Date: Sun, 25 Dec 2011 00:27:23 +0000 From: tom Subject: Chapter 86 Brief Encounters 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 *************************************************************************************************** Happy Christmas dear reader(s) I'm afraid the festive season has slowed the writing schedule a little! However stay tuned and I will be with you very early in January 2012. ************************************************************************************************** Chapter 86 – Simon throws a wobbler "No, no! You stupid cunt, I'm not doing it! Wot the fuck were you doing now? Can't you ever fuckin' leave it alone!" "I.. I.." Art winced. Simon had never spoken to him like this before, let alone in front of anyone else. Feeling extremely humiliated at being the subject of such an outburst by his younger brother he glanced at Tom and Alex who appeared to be wisely studying their feet. "Bleedin' hell Art, how many more fuckin' times have I gotta make fuckin' excuses to mum for you?" Simon slammed the gate behind him, unnerving even the most strong willed of the remaining woodlice ensconced behind the stones. "Think, how many times have you come home all spunky and half fuckin' undressed, then expect me to make excuses to mum for you!" Simon was absolutely fuming. The idea of having to mislead his mother yet again on Art's behalf was wearing very thin as on the last occasion she had appeared extremely sceptical of his performance. Part of his anger stemmed from the fact he was afraid that he would break under maternal interrogation and finally be drawn into Art's web of sexual problems, something he had so far managed to avoid. Throwing Alex's bike against the hedge he stared daggers at his brother, the enormity of the dark patch on the front of Art's jeans said it all. Tom looked at Alex and pulled a face, Alex put a finger against his lips and then quickly away when he realised it was his bike now deeply embedded in the privet! Nothing was said, they were going to have the brothers sort out without their involvement, even if they were very guilty of leading Art on! "I.." muttered Art. "Bet you was looking up their shorts wanking again and you didn't think you'd cum, did you?" shrilled Simon. "D'you think I don't know you does it at school all the time! Young boys in shorts or dirty pants and you're right fuckin' there!" "Fuuucckk.." Art let out a strangulated cry as the colour drained from his face. How did Simon know so much? "I don't `spect you've even got any fuckin' clothes left that you ain't wanked over!" continued Simon angrily. "And now I gotta lie again and make fuckin' excuses to mum while you fuckin' creeps upstairs. I'm sick of lying to her, it ain't fair! She knows when I does anyway." Tom cast a glance at Alex, they were getting a very real insight into brotherly love and Art's convoluted sexual world, splattered it seemed with vast quantities of spunk. "Please, just this once?" croaked Art timidly, petrified that Simon was going to make public more of his many and diverse sexual secrets. "Aaarrrggghh.. well it's the last fuckin' time!" Simon simmered. "You fuckin' owe me now!" "Yer course." Tom looked nervously between them wondering if it would finally escalate into full scale war. Art said nothing else instead he smiled back at Simon as only he could, benignly exerting his magic spell. Tom caught Alex's eye, having only minutes earlier experienced the self same thing they watched for Simon's reaction. "You are a bastard!" Simon's rage palpably melted away before their eyes. Seconds later Art moved over and put an arm around his shoulders. "Sorry kid, I can't help it... I'm just a dirty fucker, I gotta do it!" "Bloody incredible," whispered Tom to Alex, "how's he do it?" Alex shrugged his shoulders looking as amazed as Tom. "We don't need telling! We knows you does it." slowly Simon broke into a smile. "Don't you do this again to me." "I'll try," Art squeezed him, "you know it's hard, I'll try. Promise." "It's always fuckin' hard innit, that's the fuckin' problem innit?" replied Simon looking down at Art's jeans. Tom and Alex started to giggle, Art looked rather embarrassed and then gave a forced smile. "You two ain't gonna say nothing, is you?" Alex looked at Tom and shook his head. "No `spose not." "You could owe us one as well?" said Tom grinning. "Like wot?" asked Art, obviously none too happy at being played for all he was worth by the younger boys. "We'll think of something." said Alex and winked at Tom. "Oh." "Come on then, let's do it. Wot excuse am I giving her this time?" asked Simon poking him in the ribs. "Uumm.. you'll think of something!" "If that's the case then it's time you did something that I've thought of as well." said Simon grinning. Art looked apprehensive. "Well, wot?" "You can wear yer shorts all afternoon and so we'll be able to look up 'em for a change!" Simon turned to Tom and Alex who both nodded in approval and then started to snigger. "That's fair innit?" "Definitely." said Tom boldly adding. "We can see wot pants he's got on for a change!" There