Date: Fri, 19 Sep 2003 22:26:33 +0000
From: Jo Vincent <joad130@hotmail.com>
Subject: Aladdin's Awakening:  Part 62

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.  Those so
far have been very helpful in that they have given me the encouragement to
persevere!

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 36

				 Part Two

		      Friday 29th September (Cont...)


Poor Pat.  He was quite disconcerted.  The bang on the head hadn't helped.
Hernia.  Circumcision.  Headache.  He closed his eyes.

     I went round by him and held his hand and squeezed it a bit.  "It's OK
Pat.  I was only joking.  The doctor said he would get Mr Symes to do it at
half-term."  Pat nodded slightly and pursed his lips.  "And he said no
heavy exercise - rugger or boxing."  He nodded again.

      "I suppose I'd better have it done," he whispered resignedly, "I was
born with it and should have had it done years ago."

     He was laying quietly and I was about to go when Nobbo's mum came back
in.  She said he would be taken along to a room at the end of the corridor
to be near the nurses' desk.  If he felt sick or anything strange to ring
the bell.  She said that Dr Maguire thought he had a slight concussion and
they would keep a good eye on him.

     I said I would pass on the message and off she went again.  I said to
Pat I would be going and I hoped he would be OK. He put a hand out and I
held it.

     "Thanks, you're a good mate.  Sorry if I've caused you any bother."

     I said he hadn't and I would pop in in the morning to see him and he'd
better rest completely during the night.  He got my meaning and as I turned
to leave the ungrateful lad gave me a vigorous two fingered salute!

     On the way out I saw Mrs Clarke and she said she would leave a message
for the day staff that I would be visiting him in the morning.  And not to
forget to visit Billy and the others at home in the afternoon.

     When I got back to the Parish Hall the last bout had already started.
I passed on the news that Pat was being kept in over night but no one
seemed too concerned.  Matt said he'd had to deal with another nosebleed
and Johnny said he preferred being on the First Aid side rather than in the
ring tonight because the visitors were a tough lot, but he was due to fight
in a joint team with the Catholics nearer Christmas.

                         *

     A run, breakfast, a chat in French, piano practice, homework, helping
Pa sort out newly dug potatoes in the shed, oil my bike chain.  A typical
Saturday morning for a growing boy.  All this before eleven o'clock when I
set off to visit Pat.  He was in a separate room like Cleggy had been in
when he had his circumcision.  He was lying down but seemed quite restless.

     "Thank God you've come," he said after I'd greeted him and asked how
he was.  "Oh God, if I don't do it I'll go barmy.  I mustn't get out so
would you pass me that face-cloth from over there on the sink?"

     I didn't ask, I knew.  I got the face-cloth and handed it to him.  He
immediately put it in the bed with him.  There were a few rapid ups and
downs under the covers, then a sigh and a look of sweet contentment on his
face.  A pause then some slower more deliberate movements.  He looked over
at me and grinned.

     "D'you mind washing it out for me, please?" he said and winked.
"Thank God, I couldn't have waited much longer."

     He drew out the now-folded face-cloth and I took it over to the sink
and washed it out.  Naturally, I unfolded it first to have a look.  Umh,
quite a goodly amount, but then, he hadn't had a wank since...?  I was just
finishing rinsing it when the door opened and a head popped round.  It was
his opponent, Pete, from the night before.

     "Can I come in?" he asked rather shyly, "I had to see how you were."

     Pat smiled and beckoned him in.  "I'm OK," he said, "Bruised chin and
a sore head that's all."

     The lad's worried look went and he smiled too.  "Oh good," he
breathed, "I didn't sleep much last night.  I'm sorry I belted you like
that but I just let fly!"

     I thought I would try a little diversion. "Where shall I put this?" I
said, holding up the opened out face-cloth, "Over here, or do you want it
back there?"

     Give him his due, Pat went slightly red.  "Over there," he said
curtly.

     The other lad laughed.  He knew.

     "Don't worry about me," he said, "First things first."  He grinned
across at me.  "He's improving, eh?"  I grinned back.

     After that the two lads got on well.  The other lad was a farmer's son
and worked for his father.  He said the hard work on the farm kept him in
trim.  He was seventeen, just a bit younger than Pat.  I left them to it,
the last I heard was Pete inviting Pat to visit the farm and see what it
was like.

