Date: Thu, 25 Sep 2003 21:36:58 +0000
From: Jo Vincent <joad130@hotmail.com>
Subject: Aladdin's Awakening:  Part 63

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.

			    ALADDIN'S AWAKENING

				    By

				   Joel


				Chapter 37

				 Part One

			  Monday October 9th 1944

Nobbo and Cleggy had taken on keeping the Biology lab tidy.  This had been
the job of two of the Sixth Formers who had left on call-up.  As they
wanted to train as doctors they were going to take Biology anyway at Higher
School Cert in a couple of years time and Mr Coles, the part-time Biology
master, needed assistants, so they volunteered.  This meant getting the
room ready each evening after school for the things to be done the next
day.
  They had actually started before the end of last term so were very much
into the swing of things now.  They seemed most efficient at getting out
microscopes and slides and the preparations we had to study.

     At break-time in the afternoon they asked if I minded helping them
with something after school.  I said I couldn't hang about for long as I
had to be home for a piano lesson then St John's.  They said they would
explain and they just wanted my opinion and, perhaps, my help.  I was
intrigued and after the final bell went followed them along to the lab.  It
took them just a few minutes to clear up after Mr Coles left - I was said
to be an extra assistant for the day.

     "Jacko," said Nobbo, as he closed and locked the stockroom door,
"You're good at maths and things so you can work any problems out for us,
would you?"

     Cleggy, quiet for once, came up and stood by him and produced a rather
thick book from his school satchel.

     "Look," he said, "We've been reading more of my dad's medical books.
Bit gruesome some of them and Nobbo's seen the pictures I said about so
he's happy now, but there's this chapter here."

     I took the book, it's title was something like Physiological Processes
for General Medicine, but Cleggy took it back before I had a good look at
it and opened it where there was a piece of paper marking a page.

     "It's here.  This chapter is on reproductive processes and we want you
to work something out for us."  He giggled.  "You don't mind?"

     I shook my head.  I had no idea what he was driving at.

     "Look, I'll show you."  He ran his finger down the page.  It says here
that the average output of semen in an ejaculation is three and a half
cubic centimetres....."

     He was interrupted by Nobbo who appeared brandishing a test-tube.

     "....And this is three and a half cubic centimetres.... of water,"
Nobbo said with a laugh.

     Cleggy wasn't going to be interrupted.  "What we want to know is how
much all of us make, say, in a week."

     "What do you mean?" I asked, staring at the small amount of water in
the test tube held up by Nobbo.

     "Well, if we're supposed to make three and a half ccs each time, do
we?
  And, if someone does it every day, is it always the same?"

     I said the only way to find out would be to get the victims to squirt
into a test-tube each time they had a wank.

     Nobbo groaned.  "We have, but it's difficult.  We've tried!"

     "He missed the first time, so since then we've used a small glass
beaker, just fits over the end," broke in Cleggy, "But then we found we
couldn't measure it 'cause it wouldn't all pour out."

     They both giggled and Nobbo held up the test tube again, swirling the
water around.

     "When did you do all this?" I asked.

     "Last week when we knew how things worked around here.  No one comes
in after Mr Coles goes until old Harry comes round after five o'clock to
clear the bins and sweep up.  We've got the keys so we lock the lab door
and go into the storeroom," said Nobbo.

     "Yeah, that's where we were when he missed.  I made him clear up the
mess he made on the floor!" said Cleggy with a grin.

     "So," said Nobbo, poking Cleggy in the ribs, "How are we all going to
measure and find out?"

     "Who's all?" I asked, "I suppose you, and him and Hal?"

     They both laughed and pointed at me.  They included me in their group
of horny wankers.  Why?  I thought.  Hunh!  True!!

     Having watched Nobbo swirling the water around gave me an idea.  I
suggested they might get a measure if they shot off in the beaker, then
added a known quantity of water.  If they then shook the mixture up the
initial viscosity (lovely word I'd read when I was looking for oil to
lubricate the steam engine) might be broken down and then they could
measure it again and subtract.  In fact, I'd noticed how the spunk mixed
with water when I turned the tap on in my sink at home.  They both nodded.

     "We knew you'd come up with an answer," said Cleggy.  "What we want to
know is, will you join the team?"

     "Team?" I asked.

     "Well, Pete Fry's another one."