was no escape and no point in arguing, he had to pay the price. Art knew he'd been very lucky that Simon hadn't gone further with revelations of what lived under his bed, skipping rope handles and other homemade toys. Basically, it was blackmail and they all knew it. He sighed resigned to having to play his part. "Well go on and get talking to her then, so's I can nip up and change." "Into yer shorts mind." added Simon turning to go inside. "Here we go, count to ten and then go up." Art nodded. "We'll be here." said Alex. "Uumm..." Art looked rather sheepishly at Tom as Simon disappeared, "I'm sorry.. I shouldn't have done it. I, I... I can't help it... I can't stop.." "We don't mind," Tom looked for approval at Alex, "we don't, honest." "We'd have fuckin' run away if we had, wouldn't we?" said Alex rubbing the front of his shorts. "We enjoyed it." "Wot." Art was following Alex's hand. "Yeah, truth is," Tom smiled, "we like it! Please keep up the game... will you put yer shorts on for us won't you?" "The game?" Art flushed at the thought of it. "Not me shorts, I'd forgotten! Oh fuckin' hell!" "We ain't!" Alex grinned and stroked his bulging shorts again. Art swallowed hard, having taken the bait in the guise of Alex, he was now drawn towards playing their game as they called it. "You won't say nothing, will you? You've promised." "Course not." said Tom. "Anyway we really likes you, you know that." added Alex. "Yeah... oh shit! I nearly forgot, I gotta get upstairs!" "He's forgetting everything today!" said Alex, who seemed unable to leave his shorts alone. "He'll have to change his pants, won't he?" said Tom scratching the front of his shorts as he watched Art disappear through the front door. "Pity, like to have seen 'em all cummy!" Alex smiled and slipped a hand down his shorts to rearrange his hardening member. "Yer right, `cause they'll be all wet." "Looks like you'll be the same if you don't leave it alone!" "Morning lads, where are my two reprobates then?" "Yer wot? Reprowot's? Wot's that?" startled, Alex immediately pulled his hand from his shorts and swung round to see Ted Weldon about to open gate. "Oh.. hello...uumm.. Mr Weldon.." they had been caught unawares, Tom desperately hoped none of the previous conversation had been overheard. "Reprobates? Well, Simon and Art, aren't they about?" "They're both inside, should be out any minute." replied Alex rather nervously being very conscious of his erection. "Looks like you're going to play football?" Mr Weldon nodded towards their white shorts. "Yeah." Alex blushed slightly hoping the tent in his shorts wasn't that obvious. "Yer, we like to do it in sorta kit, too hot in jeans and that. " said Tom, "I think that's wot Simon's doing now, changing and that." "Any idea what Art's going to be doing? Can't see him playing football, far too athletic." "I did ask him to join us," Tom smiled angelically, "say's he's got something else to do." "Yes, I can imagine." Ted raised his eyes. "Simon's been mending Alex's bike." said Tom trying to change the subject. "The chains been falling off, he's good at that sorta thing." "Yes, he is. Very practical, must take after me. Art's useless, he doesn't know one end of screwdriver from the other!" They laughed politely. Tom however, on hearing a noise behind him turned to find himself unable to stop bursting into a loud guffaw. Art had now appeared at the front door wearing some very creased white shorts with what looked like faint pee stains on the front. A thin blue stripe up the sides which contrasted nicely with his deathly white legs. Feeling embarrassed just wearing the shorts without anybody even seeing him was bad enough, so to be greeted Tom, Alex and his father was far from his idea of fun. "You... you're going to play football?" asked Ted incredulously, struggling to keep from laughing. "Might do.." scowling he replied as though he'd just received a death sentence. Tom was still giggling, whilst Alex appeared to be just staring at the bulge in Art's shorts. Surely thought Alex, if Art was still wearing the same wet cummy briefs they should be showing though the shorts by now? "Cor, ain't seem them for a while," added Simon giggling as he came back out, he walked round to inspect his brother and rub it in, "yer legs that is!" Art gritted his teeth knowing if he hadn't got so carried away and ejaculated in his jeans he wouldn't be standing there now like a total idiot. "So, you is coming to play with us after all then?" Alex phrased the rhetorical question so that it was actually a statement. "I `spose so, but I'm seeing Nige this afternoon." The power of blackmail. Art's eyes darted from one to the other, if his father hadn't been there he might have got out of it, now he couldn't really refuse. The very thought of running about and chasing a football horrified him! "You can be goalie," said Simon starting to giggle again, " `cause you won't have to run about too much!" Avoiding looking at his father, Art looked at Simon with a forced smile. "Who else is playing then?" "Depends who turns up!" Simon stated the obvious, "Dunno, few