Date: Wed, 18 Dec 2013 09:09:08 +0000 From: tom Subject: Brief Encounters Chapter 133 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 ############################################################################### >>>>>>>>>>> Christmas is coming and Santa will doubtless be disappearing up somebody's flue. However, that aside I hope all you avid readers have a fun time and will try to do something that I would that attempt which exceeds pulling your own cracker... Looking at the timing for the next posting it looks to me as though it falls around 1-2 Jan, so watch out for the next exciting episode and have a good time. T ############################################################################### Chapter 133 – Wot's this rudifuckingmentary thing? As was to be expected the boys had arrived in good time at the carpark. Weighed down with all manner of camping equipment some even useful, but the majority as insisted upon by doting parents, probably not. Quite why it seemed necessary to bring enough clothes designed for tropical climes to last a week for a three day camp, when the predicted weather was of monsoon variety only a mother could explain. Some boys had naturally brought certain items, which were most definitely not on the approved list, but conversely how else were they to have little fun! So with much excitement and much giggling at the thought of what was to come, the intrepid campers set off, the coached groaning under the mountain of camping equipment, luggage and the general accruements mandatory to any school jaunt. The trip to the castle, whilst only barely some thirty miles as the crow flew was estimated to take a couple of hours. That to the twenty or so sexually charged fifteen year old boys, each sat by his best friend proved something of an endurance test. With roving hands and little else to speculate upon, other than what was going to happen overnight under canvas was a test of will power versus premature ejaculation. Sadly, it was Richard who failed the test and being so excited couldn't help starting precum production very early on, making a not inconsiderable mess in his underpants and then being so embarrassed about it he didn't dare tell Robin sat next to him. "Pete, is this really going to be as bad as I think it's going to be?" Mr Hawkins turned to Mr Woods having just looked behind and seen the laughing faces down the body of the coach. "Jim, I can assure you after having done this for five years now, it will be even worse than you could possibly imagine but, invariably entertaining." "Oh god, that bad!" he smiled. "I knew the moment you said it was the fourth form and I said I'd help you out it was a mistake. My wife thinks I'm mad to teach them all day and then go away with them as well!" "So does mine, why do it every year she asks! Actually it's brilliant. The boys are great fun and there's always a major disaster, you'll have hysterics. There's just something about the fourth form, I don't know what it is except they appear to be are so generally disconnected everything other than with what's between their legs! One year we had one fall in the moat, then last year somebody opened a gate and a herd of cows came in and all but flattened the campsite." he laughed. "You've got a great sense of humour, you'll love it." "I'll pass judgement on loving it when it's over, but," he said with a grin. "but, do they really do any work?" "No! You're joking! We'll be lucky if we get anything that's remotely intelligible, but they do get to see the scale of the castle and defensive structures. Some of them have no idea of the size or magnitude of the stuff that was build so long ago, it puts it in context for them instead of just pretty pictures and words on the page. They do get given some fieldwork, but from that point on we live in hope!" "OK, I can understand that. So what about the domestic stuff," said Mr Hawkins, lowering his voice, "now seriously Pete who do we have to look out for? Any particular ones here to upset things? I see we have Clive Browne and his new mate Terry whatshisname ...uum Parsons, Clive can certainly be a pain in the ass at times and pick on the more vulnerable. "Actually not so much of late, this is intriguing as I've discovered he's the youngest of four brothers and I don't suppose there's more than eighteen months between any of them." he paused, "From what I can gather he's been bullied by them all in turn because he was the only with enough brainpower to get into this school, the rest were sent to the comprehensive." "Ah, that puts a slightly different light on it." "Yes it does. And, I hear on the grapevine their father is none too particular about dishing out a bit of old fashioned discipline either. So I'd guess that young Clive has merely being trying to assert his presence here in the only way he knows and quite understandably he's made no friends into