Date: Wed, 30 Jan 2013 08:43:10 +0000 From: tom Subject: Brief encounters C 112 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 112 – Art grabs the ballcock "You're gonna have to take 'em off then." "No, no, not here." Charles shook his head vigorously. "Suppose somebody comes in?" "Oh bloody hell Gog's, it's a fuckin' bog innit?" replied David. "We's all boys and we changes together for gym and that, it's not like we ain't seen undies before is it?" "Well, no but.." "Come on then." said David encouragingly knowing his cock was already going hard. He'd certainly seen some undies in the changing rooms before and how he loved it! "Oh... well..." Charles still wasn't that enthusiastic. "Well, tell you wot d'you want me to try and clean the wet leg of yer shorts with a few wet paper towels then? You don't want yer new uniform to go green do you or I `spect yer mum'll go nuts, mine would." "Yes, please let's try." he shook his head again. "It can't go green." "Come over to this sink then." David walked over to the row of sinks, carefully picking the one with the driest area of floor around it. Grabbing a handful of paper towels he thought to himself that without Charles actually removing his shorts it looked that the chances of getting inside his shorts were rapidly evaporating. Or, were they? "Gog's I don't think this is gonna work, but I'll wet a paper towel and dab it on yer shorts to see if we can get the green water out of 'em that way." Not quite understanding what he had meant, Charles stood still and watched as David wet a couple of the towels and bent down, dabbing them on the leg of the shorts it did miraculously produce a couple of effects. The first, that since the towel was turning a sort of pale green it implied some sort of cleansing action must be taking place and secondly, more importantly that David had now attained a magnificent erection. Or, as he felt it was the erection of all erections "It's very hard doing this," David looked up and grinned, "tricky to get a good squeeze at it. D'you mind if I puts me hand up a bit inside to sorta press yer shorts and towel together?" "What?" Charles looked down and then realised what David had meant. "Oh, I see, well yes if you think it'll work." "Wouldn't wanting you thinking I was getting any funny ideas!" David giggled, in the merest fraction of a nano second he had achieved his objective and had his fingers inserted between the pale green lining of the shorts and Charles' white leg. "It tickles!" despite his predicament Charles smiled. "Mmhhh... so I won't put me hand too far up... yet then..." murmured David his eyes glinting, "oh look Gog's look these towels is going all green, this must be working." "Dave, I didn't want to take my shorts off, because you never know who might come in and find us." admitted Charles now appearing to relax a little. "I'd never liked being seen undressed even when at junior school." "No, I can imagine that," David continued dabbing at the shorts which was now really only making them considerably wetter than they already were, "only thing is Gog's, I wonder if yer white pants has gone a bit green as well as the lining?" "Oh no, oh.. uumm.." the smile went from Charles' face, "well uumm..." "Tell you wot," David's fingers were gradually creeping up inside the leg, "why don't you let me do a bit more of this, then well... we could nip in one of them cubicles and drop yer shorts and have a quick look." "Yes, I suppose that's a good idea." Charles seemed to relax again. "I don't mind you seeing." "Trouble is, wot do we do if yer pants have gone a bit green?" asked David, hoping that his free hand which was carefully re-arranging his supreme erection hadn't been noticed. "Oh no!" Charles visibly tensed. "Oh, I don't know." "D'you think yer mum would notice?" "When she ironed them she would!" Andy and James were feeling incredibly pleased with themselves. Both now having attained the notoriety of being elevated to the cumming in class club in their underpants, even if it was only them that knew it! "You been watching them two at the back?" whispered Art nudging Nigel. "Wot? Who?" Nigel awoke from his lewd daydream and pushed his erection into the bottom of the desk. "Turn round slowly and have a butchers, look at Andy and James they looks fuckin' guilty." A few seconds later Nigel reported back. "Well could be, but not as guilty as them other two are they still in the bog?" "Wanking again I `spect!" Art pushed himself into the desk. "I could almost cum in me pants right now." "So could I." the desk almost moved as Nigel thrust himself into it. "Aaawwww!" "I really wants a wank right now." Art looked furtively about and put a hand under the desk to sooth his throbbing cock." "Well ask old Woody if he'll let you go the bog for a quickie