Date: Wed, 09 Apr 2003 08:42:39 +0000
From: Jo Vincent <joad130@hotmail.com>
Subject: Aladdin's Awakening:  Part 41

Usual Disclaimer: If you are not of an age to read this because of the laws
of your country or district please desist.  If you are a bigot or
prod-nosed fundamentalist of any persuasion find your monkey-spanking
literature elsewhere and keep your predilections and opinions to
yourself. Everyone else welcome and comments more than welcome.

This is a very long tale.  It unfolds over a good number of years.  What is
true, is true: what is not is otherwise.  If you have trouble with the
English educational system let me know.

			    ALADDIN'S AWAKENING

				    By

				   Joel


				CHAPTER 24

			  Sunday April 16th 1944

I was rudely awaken by a vigorous prodding in the ribs.

     "Hey, come on Jacko, wake up, it's nearly half-past seven!"

     Matt was already washed and dressed and I was still slugging.  I'd
slept very well, all that wine and the exercise I supposed.  Breakfast and
more exercise riding home this morning were the next things to concentrate
on.  I slid out of bed to be met by a guffaw from Matt.

     "Doesn't it ever lie down?" he chortled, pointing at my early morning
rise.

     I was very conscious of new weight in the stiff, bent back object.  My
surmises of the previous night were noticeably true.

     "You'd better deflate that thing before breakfast," Matt said, still
giggling, "Here I'll give you a hand!"

     He grabbed at my tool and began to wank me roughly.  I ducked away
from him and pulled my rod from his fist.

     "Hey, Matt, don't be so rough," I said plaintively, though needing
sweet relief, "Come into the bathroom."

     There I was more properly dealt with and, given the couple of almighty
outpourings I'd had the previous night, there was a very substantial amount
this morning.  Matt whistled through his teeth as he gripped my jerking rod
as it all spurted out splashing against the tiles at the back of the sink.

     "You don't half make it, don't you?" he said, with a tinge of
admiration in his voice.

     "You don't do so bad yourself," I replied, secretly very proud as the
final drop fell from my knob.  I reached back and rubbed my finger up the
front of his shorts.  "Don't you want it today?" I asked.

     He let go of my dick most unceremoniously and dropped his rugger
shorts and pants and waggled his already semi stiff shaft which rose and
hardened rapidly.

     "'Cause I do, I got dressed as it was getting late.  Do it quick
then."

     I stood behind him and swiftly got him squirting his spunk all over
the washbasin where it joined my deposit.  When he'd finished I nudged him
in the back pointing at the cascade of pearly drops.

     "Mucky boys aren't we?  Anyway I've got to get dressed.  I shan't wash
this morning as we've got that cycle ride so you'd better clean all this
up."

     He didn't demur and I left him to it.  I was just doing up my shorts
when the usual bumping at the door occurred.  I let Bran in who went
through his usual greeting ritual and then sat patiently while I finished
dressing.  I was just scraping through my unruly locks when Matt joined us.

     "Hi, Bran," he greeted the dog, then turned to me. "All clean,
shipshape and Bristol fashion in there, as mother says."

     "Do you let her clean it up when you do it at home, then?" I asked
mischievously, "Must be a full time job, eh?"

     He jabbed a fist at me.

     "Don't be daft!  Of course I make sure I've cleaned it up!"  He
chuckled, "But I don't often do it there, I prefer it in bed, don't you?"

     I had to agree, nothing better than lying down, cock in fist and idly,
or even purposively, having a good time.  I did say I liked to watch myself
and he admitted he did as well.  I looked at my watch.  We were going to be
late for breakfast if we didn't get downstairs fast.  We decided to leave
final packing until after and got to the kitchen by two minutes to eight.

     Miss P had already finished her breakfast but indicated the waiting
boiled eggs under the cosy.  We set to and I demolished three and a couple
of hunks of bread.  Miss P wanted to know if we had enjoyed ourselves and
we agreed enthusiastically and said we hoped we would be invited again.

     "I should think you will be," she twinkled, "It livens the place up to
have you all here.  And it keeps Bran occupied as well."

     At the sound of his name he looked up from where he was lying by the
fireplace, lumbered up and came over and sat by me.  He rubbed his face on
my bare knee.

     "He'll miss you when you've gone," she continued, "He really needs a
lot more attention."

     I looked down at Bran who turned his face up and it didn't look as if
he was grinning today.

     "You could come over at Whitsun if you like.  Tony asked if he and
some of his patrol could have a weekend camp here then," she
paused.... "...You could stay in the house if you didn't fancy being under
canvas with them!"

     We both thought that would be a better idea and looked at each other
and grinned.  I wondered to myself who the other members of the patrol
would be.  Cleggy?  Vince?  Perhaps even the Fosters!

     I waited while Matt told Miss P again all about the impending St
John's exam and then we went up to finish our packing.  I had a quick look
at the bottom sheet and noticed a small patch where some come had escaped
the attention of the towel or else one of us had shot a bit further than we
had noticed at the time.  I thought that would give the laundry something
to think about but they were probably used to it.  Matt wanted to take
Piers' diaries but I said he'd better not - we could have another look at
them on our next visit.  What I had done was to keep the piece of paper
with the totals on and that was tucked in my own diary.  While Matt was in
the lav having a pee I hurriedly brought my own entries up to date and did
a quick count up.  Matt came back just as I finished.

     "Have I beaten you this week, Matt?" I asked, "Eighteen times from
last Sunday to last night!"

     He grinned from ear to ear.  "No you haven't!  I've just been counting
up in my head and if I haven't made a mistake it's nineteen for me!  So,
I've beaten you and Piers!" he concluded triumphantly.

     "As well as beating your meat!" I riposte.

     "You helped and look what you've done and I haven't.  That counts
twice I should think!  You wait, I might want to do it to you!"

     The thought of that enormous tool aiming at me made me clench my
buttocks.  Still, I suppose if he let me I'd better give him a chance.

     We finished packing in silence broken only by him muttering over all
his things as he stuffed them into his haversack.  We were downstairs just
after nine to be met by Mrs Crossley with a carrier bag each to carry on
our handlebars and eggs to go into our already laden saddle bags.  I peeped
into my carrier bag and spied a plump chicken and a piece of cheese.