the bargain." "Makes a lot of sense. But that said, have you also noticed over the last few weeks how he's hooked up with Parsons. It appears that since he actually has found a friend and is no longer the angry loner he's mellowed considerably, even some of the other kids that would normally run a mile now speak to him." "Well, it shows we are achieving something as social workers, even if the intake of knowledge is not always there!" Mr Hawkins smiled. "And, Parsons only came to us a year ago didn't he, he seemed a really very timid loner, wonder if he has had trouble at home?" "Possible, usually a good indicator. Strange how those two opposites have found something in each other. Still if it works and means they blend with their classmates then everybody wins." "I know, well that's the good news. Now, anybody else to worry about?" "Not really," Mr Woods turned and surveyed the faces, "quite the contrary really, they're a good bunch. You know I'm a bit of a softie for the ones that have had a hard time, so I do keep a look out for little Martin Sykes. I knew his father had died in an accident and have heard recently that his mother had thrown her new partner out of the house as he'd tried to knock Martin about." "I didn't know, I'm really sorry to hear that. Poor kid." "He was very upset at the time, I found him crying and he just confirmed it outright, seems Nigel Blake was good to him when it happened. Sad, he's a really nice boy." "Nigel eh? That's not the first time he's done something like that. I shouldn't admit this as I'm supposed to be the hardened games master but," he shook his head and smiled, "Art Weldon, what a boy! My god, he's in a world of his own! Apparently he'd been masturbating in class, well that's hardly new is it, especially in the fourth year! Anyway, he was sent to me by Bill James for a cold shower in preference to being sent to our illustrious head and we all know damn well, what that would mean." "Surely you don't mean incandescent letters to parents from our cane happy headmaster do you?" Mr Woods shook his head. "I didn't say that either of course!" "Of course you didn't, must be telepathy!" "Seriously, it's a shame he sometimes goes overboard with these stupid Victorian values, in all other respects he's a really excellent head and tries to move things on." "Couldn't agree more, I'll bet that's the discipline he was brought up with it and it`s not just illegal yet. It's no secret some teachers will do their best to avoid that sort of thing these days as we both I know. Things like that really have to stop." "Quite. Anyway, so what happened with poor Weldon? I think he's great, he just naturally bubbles with something and quite amazingly does seem to like history." "Yes, well he appeared almost crying for his punishment and I threw the first years out the gym as they were laughing at the poor boy, so at least he had his theoretical cold shower without an audience. D'you know I felt so sorry for him, I made it warm water, besides which Nigel Blake had come with him in and was acting like protective big brother who really begged me to help him." Mr Hawkins stopped for a second. "D'you know Pete, the bond between those two was terrific, it really got to me. Poor Weldon was just demolished, his towel fell down and the had another erection, the poor kid he didn't know what to do. Anyway we had very tearful chat after and he just admitted he knew he was a chronic masturbator, how many admit to that! We even agreed I could speak with his father if it would help, he thought it was so nice I cared, he nearly had me crying as well!. And, what a really nice bloke his father is, he knew the problem and wasn't angry but just promised to do what he could. Don't think I've felt so sorry for a kid like before." "There's always one that gets to you." "Well, he certainly got to me." "Talking of getting there," Mr Woods looked out the window, "it won't be long now and then we will have the pleasure of supervising the shambolic ceremony of the tents. I can assure you that is something you really have to look forward to, particularly as at least one of them is bound to collapse overnight!" "Is that all or dare I ask is there anything else I should know?" said Mr Hawkins trying not laugh. "Oh god no, you're joking. That's not all. There's worse to come and please don't laugh outloud." he tried to keep a straight face. "When you set up your own tent I would strongly advise you to do it few yards away from the boy's tents." "But surely we want to be close in case of trouble or something?" "Oh no, no! I made that mistake on the very first trip! You need to be just far enough away so you can't hear the voices." Mr Woods grinned, lent over and whispered. "Jim, putting it bluntly they're fifteen, sleeping in tents with their best mates do you really think at lights out they are going to go to cuddle a teddy and