     I thought of the back of the SJAB hall and the amount Pete shot.  I
wouldn't let on.  But then, they knew I'd also tossed off all the boys in
the form.

     "Yeah, who else?"

     "What about Matt?" Nobbo asked.

     I shook my head.  I said I didn't think Matt would join in anything
like that.  I said Roo might, but I was doubtful about Tony.

     "Now," said Nobbo, "It's says here some research in Germany found boys
of fifteen in a gymnasium did it on average three times a week."  He
laughed.  "Did they ask them when they were doing PT.  Think of old Rabbity
going round asking you your score, eh?"

     I said a Gymnasium in Germany was a school.  A Grammar school like
ours.  They both said "Oh".  Ideas of a German Rabbity ticking off scores
in a book receded.  But someone must have asked.

     Nobbo nodded then looked at Cleggy.  "Three times a week.  Bit behind
you, eh, George?"

     "Shut up," said Cleggy, "What about you?"

     "Well, I don't mind you or Jacko knowing, 'cause I've told him about
Hal as well!"

     "But," I asked, "If you do it lots do you always make three and half
ccs?  You'd have to measure it every time."

     They decided that would be a bit difficult unless they refrained until
they could get to the storeroom after school.  I said they'd better start
with themselves and see.

     "What about you?...." said Cleggy.

     "....We want to test you 'cause we both know you make more than us,"
chimed in Nobbo.  "We're just curious."

     "I thought this was all for scientific interest," I said.

     They laughed.  "It is," said Cleggy, "But we can get a bit of fun at
the same time!"

     Hunh.  I suppose so.  Anyway I said I had to go as I had to get to my
piano lesson.  I did have some time, but tossing off into a beaker with
those two watching?  Well, I suppose I could.  Actually, I knew I could.
But not this afternoon.  See what happened later.  I said I'd better go and
they said they would let me know if my suggestion worked.  The last thing I
heard as I went down the corridor was the key being turned in the lock of
the lab door.

     At SJAB that evening I refrained from saying anything to Benno or
Matt, but when I saw Peter Fry bandaging up a newcomer as practice I
wondered as he shot about the same as I did whether we might practice that
again.  But, no, I thought I would leave it to Cleggy and Nobbo to check
whether Peter and I produced much more than three and a half ccs.


     When I got home I thought a bit more about the numbers.  There were
sixteen, now, in our class and I knew from personal experience that
everyone tossed off regularly.  I didn't know how many times a week but I
guessed it was at least, if not more times, than the German boys.  Then
there were sixteen also in the parallel class, 5S.  They all wanked as
well.  I did a quick count up of the Second Year Sixth Form as I knew from
Matt's experiences that Andy Symes did so the others must do as well, and
there was the First Year Sixth with Chris Payne and Greg Hall.  As they
did, I assumed all the rest did.  So I thought there must be about 20 or so
in the combined Sixth Forms.

     Oh, Gosh!  Then there were the Fourth Years - like us last year - they
must all be at it and there were at least twenty-three in each of those
Fourth Forms as there were returned evacuees making up numbers.  So that
made a hundred - adding a couple for anyone missed - and I certainly hadn't
included any Third Years though I knew Kanga and Benno's brother James were
wanking.  Oh, as a safe guess add ten of them and make it a hundred and
ten!  I thought three times a week was a bit low.  All my friends seemed to
be doing it every day, but did that mean a whole three and half ccs every
day.  Again, to be on the safe side I thought five times a week times three
and a half ccs for each lad.  And then for one hundred and ten.  That made
it 1.925 litres per week.

     As I had only a vague idea of what a litre was I looked in my maths
book and found a conversion table.  One litre was equal to 1.759 Imperial
pints.  Crumbs that was over three and a third pints for us lot a week.  I
giggled.  I could imagine that.  Each morning we had a third of a pint of
milk each at break-time.  That was over ten of those small bottles a week.
That would fill plenty of Nobbo and Cleggy's measuring cylinders!

     I did another quick calculation and this showed that all of us
together would produce twenty-two gallons of spunk of a year!  Wait until I
tell Cleggy and Nobbo that in the morning!!