     Mrs Crossley smiled and said Lady Bing had brought the cheese and she
thought we would like to have some to take home.  The chickens and the eggs
were from her and we'd better not say where they came from!  She thanked us
both for coming!  And me for playing as I had entertained them all very
well.  I hope we made it clear how pleased we'd been to have been
entertained so well and we promised to make every effort to come at
Whitsun.

     Bran followed us all the way to the gates and we both gave him a big
hug and promised to see him at Whitsun and we rode off homewards.  Of
course, as soon as we were out of earshot of the Manor, Matt made the
remark that there would be plenty of coming at Whitsun if the Scouts were
there as well!


     We arrived back on the outskirts of Kerslake by twelve o'clock having
been hailed by three passing conveys of army vehicles, this time with one
squaddie shouting out something about what he was going to do to the
Mademoiselles and the Fr„uleins.  Something was up, but what?  We parted
with the arrangement that Matt would be round for revision and photo
inspection at two the next day.

     Ma said she was pleased to see me, but how grubby I was.  She was very
pleased with the foodstuffs and then said I'd better get up to my bedroom
and clean up as the Buchanan boys were coming for lunch.  Before I could
question her further I was shooed upstairs and so made a graceful exit.

     I was just tying my tie after washing and changing when a tap on the
door heralded the arrival of Tom still in his Boys' Brigade uniform.  He
took one look at the array of dirty clothing strewn over the bed and
grinned.

     "Had a good time, eh?  Did you fall in the mud?"

     He pointed at one of my shirts which was liberally coated with debris
from our exploration of the wood surrounding the Manor.  I screwed up my
nose and said I hadn't and we'd had a good time and perhaps some time he
might get invited there as well.  He plonked himself down in my chair and
picked up one of the Boy's Own Papers stacked on the desk.

     "Where did you get these?" he asked, "Can I have a look when you've
finished?"

     Goodness me!  Tom's brain was crying out for some exercise at last!

     "Of course you can," I said and added with a grin, "They haven't got
hyphens in like Chick's Own, though."

     He took a moment to digest that.

     "I'll pull your bollocks off, cheeky sod," he muttered and turned to
grab at me.  I moved rapidly away.

     "And why are you having lunch with us?" I asked.

     Tom leaned back in the chair.  "Mum's had to go up to Scotland to
finish off great uncle Robert's things up there.  She's not back 'til
Tuesday so we've been looking after ourselves though we went to Betty
Briggs' for food on Friday."

     "Who's Betty Briggs?"

     Tom had the grace to redden slightly.

     "Don't you know her?"

     I shook my head.

     "She and her sister are at the girls' school where mum teaches and
we've been playing tennis with them.  At least Dunc's been playing properly
and they've been teaching me.  Dunc should have been revising so mum'll be
livid when she finds out, He's only got a fortnight before his exams and
Mary Briggs' the same and her mum's not very pleased either."

     I sat and looked at Tom saying nothing and he continued.

     "Dunc's keen on Mary.  Do you know her?"

     "No, I don't know either of them.  Are you keen on Betty."

     The slight redness reoccurred.

     "Not really, only met her this week, she's OK," he mumbled, "Play's
tennis OK, though.  Anyway what have you done?"

     I explained about Roo and Tony having to come home because of the
quiz.
  I left out the boxing-glove treatment of Matt and our other amusements.
I told him about the Duchess and Lady Bing and was interrupted by someone
banging the gong which usually remained hidden under the stairs.  We were
no slouches in going down and found Duncan, also still in uniform,
gong-stick in hand.

     "Come on you two," he said perkily, "Grub's up - I mean, luncheon is
served!"

     Something was going on between those two.  Nothing was said but the
redness kept appearing on Tom's face from time to time and it was each time
Duncan grinned at him.  I noticed Pa had spotted it too, but no one
remarked on it.  Anyway, we had a good lunch and afterwards as Pa had some
work to do I sauntered back to No. 22 with the two boys.

     I was lounging on Tom's bed while he was changing out of his uniform
when Duncan came in unannounced.

     "Hi, Jacko," he said very affably, "Did you have a good time with
Master Matt the Merry Mariner?"

     "Oh, you mean Chopper Ward the Liniment King?"

     Tom looked from me to Duncan and back again with a look of
bewilderment on his face.

     "What are you talking about?  Who's Chopper Ward?"  he demanded.

     Duncan was guffawing.  He crossed over to Tom and put his arm over his
shoulder and addressed me.

     "And has this libidinous loon told you he's been ogling little Betty
Briggs and her bouncing bosom, eh?"

     "Don't be so rude about Betty," said Tom defensively,

     Duncan clutched tighter at Tom as I shook my head.

     "He's discovered the fascination of the female form and he's been very
busy, haven't you Tom?" Duncan continued, winking at me.  "I can tell you
Jacko, never has a maggot been so galloped, a pudding pulled, a gherkin
jerked, nor a donkin flogged as this boy has demonstrated this week!"  He
lowered his voice conspiratorially, "In fact, I can tell you that last
night it was more like a dead horse being flogged from the noise in here!"

     I collapsed in giggles as Tom went a deep shade of red and tried to
get away from Duncan.

     "You've been teasing me all morning about it!" he expostulated, "I saw
you talking to Andy Symes on parade and I bet you were telling him and then
you were grinning all the time at Jacko's."  He paused for breath.
"Anyway, you said Mary Briggs' would give you blue balls or whatever and I
bet you've done it plenty too!"

     Duncan gave Tom a final squeeze, let go and addressed me in a
confidential tone.

     "You see, last night I was just going along the corridor and there was
his door wide open with him wheezing and gasping like a clapped-out old
carthorse, so I peeped in and he was going at it full pelt, bedclothes all
awry!  I made my excuses and left!"

     "I didn't hear you!" said Tom.

     "Proof, Jacko!  He doesn't deny it!  The poor lad was so far gone in
his torment!  Come here!"  He grabbed at Tom but he eluded him so Duncan
continued. "And he didn't even hear me the night before, either.  Friday
night I stood outside for ages and he was grunting like a stuck pig!"  He
screwed up his face.  "Ngh! Ngh! Ngh!, just like that!"

     "Pig yourself!" Tom said heatedly, "You telling tales on me like that!
I'll tell mum you haven't done any revision and she'll get really angry!"
He turned to grab Duncan but obviously thought better of it.

     I thought I'd defend Tom.

