Date: Wed, 02 Oct 2013 17:05:39 +0100 From: tom Subject: Brief encounters Chap 128 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 128 – Robin goes camping.. Amazingly, Simon had showed great restraint in not immediately rushing up the stairs to his room the moment his mother told him of his new underwear, even managing to stay in the kitchen eating a biscuit for a couple of minutes before quietly disappearing upstairs. Art though, knowing exactly what awaited him had allowed a couple of minutes before creeping up the stairs after him in order to allow the full impact to set in. Impact wasn't quite the word, to Simon it was a shattering seismic disturbance. Peeking around the door and struggling not to laugh, Art saw Simon sat on his bed looking in complete and utter disbelief at his fingers which were poking through the holes in the string side panels. Taking that as his cue to subtly extract his revenge, he slid into the room, plonked himself down by Simon and started to recount, as silkily as possible the woeful saga of James who also with the new string briefs and had becoming the laughing stock of the entire class when he changed for gym. Predicably, Simon reacted by throwing all the briefs across the room and bursting into tears, as Art continued to take further delight by pouring yet more burning oil onto the troubled waters and enquiring innocently if anybody else in the second year wore the style new briefs. Having theoretically consoled him as much as he could, Art left him with rubbing his eyes and muttering about the absolutely unthinkable consequences of being seen in the changing rooms wearing them! Neither did the small talk at tea time really help Simon's predicament with Linda announcing amongst the small talk that she had been shopping for the boys. The fact that Art could stifle barely a fit of giggles and Simon suddenly appearing to leap into the air when kicked under the table by Art, didn't go entirely unnoticed by Ted. Whatever, the manner of purchases seemed to be a question that he was expected to be asked, so dutifully he enquired what they boys had been bought. Whilst Art managed to say it was a couple of shirts, a brilliantly red Simon mumbled totally incoherently about some new underpants. Ted unaware that Simon had developed the same fixation with underwear as Art, then innocently compounded Simon's angst by asking whether they were white or coloured and all but reduced Simon to tears. yet again and Art to uncontrollable giggling from behind the hand in front his mouth. Linda, being blissfully ignorant of such things as underwear fetishes missed the point altogether, whereas Ted aware of Art's fascination with such matters sighed and gave him a very stern look. Underpants and teenage boys, what was so exciting! Up until that point Simon had not even wanted to try them on, but the moment tea was over he bolted upstairs to his room and barricaded the door with his school bag. Having now seen that at some point he would have to wear them, since it was effectively all he had he reluctantly picked them up. Staring at the string panels he suddenly realised that had started to get an erection, how could that be when he was holding the most unsexy underpants in the entire world? As ever, his cock ruled his brain and he slowly began to take off the blue shorts he had changed into from school. By now his briefs had a distinct bulge which he squeezed before pulling the elastic waistband away from his stomach and looking down as the smell of congealing semen filled the air. The reddened head of his cock which less than a couple of hours earlier had discharged itself inside his briefs, stared angrily back up at him from the stained cotton and twitched invitingly. Surprisingly, pulling up the new briefs over his erection and feeling the newness of the soft cotton encase his genitals was actually a very pleasant experience. In fact they fitted rather well despite the string panels to the sides looking very strange and he had to admit they even appeared to offer several new possibilities in terms of masturbation technique. Particularly since a little experimentation showed his fingers were easily able to push through the holes in the mesh and very nearly touch his cock from both sides. His mood was slowly improving, possibly the new briefs might not be as bad as he thought, although quite how he could face his classmates when getting undressed for gym was altogether another matter. Still wearing the briefs, which for some unknown reason seemed to keep him erect, he