     Of course, all these were estimates for the fourteen to eighteen
year-olds in our school.  I'd only added in ten for the Third Years and
then, there were all the lads at the Catholic School.  Mike, Pat, Bernie
and the rest all beating their meat regularly, even if they had to go to
confession!  Plus the Elementary Schools, two of them in Kerslake, but the
boys left those when they were fourteen so there were all the lads like
Sean and Charley, and, of course, Georgie Abbot from our school, who had
left and were working.

     Then, there were other schools, Lachs and Flea wanked regularly and I
suppose their friends and school mates did.  I had no idea how many were in
their school nor in the schools that Sam Catt or Josh Chater went to.  I
just thought there must be thousands of boys all over England, and
Scotland, and Ireland, and Wales all happily adding to the outpourings of
spunk every week.  And what about America and Europe, and India, and
Africa, and Asia, and China and....  I gave up!  What would one call it, a
fountain of spunk, a river of spunk, a sea of spunk, an ocean of spunk?

     By the time I went to bed I had images of all these masses of boys all
industriously, pleasurably, ecstatically, giving vent to such vast amounts
of boy-seed every day.  Images which led to me adding my contribution with
two hearty drainages of my spunk-producing apparatus.  Apparatus, hunh,
very scientific!  How could I measure my own gobbets and streams of semen
that I had to mop up?  And, how could I estimate with any accuracy what the
whole world of boyhood was producing?  Oh, science!

                         *

     At break-time next day Cleggy and Nobbo were overjoyed when I showed
them my calculations.  Cleggy said the sermon on Sunday at church was on
Noah's flood and it seemed that boys around the world could float another
Ark.  However, they didn't enlighten me about the results of any
experimentation they had carried out but they did have great grins on their
faces.

     The rest of the week went pretty quietly.  When Mike came on Tuesday
for his maths lesson with Pa he announced he was now an uncle.  His nephew,
Joseph Michael Eamonn Quinn, had been born on Sunday and he was going up to
Catterick to see him next week during half-term.  He laughed when I said I
was getting two ready-made cousins next week and would be seeing them at
Uncle Edward's wedding to their mother.  I wanted to tell Mike a lot more
but Pa came home early and he was whisked away to do differential
equations.

     Pretty quietly until Thursday, when Van said he would see me after
games and then gave me an hour's grilling in German.  He said my grammar
and vocabulary were coming on but I should work on constructing more
complex sentences.  He gave me ten questions from old papers to do by the
first week in November!  Bah!!

     I had also forgotten completely about the piano exam I'd taken.  The
news was I had gained a distinction at Grade 6.  Tim had a distinction at
Grade 8 and his brother had passed his LRAM for cello playing!  All most
satisfactory.  Tim said he was going to work to get his diploma as soon as
he was sixteen.  The Head Beak announced all this from the platform after
Assembly. I blushed but felt good about the achievement.  But there was a
boy in the Second Year who got a distinction at Grade 5!

     I heard nothing more from Cleggy and Nobbo during the week so I
assumed the experiment was progressing and I would hear more on my return
to school after half-term.


               Monday October 16th - Sunday October 22nd 1944

     Kanga was on the doorstep at six-thirty and I hadn't arrived back from
Mrs Tring's piano lesson.  When I arrived home I found him and Ma deep in
conversation in the kitchen where she was ironing things to take to Suffolk
on Thursday.  I found out later that he was glad I had helped him with his
maths and he'd been one of the spectators at the rugger match.  I said to
him if he wanted more help he could come round the next afternoon.

     At St John's that evening Peter Fry wanted to chat as well.  We both
waited after the meeting finished as I wanted to ask Mr Halloran how Pat
was.  He said he'd had the operation and was coming home on Wednesday
morning and was fine now but Dr Maguire had told the school not to let him
play rugger or to box until after Christmas.  I said I would like to see
him when he got home on Wednesday and Mr Halloran said just call round.

     The wait was essential as Kanga, Matt and all the others had gone by
the time we came out.  We watched Mr Halloran lock up and saunter off down
the road and then made our way round to the bogs at the back of the Hall.
Pete had my cock out and was fisting it at a fair rate no sooner than we
were in the dark.  He watched as, in the moonlight, my spunk squirted in
its usual torrent across the shed-like building.

     "Cleggy and Nobbo's waiting to measure that," he breathed huskily in
my ear as he stopped wanking me and the pulsations in my shaft quietened
down.  "I've almost finished my lot."

