Date: Wed, 12 Sep 2012 09:39:51 +0100
From: tom <amias09@fastmail.fm>
Subject: Brief encounters  Chap 103

Brief Encounters - the ever continuing saga... eekkk!

First the mandatory warnings and disclaimers - basically don't read this if
the naughty sexual exploits of young teenage schoolboys do not appeal. The
characters depicted are fictional and not intentionally based upon any one
person... although, if you do suddenly find yourself in the middle of the
story just think how lucky you are!

This is ostensibly a work of fiction, albeit with a few memories from my
own school days plus some of the many invariably unspoken fantasies which I
and my "best friends" would only ever rarely admit or allude to when we
were at that very special, trusting and certainly innocent age.

Today, it's very hard to imagine what it was like without the internet to
immediately help conjure up fantasies based on images, webcams, stories or
chat. Our sex lives were entirely dependant upon a very fervent imagination
and thus being able to create our own fantasies usually based on friends
and what we saw happening beneath the desk or in the changing rooms! I make
no excuses for the fact that underwear features prominently in this story,
because quite frankly it did, it was a very visible and tangible connection
between us and our ever developing fascination with sex! It's important to
remember that other than the very rare sexual extrovert, we never dared
mention the subject because we were just too embarrassed and nobody
understood what was happening to us anyway!

You might call it a story about the age of discovery - usually in bed - or
if you shared a bedroom with a brother, then discovery would be in the
bathroom!

Do note, at the time of writing the story itself is not finished and for
better or worse, it has now turned into a work of some length but I will
regularly post updates and there are more than enough pages written to keep
it going! Nifty require a text file so if the formatting or punctuation go
slightly up the creek you now know why! And, also during the writing for
various reason I have had to change character names, so I hope for
continuity they are now correct!

Finally, I hope you enjoy it and please, please do let me have any comments
or suggestions and for some of you I it might even jog a memory or two,
three if you are lucky... I would be intrigued to learn!

Tom
email: amias09@fastmail.fm

*******************************************************************************

>>>>>>>>>>> Now your attention please faithful readers as it's time to put
in word for our sponsor. Or, in plain English I wouldn't be getting my epic
published and you wouldn't be reading it if it were not for the Nifty
Archive, so if you enjoy what you read then please, please consider making
a donation to Nifty.

It's very easy and painless, you just follow the donations link on the main
page - I'm sure even our oversexed and luckess hero Art from the story
would do it if he could - come to that, he'd do it anywhere!

####################################################################


Chapter 103 -- I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow...


"Ready as I'll ever be," Ian looked at the rope, then up at Art, "I think
we'd better tell Nige as well."

"Oh fuck, so this is really it then." Art laughed and waved to Nigel to
give him the thumbs up and indicate it was at long last time to put the
plan into action.

"You'd better cross yer fingers," said Ian grinning, "and yer fuckin'
legs!"

"Ready then?" called out Art to Nigel having realising it was pointless
trying to talk quietly as the voices from the shed were just getting louder
and louder.

"Yeah." Nigel nodded and turned to check that Richard was holding onto the
rope.

Knowing that Nigel couldn't really hear, Art held his hand in the air with
the five fingers extended and began to close them one by one as he counted
out loud.

"Five.."

"Four.."

"Three..."

"Two..."

"Fuckin' one! Now fuckin' pull!"

The ropes tightened.

The four boys strained, cursed and cursed. Nothing seemed to be happening
other than the fact they were all going red in the face with effort.

"Fuckin' stop it, lets have rest." yelled Art releasing his grip and
throwing his hands up in the air as a signal to the others.

"Fuckin' hell!" gasped Ian angrily, "wot's fuckin' wrong, it ought to
fuckin' work!"

"Ian, now fuckin' calm down, it don't matter really do it," Art was smiling
despite the non-event, "let's face it, it was bit fuckin' hopeful anyway
wunnit?"

"But all me fuckin' hard work," he looked angrily at the shed, "you
bastard! It's gotta fuckin' work!"

"Well we can always just bang on the door, that'll fuckin' surprise 'em
anyway wunnit!"

