Date: Thu, 14 Jul 2011 22:21:53 +0100 From: tom Subject: Brief Encounters Chap 77 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 ****************************************************************************** ======== | || | \ //\\ / \____/ >>>>>>>>>>> PLEASE NOTE <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< July 2011 Please note what with summer holdays and all the rest of it the fortnightly posting routine may go up the creek, but then again it may not!!!! Whatever, I should be back on schedule posting regularly again by end August or so in the meantine just keep checking, ******************************************************************************* Chapter 77 -- The weekend draws nigh "So wot's think about that then?" Simon proudly leaned back against the wall. "Shit!" Tom and Alex looked at each other in amazement. Brian was unable to resist rather blatantly squeezing the front of his shorts as he visualised exchanging some soggy underpants on the top deck of a bus. David was the first to speak. "Wot's this boy Ian look like then?" "Bit taller than Art, bit thinner, sorta fairish hair and..." Simon turned and scoured the playground trying to see if he was there, "and, I knows his mum always wants him looking smart." "Well so does mine." said Joe. "Bet she don't iron yer pants though, `cause his do!" Simon grinned. "I heard him say that to Art and he's right pissed off with being made to look tidy all the time." "Well don't give me mum ideas like that!" Joe looked over the playground. "D'you see him?" "Nah." Simon shook his head. "But one things for sure, he won't be fuckin' looking very smart if he's wearing Art's filthy clobber." The more David thought about what he had just heard, the more aroused he was becoming. The facts had to be confirmed once more. "So let's get this right then. You'd just pissed over Art by accident when this Ian had surprised you, then Art cums all over his clothes and that Ian wants to swop with Art and wear his pissy, cummy pants and trousers home." he paused. "That right?" "Yeah, about it." Simon nodded. "Then we gets off the bus and starts going home, but our trousers keep slipping down." "Because Art's too fat to do Ian's up and," David, was loving ever moment of this, "the clasp on yours had been broke by Art." "Right." he nodded again. "Then when you get's home you and Art take turns to wear Ian's pants.." added Joe. "Them Wolsey X things." confirmed Simon interrupting. "And they was all nice and white, you could see all the marks on `em!" "Marks?" asked Joe excitedly. "Pee and that." "Then you takes turns to wear and wank in 'em under yer shorts and that?" asked David excitedly. "And then you thinks Art wore 'em all night as well?" "Wouldn't you?" Simon grinned. "Course." "And I know," continued Simon, "today he's wearing Ian's trousers `cause his blazers all done up to hide the fact he's too fuckin' fat to fit into `em!" "And them pants as well?" "Course. He loves 'em all cummy like that. Wouldn't you?" "Uumm..." Joe blushed. "There he is, there.. look," interrupted Brian pointing to the far side of the playground, "he's with... uumm.. Nigel and Martin, innit?" "Yeah, I see," Joe stared into the distance, "and yer right, look his blazers all buttoned up." "Well he had to keep holding them trousers up yesterday, so maybe he's got a bit of string tied round 'em now!" Simon laughed. "He's fuckin' hopeless isn't he?" "Might be fuckin' hopeless," said Tom, "but at least you gotta brother. Wish I did." Alex just looked, smiled and said nothing. "Well I gotta little brother and he's turned into a right little wanker!" said Brian. "Wonder where he got that idea from?" David watched Brian's undulating shorts. "Watching him, innit!" said Tom. "Any minute and he'll be cumming in his pants like Art does!" "Gimme a couple of minutes and I could!" the liberated Brian grinned. "Wot about doing something dinner time somewhere, these morning breaks just ain't long enough." "Couple of minutes! Fuck, wot takes you so long?" asked Alex. "Well, looks like the usual bog dinner time then?" Joe felt in his pocket to confirm he knew he was already getting a hard on. "Sort of practice for Sunday, I spose." said Tom smiling. "Come on let's go, double physics now innit Alex?" Outside, leaning against the wall around the corner from the science block Art had just finished telling of his own