then." "Right, reckon he will?" Before Nigel could answer Art put his hand up to interrupt the quite enthralling descriptions of castle keeps, ditches and ramparts. "Sir, Sir." "Ah, Weldon." Mr Woods looked at him. "Do I take it your are going to contribute to the lesson?" "No! Sorry Sir, to interrupt yer lesson about rampant's, but I needs the toilet!" The half the class that realised the difference between rampart and rampant started to laugh. To Mr Woods it was yet another pointer towards the downward spiral the forthcoming history trip was destined to take. "Go on," he replied in resigned voice, "be quick. And, find out where those other two are, they should be back by now." "You lucky fucker!" whispered Nigel. "You really going for wank then?" "I am now," replied Art grinning, "won't take long neither!" Before standing up Art started to button his blazer in the unshaken belief it might cover the very obvious outline of his erection. It didn't. The prominent lump and stained trousers were instantly noticed by Harry, who sat nearest the door couldn't resist pointing and then began to snigger immediately drawing the attention of others close by. Blushing, but nevertheless determined in his quest Art shot out of the classroom at high speed. Once in the corridor, pushing his hand deep into his trouser pocket he stroked the end of his cock whilst he made his way quickly towards the toilet. On reaching the door he listened, it appeared to be quite silent inside putting him in the dilemma of making a dramatic entrance or creeping quietly in. Either way he hoped to catch Robin and Richard doing something that he would probably like done to himself. Like the other school toilet doors there were no handle as such, just an automatic closer. Gently pushing the door open barely an inch he listened again, this time he was sure there were sounds of muffled voices. Continuing to open the door enough to peep through the crack he was just able to look across to the mirror and confirm that whilst the main toilet area appeared to be empty one of the cubicle doors was closed. His heart beating excitedly he moved quickly, as one hand comforted his swollen cock he pushed the door open with his other until he could creep silently inside. There were indeed appreciative noises coming from the cubicle, bending down he looked across the floor and through the six inch gap between floor and door to see two pairs of black, scuffed shoes. Immediately guessing what was going on he moved as close as he dare to the door and peered underneath again, not only were there the two pairs black shoes, but they were facing each. Rucked up around the quivering ankles of one pair of legs there were some very semen splattered trousers and around the other, a tangled heap of trousers and white briefs, both heavily stained with semen. Since there appeared to be sufficient noise coming from the cubicle to mask his movements he knew had no choice, it just had to be the adjacent cubicle routine. Taking a deep breath Art moved silently into the adjoining cubicle listening excitedly to the familiar slurping noises as he crept in. Recalling how Richard had slipped so disastrously from the toilet and put a foot in the pan, he climbed very carefully onto the bakelite toilet seat absolutely determined he was not going to make the same mistake. In the other cubicle, Robin was sat on the toilet lid with Richard most emphatically back in predator mode and all but devouring Robin's straining organ. Little dribbles of saliva were falling from the corners of his mouth, down between Robin's legs and soaking into his school trousers. Having cum twice within the last hour Robin's chances of a meaningful third ejaculation were slim, nevertheless he willed his straining testicles to produce just a few more dribbles of spunk. Richard standing in front, being masturbated by Robin was as ever a veritable walking semen factory. Typically, he was having no such trouble and instead produced a permanent string of goo from the end of his foreskin which hung from Robin's shaking hand to drip over the floor and Richard's uniform. Hearing the slurps, groans and grunts from the adjoining cubicle had Art, who was already extremely aroused in danger of uncontrolled ejaculation. No sooner had he stood on the toilet lid than he unzipped his trousers and released his rather sticky boyhood to twang into view. However, now balanced cock in hand he was presented with an unforeseen problem. The partitions between the cubicles were some six inches higher than in the other toilets meaning he was unable to easily peer over to see what was going on! Driven by the noises emanating from the other side of the wall and vividly imagining what could be happening he frantically looked around thinking what could be done to answer his