"Yeah, but.." Ian sounded very disappointed.

"Oi Art! Come on and fuckin' try again, fuckin' pull on it like fuckin'
hell!" shouted Nigel from the other corner although he was barely heard
above the clamour of voices from the shed.

"Together then." called out Art picking up the rope. Checking they were
ready he waved a hand in the air again and extended his fingers.

"Five.."

"Four.."

"Three..."

"Two..."

"Fuckin' one! Come on, fuckin' pull!"

The ropes tightened yet again.

"Fuck you! Come on you bastard!" yelled Ian angrily at the shed, red in the
face and straining every muscle in his body.

The shed didn't bother to reply.

With considerable effort they managed to hold the tension on the ropes for
almost a minute. Just when they were about to give up and relax their
efforts there was a loud crack, sounding like a gunshot. Abruptly the ropes
went slack leaving them all off balance and tumbling over each
other. Totally token aback with surprise they picked themselves up and
looked expectantly at the shed only to see standing quite unchanged as
before.

"You cunt!" shouted Ian at the defenceless shed.

"Wot the fuck!" exclaimed Art wondering what on earth had happened. "I
nearly broke me fuckin' leg then!"

"I'll break that fuckin' shed! Well I'm fucked if I knows wot's wrong with
the fuckin' thing!" snarled Ian staring at the shed. "Why didn't it fuckin'
work? I'm right fuckin' pissed off with it...you fuckin' bastard!"

"You mustn't talk to it like that, it won't fuckin' like it!" Art collapsed
in laughter. It was all becoming a little surreal.

"Fuck the shed, some cunt's got a bloody gun!" cried Nigel in panic turning
to scour the allotments behind them.

"Fuck, d'you really think somebody's shooting at us?" Richard nervously
farted and turned to look slowly around the deserted allotments now totally
convinced that Nigel was, as usual right. "A gun! Oh my god... oh shit!"

"No, you haven't have you?" asked Nigel having just heard Richard's rather
vocal sphincter and adding without really thinking, "we ain't got no bog
paper here!"

"No.. no, I just farted!" Richard looked suitably embarrassed and very,
very tentatively began to feel inside the seat of his underpants just in
case.

Art meanwhile had thrown his arms around Ian's neck and was kissing him on
both cheeks!

By the time Richard confirmed his underpants were not infused with
disgusting substances and had turned back to look at the shed he detected a
strange draught, it certainly wasn't beer! There was a distinct cloud of
dust blowing right up into his face from the ground.

"Wot the fuck.." rapidly blinking he had to wipe the dust from his eyes.

"You've done it, you've fuckin' done it!" yelled Art very excitedly and
grabbed at Ian to slobber over him yet again. "You luvly little fucker
you!"

On hearing Art's excited shouts Nigel gave up looking for mysterious, if
not wayward marksmen and turned to see what the fuss was about. Grinning
from ear to ear he in turn grabbed Richard's hand, which incidentally had
just been inside his trousers checking the seal of his anal passage. Nigel
pointed jubilantly towards the shed.

Beaming proudly and glancing across to his handiwork, Ian appeared rather
bemused at Art's somewhat elated reaction, although his growing erection
did confirm he rather liked being hugged and showered with Art's slobbery
boy kisses!

To be fair, Ian had achieved near perfection. Almost as though it were
hinged at the bottom, the side wall of the shed was in the process of
gracefully floating down to earth. Thanks to Ian's considerable carpentry
skills the two ropes had pulled it free from the roof allowing it to
practically fold down as though hinged to leave the rest of the building
standing like a three sided box.

Watching from their safe vantage point the four boys saw the wooden front
wall land in a cloud of dust as gently as though it were attached to a
parachute. Being large in surface area and short on weight it settled to
the ground rather like a giant sheet of paper, throwing up an enormous
mushroom cloud of dust and almost obscuring the building itself.