kids who was at junior school and now at the comp. Wot with you we might just make five a side." "Not yer usual bunch of mates then?" "Nah, this lot lives nearer the park." "Go on, you'll enjoy it!" said Ted encouragingly, "And you could do with losing a bit of weight!" "Dad!" exclaimed Art angrily. "Well, it wouldn't hurt you would it!" "Grrrr!" "Well come on then, hurry up while we still got time before dinner." Simon bent down to pick up the ball from by the hedge and turned to go out the gate. "Bikes be alright here won't they dad?" "Don't see why not." Ted smiled as he watched them troop off with the reluctant Art trailing unhappily behind who with every step became more and more reluctant to carry on! Having escaped his mother earlier when rushing up to change even he had realised that wearing the cum soaked briefs under his shorts would be a big mistake. In haste he had grabbed a pair at random from the bag of stolen underwear stashed under his bed and stuffed Ian's wet briefs into his school bag knowing he had to return them later. It was only when he started walking towards the park he discovered how bad his choice had been as the elastic waistband was worn out and would barely support itself. Realising they were not ideal for playing football in and he was destined to be constantly hitching them throughout the game his mood blackened. "How long we got?" "I think `bout ten, fifteen minutes." Ian looked at his infamous Timex watch, "That is if this fuckin' useless watch is right, it keeps stopping." "You sure you wanna do this swop?" Martin looked down as he pulled up Ian's semen stained briefs. "Cor, these is a bit off... how long you been wearing 'em?" "Dead sure and," Ian smiled apologetically, "a couple of days, I've slept in 'em as well." "Wot is about wearing somebody else's dirty cummy pants that's such a turn on?" Martin looked down again and saw the wrinkled end of his foreskin poking out the at the side, he pushed it back under the stretched elastic only for it to spring out again. "I dunno, but if you hadn't suggested it I would `ave!" Ian seemed to be having some difficulty in getting Martin's blue briefs over his erection, "you ain't half gotta small waist, hope I'm gonna get these on." "So long as you don't overstretch 'em or rip 'em it'll be alright, just don't want to let mum find out." Martin looked at Ian's erection and the straining fabric. "Funny to think that's your cum and mine all stuck to the front." "I know, still wet. It'll remind me of you." "Is that wot you want?" Martin looked sideways at him. "Think so," said Ian smiling, "well, even if it's all been a bit sudden." "I know it's been quick for us," Martin paused before finishing the sentence, "but I've thought about you before. A lot." "You have? Me?" Ian's heart skipped a beat. "Before? Honest?" "Yeah. Come here." Without answering other than blushing, Martin moved over and pushed Ian's hands away. Pulling the waistband open he manoeuvred Ian's erection to get it inside. "If I rip me own pant's getting you in it'll be all right!" he smiled coyly. "But, so've I. I've thought about you." breathed Ian as Martin took hold of him. He had that tingling feeling again up his back. "There, all safely put away." said Martin patting the bulge, then suddenly asked. "Hey, wot d'you just say?" "I said, so've I" repeated Ian his mouth a little dry. "I've thought about you." "Wot? You mean.. you've thought about me?" Martin was really touched. "I just fuckin' said so! And.. and at bedtime too!" Ian blushed heavily leaving Martin to work out the ramifications. Unaware that his cock had escaped again from the side of the larger briefs Martin looked up and smiled. Ian couldn't stop himself from bending over and kissing him fully on the lips, embarrassed at his action he quickly broke off and looked apologetically at Martin. "I'm sorry.. this kissing thing it's... I couldn't help it." "You could, but you didn't, then you helped yerself!" Martin smiled, despite feeling very nervous. "We both want it or... something, don't we?" "Yeah, I `spose. Wotever it is!" Ian nodded slowly. "Can we, could we talk about it.. `cause I don't know what's happening to me. Since yesterday I been feeling all funny Mart, I dunno wot's going on?" "Neither do I really. I've felt sorta like it before." "D'you think it means I'm queer?" "I don't know, honestly." Martin reached for his jeans, his hands were trembling. At last the conversation was going the way he wanted where he could be really honest with somebody that he trusted and genuinely liked. Or was it more than liked? "Look, let's get dressed and go downstairs and talk down there, then when mum comes back, at least we're decent and she might bloody talk to me again." Looking for his clothes, Ian forced a smile despite being very worried that she might still be angry, knowing this really wasn't the time to start having issues with his parents. "Hey," Martin hugged him tightly, "we all got problems. Now kiss me again." "I'm gonna wear me shorts," Ian whispered in his ear, "that'll be one less problem, be easier to get yer hand