rather disgusting prayers and all before he ejaculated prematurely. Then, struck by a flash of genius he devised a way of seeing what was happening and began to manoeuvre himself into a suitable position. With one hand against the wall with the other wrapped firmly around his leaking cock, he balanced triumphantly on top the china cistern to squint over the partition to the treasures beyond. It looked and sounded as though he were just in time to witness all of Richard's slobbering lip work pay dividends and incredibly it also appeared that Robin had almost reached his third climax within the hour. Sweating with effort, his balls aching and feeling as though they were literally being wrung dry he began to gasp and buck his hips off the toilet. Forcing his slim, if not now very tender organ deep into the welcoming depths of the waiting mouth he grimly hung onto Richard's extensive, slippery foreskin whilst willing himself to cum. "Ohh fuuccckkkk..." exclaimed Robin, "I... I am.. I am gonnaaa cummm...ooohhh.." "Keep... wanking me!" ordered Richard in between frantically sucking and pushing his own slimy organ further into Robin's eager grasping hand. "Cum... fuckin' hell..." muttered Art from above, firmly gripping his cock, "so'm I!" Attempting to excitedly stroke the entire length of his cock Art immediately discovered that after being constrained within his fetid trousers the lubricational qualities of dried semen were absolutely nil! Glancing down at the sore and reddened head, it stared back up with one tearful eye, the answer of course was to dribble a mouthful of saliva down over it to act as much needed lubricant. "I'm cumming!" shrieked Robin wobbling on the toilet. "Fuck! I'm gonna miss it!" said Art to himself, a dollop of lubricant hanging from the corner of his mouth. Making a gargantuan effort to pull himself backup into position with his one arm, Art squinted over the partition, his other hand now smeared with the revolting mix of saliva and semen mercilessly pounded the reddened head of his oozing cock. With perfect timing Robin started to shake, shudder and dispense his very few precious drops of semen into Richard's waiting mouth. It was indeed exquisite timing since Art having passed into oblivion also began to shake, shudder and shoot his semen all over the wall immediately in front of him. Alas, in concord with the shaking and shuddering those very same forces were instantly, not to say immediately transferred through Art's body down to his recently polished black school shoes. There was little that could withstand the combined bi-lateral stresses coupled with the implied co-tangental vibrational forces which Art's pimply, lily white legs transmitted so effortlessly to the lid of cistern. The old fixings that held the porcelain cistern soon yielded their puny grip on the wall. Thus, once the supporting screws were torn from the wall the cistern instantly ended up balanced at a crazy angle in mid air, supported only by the water inlet and discharge pipes. This time, Art had literally fallen from grace in a truly catastrophic way. The gravitational forces of the heavy cistern lid preceded him, smashing the bakelite toilet seat to leave a jagged edge which in turn caught Art's trousers during his own rapid descent. Temporarily stunned, he remained on the dirty toilet floor totally drenched by the contents of the cistern which had taken it's revenge and emptied itself over him. His semen streaked fly was still gaping wide open, but no longer was his proud boyhood twitching towards the heavens. With the with cold water cascading over him from the broken ballcock his glorious appendage had shrivelled to resemble a button mushroom. Robin and Richard were quite understandably beside themselves with panic, not knowing what had happened or who it was that had appeared to have fallen. For them it wasn't just the noise or the fact the floor had instantly been flooded, it was that they desperately feared being found together in such damning circumstances. Regrettably, both having had their trousers around their ankles at the time meant that they had also been caught by the torrent of water from the broken cistern. Looking at each other in amazement they listened to ascertain if there were any signs of life outside their cubicle. Strangely, other than the sound of running water it appeared they were now alone. "Fuck, let's get out of here!" exclaimed Richard in blind panic reaching down to grab at his trousers. "Oh fuckin' hell, you seen our trousers?" asked Robin looking down to confirm they were indeed as wet as they felt, not to mention the liberal coating of semen stains. "Yeah I fuckin' have," Richard was staring in horror at his wet, spunk stained uniform, "we can't fuckin' help it can we?" "Oh fuck!" was all Robin could