As the dust slowly cleared the intimate detail of what the younger boys had
been up too was now revealed in all it's sticky glory. In the foreground,
centre stage was Martin with soggy shorts and briefs around his knees. A
huge string of cum dangled precariously from the end of his foreskin, there
being little doubt that he was posed as though he was about to try and
roger a very accommodating Simon! The other boys were frozen almost in
tableau form, depicting varying degrees of self or communal abuse. All
looked absolutely white with shock at what had happened and how they had
been so deftly ensnared.

Within moments Art and Nigel were literally rolling around on the grass
consumed by laughter, their laughter was of course endemic as both Ian and
Richard also succumbed. Reduced to a state of utter hysteria they were
pointing wildly at the postures and revealing antics of the boys who had
been caught most emphatically with their pants down!

To Art it seemed a rather fitting and surreal finale when, aided by a
gentle breeze the collection of stolen underpants which been so carefully
hidden in the corners of the roof started to slowly drift downwards. Like
enormous pieces of grubby, stained confetti the motley assortment began to
rain down on top of the startled inhabitants.

It was an exceptionally disgusting pair of Wolsey briefs which landed
squarely on top of Simon's head which finally broke the spell. Transformed
from statuette to raving adolescent in less than a second he snatched the
briefs from his head, looked at Art then back to the briefs before hurling
them to the ground with all his strength.

"You fuckin' cunt... you're a cunt.. a fuckin' cunt.. you fuckin' cunt.."
he screamed whilst directing a quivering finger as though it were some
magical exterminator towards Art.

"Oh!" was all Art could reply before dissolving helplessly into laughter
yet again.

To be fair Art and hadn't really expected Simon to react so angrily, but
since he had the temptation to send him further into orbit was
irresistible. Unfortunately for Simon standing there in a junior school
vest that was a little small and wearing little else, it meant that he
didn't really resemble anyone in a strong enough position to call anyone
anything, let alone with such a forceful, if limited choice of vocabulary.

"You cunt... you're... you're... all fuckin' cunts!" red with rage he
screamed at the top of his voice whilst wildly pointing at the hysterical
Nigel, Ian and Richard.

Ian was crying so much with laughter he was unable to speak.

"He's not happy!" whispered Nigel, stating the obvious in between guffaws
of laughter. "Cor, he looks cute in that little vest don't he!"

"I'm gonna fuckin' thump you... you... cunt.. you.. fuckin'.. you.. fuckin'
cunt!" he continued to scream and point the quivering exterminator digit in
Art's direction.

It seemed fair to Art to assume that Simon was angry. In fact more than
angry and even quite worked up. Actually, he was very worked up. Worse, he
had progressed from red with rage to incandescent white rage with extra
added rage.

"If I'm a cunt, then come on and fuck me!" replied Art with tears of
laughter running down his face in the true spirit of brotherly love. "You
ain't got the fuckin' balls!"

"He fuckin' has," said Ian pointing, "look he's got little ones, you can
see 'em under his vest!"

That did it, Richard and Nigel were now unable to speak and having
difficulty breathing.

"Ain't got no hair though!" added Ian before he too collapsed. "He's got
bald balls!"

That brought what sounded like a snigger from somewhere deep in the back of
the shed. Maybe there was life after all.

"You cunt!" screamed Simon, most definitely red in the face and positively
trembling with anger. "You're all cunts!"

"Probably!" said a voice at the back of the shed.

As brothers, Art was usually the passive one with Simon having always been
the first to lose his temper. Today he had excelled himself pushing both
anger and vocabulary to the limit, lowering his quivering exterminator
digit and clenching his fists there was no doubt Art was really going to
know he meant business this time.

"Hey you little wanker, don't you know any other fuckin' words?" taunted
Art. "It was you lot that fuckin' started all this in the first place any
fuckin' way!"

"Wot! Started wot? Wot d'you mean?" yelled Simon.

"Well you lot pinched all our pants from the fuckin' changing room didn't
you?"

"Wot!" Simon had no rebuttal, it was the truth and they all knew it. He
paused, trapped. "Oh fuck you!"

"I did offer!" Art started to laugh again.