     "And what about you, Duncan?" I asked ingenuously, "Didn't you have
to?"

     Duncan roared with laughter. "What d'you think?  But I wasn't so noisy
as terrible Tom here."

     "Matt said he was in disgrace at Fensham because of what he did to
you," I continued and Tom interrupted again.

     "Why was he in disgrace?" he asked me and turned to face his brother.
"You never told me?" he accused Duncan.

     Duncan put his hands up defensively and laughed again.

     "I don't know what he told you, but I expect it was pretty accurate.
He told me some things about you, too!"

     "I know, he told me all about it so you'd better tell Tom."

     Duncan sat on the edge of the bed by my feet and launched into his own
version of the happenings at Fensham including the re-naming of Matt with
the added comment that he was a well-hung young gentleman.  Tom listened
most intently to everything, laughing like a drain and muttering `Serve you
right!' as Duncan described the ball-clutching disgrace and giggling almost
uncontrollably as Dunc finished up with a graphic description of being
awakened by a wet tongue.  I was also having a good laugh at his depiction
of the scenes and by the time he'd finished I had a raging hard-on which I
endeavoured to disguise by rolling over on my stomach. I had the feeling
that Tom was in a similar state but, as Dunc completed the narrative he
just said `that's the whole story and nothing but the story', got up and
went out.  I rolled off the bed rather awkwardly.

     "Let's see if the old carthorse is OK now," I said, advancing on Tom
and undoing my flies at the same time.  We found we were both in an
identical rigid state. Then, within five minutes, we proved we were both
OK, without too much wheezing or gasping, with poor Tom's tennis shirt on
the floor getting the full brunt of two hefty jets of spunk.

     After we'd cleared up and Tom had repeated his lament about his
inability to overcome Duncan physically in some way, but wait until he
could, etc., etc., he then said he was worried about the mock exams and
would I help him with his maths before we went back next week.  I promised
and then had to listen to a description of his newly acquired tennis
prowess and the personal characteristics of Betty Briggs.  Not that
anything untoward had occurred, the only contact being her hand over his
showing him how to hold the racket!  This, I surmised, must have led to the
over-activity of his erectile tissue.  I remembered the effect the
knee-nudging had at the reception after the wedding.  Perhaps I would be
falling for the wiles of females soon!


     Pa was pleased with himself when I arrived back home.  He said he'd
solved another problem mainly because of the lack of noise and general
mayhem while I had been away, but he was only joking.  He was also in a
generous mood and I got a double issue of pocket money, so seeing I hadn't
spent anything over the past week I was feeling rather flush.  Ma put the
damper on it by saying there was something called a Post Office which I
could visit and put my money towards the victory appeal.  Pa said five
bob's not going to buy a Spitfire and I retreated before war broke out
nearer home!

     I spent a bit of time sorting out Chris's old clothes which had all
been washed during the week and left in tidy piles on the floor.  There
were two pairs of rugger shorts which looked too small for me so I thought
I would give them to Roo and Benno for their young brothers.  I'd promised
Matt the other pair of corduroy shorts so had a careful look through the
Scout pile to see if there was anything else I wanted.  One thing I did
find was the lanyard Chris was wearing in the photo.  I decided to keep
that and a pair of sock garters with green tags.  I put these and
everything else I was keeping tidily in my chest of drawers and wardrobe.
Then I had a quick peep in my hidey-hole and found everything there was
safe and sound.  Thinking about the photos and what Matt might say set me
off once I was in bed that night, but I think I achieved my goal without
too much noise and mayhem.

                                *
                    Monday April 17th 1944
     I was up bright and early and decided to go for a run.  I put on the
jockstrap, the smallest pair of Chris's running shorts and one of his rugby
shirts and admired myself in the mirror before setting off.  I was out of
practice and was quite exhausted even doing the distance I'd achieved
easily a fortnight ago.  Ma was not sympathetic when I staggered, with a
little exaggeration, into the kitchen on my arrival back home.  It wasn't
too bad though as she had made loads of porridge which I devoured
ravenously after washing and changing.

     Pa and Ma were ready to set off for work soon after and I was
admonished to do some revision for the St John's exam and also to try some
of the Grade Eight music Mrs Tring had left for me and not to forget I was
having my piano lesson at five today.  I said Matt was coming round and we
would revise together.  They went off and I was left to my own devices.

     I had a nose round Pa's study and riffled through the sheets discarded
in the waste paper basket.  Good job I wasn't a German spy as they were
mostly complicated looking diagrams and calculations and looked highly
valuable.  I looked for a book to read and found a couple tucked in a
corner.  The title of one caught my eye as it was `Sexualwissenschaft' but
it was in German.  The other one had a Latin title, `Sexualis' something or
other, but that was in German as well.  I had a quick look at both but
there were lots of words I hadn't come across before and there weren't any
pictures so I thought I would have a good look at them another time.  I did
find another Sherlock Holmes book and took that.

     Next task was to see what Mrs Tring had left for me.  I had a go but
the pieces were much more difficult than before so I went over my usual
repertoire in between and when I looked at my watch saw it was twelve
o'clock.  Lunch was on a plate in the pantry and it didn't take long to
scoff that so I went up to my bedroom to await Matt.  I put out the
corduroy shorts ready for him and then fished out the various things from
the hidey-hole.  I was perusing the snaps for the umpteenth time with a
rising state of horniness when the backdoor bell rang.  I shuffled
everything hurriedly under the bed and went down to find a miserable
looking Matt.

     "Hi, Jacko!" he started mournfully, "I can't remember a thing in this
book!"

     He brandished the St John's book at me and came in looking very
disconsolate.  I thought it might be best to see what we knew before having
the light entertainment, so we settled down and went through the book page
by page.  Actually, we found we both knew it pretty well and Matt ended up
much happier.  We didn't practice any of the bandaging as we planned to get
to the hall early and get Pat to help us.

     That over I gave him the shorts which he insisted on trying on
immediately and while he was putting them on I retrieved the packages from
under the bed.  Matt insisted he had to see the French letter packet first,
I suppose to satisfy himself there were three inside and Chris hadn't used
one on his sister.  He couldn't keep his eyes off the pictures and spread
them out over the bed cover.  He wanted to know who the others were in the
group ones but I said I didn't know.  I pointed out that it must be Chris
squirting his stuff and he agreed.