say having finally taken a proper look. "Shit!" Richard grabbed at his trousers and pulled both them and his briefs back up in one very rapid, but very uncomfortable looking movement. "Oh fuckin' hell!" Robin sounded quite distraught watching Richard's wayward cock leaving it's trial of spunk over the briefs and wet trousers. "Me mum'll kill me!" "That's later, now just fuckin' well hurry up and get dressed before somebody comes in!" said Richard poking Robin who obviously was not looking forward to wearing the cold, wet trousers without his underpants. "Right.. oh fuck.. it's horrible!" exclaimed Robin failing to avoid catching his spunky pubic hairs in the zip. "Oh oww... me pubes.. oh shit!" "Come on, shut up and let's go." "This is fuckin' stupid!" said Robin, suddenly stopping the unequal struggle with his wet clothes. "Yeah.." Despite their dire predicament Richard looked at Robin for several seconds. Slowly he grinned and even Robin smiled, both tried not to laugh realising how ridiculous they must have looked. Opening the door they were shocked to see the entire floor was now very wet and there were still sounds of running water. "Bleeding hell look at that, wot's happened?" said Robin pointing to the floor. "It's flooded." "Dunno, who fuckin' cares! Let's get out quick." "Wot we gonna say to Woody?" Robin's smile had gone and having asked the posed the question he didn't want to contemplate the answer. "I dunno. Shit." Richard's face fell, he too had been avoiding it. "Oooohhhh fucckkk.." came a strangulated cry. "Wot?" "Somebody's in there." Robin pointed to the adjacent cubicle, the door having closed when Art fell against it. "Who the bleeding hell is it?" "I don't fuckin' know. Oh fuck!" Robin looked at Richard and then whispered. "Shall we just fuck off, quick like?" "Help... please... help me.." "He might be fuckin' drowning!" Richard looked at the floor and the water still flowing from under the door. "Come on and let's have a look." "Fuck!" said Robin under his breath, he looked at his watch. "Oh fuck! Be quick. We're gonna be fucked when we gets back to class." "It's fuckin' Art!" exclaimed Richard finally managing to push his head around the door. "Wot the fuck's he doing here!" It was a tight fit in the cubicle for the three of them and with some effort they managed to pull Art outside and prop him against the wall. Needless to say in the process they became even wetter than before with Art being literlayy soaked through. "You look at him, I'm gonna stop that bloody water." said Robin going back inside. After some swearing he eventually managing to ram a piece of the broken toilet seat under the ball cock to cut off the flow. "Wot the fuck you doing here?" asked Richard bending down to Art who had now appeared to come to but looked in dreadful state, "D'you feel alright?" "No I fuckin' don't!" he sniffed. "Mum's gonna fuckin' murder me when she sees me." "Well old Woody's gonna fuckin' murder us." said Robin very unhappily. "Come on, fuckin' stand up we gotta back to fuckin' class, fuck knows wot we're gonna say." Richard grabbed hold of his wet blazer. "Fuck knows wot me mum's gonna say!" "That's later, it's fuckin' class first now fuckin' stand up!" "I fuckin' can't." "You fuckin' can!" "Oh fuck!" Both Richard and Robin took hold of his arms and on a count of three pulled him up to lean against the wall. Unfortunately with his trousers already unfastened and now heavy with water they stayed around his feet displaying the considerable shrinking power of cold water on teenage genitalia. Robin stared in amazement, the last time he had seen Art's organ it was at full stretch, now it was barely and inch long with wrinkled balls to match. "His willy all shrunk!" exclaimed Robin excitedly. "Never mind his fuckin' willy, look..." Richard pointing behind Art, "there's fuckin' blood coming out his bum or something!" "Wot?" Art was very confused. "I don't care, just pull me trousers up, please." "Oohhh... shit! Oh sorry! But, yer look, he`s got a gert cut on his bum," Robin pointed and gently prodded the ample buttocks, "he needs a gert plaster or bandage something 'cause it's bleeding." "Pull his trousers up." said Richard grabbing hold the sodden waistband and struggling to pull the wet cloth up his legs. "He can't have fuckin' bandage, how's he gonna have a shit?" "Fuck off!" muttered Art. "You tucking his willy in as well then?" Robin giggled watching Richard struggling with the wet trousers. "No, he can tuck his own fuckin' willy in, I ain't touching that `cause I don't know where it's been!" "Oh fuck, look..." Robin pointed again, "and there a fuckin' gert hole in the ass of his trousers." Art winced. It was the last thing he wanted hear. His eyes closed, the very thought of his mother's rage was far worse than