was now feeling somewhat happier when put his shorts back on. After a cursory look at the homework he had been given in order to catch up over the half-term, he wandered off downstairs to see what was on the television, his hands deep in his shorts pockets occasionally feeling for the string sides. With his father sat in an armchair reading the paper and Art was perched in the middle of the sofa watching the end of a Thunderbirds repeat, Simon sat down by Art to see the end of the program. "Course them puppets is all worked by strings." volunteered Art grinning and nudging Simon in the ribs. "Strings, get it?" Simon didn't say anything he just looked, scowled and returned to the television. "I wonder.." whispered Art a minute later. "Wonder wot?" instinctively Simon moved nearer. Whatever Art was, he had a magnetic personality. "I wonder, if you got yer new pants on?" continued Art before surprising Simon and swiftly forcing his right arm between them. Very roughly groping at Simon's left thigh, the fingers felt through the thin material of the blue shorts to tweak the string panel beneath. "Let go!" Simon looked nervously in Ted's direction. The last thing he wanted was to start another altercation, having only just resurrected relations with his parents as it was. "Have you wanked in 'em yet?" This time Art's whisper was barely audible. Plainly he was finding it all very funny, not to mention rather erotic. Refusing let go of the string panel beneath Simon's shorts he began tugging at it so that the material ended up being bunched tightly up around Simon's balls. "Please... Art let go!" hissed Simon glancing at his father. Simon hoped the roar of Thunderbird One taking off would cover up their strained conversation. "You've got a hard on, I can see it," whispered Art staring at the fly, "and in yer new pants too, you're a naughty boy!" "Boy's..." said Ted from behind the newspaper, "does all that whispering spell trouble!" "Wot! Nah." Art looked over. "No dad, just a bit of fun." "You cunt!" mouthed Simon in between blushing and casting glances in Ted's direction. "Fuck off!" "Good, I hope not." Ted turned the page. "I'm gonna have to check you ain't leaking!" whispered Art as quietly as he could. "Oh piss off!" With that Art released his hold on the shorts and in one swift movement rammed his hand deep into Simon's pocket! Luckily, avoiding getting tangled up in the revolting handkerchief and a sticky sweet wrapper, Art's fingers instinctively found their way to the bottom of the pocket and the hole he knew was therein. Simon virtually jumped off the sofa as a grubby finger with it's chewed nail continued it's travels to push it's way out from the pocket, through the wide string mesh and make contact with the hard shaft of his cock. Without warning and much to Simon's surprise, just as quickly as Art had invaded the shorts the hand was withdrawn. Immediately Art leant right over to yet again whisper very quietly. "Let's go upstairs, we'll wank each other off while you wears yer new pants!" "Wot!" Art smiled, one of those smiles. That was it as far as Simon's resistance went. "Yeah, upstairs. You goes first." As Simon's erection testified there was no doubt that he was feeling randy and could undoubtedly manage yet another ejaculation if pushed. Art was certainly pushing! "Wot, right now?" he asked, rather taken aback at Art's speedy change of tack. "Yeah, you go up now and I'll follow in a couple of minutes." Art shuffled about on the sofa, his painful erection threatening to poke it's way right through the wet spot it had made on the front of his jeans. "Yer, alright." a smile crept over his face. Art winked and nodded towards the door. Simon's heart began to race, completely under his brothers spell there was no escape even if he wanted to. He looked at Art and grinned before getting carefully up in the hope his father didn't notice the lump in the front of his shorts, he walked in crab like fashion to the door and out into the hallway. Once there, he pushed a hand up the leg of his shorts and pulled his underpants back down to where they should be! "Where's he gone?" asked Ted a couple of seconds later, lowering the paper and looking over at Art. "Dunno, his room I think. He said he's seen this one before." "Quite likely, we've all seen it before! Summer television's nothing but repeats." Ted raised the paper and resumed reading. "Well, uumm.. I'm gonna go and look at me homework." said Art starting to carefully get up from the sofa knowing the front of his jeans was tenting