adventure with Ian and Simon on the bus journey home and how he had acquired Ian's clothes. That was followed up by a very graphic description of Simon's fascination with Ian's briefs and their mutual clothed wank along with the subsequent telling off he had received from his father. Having listened to that and caught glimpses of Art playing with himself through the hole in his pocket it was no great surprise that by the end all three had very obvious erections. If reliving that hadn't been erotic enough for Art it was followed, much to his delight by a jointly told version of Martin and Nigel's bus trip which ending in Martin's bedroom, although the fact they were thrown off the bus rather quickly glossed over. It concluding with the Tizer saga and Martin being discovered asleep by his mother, Art though made Martin repeat in great detail the condition he was in when he woke up. Not unnoticed by Nigel, on the second telling of Martin's embarrassing predicament Art's fingers were rapidly moving through the hole in the trouser pocket. As Art had guessed from the slime around the end of his cock a wet spot had already started forming inside the already stained briefs. "Bleeding hell Mart, you're fuckin' lucky. Cor, wish my mother was bit more understanding like that." said Nigel. "So that was it then? Nothing else was said?" "No." "Lucky you." said Art. "No, she didn't." replied Martin. "But I still can't look her in the face after catching me like that though." "You will. Don't worry about it." said Nigel. "Hey, I've said just remembered. the funniest thing was that she was afraid I'd be getting girls in trouble!" "Well you can fuck me anytime and get me in trouble!" said Art with a grin. "Looks like yer fuckin' yerself at the minute!" observed Nigel. "Didn't you do it when you got up this morning?" "Mmmh, well." Art nodded, "But I could do it again right now as well." " `spose I could as well." Nigel grinned. "Well talking about that," said Martin looking around to see if anybody could overhear, he lowered his voice, "Nige thought a threesome might be fun and I gotta get something bigger than a couple of fingers up me ass so, wot's think Art.. would you do it?" "You had to ask!" Art laughed. "Right now if you want, get 'em down! Just tell me when and where!" "Well you can ask Ian as well, he's finally bloody arrived!" said Nigel pointing to his left. "Where the fuck you been?" asked Art turning and rather surprised to see Ian smartly dressed in his own clothes. "Oh fuck, you ain't got 'em, where's me clothes?" "Oh shit I'm sorry Art, it's a fuckin' long story! Me dad keeps wanting to have little chats with me about growing up.." "So?" replied Art puzzled at what Ian's father had to do with it. "Wanking you mean?" asked Nigel. "That's not wot he calls it, but yeah that's about it. Especially after yesterday when me mum caught me as I was cumming in yer pants!" he looked at Art and pulled a face. "Mine you means? Wot me black pants, you cum in 'em... oh fucking hell!" Art started giggle, "But they'd had about few loads in 'em already!" "I know.. and so does me mum now!" Ian had to grin. "I was covered in cum, so was yer pants and everything else. Then the silly cow pretended she ain't see nothing and there's me cock dribbling right in front of her! She's so prim and fuckin' proper you wouldn't believe it!" That brought a peal of raucous laughter. "So me dad has to talk to me later on don't he?" Ian shook his head. " `cause she told him to, but he don't really know what to say so I just told him I was having a big wank like wot other boys do!" "Wot, you actually said you was having a wank?" asked Martin giggling. "Yer, just like that! Anyway, he wanted to give me lift in this morning and talk some more. But, the fuckin' car got a fuckin' puncture and now I'm fuckin' late and he had to scribble a fuckin' note and all that fuckin' stuff!" he drew breath, "and I'm fuckin' pissed off with it all!" Another bout of laughter followed. "Art listen, `cause I'm really sorry to have to tell you this," Ian paused trying not to laugh, "but my dear mummy is going to wash your smelly, sticky black pants and trousers so I can give 'em back to you all fuckin' clean and pressed tomorrow. She might even do it by hand to get all the stains out!" A roar of laughter positively erupted. As the noise died down it was a very red faced Art who looked