     He had already undone his flies and his erect cock was ready, foreskin
withdrawn, as I held it and wanked him, much more slowly than he'd just
done me.  He was leaning back against me his head back on my shoulder.  I
knew he was near when his back muscles tightened against me.

     "Unnnh!" he went as a pearly stream jetted out and joined mine on the
wall opposite.  A fair match.  A wee bitty less perhaps, but a goodly
amount.

     As we tucked ourselves away and did ourselves up we looked at the twin
streams.

     I whispered.  "Not measuring tonight?"

     He shook his head.  "Been keeping off it every other day for a week
and I couldn't stand it any longer tonight!" he whispered back.  "I needed
that badly.  Same for you?"

     I said I'd been doing it my usual times, last one last night.

     "Nobbo says you always have plenty of juice."

     We collected our bikes and walked, pushing them, along the road, as he
told me of the progress of the measurements so far.  He had been issued
with a 50 cc glass beaker which he had to toss off into and then add 30 ccs
of water from a measuring cylinder to it and swirl it round and then pour
it all into the measuring cylinder in one go while it was still swirling.
He said first time was a bit tricky but he'd done it four times so far but
he wouldn't tell me how much each time as he said I might cheat!  Then he
said that Nobbo had asked him not to say how much to any us who were doing
it.  Apparently the experimenters wanted at least eight samples.  I asked
who else was participating.  He said Nobbo's cousin and, surprisingly, the
Foster twins.  Cleggy had used some Scout influence on the pair and Pete
said he'd found out from Cleggy they wanked each other off every night
anyway!

     Ho, Ho, I thought, when would I be issued with my spunk measuring
apparatus for my spunk producing apparatus?  Pete said, without any
prompting, that Cleggy and Nobbo planned to get me started once half-term
was over.  There, there.  All organized.

     I'd had a most satisfactory wank - or, had been most satisfactorily
wanked - that evening so I just lay in bed that night and contemplated
meeting up with the new cousins on Thursday and wondering how Matt would
get on with them.


     I'd forgotten about inviting Kanga to help him with his maths so was
rather startled when the back-door bell went just after two o'clock just as
I was trying one of Van's awful German questions.  Anyway, the smile on his
face cheered me up.  He was quite a different lad now from the sullen,
rude, swearing child of that Saturday encounter.  Of course, that day,
after things were explained to him he changed dramatically, but he seemed
even more at ease with himself now.  He followed me up to my room and we
did some of his maths problems.  He wasn't bad.  Just needed a few pointers
here and there.  I noticed every so often though he rubbed his fingers of
his left hand down the front of his shorts by the side of his cock.  I took
a peek or two while he had his head down writing and there was no doubt,
the lad had a raging hardon.  So, when he looked up to ask me a question I,
unconsciously (some hope), imitated his movement.  He looked up at me and
smiled.

     "I want to thank you.  Can I?"  He said, that sweet smile on his lips.

     "Ummh," I went, non-committally.

     He reached out, I was standing just behind him almost against the
chair on which he was sitting by my desk, undid my flies, unhooked my own
stiffening cock from my pants, and engulfed the whole foreskinned knob into
his mouth.  I was rather taken by surprise.  But not for long.

     "Wait!" I said.

     I lifted him up from the chair and we walked to the bed.  Both rapidly
undressed and within moments two erect rods were being sucked on by two
extremely horny youngsters.  His four inches of boy-meat disappeared fully
into my mouth.  I even sucked in his balls as well.  He now had my foreskin
back and was bobbing up and down sucking voraciously.  A stream of warm,
sweet boy-juice soon hit the back of my mouth.  I wasn't far behind.  He
tried to swallow and almost succeeded but my last spurt hit his cheek as he
let go of my jerking cock.

     We lay panting, one arm over each other's back.  Kanga spoke first.

     "Roo said I had to thank you and apologise properly.  He said this was
the best way."

     I wriggled on the bed and he turned over and we lay head to head.  I
licked that spot of come off his face.  He looked me straight in the eyes.
That smile again on his lips.

     "I thanked Roo the same way....," The smile turned into a grin.
".....several times.  He's a great brother!  Anyway, thanks, Jacko, I'm so
sorry about what I said."

     I leaned forward and kissed his forehead.  He turned his face up and
kissed me full on the lips.  A brotherly kiss.  I hugged him tight.