     As soon as I'd had lunch I cycled round to Nobbo's to see Billy.  Mrs
Clarke had gone shopping so I followed Nobbo, who had answered the door, up
to his room. As well as the three of them, Cleggy was also there.  Billy
was in full flow and Nobbo told him he'd better start again telling us all
about barrack-room life as he'd missed the beginning and I'd only just
arrived.

     "Hi, Jacko," said Billy jovially, "I started off because I didn't want
to sully my brother's little ears with some of my tales."

     "Oh, shut up, Billy!" said Nobbo, "I know enough about you, dirty
beast, so don't tease us like that."

     Billy made a face.  "Oh, Oh, touche," he said, "So where had I better
start?"

     Cleggy laughed, "You were just going to tell us about the 3 F's."

     Nobbo butted in, "What's the three F's?

     Billy held up his hand, "Hold on, everything will be revealed, as the
actress said to the bishop."

     "What's that?" demanded Nobbo.

     "Oh, just a saying.  Now, shut up and listen!"

     Nobbo and I had perched ourselves on the edge of Nobbo's desk while
Cleggy and Hal were sitting side by side on the bottom bunk.  Billy was
sitting on a chair he'd moved away from the desk.  Billy turned a bit to
face Nobbo and me.

     "I'd only just started so I won't have to repeat many things.  I'd
just told them about our intake at the training camp.  As I just said there
were about two hundred of us all arrived together on that Thursday and we
were herded into squads before being sorted out properly that first
weekend.  That's as far as I'd got, so I'll tell you a bit more about that.
Of course, we were all in civvies and that first night was chaos.  We were
marched to the cookhouse and had to collect our eating irons, tin plate and
mug first and we were warned never to lose them or we wouldn't be eating
food in the future.  This was about five o'clock and then we had to parade
for an FFI and checks on who we were."

     "What's FFI?  You said three F's," demanded Nobbo.

     "Oh, shut up, Nobbo, they're different.  I'll tell you all, now wait!"
Billy was getting a bit edgy with Nobbo's constant interruptions.

     "Now, FFI means Free From Infection."  Nobbo was about to say
something like "What's that?" so I jabbed him in the ribs with my elbow.
He took the hint.
  Billy went on, "We were all lined up with all these clerks checking us
off.  I was in the A to C lot and that was chaotic as some blokes didn't
even know what letter their surnames began with!  We got issued with
dog-tags as well."  He opened his shirt and displayed the two red discs
round his neck on what looked like a leather bootlace.  He laughed.  "Got
to remember your number till you peg out, 722 Private Clarke, William,
that's me."

     He pulled the dog-tags off over his head and handed them to Hal, who
looked at them and passed them to Cleggy as Billy continued..

     "Then as we finished with the clerk checking our details and handing
those out we then had to go and line up to be inspected by a pox doctor's
clerk" He looked at Nobbo, "That's what you'll be, I expect, in the RAMC,
Medical Corps."  He laughed, "Before we got to him some sergeant told us to
drop our trousers and pull our pants down.  You can imagine it, a line of
us, shuffling along holding our trousers round our legs with one hand and
holding up our shirts with the other.  Then this bloke lifts your dong with
a little stick and riffles through your short and curlies with it - and
before you ask 'Why?', Nobbo - it's to check if your dick is dropping off
with the pox and to see if you've got lice or other creepie-crawlies
elsewhere."  We looked at each other with looks of horror on our faces.
Billy laughed, "It's true.  The bloke next to me was told to go to another
table and the last I saw of him he was stripped bare with three of them
giving him a full examination with rubber gloves on."  He looked at Nobbo
and me and then Cleggy.  "Bit of the old full kit inspection, eh?"  We
laughed.

     "Why do that the first night?" asked Hal.

     "Well, you wouldn't want anyone with creepy-crawly crabs in the bed
next to you, would you?  That's why."

     He looked round at us all, all rather stunned.  I scratched just above
my prick. Crabs?  Thinking about such things made you itch.  Billy laughed
and pointed.

     "Jacko's worried."

     I wasn't the only one, both Cleggy and Hal were having a little
squirm.

     "Better get on before you're all inspecting each other!" laughed
Billy.
  "God, all that took hours and we ended up in some barrack room, about
twenty of us, just herded in and left and told lights out at ten and
reveille would be at six in the morning.  Nobody said anything, we went to
the latrines, undressed and went to bed.  Then the first of the three F's!"