anything the school could punish him with. "Wot's that!" Richard turned round on hearing a cracking noise. "Wot's that?" "It's that fuckin' ballcock again innit?" Robin looked towards the floor and sure enough water was once again running over it. "Shit." "Art, since you can't go nowhere so you're gonna have to stay here and hold the bloody fuckin' ballcock lever fuckin' thing closed, we'll go to back to class and get some help." said Robin firmly. "Wot, wot we... you, gonna say to Woody?" Richard's mouth was suddenly quite dry, events were rapidly catching up with them. "Dunno, but we missed half the fuckin' lesson as it is and if we don't get back soon we'll be in even bigger fuckin' trouble." "You don't mean we's in trouble do you?" Art managed a weak smile. "Oh fuckin' bollocks, this can't make it no worse can it? Now show me this fuckin' ballcock thing then." "And about time too." said Mr Woods as the far from dynamic duo entered the classroom looking very wet, very untidy and distinctly guilty. Heralded by the outburst of uncontrollable giggling from Harry who nearest the door, confirmed something was amiss. Badly amiss. Something was wrong with their uniforms, particularly their trousers. Not only did they appear soaked through, but the water had a curious way of highlighting the numerous stains and bulges around the fly. The laugher grew. Robin clenched his fists and looked hopefully at Richard for moral support, but it was obvious that he had given up the battle and was regressing from sexual predator to totally nervous wreck. "Class quiet!" From the tone of his voice ,Mr Woods meant it and the noise subsided into muffled giggling. Finally, he walked a little closer and looked them up and down, then stood back. "What the hell's happened to you?" "Umm.." Richard opened his mouth, once so full of Robin's cock now finding himself unable to answer. As if to confirm his first impression Mr Woods looked again at the floor, to see they were indeed standing in a puddle their shoes soaked. He looked again in disbelief. "Jones, what's happened?" "Uuum.." was as far as Richard got for a second time. "Where is Weldon?" he turned to look at Robin. "I assume he's involved, he always is! Has he drowned?" The class started to laugh again. "Quiet." he turned and waved a finger. It was a fact that on occasion just one word and a gesture from a teacher who the boys respected could silence the entire class. "You two are soaking wet and.." he looked at Robin, "so just where is Weldon?" "Uumm... Sir... he's uumm.." mumbled Robin looking at the floor, "he's.. he's... sir.. he's holding the ballcock!" The thing about Charles' shorts was that when only inches from David's face they appeared to be irresistible, which of course really they were. David's left hand was thrust up the back of the shorts and cupping Charles right buttock. The tips of his fingers brushing on the rear of soft St Michael briefs, whilst his other hand theoretically dabbed the green stain off the front. Although in practice it seemed to hover around the small mound which could well be Charles' answer to an erection of minimal proportions. "D'you think we ought to see if the green water soaked through to yer pants?" David looked hopefully up into Charles' face wishing he could adjust his erection, but knowing that might give his ulterior motive away. "I suppose, we could." replied Charles somewhat nervously, albeit expectantly. "The floor of end bog looks alright, not too wet." David nodded towards the open door. "We'd better be quick though," Charles looked around, "I don't want to be told off or anything, it's still my first day you know." "Oh we'll be quick alright!" David stood up, now there was no disguising the fact he had an erection and for some reason being in front of Charles made him blush. "I, I want to.." quickly turning away and heading for the open door Charles was also red in the face, "to, to ask you something." Walking behind and almost pushing Charles through the door David smiled to himself, embarrassed or not it could be the moment he had been longing for. Besides, from what he had heard from Brian, Tom and Joe he was pretty sure what Charles wanted to ask after the previous abortive attempts to get inside his shorts. "Just stand there, we'll get 'em down!" giving Charles no option David sat himself on the black toilet lid and spun Charles around to face him. Within seconds the shorts were unzipped and pulled down to Charles' knees, leaving him standing there with shirt tails and vest covering the top part of his underpants. The tantalising sight of the bottom of the faintly pee stained pouch held David's gaze. "Wot d'you wanna ask?" David took a deep breath and slowly lifted the shirt and vest up, his eyes instantly focused on the prize contained in the