     Then he giggled over the two posed portraits and wondered if Julia had
seen him in that state.  I had a raging hard-on while all this was going on
so while he was bending over the bed I dropped my trousers and pants then
put my hand round and undid his flies.  He was also rampant.  We quickly
stripped off completely and while he held one of the pictures of Chris I
tossed him off.  That didn't take long and neither did it when we changed
places and he did it to me.  As we got dressed again he kept looking at the
photos.

     "Can I have one to keep?" he asked, "Promise I won't show it to
Julia."

     "No, you'd better not," I said, "When Chris comes back he'll want to
know where they are and I expect his mum will say I had all his clothes and
he'll guess I've got them.  I'll give them back to him."

     "Yeah, I suppose so," agreed Matt rather half-heartedly, "But can I
see them if I want to?"

     "Of course," I said, chuckling, "He might be your brother-in-law some
day and you want to know what your sister is getting!"

     He punched out at me playfully.

     "My sister's not like that!" he said, pursing his lips.

     "She will be after she's married.  Pat told me he heard they do it
very night just like you tossing off."

     "Do they?"  Matt sounded worried again.  "You mean our mums and dads
do it?"

     "I don't know, but they must have to have had us."

     "But every night?"

     "I don't know, that's what Pat said he'd heard."

     Matt looked pensively at the photos again.  I chipped in.

     "At least yours is bigger than his."

     Matt nodded but his mind was on other things.

     "I wonder where he had these photos taken?"  He turned them over.
"They're a bit like the ones of dad and mum when he was promoted last time.
Mum's got them framed in the front room."

     "But they've got their clothes on haven't they?"

     "Fool, of course they have, but it's the same type of photo.  And they
had them taken here somewhere."

     We had a look but other than the pencilled number and date on the back
there was no indication who had taken them.  Matt watched as I packed up
the snaps and the packet of French letters and stowed them away.

     "Are they safe there?" he enquired.

     "I hope so, I've pushed them all along under the floor boards so if
anyone lifts this bit up they won't see them."

     Matt seemed satisfied at this and the promise of future inspections
even if he couldn't take one home with him.

     He left about four o'clock and hadn't been out of the house more than
five minutes when the 'phone rang.  I was always a bit wary of this
contraption as things always seemed rather important or urgent after it was
answered.  I was in the kitchen ferreting around when it rang so it gave me
a start anyway.  A strange, deep masculine voice responded to my `Kerslake
967'.  It had the sort of accent heard in American films.

     "Hello there," the caller said, "Is that the Thomson residence?"

     "Yes," I replied mystified, "I'm Jacko Thomson."

     "Hello there and I'm your uncle Alfred. Is your father or mother
there?"

     Uncle Alfred?  Then I knew.  It was my American uncle, married to my
mother's elder sister.  Why was he calling from America?

     "No, they won't be back from work until half past five."

     "Half five, eh?  I'll call back after that.  Tell them I'm here in
England and will come on Thursday to see you.  Tell your father the Holy
Yank will be in town!"

     With a click the 'phone went dead.  I made a note on the pad by the
'phone.  What did he mean by `Holy Yank'?  Then I remembered Ma had said he
was a theology professor like her father had been.  More importantly he was
coming to visit us so he must be in England.  Why?  Where?  No doubt all
would be revealed later!

     I told Mrs Tring about Lady Bing and she was rather impressed as she
had heard of her and confessed she thought she was dead.  I told her what
she had said about the various musicians she had known and Mrs Tring was
even more impressed.  Much more than she was with my stumbling over the
first of the new pieces.

     I was glad to get back home for some food before going to the St
John's exam.  Ma was all excited as Uncle Alfred had 'phoned back while I
was out and he said he would be driving himself over all the way from
Liverpool.  It turned out he was a chaplain in the American Army and had
just arrived with a boatload of American troops but he didn't have to be on
duty at some camp nearer the East coast until Saturday.

     Pa said he was looking forward to meeting his brother-in-law again,
the Reverend Professor Alfred Bradley Hamilton the Second, as he was quite
a character, that's why he'd named him the `Holy Yank' when they had first
met.  Uncle Alfred had been a student of grandpa's in Strasbourg and had
married Ma's sister Annette while there.  I was also reminded that I'd got
two American cousins too, twin boys, a bit older than me!

     I cycled off in good time to the exam and found Matt and Benno already
at the hall busily practising bandaging on a very patient Pat.  When
everyone had arrived and signed in the exam started and I didn't find it
too bad.  There was an elderly doctor there who got me to do two lots of
bandaging and asked various other questions.  Pat said his dad would tell
Pa how I got on and he'd be round with some uniforms on Wednesday.  Matt
had disappeared by the time I'd finished so I cycled part of the way home
with Benno who didn't seem too worried either.  I asked him why he wasn't
going his usual way home and he said he and his brother Jimmy were staying
with his aunt in town as his youngest brother, Jud, had the mumps.  We
arranged that he would come round the next afternoon for a natter as he
said he was a bit fed up.

     I was very tired when I went to bed and just turned over and fell
asleep straight away.  That was something which hadn't happened very often
in the past few months!

                                *

     The sleep must have done me good.  I was wide awake by half past six
so quietly got up, put my running kit on and let myself out of the house
silently.  I wasn't so winded as the day before and went off on the old
long route and saw nobody except a couple of workman going along on their
bikes.  I got back about quarter past seven and Ma was in the kitchen.  She
wasn't very sympathetic again with my dramatic collapse onto the door mat.
In fact, a well-placed toe under my rump made me rise rather rapidly.

     "Wash and change and then your breakfast will be ready," she said,
nodding her head towards the door into the hallway. "And tell your father
to hurry as we have to be early today."

     Before I removed myself from her sight I remembered I wanted to check
on something.

     "Ma, I have had the mumps haven't I?" I asked.

     "Yes, you have.  Let's see, you must have been seven or so," she said,
"Why do you want to know?"

     I explained about Benno's brother and that Benno was coming round this
afternoon.  She nodded sagely and said she didn't think one could catch
mumps twice.  I banged on their bedroom door, called out to Pa that he had
to hurry, then went and had a quick wash and change ready for breakfast.

     Pa was already down and laughing about something.

     "Good job you've had mumps already," he said still smiling hugely,
"Not a good thing for young boys your age to catch, very painful."