obscenely and beautifully highlighted by the wet spot. There was no choice in having to make move in order to get upstairs. "Sorry Art, what d'you say, I was reading again." Ted lowered the newspaper again only this time to be confronted by Art's silhouette which left absolutely nothing to the imagination. "Oh my god!" said Ted rather taken by surprise. "Oh Art, I'm sorry, I didn't mean..." "Uumm.. ssshhhiiiittt!" Art went bright red and instinctively tried to cover the offending lump, it was too late Ted had already made eye contact. "Art, let me just say, I know what it's like being fifteen," Ted winked, "and you know we put up with a lot from you two and despite what we may say now again.." "Dad wot you trying to say?" interrupted Art, who despite his obvious discomfort was beginning to smile. "And, well we wouldn't want either of you to change at all!" "Oh dad, just shut up, it don't help!" Art turned and was about to rush out of the room towards the stairs. "No come here." Ted smiled and beckoned. "Wot?" Art approached with both hands in front and stood by the chair "Dad, this is embarrassing! Wot d'you want?"" "No it's not, come here. The fact you're a walking erection makes no difference to me, you're just Art and you always will be!" with that Ted stood up, hugged him and kissed him on the top of his head, releasing him seconds later. "I just wanted to say how much, how much I love you." "Dad.. dad.. oh...I love you too!" mumbled Art before wiping a hand across his eyes and then muttered "oh fuck.." Even Ted blinked, as he sat down he looked at Art who was just standing there wiping his eyes. "Now go on and do whatever it is." "Oh dad... I love you so much.." Art ran from the room tears filling his eyes. "Wot's up with you?" asked Simon as Art burst into the bedroom now rubbing his eyes and still asking himself who else other than Simon was lucky enough to have a father like they did. "Nothing, dad's seen me hard on!" "Wot! You got it out then?" asked Simon in disbelief. "So why you been crying?" "I ain't been fuckin' crying!" "You fuckin' have yer eyes is going red." "Piss off, it was dad wunnit?" "It was dad wunnit, wot?" "Nothing, he's just so fuckin' luvly!" it was no good Art had to wipe his eyes again. "I knows he fuckin' luvly as well, there ain't nobody like him, ever is there?" Simon sniffed. "And you ain't bad either!" "Fuckin' hell! Don't you fuckin' start please!" Art fought back the tears. "Now for fucks sake change the subject and fuckin' shut up, d'you wanna have a fuckin' wank or not?" "Course I fuckin' do, you got me all excited." "Good," still wiping his eyes Art pointed to his jeans, "just look at me fuckin' jeans I'm fuckin' leaking already!" "Cor, I ain't never seen it that big before! Let's have a look then," Simon bent down and stared, then put out a hand and gently squeezed it, he looked up smiling, "bleeding hell, it's all wet as well!" "Course it's all bleeding wet, I nearly cum didn't I!" Art grinned, his cock now feeling as though it were on the verge of exploding, "Hurry up then you, let's go in my room, `cause we can hear who's coming up the stairs easier." "How d'you want me to do it?" whispered Simon excitedly pushing a hand down the front of his shorts as he followed Art across the landing. "I don't care wot you does, but if you don't do something fuckin' quick it's gonna be too late and all over me!" Art paused and started to undo his jeans as he entered the bedroom. "Now just get yer shorts down, you can toss me off while I plays with yer new pants!" "Get over yer by the bed then," Simon pushed his elasticated shorts down to reveal an equally ominous bulge in the front of his new brilliant white briefs. "Fuckin' hell they're so sexy! Oh shit... I'm gonna fuckin' cum!" exclaimed Art frantically pulling his jeans down to his knees and exposing Andy's very grubby and wet gym shorts. "Quick, come here and let me feel 'em!" "Art, wot the fuck you got on!" Robin, fuelled by reliving that first sexual skirmish with Art and Nigel on what was now on a nightly basis, awoke yet again to feel a slippery patch inside his red and white striped pyjamas, luckily not a full blown wet dream. His progression from solo onanist to mutual masturbation had been an instant transition aided although he didn't quite want to admit, by his recent experience with his sister. However even with the certainty of sexual activity on the school camping trip a couple of days hence he felt was too long to wait and desperately wanted something to happen over the weekend. Thus, his