     We lay still for a while.  The smile/grin was there all the time.  In
the end he broke the silence again.

     "You taste just like Roo."

     I hugged him again.

     "If maths lessons always ended like that," I said, "Life would be
perfect!"

     We got off the bed slowly and dressed even more slowly.  He kept
casting sideways glances at me, especially when I rather ostentatiously
guided my still rather plumped-up cock into my underpants.  His own
boy-prick was erect again.

     I grinned at him.  "And I can tell you it's certainly not thirty times
a day, but I bet yours is at least three at the moment."

     His grin widened.  "Four mostly.  Roo says I should slow down a bit
but it's too nice, isn't it?  He's only doing it twice..."  A hand went to
his mouth - a brotherly confidence revealed.

     "It's OK, Kenny," I said, "I've known your brother for a long time and
I know all about him.  I think we all know about each other like that.  We
couldn't have shown you things if we hadn't been good friends.  He and
Tony, especially, have been friends of mine since Junior School."

     "Yes," he said, "He told me you were a good friend of his but I had to
be very careful about who my friends were when it came to things like we've
done."

     "Do you have any close friends at school?"  I asked.

     He shook his head.

     "What about James Crabbe?"  I asked, knowing he was a wank-addict.

     He nodded.  "I sit next to him but he's a bit quiet."

     "So are you, aren't you?"

     He nodded again.

     "I think you'd find he'd be a good friend if you tried.  Why not ask
him to help you with your maths or anything else.  Of course, you can
always ask me anyway."

     I wasn't going to divulge anything more but I could see that the seeds
of a developing relationship might be there.  I would ask Benno to prime
his brother as well.

     We cleared up one more maths worry and he bade me goodbye with a
really happy look on his face.  Gosh, that was the second youngster in a
matter of weeks who had sucked me so enthusiastically.  Sam Catt had been a
real expert and I don't think young Kanga was far behind.  I bet Roo that
night would also be the recipient of that pair of luscious lips round his
meaty pole, the lad comparing again the tastes of his brother and his
friend.  Once more, I wished I'd had a brother!  But, no!  I had plenty of
friends!


     On Wednesday I had to make sure I had everything ready packed for the
trip to Suffolk.  My best school blazer and trousers, socks, pants, clean
shoes, the list just went on.  Ma was going to be a Matron of Honour with
Auntie Faye so had paraded on Tuesday evening in the choice of three
dresses she might wear.  I think, in the end after comments from both Pa
and me, she packed all three.

     Wednesday afternoon I cycled round to Pat Halloran's.  He lived in the
end house of a terraced row.  I went round the back through the side gate
and parked my bike.  He shuffled fairly slowly to the back door when I
knocked and a great smile lit up his face when he saw me.

     "Och, sweet Mother of God, I'm glad to see you, Jacko.  There's no one
at home and I'm as weak as a kitten.  You wouldn't mind making me a cup of
tea, would you?"

     He hobbled into the kitchen and sat heavily for such a slim lad on a
chair by the table.

     I filled a kettle and lit the gas on the hob.  He pointed out the
teapot and told me where the tea was in the pantry.  He sounded tired.

     "And what did Mr Symes do?" I asked, putting two spoons of tea in the
pot, plus one for the pot, having warmed it first.

     He snorted.  "That old biddy shaved me first.  Not that nice Sister
Clarke.  She just came in, told me to get undressed and get on the bed.
She then said she'd told me to undress and that meant everything so I had
to take my pants off as well.  Blessed God, she washed me down there and
then shaved all me hair away.  Held onto me lad all the time but it was a
good job I was so scared 'cause nothing happened.  Then Doctor Maguire came
and looked at it and pressed on my hernia lump and that hurt," He shook his
head, "Holy Mother of God, I'm telling you, that hurt!"  His Irish accent
was even more pronounced today and I grinned 'to meself, bejasus' as I
poured the boiling water into the pot and he waited to continue until I'd
finished.  "He said he'd give me the stuff to put me to sleep and I had to
swallow two pills first.  A bit later that Mr Symes came in and had a look
as well.  He's a good man. Told me what he was going to do and I'd be right
as rain after.  Blessed God, though, it's sore.  Want to see?"