Whilst Simon fumed and Rome slowly burned, there were definite signs and
sounds of movement now coming from the back of the shed. The boys who were
dressed in little but a vest and each others underpants were finding the
whole situation incredibly arousing, the testosterone in the air could
almost be cut with a knife. Tom in particular was revelling in the feeling
of being caught and humiliated, something he might enjoy in later life!
Standing behind Alex he had his hand pushed down into the rear of Alex's
underpants and was feeling between his legs. Alex certainly wasn't
objecting.

"Well it's fuckin' payback time innit?" proclaimed Art. "You lot fucked us
right up in school that day. Every poor bugger in the class had to go home
with no pants!"

"Bollocks!"

"Nah, wasn't bollocks. It was our pants and they was all hidden under yer
bed... wasn't they?"

Simon didn't answer.

"Well, wasn't they?" Art paused theatrically to deliver the coup de grace,
"And you've been wearing and wanking in 'em, we all knows that now!"

The difference between Simon being red with rage and red with embarrassment
was hard to tell. To his mind the very thought that everybody now knew of
what he had been doing was the final straw, although of course he had
forgotten that virtually everybody there knew anyway! Art had certainly lit
the fuse and it was a very short one!

"You cunt.. look... look...wot... wot... oh fuck you! You fuckin' told 'em
all now!" the centre of attention, he looked wildly around obviously
seething with anger.

"Temper, temper!" said Art. "Or should I say wanky panties!"

Sounds of giggling came from the shed. Standing behind Simon, even Martin
who had so far remained absolutely motionless in the vain hope of not being
included in the brotherly command performance managed a smile.

"I'm gonna fuck you up now!" yelled Simon shaking a fist violently in the
air.

"Oh, you is gonna fuck me now then? I'll bend over then, shall I?" replied
Art knowing that certainly wouldn't help Simon's rather intemperate
disposition.

"Yeah! I fuckin' am! You cunt!"

Art's acceptance obviously didn't help his brothers disposition. Red in the
face, steaming at the ears, virtually foaming at the mouth, waving his
fists with his flaccid cock jiggling about beneath the vest for all to see,
Simon was indeed a force to be reckoned with. It really was time to put
some firm action behind all his brave words and annihilate Art as he had
threatened.

As most of the boys had realised, it was Simon himself who had escalated
the situation out of all proportion and it turned to farce at his own
expense. Being Art's brother and the only tangible link to the older boys
he had needlessly felt it incumbent upon himself to remonstrate on behalf
of his young friends. Sadly he didn't quite appreciate there was fine line
between remonstration was going over the top.

Watching Simon's antics Art, Nigel, Richard and Ian had been laughing so
much they were having difficulty in getting breath as indeed where some of
those in the shed, who having gradually come back to life now found the
whole thing very entertaining.

With a hand around his waist Tom pulled Alex back towards himself as he
forced his tenting briefs into Alex's crack. The feel of hot breath on his
neck excited Alex enormously, particularly as his buttocks were being
kneaded whilst his underpants were very slowly pulled down and he felt the
wet front of Tom's briefs being pushed hard against him.

Simon meanwhile had just formulated a plan for retribution. Incredibly
simple, it was to surprise Art by jumping on him from the raised floor of
the shed and then pulverise him into submission. Submission for what
exactly, he hadn't quite worked out other than Art needed to be shown that
he wasn't always boss!

However, like the best laid plans of mice and men it was destined to abject
failure.  Simon had forgotten that he was in front of Martin and being in
front of Martin meant they were still wearing the remains of the
briefs. For those watching who thought the strength of the waistband of
Y-fronts had already been tested to the limit were about to be thoroughly
educated into the high quality of Lyle & Scott underpants.

Action.

Without any warning Simon suddenly leapt forward with such initial velocity
that he managed to get nearly two feet in front of the surprised anchorman
Martin, before the superior capabilities of the Lyle & Scott elastic
waistband restricted further lateral movement.

"Fuckin' hell!"

Shrieking in horror his flight was brought to an abrupt halt in
mid-air. Like Icarus, he too plunged downwards at a vast rate of knots to
prostrate himself on the rough ground. In any event, it would be debatable
whether or not Icarus would have used such an expletive anyway. Probably
though, something classically similar.