up!" Having had two full scale sexual encounters that morning and still with the promise of a third in the afternoon, any other boy would have been more than satisfied for quite some time. Not so for Arthur Weldon, who completely bored by the football was scouring the park for further arousing sightings! Since being forced to play at junior school Art had hated football, a game he now considered to be little more than chasing a bag of wind around a field! Scuffing his feet on the parched grass he wandered aimlessly around between the imaginary goalposts, which in reality were two small heaps of discarded clothing and a duffle bag. Every so often he would turn away from the players and put a hand down the front of his shorts to pull the sagging briefs back up and give the head of his cock a little squeeze. That itself was sufficient to help him maintain a squidgy erection which would easily firm up when afforded a close up of one of the young players shorts or indeed any other boy in the park. Disappointingly, other than Alex in his blue Y-fronts none of the players appeared to be wearing anything other than white briefs under their shorts and what with all the energetic running about there wasn't even an erection in sight! With all the action happening at the other end of the pitch tedium had begun to set in, gazing around the park he more or less switched off from the game and began to run through the mornings events in his mind. Particularly that his secret desires for the younger boys were no longer a secret, he just had to hope Tom and Alex would keep their word and say nothing. Even so, fantasy soon took precedence over being a goalkeeper, forgetting about the game his erection began to stiffen as he thought about partially removing Tom's shorts and exploring the oversize underpants. Tthhhwwaaatttt!!! "Ooohhhh... fuckin' `ell!" cried Art clutching his ample behind. "Wot sort of bleeding goalie's that, he's just let the fuckin' ball in!" exclaimed Paul. "But d'you see that, bounced off his fat ass and straight in!" Alan swung round to look at Paul in amazement. "Now he's fallen over!" "That's it then innit? One, nil and time up. You lot have bloody lost!" crowed Andy. "Bollocks." said Paul. "Fuckin', fuckin' shitty football!" Winded and lying face down on the grass Art reached behind and gingerly felt his buttocks which were still stinging from where the football had hit him. Unaware the boys were gathering around to see the goalkeeper that had lost them the game, he continued to expound his expletive ridden views on football as their disgruntled comments about his own performance continued thick and fast. "I ain't surprised we lost, all he's done is play with himself and wander about, where'd you bloody find him?" asked Roger. "It's me big brother innit?" replied Simon defensively. "Wot, so is that wot's his name, Art? I've heard of him." said Roger looking over at the body lying on the grass. "Fat isn't he!" "Nah, he ain't that fat is he?" said Simon looking at Roger. "Cor, I ain't seem him for ages." said Alan. "Yer, he come here `cuase he owed me a favour." Simon raised his eyebrows. "Well he ain't done us no favours, we just fuckin' lost!" said Paul laughing. "Ain't never seen him in shorts, that's why I didn't recognise him." said Alan. "Well he ain't no fuckin' good as a goalie is he?" said Roger. "That's obvious innit? Too bleeding fat for one thing!" "He ain't bleeding fat!" Simon looked at Roger as though murder was on his mind. "Well, even if he ain't fat, he lost the bloody game for us!" Paul shook his head. "He's fat and totally fuckin' useless!" proclaimed Roger, "He should watch the ball and stop playing with his own all the time!" "But it's Art though, innit?" said Alex to Simon. Somehow he could see Art wasn't going to take it all lying down particularly Roger's barbs, even if he was at that precise moment horizontal! "Si, don't get excited," Tom nudged Simon, "I gotta feeling this time that fuckin' Roger's big mouth is gonna get him fucked!" "Bet you, Art will have him one way or the other." said Alex. "Just hold on." "Mmmhh.. I think yer right," Simon winked, "and course he's got his reputation to keep up!" "Keeping it up is about right." Tom smiled knowingly. "Yer come on you lot," called out Roger making towards Art in the mistaken belief that the others would follow, "let's get him! Have his shorts down I wanna's see wot he's been playing with!" "Whoops! This is it then!" Tom nudged Alex and pulled a face as the other boys gathered reluctantly around Art. "They'll never get his shorts down!" Roger, so carried away by own leadership qualities was bending over Art unaware that nobody else had wanted or even dared get that close, it was after all Simon's big brother who Roger wanted to strip. With Roger about to tentatively touch the rather full, if grimy white shorts Art suddenly rolled over and jumped up making all the boys stand well back. "See who's been playing with wot then?" snapped Art in a commanding tone. Pulling himself up to his full five foot something he looked slowly around giving the impression