     I nodded. He was wearing a dressing-gown and under it had an old
rugger shirt and his long boxing shorts.  I went round to his side and he
stood up leaning on the table.  The dressing-gown flapped open and he
gingerly lowered his shorts. A large plaster covered the left side of his
groin and his cock dangled limply down.  He was bald.  All his black hair
had gone and this made his cock seem quite large as it hung there.  I
stared, saying nothing, then he hitched up his shorts and sat down.

     "He said I could have the plaster off next Monday and have the
stitches out if all was OK and I'm to have that week off school."  He
smiled.  "Best thing about it, eh?"  He looked at me roguishly.  "And I
haven't wanted too, either, you wee scallywag, telling that boy what I'd
just done!"

     I laughed.  "I didn't tell him, he guessed!  He's a boy, too!"

     Pat laughed.  "Yeah, I bet he is!"

     I poured cups of tea and we spent the rest of the time discussing Mike
and his new nephew, and Mike and what a good lad he was, and Mike and what
a lad he had.
  I told him I was off to Suffolk in the morning and he wished me well.  He
wanted to know about my new cousins so I told him a bit.  He was intrigued
about the Doodle-bugs and said that something to do with them had been
delivered to the labs last week, all hush-hush, so his father said.

     I was glad I hadn't had an operation as I had to have two wanks that
night in bed as I was rather excited at the prospect of meeting Lachs and
Flea again.


     Thursday morning, Ma, Matt and me, all assembled on Kerslake Station
ready to catch the ten o'clock train to London.  Pa was going to a meeting
in Cambridge on Friday so would come to Suffolk Saturday morning ready for
the wedding at two o'clock.
  He was going to be Best Man for his brother. The train was crowded so we
didn't have much chance to talk and it was a relief to get out at the
London terminus ready for the underground ride to Liverpool Street Station.
Ma had brought a pack of sandwiches so when we arrived at the station well
in time for the two o'clock train we sat and scoffed them.  I suddenly
spotted two figures in the distance just going onto the platform.

     "There's Lachs and Andrew," I said, pointing.

     They seemed at too great a distance to hail by shouting.  Ma, however,
showed her ingenuity.  Two fingers went to her mouth and the piercing
whistle we'd heard at the party occurred again.  Startled heads turned from
fellow passengers, but seeing two teenage boys sitting there, they assumed
it must have been one of them.  It had the desired effect.  Two heads much
further along the concourse swivelled.  I stood and waved.  They came along
at a jog-trot, each with a suitcase and a haversack.  They stood
side-by-side, at attention, in front of where Ma and Matt were sitting,
faces wreathed in smiles.

     "Hello Auntie Jean, I'm Lachlan," he said...

     ".......And I'm Andrew."  He dropped his suitcase and leaned over Ma
and gave her a kiss on the cheek.  Without waiting for an answer he turned
to his brother.  "Greet Auntie Jean properly, don't be so stuffy just
because you think you're so grown-up!"

     I don't know how Ma stopped herself laughing as a blushing Lachlan
bent over her and planted a chaste kiss on her other cheek.  She put both
hands out and grasped theirs tightly.

     "Welcome to the family," she said, "You've already welcomed Jacko to
yours."

     After that it was all chat.  Matt was introduced and he and Lachlan
were soon jabbering together.  Andrew commandeered Ma and they were
nattering on about all sorts of things while I stood, acknowledged but
ignored, like the proverbial spare prick at the wedding - a phrase Mike had
used when describing certain guests at his sister's do.  I think the only
thing that stopped the pair of them chattering was when they finished up
the two rounds of sandwiches left.  I didn't begrudge them as they said
they'd had an early breakfast at school and were starving.

     At long last I suggested we should go and get on the platform because
we had a train to catch.  The chat didn't let up but at least young Andrew
did walk beside me with his usual mischievous grin on his face.  Praise Be!
We found an empty compartment, six seats, and nobody else attempted to
enter.  The porter we'd found hoisted all our luggage aboard and we were
ready for the off.

     I noted as we steamed out of the station along the tracks taking us
through the outskirts of London that there seemed to be even more damage
than just a few weeks ago.  There was no defence against these new
rocket-bombs, V2 rockets they'd been named, and according to the newspaper
they appeared without any warning. I was glad when the fields of the
countryside started to appear again.