Whatever, it was not to be Simon's finest hour.

Having gathered sufficient momentum only to be stopped dead in mid-flight
by the elastic restraint he found it cut rather painfully into his waist,
that though was only a minor problem. Quite naturally by the laws of
physics, in particular that of the push-me--pull-you doctrine there could
have been no other outcome than to drag the very unwilling and surprised
Martin behind him immediately after take off. Thus, together they crashed
to the ground in a cloud of dust and it was only at that point did the
elastic waistband finally snap, the frayed end whipping round to catch
Martin across his buttocks.

Everybody, including those in the shed started to laugh.

Simon lay in the dirt apparently winded. Martin who had fallen on top of
him was in the unfortunate position of having his cum soaked shorts and
briefs still tangled around his knees. Not the most flattering position
considering he was surrounded by younger boys, but to them an education in
itself with his inviting crack and minimally hairy orifice exposed to all
to see. His embarrassment made worse when he finally lost his balance and
rolled off of Simon and into the dirt, which courtesy of his recent
ejaculation rapidly adhered to the semen coating his genitalia and pubes.

Jimmy, having already cum and still massaging his juices around his shaft
his was the first to lean over and mentally photograph Martin's balls,
dangling temptingly between his legs. Brian, nudged by Jimmy soon followed
suit and was in turn pushed out of the way by his younger brother Robbie
who appearing to be trying for his fourth dry climax of the afternoon
helped by a very excitable Barry.

Tom was straining to see from behind Alex, although neither wished to move
from their position in the rear corner of the shed. Tom who had been
humping Alex's bare buttocks still wearing his underpants had now pulled
them down and much to Alex's delight, having removed his finger forced his
slender four inches home.

"Fuck.." was all Martin could offer. Slowly he raised his head. Appearing
totally dazed he glanced around at the grinning, giggling faces looking
down at him.

"Fuck! Tom," echoed Alex quietly. "we ain't done this for ages!"

"Mart, how's Simon, have a look?" called out Art who having seen there
didn't appear to be any movement had actually stopped laughing and sat
up. Internecine strife and brother baiting were put aside, he was genuinely
concerned.

"Wot?"

"Mart, is he alright?" he called out again. "Have a fuckin' look."

"Alex, Alex.. I'm cumming!" whispered Tom excitedly. "Nobody ain't seen us
doing it yet, they're all watching Simon. Don't say nothing."

Alex didn't reply. He merely smiled to himself and enjoyed the sensation of
Tom banging his hairless ballsac right up against his bumhole and the
feeling of a little something hot being squirted up inside him.

In all the noise Martin wasn't really responding to the questions, Art
finally got up and walked the few paces over to Simon, keeling by his head
he gently shook him by the shoulder.

"Come on you little tosser, the fuckin' games over," he said quietly in
Simon's ear, "lets kiss and make up like we always does."

Tom was wiping the end of his shrinking organ on the back of Alex's vest.

"D'you think," whispered Alex turning as he pulled his underpants back up,
"d'you think when were older and we do this, it's gonna hurt?"

"Wot d'you mean?" Tom looked at the stains he had left on Alex's vest, they
weren't just cum. "Wot.. oh, I see.. wot you mean `cause our willies be
bigger then?"

"Yeah, `cause now they ain't much more than finger and that don't hurt do
it? We does it to ourselves all the time." Alex looked round to see if
anybody was listening, but all eyes were on Simon, "You seen Mart's willy,
now that up yer bum would really hurt wunnit?"

"I `spose it would."

"It's twice as thick as ours innit? It would hurt wunnit?" said Alex. "Be
honest, ours ain't much bigger than a finger or two and we uses them all
the time!"

At that precise moment concentration and comparative logic on the ratio of
finger to penis size were pretty low in Tom's priorities. Pulling Alex to
him he very quickly kissed him on the lips.

Alex blushed.

"You've pulled yer pants up," said Tom as if nothing had happened, "won't
yer bum leak a bit then?"