white cotton. A small, hard object which was doing it's best to make it's presence felt in the very slightly oversize, full cut briefs. "Hold that up!" Charles instinctively held the vest and looked down unsure what David was going to do next. Momentarily they made eye contact, almost as though Charles was giving his consent. David's trembling hands began to slowly inch the briefs down. "How, uumm how.. what is.. " Charles was already bright red before he'd even posed the question, the seeds planted by Joe were rapidly propagating, "how, I mean.. oh, uumm.. do you wank? Can you... will you show me?" After not even one full day at the grammar school poor Charles was on the verge of succumbing to the unknown pleasures of the flesh. His innocence, ignorance even, was about to be shed forever. "Oh yeah, is it OK if I look at yer willy?" replied David as nonchalantly as he could manage. It was something of a rhetorical question since David already had the briefs pulled down to within half an inch of exposing the mystery of what was hidden inside Charles' underpants. "Bloody hell!" "What?" stammered Charles almost afraid to look down, rather unsure if David was going to start laughing at his appendage. "Innit cute!" "Cute? What?" very embarrassed Charles looked down. All three and a tiny bit inches were sticking straight out in front, the wrinkled end of his small foreskin hiding the head from view. "I got one of them helmets as well." David excitedly stood up and almost ripped his shorts and briefs down to his knees to reveal his four and a little bit inches. Freed from captivity it fairly twanged up and he instantly began to pull the foreskin back and forth. "Oh!" Completely taken aback at David's lack of inhibitions, Charles was rooted to the spot, he just stared. And, it wasn't just the fact David had his cock on display, Charles was also fascinated by the sight of David's pale blue, very snug looking BHS bikini briefs. "Are you... are you wanking?" he finally stuttered. "What do I do?" "Yeah and I'm gonna cum soon," David looked up from rubbing his cock, "you can do it with me now." "Come?" "You don't know nothing do you?" "No. Nothing." looking very dejected Charles slowly shook his head. "Nobody at my other school would tell me either. They all just laughed and said my willy was too small to do anything." "Hey, don't fuckin' worry," David poked him, "I'll tell you all wot you wants to know. And, well just bloody think, us two ain't half made a gert start by getting our willy's out now ain't we?" "I know. I haven't ever met anybody like you or those others in the class like this before." he pushed his glasses up and rubbed his eyes. "I didn't have any friends in the last school and they.. they always said.." "They always said wot?" David was feeling rather sorry for Charles, plainly he had had few friends and his very proper middle class background didn't really help. "They said I'd go blind if I started doing anything, because I'd already got glasses so it wouldn't take long to finish it." David burst out laughing. "You daft sod, that's a joke! The other thing you'll get told is that yer hands go all hairy." "Honest? So I can play with it?" the eyes were as behind the NHS glasses as was the revelation. "I'm not going to go blind?" "Yes, honest. They been pulling yer pisser!" "So it was a joke? Honestly?" "Yes, a big fuckin' joke." David grinned. "Look, if it made you blind by now I'd have bloody white stick `cause I does it at least three times a day!" "Three times! But, I don't even know what to do once." Charles looked at the floor seeming almost ashamed at his ignorance. "I know I can tell you, you won't laugh. It's always hard when I wake up, but I don't know what I'm supposed to do with it." "D'you get wet dreams?" "Wet what?" it seemed Charles had certainly put his trust in David. "Oh shit, uumm.. I see," David blinked then smiled, "well it's about time you started doing it then innit?" "Yes." Charles nodded vigorously. "Now, you mean? Can we?" "If we're quick." David cleared his throat. "So wot d'you wanna know about wanking then?" "Everything!" Charles found it quite an admission to make, "I don't know anything." David looked down at his cock and compared it with Charles'. The difference was obvious, rather than heap further embarrassment on the pensive looking Charles' he wisely said nothing. "I wonder why," suddenly Charles looked up and smiled, "why, Mummy has always said I was never to play with myself. She say's it's dirty?" "Oh. Well, mummy ain't fuckin' here is she!" David grinned and looked hopefully at Charles. Was he going to take the plunge, there was only one way to find out. "Now forget all that mummy stuff, d'you wanna do it or not?" ##################################################### Chapter 113 to follow