at Ian with a look of total disbelief. "Wot! Your mum's washing me pants? Not with her hands?" he asked slowly. "Does she know who's they are and... and... wot's all over `em?" "Dunno, I ain't asking her, but you can! Be bad enough when she hands 'em back to me tomorrow all nicely ironed won't it, wot am I supposed to say then!" "Oh fuck me!" said Art imaging one fine day his mother getting to meet Ian's mother! "I've already offered!" said Martin grinning. "So, wot you wearing now," Ian looked down at Art's trousers, "oh shit, you're not still wearing my stuff from yesterday are you? I'm sorry." "It's all right, trousers is a bit tight though and I had to find an old belt." Art grinned, "It's fuckin' horny really, `cause yer pants ain't really staying up `cause Simon's had a wank in 'em and pulled 'em about a bit!" "Wot, little Simon, him on the bus?" Ian was shocked. "Yer, he can't half wank for a little `un!" replied Art performing a pincer movement by rubbing the front of the trousers with one hand, the other deep inside the pocket feeling for the hole. "Don't forget they've had about four loads from me as well!" "It's gonna be fuckin' five the way you're going!" said Nigel trying not laugh and pointing to the growing gap at the top of the bulging fly and the exposed waistband of the briefs. "You let Simon wank in 'em as well?" asked Martin staring down at Art's bulge. "Fuckin' hell I think we all ought to wear 'em and have a wank in 'em then!" "Fuck me!" exclaimed Ian. "Don't you dare get 'em washed or nothing, I want 'em back like they are!" "You really want a good fuckin' ?" Nigel smiled and pushed his tenting fly towards Ian. "Well I'd fuck you anytime, but I thinks Mart wants to have a go at me first!" Art looked towards Martin as he spoke, who felt a tingle of excitement run down his spine. "Oh I do. I really fuckin' do!" he replied sounding as though it were a joke. It was no joke as his cock confirmed by lurched in the pale blue Y-fronts and leaving another streak of precum. Almost as if to draw attention to himself Art then said to Ian. "And I can feel you got a little hole in yer pocket, haven't you?" Ian might have blushed, but all eyes had turned towards Art and the frenzied action in the trouser pocket. The zip, slowly going down with strain of all the activity was allowing the fly to gradually open and expose more and more wet, stained white cotton. For Art's friends, being assiduous students of dirty underwear it was highly erotic as they waited expectantly for the first sight of his drooling organ to appear in view. Consumed by sex, Art's mind was focused on his much abused cock which had been more or less constantly erect since the last lesson the previous afternoon. From his actions it was plain to those around him that now on an another of his unstoppable rolls he and had no inhibitions. Having rediscovered the small hole in the lining it seemed at best that only two fingers could get through. Nobody seemed to hear the faint rip as the pocket lining gave way under the pressure allowing Art to push his hand though and grope for the slimy fly of the briefs. At first just watching the hand movements was exciting enough, but more satisfaction was required. Soon Art's actions were being mirrored to prove he wasn't the only one with a growing wet spot on his underpants, although he was definitely in pole position! Nigel was about to make a pithy observation on the rapidly degenerating state of Art's uniform when the lesson bell rang out immediately killing any chance of being heard. "Aaawwwwwhhhh..." cried Art immediately following on from Nigel's equally silent comment before suddenly doubling up and clutching wildly at his stomach. Several hands grabbed at Art thinking he had been taken ill and was going to collapse as the bell continued to ring rendering all conversation useless. "Fuckin' hell kid, wot's happened? You all right?" shouted Nigel trying to pull him upright and lean back against the wall. "That fuckin' bells deafening!" added Martin stating the blindingly obvious as he watched Nigel and Ian prop Art back up against the wall. "It's a fuckin' appendix or something innit?" said Ian, seeing that close up Art really did look pretty awful and had now broken out in a sweat. Martin however, being a little more astute and in possession of further highly attuned diagnostic skills stood back as the bell