mind fully occupied and a hand unable to leave his erection alone he had to grab the trusty, if not revoltingly spunk stained handkerchief that was his nightly companion from under the pillow and wrap it around his cock lest he put another huge stain on the sheets. Ejaculation quickly over he closed his eyes and slowly massaged the silky liquid over the purple head whilst wondering who he could persuade to join him in a mutually satisfying way. The answer was of course blatantly obvious, it had to be in the globular shape of Richard. Who, until his own sexual conversion by Art had also been a solitary and embarrassed bedroom performer. It seemed to Robin that the now liberated, Richard really was of quality exhibitionist material with a capacity for spunk production to even outclass Nigel's output. Besides which, Robin felt safe in the knowledge that even if he were still apprehensive about performing in public, when with the extrovert Richard he was it might be said, in safe hands! Since their joint, if somewhat deliriously sticky debut in the history class, their friendship had blossomed to the point where they had decided to share Richard's tent on the camping trip. In fact, much to Mr Woods' relief the onerous task of transporting and erecting the porous state of the ark tents to face a predicted week of monsoon weather had totally evaporated. Once when Andy had asked in class about the prospect bringing his own tent, it had been immediately apparent to the boys that to share a tent with one's best friend and be able to indulge freely in disgusting adolescent practices was indeed the far better option. So as the old expression went, the entire class had begged, borrowed or stolen to equip themselves with a motley collection of small tents and all the luxury accoutrements of camping, including toilet paper! Naturally, since there wasn't a boy in class who didn't suffer from mandatory nocturnal self-abuse syndrome, the intimacy of a small tent could only enhance the overall camping experience, particularly if some `A' level type lateral thinking gave them the idea of zipping sleeping bags together! With those very thoughts coursing through both brain and cock, Robin decided to get dressed in his rather old jeans, which naturally had a hole in the right hand pocket. The plan being to be on his way round to Richard's house by ten o'clock in the hope he could still catch Richard in bed! Mrs Jones opened the front door as Robin had just extended his arm to reach out and ring the bell. "Oh, Robin isn't it?" "Yes, uumm.." surprised, Robin wasn't entirely sure what to say. "That was lucky, I was just on my way out to do some shopping," she smiled, "I assume it's Richard you want? Well, you're more than welcome to go up and try to get him out of bed, because I can't and it's high time he should be dressed!" "Oh, can I?" asked Robin who's dream appeared to have started to have already come true. "But, but isn't there anyone else in?" "No, nobody. His brother Alan's been dragged off fishing by his father for the morning, not that I think he really wanted to get up early and go with him this time!" she smiled. "Fishing, if you ask me it's a boring thing to do!" "I `spose so, can't say I'm interested either." Robin smiled back. "Quite. Anyway, if you want Richard you go up and wake him!" "I, I came round to check about the tent and all that stuff for next week," said Robin finally arriving at a plausible reason to be there so early, well early for Richard that was, "for the school history trip thing." "Glad you said that, his father's found the tent and we're going to get Richard to put it up over the weekend to make sure he knows what he's doing, not that he'll remember!" "Oh, I'm sure he will." "I doubt it! He's absolutely useless at anything practical," she laughed, "he can't even boil a kettle so I hope you're not relying on him to cook!" "Well, uumm, well somebody will help I'm sure." replied Robin, his mind already transported to Richard's bedroom. "One of those poor teachers I expect! I'll be back with the shopping in an hour, so I'll leave you to go and wake him up." indicating to the bedroom window above the front door she added. "You know he's got the single bedroom at front above us don't you?" "Yes, anyway the house looks very like ours, so I'm sure I can find it." Robin smiled, his erection over halfway up just at the mere thought of entering Richard's bedroom. With Mrs Jones walking down the road and the front door closed behind him, the house was silent other than the ticking of a