go to sleep! It, whatever it is, goes on until they can do it no more!" "Oh I see!" Mr Hawkins grinned. "Sorry Pete, I've been a bit naive. I've never done a trip like this before, I should have guessed. Well, what the hell, it's all part of growing up isn't it." "Of course it is, we were their age once and probably did much the same." he turned around to look up to the back of the bus. "Well it's about time I'd better make the usual announcements as it won't be long before we're there. I just hope it doesn't rain till the tents are set up." The boys gradually quietened down as they saw Mr Woods standing in the aisle. "Right lads, we're going to be there shortly and I think in view of the look of the weather it would be good if we just got on with putting the tents up as soon as we arrive. So I hope you have all had a lesson in how to erect you own tent?" "I can erect me own tent Sir!" the word erect, brought outright laughter and several sniggers. "If that's if who I think it is young James Lanin, I would guess that's not all you can erect! In fact as you are such an expert I'm going to make you tent erector in chief. When a tent falls down in the middle of the night, as it undoubtedly will you, you are going to be the lucky one get out of your nice warm bed and help sort it out!" "Oh Sir that ain't fair." "Oh Sir, nothing." Mr woods grinned. "It's perfectly fair, since it sounds to me you're the one with the most tent erection experience! Are the rest of you happy with that?" The laughter and shouts of confirmation echoed round the coach. In the front seat Mr Hawkins was smiling to himself, quite obviously Mr Woods who was not unknown for his wit had been through all this before and knew all the answers. "Is it a nice pretty field Sir?" "It's delightfully green with grass and possibly some cow pats." he raised his eyebrows. "So careful where you pitch your tent and don't get them too close together or you will find there isn't enough room for either the guy ropes or more importantly for you lot to be able to walk between them." "Cor, is Guy Fawkes coming then sir?" "Usually by the third day I begin to wish he would, because he could blow the place sky high and I could go home!" "That's not very nice sir!" the laughter was rising "Maybe not. But after three days stuck with you lot in a field it can seem a very inviting prospect!" "Wot? You don't mean' us Sir?" "Yes, I means us Sir. Now listen closely. " he waved his arms to silence them again. "You and your parents have all been all advised that since this is only a very short trip, the camp site is most definitely not five star. Which reminds me, don't pitch your tent down the bottom of the slope or you may get flooded if it rains! You might say the word, rudimentary sums up this campsite. "If I knew wot it meant I might!" that brought a howl of laughter. "So d'you mean it's a sorta one star camp site then Sir?" the comment was accompanied by laughter. "No," Mr Woods laughed with them, but the joke was on them. "no, it's definitely not a one star camp site, in fact if I were honest I would rate it as a half star!" "Bleeding hell!" came voice from the back. "Language please." "A half star Sir?" repeated the voice quietly. "You is joking ain't you Sir?" "No, Sir is not joking. Possibly a two thirds star at most, certainly no more." he smiled, "Just think of it as an adventure! There's a nice friendly farmer who has provided certain basic amenities solely intended for the use of schools to visit the castle and it's only a couple of hundred yards away across the field, no long walks are involved." "It's got a bog though Sir has it?" the voice sounded anxious. "If you mean a toilet, well the ones at castle gave up a few hundred years ago! But, the campsite, well, uumm, yes." he paused. "well, there is a toilet block, just think rudimentary again. Now, uumm.. it's connected to a cess pit so, uumm.. well if it gets over used well, uum... well, it's probably best not to think about that!" "Oh shit!" said Harry loudly. "Precisely Harry!" "How many bogs Sir, there ain't just one is it?" asked Harry, seemingly having a thing about public toilets. "How many do you need?" replied Mr Woods doing his best to sound serious and drawing another bout of laughter. "There's three, maybe four I think, is that enough for you!" "This pit thing Sir, that they's all connected to this, so this pit thing, it don't go bang or nothing when it's full up do it Sir?" "Not as yet, no!" Mr Hawkins was now having great difficulty in containing his laughter. Maybe the next few days would indeed be as entertaining as Mr Woods had thought. "And, there are showers and wash basins, but again possibly a little rudimentary and do remember they are also connected to the cess pit!" "Wot's this rudifuckingmentary thing he keeps on about?" Art nudged Nigel. Nigel picked a scab off the dead pustule on his chin