     Ma had settled herself in the far corner with a book, by Della Arnold,
I noticed.  Odd name, I'd only heard of one Della before.  We four boys sat
at the window end of the carriage, Andrew next to me and Matt next to
Lachs.  I think we were all a bit too excited to talk much to begin with.
At one point I put my left hand down between Andrew and me and he gripped
it tightly with his right hand.  Then he started to rub his thumb up and
down my thumb.  Oh God!  The usual!  Horny Jacko's standard response
occurred.  A massive hardon in the awkwardness of my school trousers.  I
tried to get my hand away but Andrew held on.  He knew exactly what he was
doing and the effect it was having.  I looked down at him, his head tilted
to look me straight in the eyes, one eye closed lazily in a knowing wink,
the impish grin appeared.  "Later!" I muttered.  The eye closed slowly
again and, luckily, he let go of my hand.

     Gradually over the next few miles my hardon subsided.  Matt and Lachs
were now in deep conversation about naval battles to have noticed anything.
Flea, however, was not finished.  He started to fidget and this meant he
was constantly rubbing his trousered leg against my trousered leg.  I
reached down and gripped his hand again.  I gave it three good squeezes
indicating, I hoped, that he should desist.  He kept still for a while.  I
let go of his hand.  I looked down at him again, his mouth curled up in
that smile and the eye slowly winked again.  I thought, once I get you in
bed I'll......  Bed?  We hadn't heard what arrangements were being made.  I
supposed I would share with Matt anyway.  If I had to and no Flea I would
get him in a secluded spot somewhere and squeeze his little knackers
until...!  I looked down at him again.  The smile was still there and as
soon as he caught I was looking at him he slowly winked again.  No!  No!
No!  I couldn't hurt my little Flea's lovely young balls.  I wanted to hold
them as he shot his pearly boy-juice.  Oh God!  The inevitable again.  An
even more rigid hardon!  And so the journey progressed.  At long last the
rigidness abated, luckily, just before we steamed into Ipswich station.

     Aunt Della was there on the platform.  She had mustered two taxis to
cart us to Pin Mill House and she and Ma went off in one with the luggage
while we four boys huddled together in the other.  Just before we got into
the cab Andrew said, very quietly, "I'm glad Lachs is getting on so well
with Matt.  Edward said he was interesting because he knows so much about
Naval History and Lachs is mad keen on that sort of thing, too."

     Ummh.  I'd noticed Uncle Edward talking to Matt a couple of times
while we were at Chester.  Uncle Edward was a good judge of character, I
thought.  I then thought I didn't know everything about Matt.  I knew he
wanted to go into the Navy but he never went into detail about his
interests.

     Anyway, from the continuation of the conversation in the cab I could
see that Lachs and Matt had hit it off immediately.  They were too far gone
in discussion to notice that, under the cover of our overcoats, Andrew and
I sat with entwined fingers for the rest of that journey.

     Ma and Aunt Della had already gone into the house when we arrived.
The two taxi drivers unloaded the bags and took them indoors under Nanny
Saunders' instruction.  She came out again and was greeted most
enthusiastically by the two boys.  They introduced Matt and I was favoured
with a big hug.  She then said high tea would be at six but there were
sandwiches in the kitchen.  The race was on.  Flea and I won as Matt had to
be shown the way by his new friend Lachlan.  Young Georgie's two sisters
were there preparing vegetables and one pointed to the two laden plates on
the table.  Andrew asked how Georgie was and they laughed and said "As
usual!"  The sandwiches disappeared in record time in comparative silence
and then Nanny Saunders came back in and asked if the four of us minded
sharing a room as the house was going to be full.

     The big room with its double-bed and smaller single bed was just as I
remembered it.  I dumped my suitcase and haversack on the floor and
announced I wanted a pee.  I noticed Matt fidgeting - too polite to utter
the word 'pee' I suppose - and he followed me into the adjoining bathroom.
I let him have a piss first as he was obviously bursting.  After I finished
he was just giving his face a catlick, a splash of water and a rub with a
towel.  He turned to me as I joined him at the sink, catlick also in mind.

     "I like Lachlan," he said, "He's very knowledgeable about Naval
History."

     I said I hadn't realised it was his great interest too.  He smiled and
said he had read quite a few books and his dad always told him stories
about things which had happened to the Navy in the past.