     He looked round at us.  "Three F's, farting, fighting and, if I dare
say it in this mixed company...," his voice dropped to a whisper,
"...fucking!"

     We were hanging on his words.  F, F and F!

     "First of the F's" he went on, "If one of them farted then at least
half did.  No other sound, just the poop, poop, or the more daring
raspberry - I thought it used to be bad enough at camp but this was horr
ren dous!"  He laughed and we were giggling a bit.
  "It died down and I just dropped off, exhausted, to be woken what seemed
like two minutes later by this bloody bell.  Six a.m.  Sergeant at the door
banging it with his cane, 'Stand by your beds!'.  Some of us were in
pyjamas, some in just their undies but four were standing there bollock
naked, one of them with a hard-on.  The sergeant came in, went up to him,
tapped the end of it with his cane and it wilted.  "Can't have that, can
we, soldier," he said and shouted out some incomprehensible order about get
washed, breakfast six thirty, parade at seven, and then he marched out.
And it went on from there."

     He paused for breath.  We were agog.

     "More?" he asked.  We all nodded.

     "Phhh," he went, exhaling, "What next?  Oh, breakfast, then uniforms.
No measuring, some bloke looks at you and goes off to the racks and comes
back with tunic and trousers, another bloke dishes out shirts, pants, socks
and the real humdinger is boots.  They did ask what size, I said I took
size ten shoes and a large pair of boots came whizzing across the table.
We were then marched back clutching all this lot and told to change into
uniform.  What a shambles!  At least my jacket and trousers fitted.  Both
shirts looked like bell tents and the socks were huge.  Luckily with the
thickness of the socks my boots fitted."  He bent down and fished under the
bunk next to him and drew out a pair of very highly polished boots.  "There
you are," he said, proudly, "My pride and joy.  Cost me sixpence to have
them done like that."

     Nobbo was just about to ask another question and got another jab from
me.

     "It was a shambles," he said, putting the boots down beside him,
"Sleeves too long, trousers too short, waists too big and so on.  The
sergeant came back in, took one look and said something about 'those
fucking tailors' - that's the third F, more later.  We all got marched back
to the uniform stores and the sergeant bellowed and the blokes were still
handing out stuff to the rest of the intake but he made them change things
until some fat bloke with crowns on his arms came out and the two of them
had a shouting match.  It didn't matter 'cause all the changing still went
on and other sergeants joined in because their squads weren't being dealt
with.  I managed to pinch two more shirts and pairs of socks and pants
while no one was looking."

     Nobbo managed to ask a question before I could jab him again.  "Why
were your lot in first?"

     "Because we were in the A to C's and had the barrack-room nearest the
stores."

     "Oh," said Nobbo and relapsed into silence, for once.

     "After that it was all downhill," said Billy, laughing.  "We had to go
to another stores for other kit and after lunch we had injections and
smallpox jabs."  He drew up the sleeve of the khaki shirt he was wearing.
"Here, have a look."  There was a small circular, slightly red patch on the
upper part of his arm.  "Had one when I was a kid but they did it again."
I nodded, I already had a smallpox vaccination mark as well.  "Those other
jabs were lethal.  We were told we didn't have to parade on the Saturday
morning and no wonder.
  Some of the blokes seemed almost delirious and I had a dreadful headache.
During the afternoon a doctor came round to check on everyone and said we
would be OK in the morning."

     "And were you?" queried Nobbo.

     "Within reason, dear boy.  May I continue?"  We all nodded.  "Later
Saturday afternoon a clerk came round with a list and we were told which
training squads we would be in.  They divide you out by religion, about
twenty to a squad, one to eight were C of E, nine, the one I was in, were
Dissenters and ten was R.C."

     "What's all those, then?" asked Nobbo.

     "Oh, Nobbo, you should know.  C of E is Church of England and R.C. is
Roman Catholic, then there was us lot, Methodists, like us," he said,
counting off on his fingers, "Baptists, Sally Army, Quakers, uuuh," he
paused, in thought, "Oh, Church of Scotland, Christadelphians, Brethren,
other Protestants and Jews.  All put together and we were the Dissenters,
not Church of England."  He looked round.  "They had to tell us on Saturday
because there was a compulsory church parade on Sunday at nine o'clock and
after that we had to go to our proper barrack-rooms."