and thought for several moments. "I think it means, it's all shit!" "Like the overflowing bogs! Oh fuck!" Art dissolved into uncontrollable laughter, soon taking Nigel with him. "Fuck all that lot, it might be better to go for a shit in the hedge!" Nigel grinned. "And finally, most importantly food." waving a hand for silence Mr Woods once again looked down the length of the coach. "Is there a chip shop Sir." "Alas, no!" Mr Woods smiled benignly. "Sorry boys, I wish there was." The entire coach groaned. "There is a large room at the field centre with tables to eat at or use in bad weather for doing some work. We also have a sort of barbecue cooker thing that runs on calor gas, a big fridge, even a sink and hot water for washing up." From the horrified looks of the boys he could tell some had never been camping before, maybe it was time for some reassurance. "So, well" he looked around again, plainly for the majority this was going to be a brave new world, "so how many of you have ever been camping before? Put your hand up." Barely half a dozen hands waved tentatively in the air. "Ah, I see. So to most of you this is new experience." he smiled. "Right well so now following on from that, be honest and hands up those of you who have never been away from home on your own before?" Mr Hawkins turned to see the reaction, he smiled almost every hand in the coach was partly wavering in the air. The boys were looking furtively around to see if they had been the only one to be brave enough to admit it was their first time away from home. Maybe being a fourth year and being away for the very first time didn't quite match the image of bravado that was generally portrayed. "OK lads. Look, it seems that really none of you have been away before. I know there's a first time for everything so don't be worried or anything like that." he looked at Mr Hawkins, then back to the boys and smiled. "Maybe for some of you this might seem a bit odd, first time away from home, especially with such a basic camp site as well. It'll be fun, possibly more so if the rain keeps off but I can't control that." Strangely the coach had fallen silent. "Now I'd be very disappointed if any of you didn't think that by now you couldn't approach either Mr Hawkins or myself anytime if you feel you need to talk about something and I mean anything. We've both survived our own teenage boys so I think we know what it's all about and I mean all and any problems you may have." Nigel nudged Art. "I think he means his kids were little wankers as well!" "Never!" Art put forefinger and thumb together. "Now, I know it's only a few days, but you never know you might feel homesick or whatever. So, any problems you come to us, you got it? Your safety and well-being are paramount, it's what we are here for. Is that alright with you, you understand?" After some murmuring and the realisation that despite the promise of unfettered nocturnal masturbation, two or three decided they already felt just a tiny, weeny little bit homesick already! "Now boys listen," Mr Hawkins stood up, "you are here to enjoy yourselves and like Mr Woods has said, if there is anything that worries you at all you must come and see one of us. I can promise you if you do come to me I won't make you run round the field or have a cold shower! In fact, we are leaving the question of when you wash up to you, you're all old enough to know when you need one." "Good, `cause if they fuckin' showers sounds like the exploding bogs, I'll fuckin' wait till I gets home!" said Nigel firmly. "Hey Nige, d'know," Art nudged Nigel and whispered, "I could talk to him, old Hawkins, honest. He fuckin' understands. He's fuckin' luvly, he really is. He was fuckin' wonderful to me when I got sent for that fuckin' cold shower and that." "I know he was. Is you alright, why you blinking?" Nigel tried to take his hand without being seen. "You don't have to tell me `cause I knows he's nice as well." "Don't start me off." Art smiled, his eyes were a bit watery, but it was still it was one of those smiles. He held Nigel's hand. " `cause I'm happy and I'm gonna be with you for three nights!" "Fuck! Don't get me going as well, I've been hard since we left the fuckin' carpark!" "D'you think I ain't noticed that. Course you have, so've I!" "Right lads," Mr Woods waved a hand then pointed at Mr Hawkins, "you hear that, now Mr Hawkins, he speak not with fork tongue, so any problems and I mean any problems you come straight to one of us." That brought a release in the form of general laughter. "Finally," continued Mr Woods, "finally we come to the important bit... food!" "Yum yum.." muttered Richard, already overweight! "I hope you all brought something picnic-wise to eat this lunchtime as we asked you to. Tonight we have enough goodies to make a barbecue so you won't be going hungry. Understandably for the rest of the time here I don't want