large marble clock on a table in the hallway. Robin carefully crept up the stairs keeping to the outside of the treads to minimize any creaking and on reaching the outside of Richard's bedroom door paused wondering what to do next. Putting one hand down the front of his jeans to check the wet patch on his underpants wasn't growing too quickly, he put his ear to the door and listened excitedly for any signs of life. There certainly were signs of life, in the form of rustling noises accompanied by intermittent squeaks from what he could only assume were the bedsprings. How though to gauge what was actually going on inside the room without simply bursting in and scaring Richard out his wits? The answer was staring him in the face. The keyhole, an archaic feature of most pre-war houses. "Is Simon in Mrs Weldon?" "It's Brian, isn't it?" "Yes." Brian put on his best twelve year old angelic smile. "I thought I'd see how he was." "Well you're bright and early, it's not even half past ten!" said Linda glancing at her watch. "He's up and in his room, but don't make too much noise going up or you might wake the sleeping beauty and that's an awful lot to contend with first thing!" "Sorry, wake the sleeping wot?" Brian looked puzzled. "Art! He hasn't surfaced yet." she smiled. "Probably just a little bit early for him!" "Oh!" Brian grinned having finally seen the joke. "I'll be quiet then." "Pssstt.." Sat on his bed, Simon looked up to see Brian's head appearing around the door bedroom door, he grinned and beckoned him in. "Quick come in, close the door," he said quietly, "we don't wanna wake Art do us?" "Nah. Thought I's see how you was." Brian sat on the bed next to him. "And, and I got some real good news." "Wot's that then?" "Well you know we was talking about meeting up early next week." "Oh yeah," Simon nodded, "and.. so.." "Well I got just the place," said Brian proudly. "Where?" "Up our house, in me back garden." "But won't yer mum see us," exclaimed Simon, "I mean, we'll be, be doing things!" "Nah," Brian grinned, " `cause we're gonna be in our gert tent ain't we?" "We are?" slowly Simon started to grin as well. "Tent? I didn't know you had one!" "Well see, mum said if it was gonna rain all half term the thought of us in and out the house with our mates would drive her nuts, so.." he stopped to pick his nose. "So, just leave yer hooter alone, just tell me wot yer on about." "So dad said he'd put up the tent in the garden then we can go in there out the way." Brian giggled. "Or as dad really said, keep 'em out the bloody way!" Simon laughed. "Cor, that's good innit. Is it a gert big tent then?" "Yeah, we all slept in it when we went camping in Cornwall last summer holiday." "Ooh yeah, I'd forgotten that." "Yeah and we're gonna wear our white shorts like us did before in the woods 'cause it's so sexy," Brian paused having just noticed Simon was wearing his already, "just like you got yours on now." "Well mum collected me favourite blue ones for the big wash earlier, didn't she." "She'd have seen them wank stains then?" Brian giggled. "Only if she turns 'em inside out!" "Hey," Brian suddenly pointed towards Simon's thigh having seen the outline of the string briefs, "wot's that you got on, that some new pants or something?" "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" hissed Simon. "Don't. Keep quiet!" "Sorry wot have I said?" Brian looked taken aback at the strength of the outburst. "It's me mum innit," Simon screwed his face up, "she said yesterday she'd bought me some new pants and I thought they'd be coloured like Dave's or something." "And, they ain't?" "Nah they fuckin' ain't. Do they look fuckin' coloured? They're fuckin' horrible white!" Rather astutely Brian assumed from Simon's contorted face this was obviously a very serious matter, which indeed it was. "So wot are they then?" Brian smiled reassuringly. "Stand up, let's have a butchers." "They got, they got fuckin' string sides ain't they? Fuckin' string!" reiterated Simon as he stood up. "You wot? String sides? Yer joking, come and stand between me legs," Brian spread his legs obligingly, "lets see." With Brian's hands feeling around his waist Simon felt the stirrings of an erection. "Cor, yer right, they're a bit odd ain't they?" said Brian running his hands around and then spinning Simon around so that his back was towards him. "And it feels like they got funny sorta string sides to 'em ain't they?" "Yeah, you silly bugger, that's wot I just fuckin' said innit? That's why they're called fuckin' string briefs