     "Why's that," I asked.

     "Painful swellings where you don't need them..," he began, but Ma
interrupted him by plonking down two rounds of toast on the plate in front
of him.

     "No need to frighten the poor boy," she said, "If he's had the mumps
already he can't catch it again."

     "I bow to your superior medical knowledge, my dear," he said to Ma,
then directed his gaze on me, "But if you have unwanted pains, straight to
the doctor's with you, chop, chop!"

     "What d'you mean?" I asked plaintively as going to the doctor usually
meant something awful.

     He shook his head, "Nothing to worry about, old boy, your mother says,
but I hear the swelling's dreadful at your age."

     Ma laughed as well.  "Leave him alone, he won't catch mumps now!"

     I obviously wasn't going to find out any more so silently devoured a
hearty breakfast with Ma and Pa leaving me in the dark about the dire
effects of the dreadful disease.

     I found plenty to occupy myself with during the morning and I was
rooting about in the garage just after two when Benno arrived.  He helped
me straighten my handlebars which somehow had come adrift and at the same
time enlightened me about the effects of mumps on boys of our age.  So, the
unwanted swellings would be centred on our most delicate parts and he
informed me, could make us sterile.  That was a bit of silence-making
intelligence and I surreptitiously felt in my pocket to check my balls were
still their normal size.  As we went indoors I asked him if Jimmy had had
the mumps.  He grinned and said he had.  In fact, both he and Jimmy had the
mumps at the same time when he was six and his brother was four.  By this
time we were sitting in my room so I asked him if he had found out more
about Jimmy and...

     "You mean, when did he started beating his meat?" he interrupted me,
"Oh yes, I have."  He stopped and giggled.  "I found out last week," he
continued, "'Cause now we're staying at Auntie Jessie's we're having to
share, you know, sleep together."  He looked at me and grinned.  "I did
what you said your cousin did.  When we were in bed the first night, it was
all quiet so I started doing it to myself and, d'you know what, the little
sod started to do it to himself at the same time!  And it didn't take him
long, either."

     "What happened then?" I asked him.

     "Oh, we had a long talk and I found out he'd seen me do it in the
bathroom one day when I thought everyone was out and he'd tried it and
found he could make stuff.  He wanted to know all about it so I told him,
then we did it to each other."

     "Did you have a good look at him?" I asked, intrigued at the precocity
of this twelve year old.

     "Um, of course," he answered, "He wanted to see me properly as well so
we had a good look at each other in the morning.  He's only got a tiny bit
of hair, I think it's about the same as I had at his age."  He paused, as
if measuring in his mind's eye.  "And his dick isn't all that big. It gets
longer when it's stiff but it's still very stubby, mine was bigger than his
when I started." He laughed again. "It just fits two fingers and a thumb!"
He waved his hand back and forth much to my amusement.

     I went over to the chest of drawers and picked up one of the smaller
pairs of rugger shorts.

     "D'you think these'll fit him?" I asked, holding them up.

     "Gosh, yes," Benno said, looking very pleased, "Can he have them?"

     I explained about being given Chris Gardiner's togs - but not about
finding the photos - and that his brother might as well benefit as well.
I'd just finished saying this when the back doorbell rang.  I'd completely
forgotten that Tony was coming round this afternoon as well and there he
was.

     "Come on up," I said as I ushered him in, "Benno's here.  We took our
St John's exam last night."

     Tony's eyes lit up, "Oh, Benno's here," he repeated, "Good!"

     He followed me up the stairs and I remembered to ask how the quiz had
gone and he said their troop had won hands down and Rabbity was very
pleased even if he had to sit with his foot up on a chair all evening.

     After greeting Benno he wanted to know what I'd been doing since he'd
left Ulvescott.  I told him about Lady Bing and the Duchess and they both
giggled over the old lady's treatment of her daughter.  Tony said he'd
heard Aunt Mary talk about them but he'd never met them.

     "Tell him about your brother, Benno," I said when I'd finished my
tale, "Then he'll tell you about his Scout camp last year."

     Benno told the story again and Tony wanted to know how often his
brother was doing it 'cos that young Sam Catt was at it all the time.
Benno was much amused and said he really didn't know.  He only knew of the
times he was present and that was once a day at least.  What the lad did
the rest of the time he didn't know but he'd find out.

     "How's your competition going, Tony?" I asked hoping to start the ball
rolling as I was getting rather horny.

     Tony shrugged his shoulders. "Three to go," he replied quietly.

     "Who?" I asked.

     "Pete Fry, Danny Ross and you know who?" he said with a grin.

     "What's that?" asked Benno.

     Now or never.  I winked at Tony.

     "Tony, Roo and Cleggy have a competition on to see who's first..."

     Benno laughed and interrupted me. "Yeah, I know, to see who tosses us
all off first!  Isn't it?  Ned Carter told me on Saturday 'cause I was
round there and he said they were all after me."

     "Come on, Benno, then, be a sport!" I said, "I'll be referee!"

     They both laughed and Benno obligingly dropped his trousers and
hoicked off his shirt and vest.  Tony did the same and I threw down the
trusty towel.

     Benno's brother might only have a small stubby prick but Benno was
growing fast.  Both he and Tony went stiff very quickly and I could see
Benno's thin wiry tool was about an inch longer than Tony's even though he
was younger.  I wasn't going to be left out so I joined them by stripping
off as quickly as possible and was pleased to see my cock beat them both.
I was growing even faster.

     "Hey, Benno, come and stand here," commanded Tony positioning both of
them so he had a clear view of what he was about to do in my wardrobe
mirror.

     I stood by the side and watched, my cock aching for a helping hand.
Benno didn't take long before he produced several squirts of come and stood
panting for a few moments before he and Tony changed places.  Tony was no
slouch either and a little arc of pearly liquid shot from his knob after a
couple of minutes of Benno's vigorous pounding.  By this time I'd produced
a large drip of clear stuff which hung from my knob end.

     "Look at the poor boy," said Tony, "You'd better put him out of his
misery, Benno, I had to do that for him more than once last week!"

     Benno took my tool in his whole fist and as he wanked me he whispered
over my shoulder, "Gosh, Jacko, you're much bigger than last time."

     I didn't disappoint him either with my display because he must have
just got the beat right and pulled down just as I shot the main part of my
load.  It missed the towel and spattered over the wardrobe mirror which
gave them both a great fit of the giggles.