to be a cook for you lot so we have, as in previous years arranged with a very good local cafe to supply with midday snacks and something hot for teatime." He looked at the sea of blank faces, now again surprisingly quiet, "There is nothing to worry about the food will be fine and there's plenty of it, besides to the best of my knowledge nobody has died on one of these trips yet!" "Wot's for the barbecue then Sir?" "Usual sort of thing, the local butcher in town made us a large pack of sausages, hamburgers couple of gallons on tomato sauce and all that unhealthy barbecue type stuff, will that do?" "Chips Sir?" "No chips. No chip shop remember!" "Oh." "Now just relax, you know you're not going to do a lot of work and you'll be surprised to know that even we know you're not going to do a lot of work." he smiled. "So as long as you at least try and have a bit of fun that's what this is about." He sat down only to stand up once again. "One more thing, has anybody here not been able to acquire an airbed, just like the one you use on the beach?" The muttering seemed to be affirmative. "Good that's something. Now that reminds me. I know some of you don't have sleeping bags since for a one off camping trip it like this it would be a bit of an extravagance,. You were told to bring a decent blanket and a sheet, so when your tents are up I will show you how to make a very nice sleeping bag using some enormous ex-army safety pins I have acquired!" "Sorta like gert nappy pins Sir?" "Yes Loxely, if you need a nappy as well as a sleeping bag, I'm sure I can make you one!" Letting the laughter subside he pointed out the window carefully ignoring the leaden sky. "Look, there's the outline of the castle, we'll be there in a few minutes, so get ready to unload everything and get that tent up as soon as you can, got it!" "Wot! Wass want?" Ian who had been listening, but leaning against the window with eyes closed suddenly stirred on feeling his hand being gripped. "He's a luvly bloke." whispered Martin leaning right over. "Who? Oh Woody, yeah, sorry I wasn't thinking. I've always thought that. And, old Hawkins, he was great with Art when he'd been caught wanking in class." replied Ian. "Sorry mate, but what makes you say that now?" "Uumm..." the hand squeezed tighter and the voice became croakier, "well, after mum had kicked that bastard Frank out, I was pretty upset, wot with no dad and all that.." "Yeah, I remember, go on take yer time and tell me, I ain't going nowhere am I?" "And, and, sometimes I used to go and hide a bit, to sorta think it through, well," Martin's eyes were filling up, "well I dunno how, but he found me by the locker room crying. He just talked to me and that, like he was a real dad... then, then he gave me gert big hug and said if I ever wanted him to talk to mum or something he'd do anything to help." "Oh shit! Cor, that's nice innit." Ian blinked several times as Martin rubbed his eyes on the back of his sleeve with his free arm, still holding Ian's hand with his other. "I'll bet you sometime this week he'll find time to ask me how I'm doing," Martin sniffed, "he does it every two or three weeks." "And, I wanna tell you something," Ian looked around to see if they were being overheard, he lowered his voice, "last night I couldn't stop thinking about you." "You did?" "Course I bloody did, I had a wank when I went to bed with a finger up me bum, thinking it was you!" he blushed. "That's wot I did as well!" Martin giggled and squeezed the hand again. "And, this morning I wanked in me pants as well, ready for us to swop like we said." "But it didn't end there `cause I woke for a piss about four o'clock and when I got back in bed I did it again, it squirted all over me bed by mistake!" Martin couldn't quite believe what he was hearing, "Wot you mean wanking over me, twice? I know we talked about each other the other week, but didn't think you was that sorta serious `cause I remember telling you I thought I was queer." "Well I am serious, it's you innit? Who else?" Ian just looked into his eyes, both blinked. "And this morning when I woke, just like you I put me pants on and wanked into them, so we really swop like we said we would!" "Yeah, course. Oh fuck! Three times, all `cause of me?" Martin just looked, he'd known Ian had liked him, but this seemed to be going somewhere else. "You're, you're... very special.." Ian dried up. "No I ain't." "You is. Fuck!" Martin swallowed and tried to bring the conversation back from going too deep. "D'you think we can really wear 'em and keep wanking in them for the three days? Won't we smell a bit?" "I don't care, I wants you. You. D'you understand?" Ian forced him to make eye contact. "And, well, I want you." Martin's voice was barely audible, his smile and the tears that followed confirmed he meant it. "I really means it." Ian rubbed his eyes and pulled his fingers from