on for ten minutes now." "Shit!" said Ted under his breath not wanting his fears made obvious to the boys. "Art, come on give me hand and we'll get him in the car and we'll take him down to the hospital. There's nothing broken is there?" "Don't think so," replied Ian, "we had a quick look, he was just flat on the ground and Art turned him over." "The hospital?" repeated Art. "Dad, I think he opened his eyes earlier." "That's a good sign, but he still needs looking at." Ted bent over and ran his hands quickly over his limbs checking for any obvious broken bones. "Now come on. I hope it's nothing, he might just have knocked him self out." "I'll get his legs in," said Art running over and opening the other rear door as Ted manoeuvred Simon onto the back seat through the other door. "Seats a bit wet or something dad." called Art from inside the car. "What? Oh hell, I don't know, just hurry up." Ted shrugged his shoulders, there were far more important things to think about. Hearing that Alex had turned crimson with embarrassment and slowly put a hand behind to feel his shorts. Having also heard, Tom wasn't sure what to do, he moved so he could look behind Alex. Sure enough the seat of Alex's thin shorts were definitely wet and slightly stained, he knew what with. "Oh fuck!" he whispered. "Tom is it bad?" "It was that bike ride wunnit?" said Tom very quietly. "Well it's yer old clothes and `cause they're all thin and... and now they're a bit stained as well." "Wot?" Alex didn't quite understand. "Wot's mean stained?" "Uumm.." Tom was now as embarrassed as Alex, "well it's all come out yer bum hasn't it?" "Oh shit!" Alex's mouth dropped, surely the ultimate embarrassment. Tom reached out and held his hand. "Sorry." Blinking, Alex squeezed it. The whole day had been rather exciting one way or another and had been now capped by Simon's accident. "Right, we're off." said Ted closing the rear door and getting quickly back in the driving seat. "Thank you boys, promise we'll let you know what it is, I just hope it's nothing more serious than concussion or something." Nobody really said anything as the car spun round and with Art crammed in the back along with Simon set off down the dusty track towards the main road and the direction of the hospital. ########################################### Chap 104 to follow