     "Crikey, Jacko, my mum uses water and vinegar to clean her mirrors,"
gasped Benno as he let go of my still throbbing shaft.

     "I don't know what my mum uses but she doesn't ask me to shoot all
over ours either," guffawed Tony.

     Funny ha ha!  I picked up the towel and rubbed the mirror down with
the dry side.  A smeary mess was the result.  They were laughing again.

     "Here, let me," said Benno taking the towel from me.

     He carefully rubbed over each particle until the mirror was once again
bright and shining.

     "There, I bet it's never been so clean before.  That's it, folks,
Jacko's Patent Mirror Cleaner, produced while you wait," he announced,
"Three quick rubs and the job's done.  One shilling for the towel, but the
boy comes free!"

     "He always comes free," chortled Tony, "First time I did it to him it
went all over my chest of drawers."

     "I hate to correct you," I said primly, "But old Campion would say I
came freely."

     "You mean, he's tossed you off?" Benno said questioningly.

     "No, you clot, but if it's proper English, you don't come free, you
come freely."

     Tony laughed again, "It's both with you!  You don't charge, so it's
free and there's plenty of it, so it's freely produced."

     "OK, OK," I said, "I agree.  What about you, Benno, are you free?"

     His cock was already beginning to stiffen again.

     "Always, want to try?"

     Needless to say we had another round with me doing to Benno, then to
Tony and finally Tony made me shoot another load, this time only over the
towel!

     We got dressed and Tony told Benno some of his tales which caused more
hilarity.  In the end Benno had to go at four o'clock.  He thanked me
profusely for the shorts for Jimmy and I saw him out.  Tony was leafing
through a Boy's Own Paper when I got back and wanted to know if I'd got
them from Chris Gardiner as well as the Scout togs.  I said I had and got
the bundle of shirts and other things out which he picked over and decided
what he wanted.

     "I'll take these things for Roo, shall I?" he asked, holding up a
neatly ironed shirt against his chest.

     "Yeah, of course," I replied.  I thought for a moment and had an idea.
Tony knew all sorts of people so he might be able to identify the others in
the photos.

     "Hey, Tony," I said, "If I show you something promise you won't say!
Scout's promise?"

     "Yeah," he said, his eyes lighting up with interest, "Scout's Honour!"

     He already knew my hidey-hole so I didn't make any secret of that but
reached in and pulled out the bundle of packets.

     "What's that lot?" he asked, full of curiosity.

     "Wait and see," I said and chose the packet with the boys in the
changing room.  I opened it and spread the photos on my desk.  "Who are
these?  I know which one's Chris Gardiner but I don't know the others."

     Tony's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "Where did you get these?
Gosh, that's Huggy's son, Vaughan!"  He pointed at a tall boy next to Chris
in one of the photos. "And that's Bertie Reynolds, he was in the Scouts,
and I think that's Henry Gale's older brother."

     I explained where I'd found them and Tony nodded.

     "Good job you took them, wouldn't want his mum to find them."

     I pointed at the boy Tony had identified as Huggy's son.

     "I didn't know Huggy had a son."

     "Yeah, he's Vaughan and he left school while he was in the Sixth Form.
I know 'cause Dad knows Mrs Pugh and I've heard him say he left all of a
sudden and joined the Air Force and that was before the War started."

     I spread out the other photos, including the two posed ones.

     "Gosh, there's a lot!  And these are special, aren't they?  They're
not someone's snaps are they!"

     He turned the two larger pictures over carefully.

     "I wonder who took these?" he mused. "Have you shown anyone else?"

     I said I'd shown Matt 'cause his sister was keen on Chris.  Tony made
a very rude remark about what Chris had probably done with his cock.  I
dropped the pack of French letters in front of Tony.

     "Matt doesn't think so 'cause there are still three in the packet!"

     Tony sniggered, "Might be a second packet!  Anyway, can we have a
look?"

     I told him about Matt and my experiment with the one given to me by
cousin Gareth and we decided to try these out when we had more time.  After
further perusal and more discussion I gathered up the photos and popped
them back beneath the floorboards.

     "Can we look at them another time?" he asked.  Another Matt!  I said
we could but not to tell anyone else!

     Pa had news when he came home.  All three of us had passed the St
John's exam.  In fact, all three of us had got full marks!  I was very
pleased with myself and celebrated with a nice slow, quiet wank in bed that
night!

                                *

     I was up bright and early again and went off for a shorter run today.
Ma left me several chores to do including taking an order to Mr Gale at the
butcher's shop.  The assistant said it would be delivered later that
afternoon.  I wondered if Henry would be the delivery boy!

     Dead on two o'clock I saw Pat Halloran coming along the road on his
bike balancing a parcel on his handlebars.  I went out to meet him and took
the bundle from him as he parked his bike.

     "What on earth is in here?" I asked him, as the bulky bundle seemed to
contain a lot more than the uniform tops.

     "There's all the shoulder belts and the First Aid packs as well.  You
have to carry your equipment now you're qualified." he said, quite sternly.

     Oh, yes, anyone shot, bombed, or plain run over by a bus, was at the
mercy of my limited expertise.  I must have looked alarmed.

     "It's OK," he reassured me, "We always go about in pairs so you have
someone experienced to help you.  And you get in the football free, too!"

     This snippet of information was interrupted by the arrival of Matt
who, as usual, wore a worried air.

     "Sorry, am I late?" he asked, "Only I had to take some stuff back to a
shop for Julia and that took a time."

     Pat and I shook our heads and Pat pointed to the bundle I was holding.

     "No, I've only just got here.  And that's your uniform in there."

     I changed the subject.

     "Has Julia heard from Chris lately?" I asked, wanting to see the
reaction.  I was not disappointed.

     "No, I don't know.  Why?" Matt asked, shooting me another worried
look.

     "Just wanted to know.  I wondered if he was coming home soon."

     It was Matt's turn to change the subject.

     "I was so glad I passed," he said, "Julia told me.." He paused and
looked at Pat. "..Your dad told her and said I got full marks.  Is that
true?"

     "Yep," said Pat decisively, "Out of the twenty who took the exam there
were just you three with full marks and dad was ever so pleased.  He's
getting the Superintendent to write a letter to your Head."