Martin's grip to reach over and press hard on the lump in his jeans. "I don't care if we does smell, we'll try and swop as soon as we got the tent up, then we'll be having a bit of each other with us won't we? Mine is still a bit damp." "Please, please, take yer hand off me cock before I cums!" Martin glanced around. Leaning over he pecked Ian on the cheek, tasting the salt of tears. "You know I think I'm queer?" "Yeah, you keep fuckin' saying that. So wot, fuck it Mart, maybe I am as well!" Ian bit his lip he was so happy. "But we still don't know really wot being queer is do us? I want you, you wants me and I don't fuckin' care wot it's called." "Ian," said Martin leaning closer, "when I was with Nige, I told him we'd discussed the thing about you, me, him and Art. Was that alright?" "Of course it was, we both want it don't we. I, I, uumm..." Ian paused there was one word he had been trying say, finally he forced himself to say it, "I, I.. I love all of you.. but tonight I just want you for meself." Martin took a deep breath, turned slowly away took look out at the blackened sky as he wiped his eyes on the back of his hand. After the coach has disgorged it's excited human cargo and left, what should have taken about forty minutes to get the tents up had taken a good and hour and a half. Rather frazzled after a hectic hands-on bivouacking class, the two teachers stood back to appraise the boys handiwork, a motley collection of tents, old, new and barely serviceable which were scattered haphazardly in the corner of the field. Some tents were obviously erected with great precision, their inhabitants having evidently received formal training by doting parents. Sadly, others looked vulnerable in the extreme and highly susceptible to the slightest gust of wind, leaning far from the perpendicular with sagging guy ropes that couldn't be better positioned for tripping the unwary. "Bloody hell Pete!" said Mr Hawkins quietly. "If we get a thunderstorm or something some of these are going to be in real trouble." "I know that, you know that, but you can only tell them and offer to help out so many times can't you?" "True. What was that Sinatra song, I'll do it my way!" He grinned an indicated to a sagging example of canvas. "Look at Richard Jones' effort he's convinced he's got it right and he won't hear a word against it." "It's like the leaning tent of Pizza!" Mr Hawkins started to laugh. "They'll just have to get wet when it falls down later tonight, it won't be the first time or the last!" Mr Woods laughed as well. "Just look at them though. Happily hopping about trying to help each other and they don't have clue what they're doing! Don't you just love them at this age? It's just pure dysfunctional chaos!" "You're certainly right there!" "Seriously Jim, give it another couple of years and some of them will have found it's a big bad world out there and their childhood has gone for good. I take the view the fourth year is their last year before life gets that much harder with exams and some maybe having to leave to get a job all that. It's silly trips like this that they will remember, so let them to enjoy it. They're loving the experience of mucking in together and all that, anyway it's really teamwork good for them." "Teamwork id a bit of a misnomer, but I couldn't agree more, it'll do them a power of good. I have to say though, you seem even softer than I am with them!" "I know that, it's what my own kids say! But it's why we're here isn't it?" he smiled. "However, that said we have to get back to reality and keep our teacher's hats on because I'll bet some of them have brought packets of fags, sneaked in a bottle or two and will have some sort of mischief planned." "Now, suppose we have a quick tent inspection, just to see they don't collapse immediately and get them to sort out their stuff in the tents before it starts to really pour down," said Mr Hawkins, "and we can nip off and brew up a cup of tea." "Excellent idea, your turn to tell them for a change!" "Boys, listen," Mr Hawkins clapped his hands to get their attention, "we're just going to have a very quick look around to see if the tents appear to be put up more or less correctly, do notice that Mr Lanin, I didn't say your favourite word!" That brought a roar of laughter and James blushed. "And then, since many of you have never been camping before I strongly suggest you sort out your stuff in the tent now whilst it's still daylight. Come nightfall and you won't be able to find a thing, besides which you'll find torch batteries don't last very long! It's taken longer than we thought to get you lot organised and I know it's bit late, so why don't you eat the packed lunch you brought with you while you sort out the inside of the tent. So let's say in an hour we'll all meet in the field centre and tell you what's planned for while we are here. If it's not raining then