     All rather complicated, I thought.  Odd, dividing up by religion.
What would I be?  I couldn't say I believed anything.  Ma and Pa never went
to church although Ma's dad had been a Reverend Professor.  He must have
been Protestant as I knew Roman Catholic priests mustn't marry.  I would
have to ask Ma sometime.

     "Anyway, we're all divided up, about twenty to a squad, there were
twenty-two in ours and twenty-five in the RC's - more of them - someone
said they breed like rabbits and have large families, true, isn't it? - ah,
and then there was the second F, fighting!"

     He paused for breath again and looked round at his captivate audience.

     "Fighting!  Saturday night some of us were feeling better and went
round to the NAAFI.  They only have beer in there on a Saturday night and
there were about ten of the Catholic lads, half and half Jocks and
Liverpool Irish from the sound of it and they must have had a few each.
Next thing to happen was the Jocks belting the Irish and the Orderly
Sergeant came in with a couple of the guard and got them outside and back
to the barrack- room they were in.  They were quiet for about ten minutes
and we were all back in ours next door to them when all hell was let loose,
they were at it again.  They might be all Catholics but the Jocks and the
Irish just don't mix!  And, I tell you this, you don't want to get in the
way of a Glasgow kiss!"

     "What's that?" asked a puzzled Hal for the rest of us.

     Billy laughed.  "It's a head butt.  Straight between the eyes.
Vicious!  Two blokes were out cold that night and just lay there."  He
grinned at us.  "Ended up with one bloke too lazy to go to the bogs pissing
straight out of the window and just missing the Orderly Sergeant who was
coming back with more of the guard to quieten things down.  There were six
of them marched straight to the cells and it was quiet after that.  Funny,
next morning when we were all getting ready for the church parade their
padre came early and was laying down the law in their room - we could hear
him next door.  He said he wasn't having any of them to Mass and communion
without confessions now, this minute!  One of our lot went and had a peep
and said they were all kneeling by their beds.  At least, we weren't
fighting!"

     "What about the third F?" asked Nobbo.

     "I'm coming to that, just wait," said Billy with a grin.  "Trust you
to want to know about it."  He grinned, and shook his head.  "I never knew
that every word and every sentence could contains so many fucks!  Not so
much our lads, very few of us actually swore at all, but the Catholics and
most of the others, well, you've never heard anything like it.  'Get the
fuck on parade', 'abso-fucking-lutely', 'where the fuck this?' and 'where
the fuck that?' - just went on all the eff-ing time as the Jewish lad in
the bed next to me said.  Then, of course, the general topic of
conversation is fucking.  What they'll do to their girl-friend when they
get some leave, or what they've done already.  I don't believe half, no, a
quarter of it.  I bet most of them have never wetted their whistle anyway.
Best just to keep quiet."

     "Didn't your squad swear then?" asked Hal.

     Billy shook his head.  "No, quite a few were quite religious, but they
were all OK.  We just listened in amazement to the others, especially that
lot in the barrack-room next to us.  They never stopped.  Couldn't
understand half of 'em, had thick Scots accents, Glasgow someone said."

     Cleggy wanted to know what training he had to do.  Billy snorted.

     "Marching up and down, Eyes Right, salute, then march up and down
again.  Shambles again.  Some of them couldn't get the hang of right arm
with left leg and so on.  At least the Sally Army lads and me knew how to
march!  Hunh, and then we had to be issued with rifles for rifle drill.
Three of our squad refused to touch a rifle, the two Sally Army lads and
the Quaker.  They were marched off and last we heard they were going into
the Medics.  I missed one of them, he was great fun."

     "Anything else?" queried Cleggy.

     "If by anything else you mean what I think you mean, then, no," Billy
said with a grin.  "No one ever mentioned wanking or anything, except one
bloke did say he hadn't had a hard- on since he joined up.  Story is they
put something in your tea, bromide or something.  Too tired to do anything
I think's the answer - though..." he paused, "...I think the chap opposite
me got the fidgets one night.  All I know is that I had no desires for at
least a week and then I had to slink off to the latrines for a crafty one."
He looked round at us and waggled his eyebrows.  "Noticed others slinking
off too!"

     I think we were too boggled to ask any questions on that matter.
Billy was grinning to himself.

     "Of course, there was that film they showed us!"  He waited for
effect.
  What film?  He enlightened us.  "This film showed you what happens when
you shag girls who are none too clean!"

     "What do you mean, 'none too clean'?" queried Nobbo.