he was totally in control. The boys backed away and Roger smartly joined the retreat to melt into their ranks. "Uumm... oh fuck!" he muttered trying to make himself invisible. Unfortunately, Roger hadn't reckoned on dealing with Art! And, he certainly hadn't been expecting any resistance having thought the prospect of so many randy twelve year old boys wanting to mob and undress their victim would have been enough to scare anybody into submission. He moved to one side and looked around to see if there was an escape route should Art turn nasty. "See, Roger reckons we lost the game `cause you were playing with yerself instead of watching the ball!" Simon started to giggle, knowing he was the only one able to make the comment and get away with it. "Oh no. Oh fuckin' shit!" said Roger under his breath, he turned again to see if there was an escape route, but the gap in the ranks was slowly closing. "You cheeky sod," Art grinned, lunged at Simon but missed, nevertheless it broke the tension which had been building, "I'll play with your balls when I gets home!" "You gotta catch 'em first!" retorted Simon waving two fingers in the air. "Deal with you later! So, who's this bleedin' Roger then," Art was still unable to put a name to the face, he looked around, "Tom is right that wot he just said? He wanted to pull me shorts down?" "Yeah, I think that's wot it was." said Tom, secretly wishing that Art would pull his shorts down as well. "So which one of you little wankers is this Roger, who's been watching me and saying I've been playing with meself then?" The exhibitionist in Art was rapidly coming to the fore. Spurred on by having a younger captive audience where the subject of masturbation was never going to be far away and easily nurtured the time was ripe. Not one to miss an opportunity where it concerned boys in thin cotton shorts Art looked around to see a tantalising collection of bums and bulges. His notoriety as Simon's sexually charged older brother was definitely still something of an attraction to those boys who didn't really know him, but had doubtless heard exaggerated rumours of his sexual exploits. In fact, to hear of anything remotely sexual at the age of twelve was pretty exciting stuff anyway! "Oh come, where's this Roger that knows all about playing with yerself?" Art looked at the boys, some of whom seemed to be shocked with the ease by which the taboo subject of masturbation and it's associated implications was being bandied about. "Don't be shy boys, it takes one to know one! Sounds like he's done a lot of wanking to know all the signs!" Grinning and loving the attention, Art scoured the group again. Some boys were already looking slightly embarrassed at having been generically termed wanker's anyway! They in turn first cast sly glances at the growing lump in the front of Art's shorts and then gave the game away by looking round at Roger who to add to his other troubles had now been designated a prolific wanker in public by a fifteen year old with an obvious erection! "Ah! So it's you innit! Over there, well let's see you then." Art saw the crewcut haircut which was pointing towards the ground and appeared to be what the others were looking at. "Come on, I might show you wot I was playing with!" The thought of that stirred the audience and they looked at each other wondering if he would actually do it. Knowing all eyes were on him and looking very humiliated Roger nervously shuffled forward wishing he'd just kept his big mouth shut! "Oh... I know you.." Art looked down from his lofty five foot something to Roger's lowly five foot, "once you was sat next to our Simon in primary school and you wet yer pants, so yer mummy had to take you home and change 'em for you!" True or not Roger turned a brilliant shade of red and protested his innocence as the rest of the boys all but collapsed in laughter drowning out his cries of protest. There was something incredibly arousing about the situation and sex was very definitely in the air as Art confirmed by blatantly pushing a hand down the front of his shorts. Primarily it was to pull his sagging underpants back up, but also allowed him to rearrange his swelling cock and send a very clear, but unspoken message to the other boys. Roger, who whilst unsuccessfully was trying not to be noticed was hooked and could only stare transfixed at Art's ever expanding shorts. Simon found himself being dragged closer by Art, who then leant over and whispered excitedly in his ear, "Wot a little cunt! He thought he'd talk this lot into stripping me, fuck that! I'm gonna have him instead!" At first Simon just looked, then nodded and finally broke into a big grin. Roger along with his big mouth, had recently invited himself to join the group and in that short time had just about annoyed all boys one way or another, particularly as he always seemed to want to take charge. To a gasp from the assembled boys Art squeezed the object in the front of his shorts and looked down inquisitively at Roger's, it seemed as if there was nothing in them at all! ############################# Chap 87 to follow