     "Oh no," breathed Matt, "That means he'll tell everyone from the
platform and I'll feel all embarrassed again."

     "Not so embarrassed as if I wrote to tell him Chopper Ward has the
biggest dick in the class," I said, "Come on, let's go in and try this lot
on."

     Pat was giggling as I led the way in and directed them up the stairs.

     "We enjoyed ourselves at Fensham, didn't we, Matt?" I heard him say as
I struggled behind them with the bundle.

     "Oh, yes, I think we all did.  I was glad I went 'cause I was a bit
worried going and playing with all those older ones but it was all OK in
the end."

     Playing with all those older ones.  From what he told me he'd only
played with one... Oh, he meant Rugby!

     I dumped the parcel on the bed and Pat proceeded to undo it.  Inside
were four uniform tops plus our forage caps, badges, white belts and
pouches.

     "I brought four to make sure you had a good fit," he said, "It's
probably best not to wear a shirt underneath, just your vest especially in
the hot weather."

     Matt and I obediently stripped off our shirts and put on the tops
handed to us by Pat.  I did up the buttons and found mine fitted very well.
Matt tried on two tops before he was satisfied and then we were told how to
wear our hats and pouches and admonished to keep our badges and our shoes
shined.  We paraded up and down and looked at ourselves in my wardrobe
mirror.

     "Yes, lads," Pat said, looking amused, "You look very smart and you've
got to wear your uniform for the parade on Monday."

     Oh, gosh, I'd got to appear in public all dressed up.  Still, if Tom
and Dunc can go about in their Boys' Brigade uniform and all the Cadets
come to school anyway on parade days in uniform, I don't suppose anyone
will notice me!

     Matt was removing his top and folding it neatly.  He had a questioning
look on his face again.

     "Hey, Pat," he began slowly, "Can I ask you a personal question?"

     "What's that?" Pat replied.

     "Well, you don't mind if I ask you?"

     Pat shrugged his shoulders, Matt was being mysterious again.

     "Well, it's like this," Matt continued, "Jacko says you have to go to
confession so you have to keep count.."  He paused.  "..You know, count of
how many times..."  He shrugged his shoulders and fell silent.

     I waited a moment then decided to help him out.  "I think what Matt
wants to know is whether it's true you had to confess to twenty-six times
one week."

     Pat burst out laughing.  "One week!  Lots of weeks!!  Anyway, who told
you?  Was it Mike?"

     I nodded.  "Yes, he seemed quite envious of your record."

     He snorted. "Hnh..  I asked Bernie Gould what he did then I told him
about me and he laughed like a drain so he must have told Mike."

     "Matt's record is nineteen, or at least it was up to last week. Wasn't
it, Matt?"

     "It's twenty-two, actually," Matt said in a low voice. "Since last
Tuesday it's twenty-two."

     "Gosh, Matt, it wasn't on Sunday," I said with some astonishment.

     He grinned sheepishly. "I had to do it five times Monday and four
times yesterday, but I haven't done it today yet."

     "Come on," I said, "No time like the present.  You'd better start
now!"

     I quickly stripped off and displayed a rapidly rising dong.  Pat took
one look and was out of his things in seconds.  Slow-coach Matt took a bit
longer so I had a look at Pat who flexed his muscles as his cock also rose.
I noticed he had a rather large bruise under his ribs.  I remembered he was
boxing last Friday.

     "Did you get that boxing?" I asked, pointing at the purplish mark,
"Did you win?"

     He looked down and rubbed the spot.

     "Yes, he was a real scrapper and gave me a couple of quick left
handers but I won on points."

     He looked over at Matt who was still not completely undressed.  "I
beat you Friday and Saturday," he said to him, "'cos I was so worked up
after the fight I had to do it three times before I went to sleep and I did
it six times on Saturday!"

     "And then you had to confess?" I asked teasingly.

     "Not for all, 'cos it was four times on Saturday before I went to
confession and then twice in bed."  He grinned at me.  "Oh yes, it was old
Father Herlihy and all I got was two Hail Marys 'cause he couldn't hear
what I said.  But he said I had to say them 'cause I'd wilfully hurt
another creature and the old bugger was at the fight himself cheering me
on, the old hypocrite!"

     By this time Matt had struggled out of his pants and stood up
straight.
  His dick was straight up too!  Pat took one look at him.

     "Holy Mother of God, just look at that lad there!" he breathed
admiringly, "Gosh, I wish I'd got one like that!"

     Matt was looking intently at Pat and I noticed the pair of them were
the same height, but the difference in the size of their pricks was most
apparent.

     "I wish I had your muscles," said Matt, also admiringly.

     "Och, you can get those easily but you can't just grow one like that,
can you?" Pat said with a grin.  "God, you and Mike O'Brien make a fine
pair.  He's got a long 'un but yours is like a young ox!"  He looked over
at me. "And yours is big for a young 'un, ain't it?"

     By this time mine was straining at the leash as it were but I thought
Pat should do it first to Matt.  I was near the sink so grabbed a towel and
chucked it down.

     "Go on Pat, have a go!" I said, pointing at Matt.

     Pat immediately dropped to his knees, leaned forward and, stuck out a
long wet tongue.  He slowly licked upwards from where Matt's cock met his
balls and at the same time ringed his knob end with finger and thumb
drawing down his foreskin.  His tongue teased under the rim as he pulled up
and down quite slowly on Matt's thick prick until very suddenly Matt took a
deep breath and a small fountain of come erupted from his slit.  The jet
arched over Pat's head and splattered down on his naked back.  Pat stood up
still grasping Matt's still erect dong.

     "I didn't see it, but I felt it," he said, the spunk trickling down
his back. "Did you like that, Matt?" he asked.

     Matt was still breathing heavily. "Oh God, yes!" he murmured
emphatically, "That was good!"

     He reached down and held Pat's tool and began to toss him off facing
him.  I moved over and stood behind Pat and wiped most of the spunk off his
back with my face flannel.  I chucked that into the sink and put my left
arm round him across his chest while I felt for his balls with my right
hand.  As Matt pulled up and down I gently kneaded Pat's balls thinking
they were much bigger than his pal Mike's were.  I stroked his right nipple
with my left hand and he pressed his back against me so that my dick was
forced against the crack between his buttocks.  As Matt pulled so Pat's
cheeks massaged my dick.  Although I knew Pat was concentrating on what
Matt was doing he put his left hand behind him and drew me even closer
coating my front with the remainder of Matt's spunk.  If Pat didn't come
soon mine would be soon between us up alongside Matt's!  Pat's buttocks
twitched in a great spasm and I knew he'd come.  I peered round his
shoulder and saw he'd plastered Matt's chest with a liberal amount of
creamy spunk.