     Billy laughed more.  "You get VD, Venereal Disease.  The pox,
syphilis, clap, gonorrhea, you name it.  That film's a real frightener.
They show dicks with great suppurating sores, holes in them, bits missing.
Then balls with huge ulcers full of pus, ...ugh, it was awful!  Some blokes
fainted and had to be carried out.  I watched it but I did feel a bit sick
when they showed this bloke with half his face missing 'cause it'd been
eaten away by the pox.  So watch it, young Nobbo!  You be careful what
crevices you poke your knob end into!  And you others, just watch it!"

     The descriptions made us all writhe a bit.  What with the lad with the
creepy-crawlies and now the images of rotting cocks, Oh gosh!  I thought of
Matt's certainty he'd caught the pox when he found a hole in his foreskin.
This all sounded a thousand times
  more gruesome.  However, I noticed Cleggy nodding knowledgeably.

     "Saw a couple of pictures in one of dad's textbooks," he said, "They
were horrible."

     "You didn't show me," exclaimed Nobbo, "Why not?"

     "Because we haven't read all that stuff yet," said Cleggy, airily.
"We're still reading the introductory textbooks."

     Nobbo still looked a bit miffed but Billy started to laugh again.

     "I shouldn't have told you all that I suppose but you'll find all that
out sooner or later!  Anyway, I'll tell you this, there are some dafties
about.  The squaddies next door always ran out of money by Tuesday.  All of
them smoked like chimneys and they liked a drink or two, or three, on a
Saturday - so by Tuesday, no cash.  Ciggies are eight pence a pack so some
of us would lend them eight pence a time and after pay parade on Thursdays
they paid back ten pence."  He laughed.  "And not one of them twigged it
was twenty-five per cent interest for two days.  One of our blokes said he
wasn't surprised 'cause his father had been a pastor in Liverpool and said
the tally-man came round every week to most of the Irish to collect the
money owed on goods bought plus the interest."

     Billy wasn't finished and by the grin on his face I thought there must
be something interesting coming.

     "Hey, Georgie, did you know it's an offence in the Army to have a
tattoo?"

     Cleggy shook his head and said he didn't and anyway their gardener had
been a soldier and he had tattoos all up his arms.

     "Yeah, but as long as nothing goes wrong it's OK."  He lowered his
voice to a conspiratorial whisper.  "D'you know what the lads were having
done?"

     We all shook our heads.

     "Yeah," he said, "Some of them had the name of their home town
tattooed up the side of their dicks."

     "You haven't have you?" a rather startled Nobbo asked.

     "I'd be all right with Kerslake, wouldn't I?" he said with a grin not
really answering the question.  He went on..."There was a lad from Norwich,
he was OK, and another who just managed Sheffield."  He looked at us
goggling at him.  "The lad from Cornwall was glad he came from Looe and as
for the Welsh lad from Aberystwyth, you could only see the Aber bit on a
cold day..."  He pursed his lips, "..And the Jewish lad in the bed next to
me came from 'ackney!"

     There was silence, until Billy cackled and Nobbo burst out, "You're
pulling our legs!"

     "Caught you, didn't I," chortled Billy, "You were all wondering if
Kerslake would fit you.  And you, Hal, you were born in Bishop's Stortford,
so think of that!  Have to do it round yours in a spiral, eh?"

     "Fool!" said Nobbo, "So, how much of the other stuff do we believe
now?"

     "All of it!" said Billy, "Yeah, the rest is OK."

     He then said he had finished his basic training and, like the rest,
was now ready for posting to other units.  Most of them would be going to
infantry battalions, some to the artillery, others for driving, or for
signals and such-like, but he'd been chosen to go on a Sergeant Tester's
course with two others.  We wanted to know what that was and he explained
that when you got called-up you had to go to the Recruiting Office where
you had a medical and took some tests.  A Sergeant Tester supervised these
and marked them and sent the results on with all the other documents.
Cushy job was the general opinion.  Trust Billy to land something like
that!

     Billy was just going to start another tale when we heard Mrs Clarke
downstairs.  We all trooped down and she looked proudly at her tall son,
not very military looking, though.

     "I suppose he's been telling you all his adventures, eh?" she said
laughing, "Don't believe a word!"

     We all laughed and Cleggy said he knew Billy of old so everything had
to be taken with a pinch of salt.  Billy gave him a thump in the back for
that, but Cleggy only laughed.