     As we emerged from the bathroom looking a little more presentable the
two brothers were engaged in one of their verbal battles.

     "Potty says that as I'm the younger brother I take precedence in the
procession!"

     "But I'm senior to you in rank," Lachlan was saying, but stopped as we
came into the centre of the room between them.

     "What is it now?" I asked, "Having a row over who'll be chief
bridesmaid, eh?"

     Matt looked at me in astonishment.  He didn't know how their legs had
been pulled before.  The two lads rushed at me and toppled me onto the
double-bed and started to tickle me.  I succumbed and giggled
uncontrollably immediately - asbestos gelos - as the late Reverend Mr
Campion would say when he reprimanded us whenever we had a fit of the
giggles in class.

     "No we are not!" panted Lachlan, administering a very deft tattoo to
my left ribs."We are escorts to the bride according to Edward!"

     "In pretty dresses?" I grinned back as Andrew's grinning face loomed
over me.

     "Shut up about that," he said.  "Wait and see!"

     "Pax," I said, having suffered enough.  They stopped and I sat up.
Matt was still standing there watching.

     "That would happen to you if you had two brothers," I said.  "They're
my new cousins and they treat me as if I was their third brother!"

     Matt groaned.  "I suppose I should be glad I've just got a sister.
She's bad enough but having two like that would be even more awful!"

     Good old Matt.  He was coming out of his shell!  The effect was as
expected.  It was his turn to be over the bed and squawking as the pair
found his soft and tender spots and reduced him to a quivering jelly.  I
went over to him and slightly assisted by stroking just under his chin.  I
knew what that did to Matt.  The bulge in his trousers was soon evident.

     "Help, help! " he was murmuring and panting at the same time as the
pair tickled his chest and held his arms.

     They tired of their game and let him go.

     "You two know what you'll get if you're cheeky!" announced Flea.
"Potty says ninety-five per cent of boys are ticklish and the other five
per cent are so thick they wouldn't know if they were still having their
vests put on by their nanny, just like your pal Bastable, eh Lachs?"

     "You leave Bastable out of it," retorted Lachs, "He's in my squad and
he's a very good forward in our House XV."

     Andrew grinned.  "Potty says if Wilkinson didn't go around with him
and get his dick out when he wanted to pee...."

     It was Andrew's turn to be upended.  His elder brother had him face
down and wriggling as he held him by the neck, dodging his kicking legs and
ticking his ribs with the other hand.  "You and that poisonous Potty!  The
pair of you need to be dealt with.  Anyway, Wilkie's sister is married to
Bastable's elder brother, Giles."

     A few muffled imprecations came from Flea until he managed to get his
head round under Lachlan's grip. "Miles Bastable is thick... and I bet he's
hung like a bull.  I never get a look 'cause he always gets in and out of
the showers quickly," he managed to say clearly, "Dumpy Durrant's in the
next room to theirs and he says he hears them every night beating off and
they're noisy and ever so quick.  Potty says he bets he's the first
four-minute Miles!"

     "Will.. you.. shut.. up.. a-bout.. Pot-ty!" said Lachlan emphatically,
drumming in each syllable with a hefty whack to Flea's backside.  He let go
and Flea turned and sat up.

     "Thanks brother, that was nice."  He moved quickly off the bed and
scooted to the other side.  "Potty says Sibs should give you a half dozen
whacks every morning as it would get some blood to your brain!  I said he
would be too tired recovering...."  He stood silently.  Lachlan made no
attempt to pursue him.

     Lachlan stood and shook his head.  "And Miles Bastable isn't hung like
a bull, he's a good lad," he said resignedly.

     "Nah, nah, nah, nah!" went his brother, "Gotcha!  You've been having a
look and more, I bet.  You'll make old Sibs jealous and what would
Cartwright do without his daily visit."

     Lachlan shook his head again while Matt and I looked on laughing
silently - the first four-minute Miles was a good one!

     "Andrew!" I said, "Behave yourself, I'm certain your guests aren't
interested in all your tittle-tattle!"

     "Oh, but I am," piped up Matt.  "Who is Potty and this Miles and all
the others?"

     That settled that.  It was decided we'd go and inspect the river and
the boat and Matt and I would be filled in with any further details.  Miles
Bastable and Dumpy Durrant were new to me as well!


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