stopped to take stock of the situation. Seconds later he burst into a fit of uncontrolled laughter which took Nigel and Ian totally by surprise. "Wot you fuckin' laughing at?" asked Nigel rather surprised at the apparent lack of compassion. "Well, come and fuckin' look here!" Martin pointed a wobbly finger at Art in between guffaws of laughter. "Wot? Wot's fuckin' mean then? Yer, Ian you fuckin' hold him up a minute or he'll fall over!" Nigel pushed Art, rather like a sack of potatoes towards Ian and stood back as instructed. He looked, turned to Martin and then looked again. "Oh fuckin' hell Art... you... you fuckin' cunt!" Now with both Martin and Nigel rolling around with laughter, Ian abandoned Art to slump against the brickwork and rushed over to join Nigel to see what was so funny. Scarcely able to breath and crying with laughter Art was barely managing to stand up without support. The old elasticated belt dangled from a couple of belt loops around the trousers, the S clasp lay on the ground having allowed the trousers to drop well below his thighs. Without the belt, the zip aggravated by the energetic masturbation had evidently given up the unequal struggle and allowed the trousers to fall revealing the disgusting mess that were Ian's once immaculate white Wolsey X briefs. Shapeless and soaking wet with cum they sagged below Art's balls serving only to frame his red twitching cock and the long string of cum which swung ever downward. Martin took a very deep breath and willed himself not to cum on the spot. The temptation to get his cock out then and there and stuff it up Art's moist hole was incredible. Most definitely a supreme bedtime fantasy in the making. "Fuck!" Nigel also took a deep breath and paused. "Art, you bastard just wot is about you that makes you so fuckin' sexy?" "Mart's fuckin' right!" said Ian who, hand in pocket was very slowly and deliberately rubbing the spot of precum which had formed on the head of his cock into the crisp white cotton of his underpants. "We gotta take it in turns to cum in them pants!" "Not now! Don't forget the fuckin' bells just gone!" said Martin desperately trying to get the picture of Art out of mind. He failed. Unable to resist looking once more he stared at the oozing head of Art's cock wondering if it would slip up him without too much pain. And when? "You bugger, so why d'you grab yer guts then? We all thought you was fuckin' ill." asked Nigel watching out of the corner of his eye the last few boys hurrying from the playground. "That's when the fuckin' belt broke innit?" Art was still laughing, "I went to grab me bloody trousers as they fell down and shot me fucking load instead!" "Don't forget," said Ian who still looking excitedly at the stained briefs, "them's my clothes you've been cumming in!" "I'll get 'em washed and that, promise." replied Art struggling to pull the sticky briefs up over his erection. "Hey," exclaimed Ian, "wot's them blue marks on me pants?" Art looked down and started giggling. "Quink!" "Quink fuckin' ink innit! Dirty sod, look at him, he's been wanking with inky fingers!" added Nigel laughing. "It'll wash out, always does or the whole bleeding school would be blue! You ever had a pen that don't leak then?" "No. Oh, well.." Ian paused and grinned, "so don't wash them pants then, I want 'em like they are!" This was definitely the new Ian speaking, the one that had rediscovered himself as having a fetish to wear other boys dirty underwear. "I could be interested in trying 'em on as well." Martin winked at Ian who having realised what he had just admitted was blushing. "No need for that," Nigel put a hand on his shoulder and whispered, "I think we all understands the attraction." "There, look." said Art proudly. "That alright?" "Yeah, sort of." Nigel looked rather worried, too late now. With the grubby, crumpled shirt stuffed in around the waistband, tie askew and the blazer rebuttoned Art considered he had now finished dressing. However, without the belt the zip was now the only structural item holding up the trousers, a very important point which everyone except Art seemed to appreciate. "Come on or we'll be late and don't wanna get in more trouble." Martin was already picking up his bag. "We got French now ain't we Ian? Wot you got Nige?" "Uummm... geography, then maths before dinner break, innit Art?" Nigel sounded rather absent minded with his eyes focused on the outline of Martin's briefs visible through the tight grey trousers. "Maths! Oh fuckin' shitbags!" snapped Art, the laughter of a minute earlier instantly evaporating. "I thought fuckin' maths was this afternoon." "Wassup?" asked Ian surprised at seeing the immediate change. "Wot's a shitbag?" Martin looked puzzled at Art's new expletive. "Fuck the shitbags! I ain't done the fuckin' maths homework have I? Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it! I was gonna do it at fuckin' dinner time." Ian looked hopefully at Nigel, to whom they all appeared to turn when there was problem. Continuing to angrily mutter to himself Art gave up tugging at the twisted knot in his tie, grabbed his bag and ran to catch up. The reality of school life had yet again brought him crashing down from the sexual high. For Nigel, knowing only too well that he often had similar problems himself, guessed that he as going to have to take on the role of counsellor again. Quite why his friends looked upon him as some wise sage able to deliver the solution to all their adolescent problems he never understood, but really wasn't that friends were for? "Nige, do I really look all right now?" normally vibrant, the life had gone from Art's voice. A lump formed in Nigel's throat knowing that voice signalled Art was close to breaking, pausing he turned to look. Art was still fighting the losing battle to make himself look even vaguely presentable. Nigel's immediate dilemma was how to tell him that he had actually lost the battle and if he were to be brutally honest, that Art looked and smelt like the cumrag he kept under his bed! From his demeanour, Art had already folded under the pressure of the latent maths homework so the last thing Nigel wanted was to actually push him further down in the slough of despond. "Ahh... uumm.. sort of.." he smiled. A real test of friendship in an impossible situation. "I think maybe yer tie could do with retying.." "Can't!" replied Art. "Never undoes it, it won't! I just puts it over me head." "Nige," Martin looked very sadly at Nigel and raised his eyebrows. "I'm sorry, but we're gonna have to go `cause we're right down the far corridor. Art, we'll see you at dinner break. The best of luck mate." Ian looked at Martin then walked over and gave Art a quick hug. "Yeah, uumm.." "Oh fuck off!" Art looked away, from high to low he was emotionally exhausted. Ian and Martin reluctantly walked off wondering what the outcome would be. Somehow, Art always seemed to engineer his own downfall. Very little was said. "You Ok?" Nigel picked up his bag. "We can just do it if get a move on." "Not really." he wiped his eyes as he looked for his bag. "I'm gonna get really fuckin' bollocked now ain't I? Me maths is never any fuckin' good and just fuckin' look at me." "Maybe," putting an arm around him Nigel started to propel him down the corridor, "now wipe yer face and stop that or you'll fuckin' get me at it as well." "Do I really look alright?" Red around they eyes and his uniform a dishevelled mess he looked anything but. "Well.. sort of.. oh fuck. I hate seeing you, like this." Nigel wiped his face with the back of his sleeve, "Now don't get fuckin' mad, but I gotta tell you, just don't get too near the teacher, `cause you stink of cum!" "You're.." blinking Art looked him in the face, "fuck, I can't say no more.. oh fuck it all." "That's it, the old fighting spirit!" "Oh piss off!" said Art managing a weak smile. "Now save yerself, calm down `cause we're here. Anyway it's geography first innit, they might not... uumm .. y'know notice yer ain't quite as tidy as usual!" Something of a classic understatement, but Nigel was feeling the strain as well. They stopped at the half open door and listened to the noise from the classroom. "We did it, there's about ten seconds left before we're officially late!" Clenching his fists and closing his eyes for three of those precious ten seconds Art steeled himself for what he imagined was to come. "Come on boys, in you go." Mr Vincent the geography master stood behind them holding a pile of blue exercise books. Art looked askance at the dog eared covers, presumably somewhere in the pile was the homework he had submitted after quickly cribbing it. His heart sank, now he had something else to worry about as well. ########################################### Chap 78 to follow