     By now I had the most almighty hard-on and felt I was also on the
verge of coming.  Matt must have let go of his cock as Pat turned and moved
behind me and jerked me off rapidly.  Poor old Matt had an even bigger
second helping of cream on his chest within a few seconds.

     "Jesus, Mary, you shoot a lot," said Pat as he stopped pounding my
throbbing shaft, "What with him with the enormous lad and you fetching so
much stuff I feel a bit inadequate."

     "But we can't do it as many times as you," I whispered as I got my
breath back.

     "And I want it again now," announced Pat, coming round me and
displaying a fully erect length again.  "Come on, Jacko, you do it to me
this time."

     Matt was still standing there, speechless, streams of spunk running
down his front and within a minute or so of my efforts Pat added another
load to the two already there.  We were all in fits of laughter which
dissolved into silence as Matt and I stood face to face and slowly and
carefully tossed each other off together.  Of course, my load, although a
lot less this time, hit him amidships and his come squirted onto my
stomach.

     "Well that's two rounds each, everyone wins on points," said Pat.
"Look, you watch while I do it to meself, eh?"

     His dick was soon stiff again and he closed his eyes and wanked
himself steadily for about three minutes, never wavering in his beat.
Again, I saw his buttocks twitch violently and for the third time he shot.
This time it just went over the towel as Matt had prudently moved to stand
by me to watch.

     Pat was a bit red in the face and panting.  "That's it for now, eh?
But I'll have two more tonight.  Pity we can't meet again then 'cos I'm
sure you'll be ready for another couple each, won't you?"

     Matt was still silent.

     "Matt was worried last week 'cos he'd worn a hole in his skin and it
hurt, and he'd only done it nineteen times," I said.

     "Gosh, mine's always sore," Pat said, "I do it carefully so it doesn't
get rubbed raw too much!  Still I can't stop, so..." He shrugged his
shoulders, "I like it too much, don't you, Matt?"

     Matt nodded in agreement.  His silence ended.

     "I want it again too," he murmured, his hefty dong rising as he made
the pronouncement.

     Pat and I looked at each other.  Pat moved over to him and stood
behind him.  This time I reached out and held Matt's balls as Pat jacked
him off.  A short, sharp burst of stuff was all he produced this time but
the look on his face was seraphic.

     Pat turned to me.  "Your turn now?" he asked.

     I couldn't let the side down.  My dick was rather limp and it felt a
bit sore.  I nodded.

     Pat knew exactly how to raise a flaccid tool.  I went very hard as he
massaged just under my knob end.  I stood, breathing in and out very deeply
as I felt the surges beginning in the root of my prick.  This time I didn't
produce much but it flew right over the towel and dropped on the lino by
the skirting board.  It was a good six or seven feet.

     "Holy God, Jacko!" Pat said and whistled under his breath, "I've never
seen stuff fly so far!"  "Have you?" he asked Matt.

     "He does it all the time," Matt said, "And he shoots more than anyone
else, too,"

     Pat felt for my balls.  "His are the same size as mine and they're not
as big as yours are they Matt?.  Where does it all come from?  And how do
you get it to go that far?"

     "Mike says it's a matter of physics," I informed them, "He says I have
a narrow slit and pipe so the pressure's greater."

     "Trust that bright idjit to know all that," said Pat, "Some other
fellah would say you had a big pump in there somewhere."

     "I haven't, it's all just me," I said, "Anyway, we've all had three
and that's made it eighteen in seven days for me."

     They both laughed.  I certainly hadn't beaten either of their records.
While we set about wiping each other down and dressing I told Pat we'd
found some old diaries at Ulvescott and explained how we knew the lad's
code.  Pat listened intently as I said he was still the winner because if
he was doing it at least twenty times a week that was over a thousand times
a year and Piers had done it less that nine hundred.  Pat said he didn't
realise it worked out like that and he would tot his all up as he made a
note before going to confession.

     There was a rather musty, fishy smell in the room when I came back
from seeing them out.  I opened a couple of windows and hoped nothing would
be too evident.  I had a look at the towel.  It was rather sticky so I
folded it carefully over the rail hoping it would dry out quickly.  I sat
and made up my diary entries and flicked back to view the accumulating
series of dots and crosses.  I expect there would be a good few more before
my first year ended, not as many as Pat though and probably not as many as
Piers or Matt.  Still, I shot plenty and it always gave my friends
something to remark on as it travelled so far.

     I was still idly thinking about the day's events when the backdoor
bell rang again.  I rushed down and who should be standing there but Henry
Gale.

     "I thought it would be you," he said, sounding rather ominous, "Here's
your mother's order.  Dad says there's a few sausages in there as well."

     I took the parcel rather gingerly wondering what he would say next.

     "Anyone in?" he asked.

     I shook my head.  What would come next.

     "You were one of the little buggers in the changing room, weren't
you?"  he said quietly in his gravelly voice.

     I nodded and gave a sheepish grin.

     He grinned back.  "Gave us a fright that did," he said more jovially,
"Watch it though, young Thomson, we might get our revenge!"  He winked
hugely, turned on his heel and departed, whistling Rule Britannia, round
the side of the house.

     Winked at by a Duchess and now by Henry Gale!  I turned and went to
the pantry and deposited the parcel on the marble slab.  At least he didn't
try to remove my sweetbreads for somebody's supper!

     Ma wanted to see me in my uniform when she arrived home so I dressed
up and paraded before her and Pa.  Pa made some remark about making sure he
didn't fall off his bike in my presence and Ma retorted that he had been
little help when she'd sprained her ankle coming down the mountain.  Pa
said she shouldn't have been so eager to get him back to her father's house
and she threw the tea towel she was holding at him.  She then said she
wanted the spare room cleared up for Uncle Alfred who would be arriving the
next afternoon so Pa and I had that job to do after supper.

     Three that day was my limit!  What with the triple excitements of the
afternoon plus the heaving and moving of various bits of furniture I went
to bed very tired and slept very soundly.


               To be continued:-