we'll have a quick look around the castle." "And boy's," said Mr Woods waving his hands for silence, "since we are in the middle of a field and we all knew that rain was forecast, did you all bring your wellies and some sort of waterproof coat? Hands up anyone who forgot." Not a single hand went up, the teachers looked at each other in amazement. "Well done! That's first! Right then, we'll do a quick tour of inspection then you can eat and get yourselves sorted." Mr Woods grinned. "If you find you have any problems with your tent tell Mr Lanin, as erector in chief and he will then find us so we can sort matters out!" Amongst the laughter James blushed yet again now wishing he'd never the comment about erecting his tent, plainly he wasn't going to live it down. The inspection didn't take very long. What with the sky getting darker, plus odd, large spots of rain beginning to fall and none of the tents looking as though collapse were that imminent the two teachers headed for the peace of the field centre leaving the boys popping in and out of their tents like excited rabbits. "Nige," whispered Art, crawling in and pulling the entrance flaps down behind him to put the tent in semi-darkness, "don't say nothing, but look wot I got?" "Wot? It's a bit fuckin' hard to see anything now you've closed the bleeding door!" "Piss off!" Laughing Nigel crawled over to sit on Art's half inflated air bed to watch him delving into the depths of his rucksack. "Wot? That all you brought to wear, looks only two shirts, socks and a pair of dirty white pants to me!" "Don't you think that's enough?" Art sounded worried, being trusted to pack for the trip on his own quite naturally he'd forgotten most of what he needed! "Don't look much for three days does it?" "Well I did forget me pyjamas.. pullover... spare jeans and all that!" now he looked as worried as he sounded. "I didn't bring me nice coloured pants `cause I though they might get sorta ruined, so I found me old pair and the ones you lent me. I don't think mum noticed!" "So really, all you got is wot yer dressed in and yer gonna wear yer two dirty pairs of pants night and day for the three days?" "Mmmhhh... oh shit! Course, I ain't got no pyjamas have I? So yeah, all the time even I `spose! Ain't enough is it?" Art pulled a face, it seemed like his packing had been something of a major miscalculation. "Not with you wanking over everything all the time." Nigel giggled. "You've heard the old expression, sticks like shit to a blanket?" "Yeah." "I think for you it could be, sticks like spunk to a blanket! So don't let your mum see it when you gets back home!" "Oh shit!" "Anyway, my mum made sure I was properly packed, even after all that row I had with her about getting things washed," Nigel grinned, "but I was clever see, `cause I fuckin' guessed you'd be wanting to rip 'me clothes off and I so sneaked in me really old pants, not that they ain't no better than me others!" "Could you lend us a pair, please?" Art's eyes opened wide , he smiled. "You cunt, don't look at me like that!" he turned away. "Alright, you can lend the pair with the hole in the ass!" "The hole in the ass?" unknown to Art it couldn't have been more appropriate that Nigel had brought them. "Wot's been doing with 'em then?" "Just a gert carrot the other night!" Nigel grinned. "Never mind that, wot is it d'you want me to see, wot you got hidden in yer bag, you ain't said yet?" "I pinched it out the garage, I think dad puts it on the car battery or something. It's for you, well for us, `cause I'm gonna be very brave, `cause I keep saying we're gonna try and tonight we really is.." "We is? We.. you don't mean.. oh fuck... really! Wot it is you got then?" Nigel excitedly interrupted. Art produced an opaque plastic pot from the bottom of his bag. "You brought Vaseline! D'you mean, for you and me!" "Yes, you and me, it's meant to be the slippy stuff innit? I really, really want you to cum in me." Art sounded very emotional. "D'you think yer cock might slip up if we used this stuff?" "You ain't never tried wanking with it then! Slippy ain't the word!" "No, I would have, but I'd forgot he had it." Nigel just grabbed Art, put both arms around him and kissed him long and hard on the lips. They parted, with little kissing technique saliva dripped from both their chins. Art just smiled, again one of those smiles. Nigel was doomed, tears of happiness ran down his cheeks as he reached for Art's hand. He was ecstatic "I've never done it to nobody yet." "I know `cause yer fuckin' cocks too big innit! I trusts you not to hurt me and if we uses this stuff it might help it slip in a bit. We'll have to be dead fuckin' quiet mind," continued Art in a whisper, "and, I might have to a wank first, `cause I don't think I can hold on till it's bedtime!" #################################################################### Chapter 134 to follow