     Anyway, we had a good tea and Billy just described a few things
including sitting in the NAAFI one evening when a bloke came along and
asked him and the lad he was talking to if they would read a letter for him
he received from his girlfriend.  They found out the bloke just couldn't
read so they went through it with him.  When Mrs Clarke was in the kitchen
he said the chap often asked them to read letters from her after that and
also to write notes back.  Billy said, very slyly, that they made up some
bits pretending the girl had written them and also put some very rude
things in the letters back.  He couldn't say any more as his mum came back
in so we would have to wait to hear what they said and put another time.

                         *

     I thought about Billy's tales over the weekend and thought I wouldn't
like to be called up.  I just wondered when the war would end.  Pa was
always glued to the wireless for the nine o'clock news and all this week
had been commenting on the fact that the Americans had made advances in
Holland so things must be getting better.  Ma, of course, was worried about
Uncle Alfred as we hadn't heard from him, then Monday morning there was a
letter from him in an American Forces envelope.  He said he was OK and that
he hoped to see us all soon.  We couldn't work out where he was as there
was no address to write back to other than a Forces Post Office.  Still, Ma
was a bit more cheerful.

     Monday evening, after my piano lesson I was getting dressed in my SJAB
uniform when Ma called up the stairs that I had a visitor.  It was Kanga
who was going to join.  When we got to the Ambulance Hall Pat wasn't there.
Mr Halloran said he'd been told to rest for a couple of days so another of
the Senior Cadets took Kanga off to enrol him.  We didn't see Kanga again
that evening as he went off to work with the other young lad who'd joined
recently.

     I wasn't looking forward to the match on Wednesday and nor was
worry-guts Matt.  He'd come home with me on Tuesday to go over the maths
homework.  He was a bit more relaxed after our wank we had together and
then even more relaxed when he found he did understand that one could
construct a square equal in area to a given rectangle.  But he was much
exercised about the forthcoming game.  Hero Matt, who'd played in a First
XV game worried about the poxy Catholic XV?  Non-hero Jacko was equally
worried!  I didn't let on, just put on a show of bravado.

     The show of bravado was necessary as the Catholic lads looked an evil
lot in their green and yellow hooped shirts.  To boost our morale Rabbity
had issued us with old First XV shirts, which for the most part looked as
if they had come out of the Ark and smelt quite strongly of mothballs.  We
rampaged up and down the pitch and someone managed to score two tries for
us.  I was too busy keeping up with the pack to notice who.  I did tackle
one slippery customer from the other side in the first half and the ball
passed to one of our side so I was pleased about that.  At the end we had a
drawn match so honour was satisfied on all sides.  I was knackered.  Ninety
minutes of rushing up and down was worse than any of my runs and I also had
a bruise where I had got in the way of another bullock (metaphorically, as
I assume he was fully equipped) of a forward from their side and although I
tackled him I landed heavily on the hard ground.  Rabbity was actually full
of praise for us but it didn't last because the next PT lesson, on Friday,
was taken up with a full scale onslaught of boy torture, to toughen us up,
as he said.


                    Saturday September 30th 1944

     My fifteenth birthday!!  I'd celebrated the ending of my fifteenth
year last night with two slow, glorious wanks.  This morning I woke very
early and lay and luxuriated with the first wank of my sixteenth year.  I
didn't feel like running today.  After I'd mopped up my creamy spunk I just
lay there thinking about the past year.  What a year!  I'd had so many new
excitements, thrills, dramas, delights, you name them, I'd had a packed
year.  I thought of my friends, old and new and thought I was a very lucky
lad.

     I got up and washed and dressed and was down looking for breakfast
about eight o'clock.  Ma was in the kitchen and was humming a merry tune.
I heard Pa in his study and Ma told me to go and fetch him as breakfast was
ready.  In the dining room there was a little pile of envelopes.  Birthday
cards!  I opened some just before Ma came in with a plate of bacon and
eggs.  Two eggs!  Cards from Grandma and Granddad, Auntie Fay and Uncle
Dick, one signed by the three boys, one from Uncle Edward and Auntie Della
(signed that way!), and one from Lachs and the Flea (signed that
way!). There was also one from Ulvescott which was signed Bran - but I
recognised Miss Pike's handwriting on the envelope!  There was also one
with an American stamp.  From my cousins, Chuck and Sam, in the States.  Pa
said I was lucky to get that as mail across the Atlantic was very unusual
at the present time and they must have posted it ages ago and it had
actually arrived during the previous week.  They said they hoped to see me
at some time as they'd heard about me from their dad.