innit!" "Cor, they go up a bit as well don't they?" Brian pulled Simon's red striped top out of the way to see the white waistband sticking well over the top of his shorts. "Fuckin' hell, don't remind me." said Simon dejectedly. "Everybody's gonna laugh their head off when the see's 'em ain't they?" "They might do the first time I `spose." "Oh fuck don't say that!" Simon groaned. "I knows they fuckin' will." "I think they will!" confirmed Brian with a grin. "Maybe we could swop one day?" "Swop forever, for all I fuckin' care!" Simon finally grinned. Unseen, Brian had a hand down the front of his own shorts to make matters, which were now coming to head more comfortable. "Can I pull 'em down and have a good look then, won't laugh I promise." "Why not, I `spose you gotta see 'em sometime." By the time the white shorts had been drawn slowly down over his hips to his knees, Simon found his erection was at full mast and understandably just couldn't resist squeezing it. "Better see the front." said Brian, pulling him around by the string side panels, to be confronted by the array of spunk stains from the previous afternoon's escapade with Art. "Thought you said they was new, looks like you've been wearing and wanking in 'em for a week!" "No, only since yesterday afternoon!" Simon looked down and started to giggle, his mood certainly improving. "Well bloody Art got me didn't he, for some reason he was so excited by 'em that he couldn't hold back and he cum and bloody cum all over 'em, they was soaked!" "Hhhmmm..." replied Brian leaning over to begin a careful examination. "Didn't help that I had a wank and slept in 'em as well!" Simon giggled again. "Well yer laughing about it now." Brian looked up. "Want something else to laugh about?" "Wot?" "Well, first you cop hold of this." said Brian reaching up the leg of his shorts to grab the head of his cock and pull into view. "Yeah!" Simon reached down and snatched at it. "Cor, the ends a bit sticky innit?" "But not as sticky you're gonna be in a minute!" replied Brian before quickly reaching into Simon's briefs and deftly threading the erection out through the fly. "Well get wanking then!" Simon looked down and grinned, then started to pull on the small circumcised head. "No, you get wanking `cause I'm gonna be sucking and sniffing!" Before Simon knew what had happened, Brian had performed his favourite act and leant over to take all of Simon's cock in his mouth. His face buried in the folds of the cum stained cotton and sniffing excitedly, his arm forced itself in past the elasticated leg opening between Simon's legs only to pause whilst one finger prodded at the wrinkled opening. Before the recent laundry hiatus caused by Simon, but since his last enforced parental talk in respect of semen stains, Art had been very careful about ejaculating in bed. In order not to leave any evidence he now wore a pair of old Y-fronts under his pyjama trousers and wrapped his cock in a handkerchief to absorb the emissions. Yet however nice it was to feel the squelchy material close to him, it hadn't taken more than a couple of nights before both the Y-fronts and handkerchief were pretty flagrant and coupled with his lack of personal hygiene ensured by the morning he smelt of sweat, boy and dried spunk. Luckily matters had improved somewhat when he adopted Richard's suggestion of wanking into a doubled over sock, improved that was, insofar as he still wore the disgusting Y-fronts and still used the same sock which had now become distinctively crunchy! That particular Saturday morning Art had woken at around eight in need of a pee, having returned to bed he then decided it was time for the first of his half dozen or so daily bouts of self-abuse. With the sock soon, it has to be said one he had worn earlier, filled to capacity, he slid it off and dropped it on the floor, confidently leaving his Y-fronts and pyjama trousers to absorb what was left and then returned to sleep. Amazingly through four inches of solid brickwork, Art's sixth sense woke him with the muffled voices in the adjacent room meaning that Simon had a visitor in his bedroom. Even with his bed next to the wall he was still unable to hear properly and lay there fondling his ever present erection pondering how best to burst in and hopefully catch Simon doing something he shouldn't! The more he fantasised the more excited he became, eventually reaching down to the floor and groping about he located the sock still wet with cold semen. ########################################################### Chap 129 to follow