     I didn't think about it at the time but it was odd there were no cards
from any of my friends.  Nothing from Tom, or Matt, or Tony.  Still bacon
and eggs for a Saturday breakfast wasn't bad until I realised Pa was
giggling to himself.

     "Sorry it's a bad time, Jacko.  Can't see any presents."  He chuckled
again and just then Ma came in with another pot of tea.

     "Don't tease him, James," she said, pouring out another cup for each
of us.  "Happy birthday, dear.  Once you drink that up you'd better go and
have a look in the garage."

     I looked from one to the other.  We are a solemn family at the best of
times, I suppose.  I put the cup down and rushed out accompanied by
laughter.

     And there it was!  In the garage!  With a big label saying "HAPPY
BIRTHDAY!"  A new bike!  Just like Tom's!

     I rushed back indoors and hugged and kissed Ma, then hugged and kissed
Pa.  Solemnity, my foot!  Then I had other news.  Eleven of my friends
would be coming to tea.  Pa said it was a bit like the Last Supper and Ma
said don't be blasphemous and anyway there were thirteen there.  I wanted
to know all the arrangements and Ma said I wasn't to worry as long I did
some piano practice and got my homework done!  Couldn't I ride my new bike?
Yes!.  This was interrupted by a ringing of the backdoor bell.  It was Tom,
his face wreathed in smiles.

     "D'you like it?" he asked as I opened the door to let him in.  "Sean
brought it round to ours yesterday afternoon and mum did the label for it."

     Sean?  Oh yes, the boxer who worked at the garage.

     "You knew and never said!" I accused him.

     "'Cause I did," he laughed.  "That's what your dad and me were
discussing the other day.  I went and saw the chap at the shop because I
knew he's got another one just like mine."

     He came through to the dining-room and was offered breakfast which he
wolfed down and I bet he'd already had some at home!  I was let off the
leash and told not to be late for lunch, as if I ever was!  We went for a
long bike-ride.  It was marvellous - a drop-handled racer just like Tom's.
Comfortable, easy to ride.  Tom said I looked much better on this one.  The
other was much too small for me.  We were well out in the country-side when
Tom said he wouldn't mind stopping for a few minutes.  There was an old
barn or sheep-fold by the side of the lane and we parked our bikes and went
inside.

     "I've got something for you as well," he said, "But I bet it's not the
first for your birthday!"

     I knew exactly what he meant.  I said no it wasn't as I had woken up
early.  He nodded and grinned.

     "Ready, again, though?"

     I was.  He was.  He fisted my cock.  I fisted his.  My first come with
a friend of my sixteenth year.  My second come of my sixteenth year.
Ohhhh.  If it was going to be like this.... ohhhhh.

     Tom came in for lunch as well, as his mother and Mrs Ward were there
helping Ma.  I had clean forgot it was Matt's sixteenth birthday tomorrow
and what about a card and present.  Not to worry, Ma whispered that she had
both.  Thank God for mothers!

     Then we had to get the dining room ready with the plates of sandwiches
and the cakes and the jellies and the fruit for the visitors.  Visitors?  A
group of rangy, hunky, skinny, brawny, and, no doubt all horny,
adolescents, all older than me on this my birthday except for Nobbo and
Benno.  As well as them and Matt and Tom, there was, Mike, Vince, Cleggy,
Roo, Tony, Peter Fry and Tim Parker.  A good time was had by all.  I had a
card each from them and a puncture repair kit, bicycle clips and a red tail
light from all of them.  There was even a card from Kanga and Roo whispered
he'd been miffed at not being invited!

     I was so happy!  In bed that night I just had to have two more wanks!
My poor cock, I thought, if I carry on like this you'll be sore!  Full of
festering holes like Billy's cocks!  I couldn't care less and woke up at
two o'clock in the morning and had another!  Wow!!

     All that expenditure of energy didn't stop me going for a run on
Sunday morning.  I timed it so I would be able to help Tom with his papers.
He was happy too.  He had heard his promotion in the Boys' Brigade had been
confirmed to take effect from his sixteenth birthday in November.  Gosh, we
were all growing up.  Fast!


To be Continued:.....................