Alex grinned and shrugged his shoulders, looked round again and leant back
towards Tom, "I dunno, you don't make much stuff do we? Anyhow it feels all
nice! Will you... will you, kiss me again!"

Now it was Tom's turn to blush, he obliged knowing his cock was still as
hard as before.

"He ain't fuckin' playing, somethings happened!" suddenly shouted Art in
panic having slowly rolled Simon over and seen some blood from a small cut
on his forehead.

"Wot? Oh fuckin' shit that's all we need!" Nigel moved over and knelt down
by Art who had Simon's head resting on his leg. "But that little cut ain't
bad is it?"

Seconds later all the boys had gathered round in varying states of undress
and were looking very concerned. However, for Richard who been erect for
most of the afternoon and had never seen so many twelve year old cocks at
close range before was torn between Simon's welfare and his own
lecherousness. With the boys well with easy groping distance he was
struggling to straighten his erection inside his briefs without being
noticed. With a certain inevitability precum production had already started
again and he knew unless he could relieve the pressure there was going to
be an almighty infusion in his trousers which this time his mother wouldn't
fail to recognise!

"Nige, wot the fuck we gonna do?" Art was looking genuinely scared and as
ever looked up to Nigel for guidance. "He ain't dying is he?"

"Course not, now fuckin' calm down." said Ian putting his hand on Art's
shoulder. "Nige, wass reckon then?"

"I think," he took a breath and looked up at the boys, desperately trying
to think what to say. "I think, first thing is all you lot gotta move back
a bit and get dressed."

"Yer right. Come on, let's find our clothes" said Brian. "Especially if we
gotta get an ambulance and that!"

"He's bleeding." observed David innocently just to compound Art's worries.

"Better pick up all them pants as well, I `spose." said Jimmy looking
around, "well let's fuckin' get going then."

"Ambulance? Wot fuckin' ambulance?" Art looked as though he was about
cry. "Oh fuck!"

"Art, we might fuckin' have to get an ambulance," said Nigel. " `cause we
don't know wot's up with him do we?"

"And we gotta get him a bit dressed," Ian was looking closely at Simon,
"look his cocks got dust and all that stuck to it! And.. oh bloody hell, we
can't let him seen in just that vest can us? Joe you find his clothes for
us."

"Art, you're his brother so you're gonna have to tidy him up and dress
him." added Nigel firmly.

"Yeah, that's right. Now Look," said Ian, "somebody here who's got a bike
must cycle off and tell yer parents, they'll know wot to do. They always
does don't 'em, parents?"

"Here, I think these is his." said Joe handing a bundle of the wrong
clothes to Art.

"Yeah alright, I'll uumm... sort him out a bit." Art looked up. "But wot we
gonna tell mum, we can't say wot we was doing yer and can we?"

"And look at the state of the fuckin' shed!" added Richard trying to be
helpful, but in all honesty just wishing he was in the back of it wanking
all over Joe who was currently standing almost beside him, still in his
vest with his half erect cock only inches from his hand!

"Right, shut up and fuckin' listen!" called out Ian over the growing babble
of voices. "We gotta be as quick as we can to tidy up and get Simon's mum,
right?"

He looked about at the flurry of activity and the tempting sight of
numerous boys in the process of getting dressed, that was if getting
dressed equated to putting on some thin white football shorts over their
invariably cummy underpants.

"Yeah." came the collective reply.

"Right. So you lot tidy up the clothes and that, then we'll push the side
of the fuckin' shed back up." Ian looked around for Tom. "Tom you and Alex,
you both got bikes so you're gonna to Simon's place and tell `em he's had a
bit of an accident."

"But, wot d'you wanna us to say?" asked Tom pulling his shorts up, the
outline of the wet patch on the front of his briefs still clearly visible.

"Well umm.." Ian forced himself to look away from Tom's shorts and turned
to Nigel for some inspiration, "oh fuck Nige! Wot we gonna tell 'em? We
can't say wot we was doing here can we!"

"Oh shit no! Uumm... hang on, let's think a minute."

"Don't think too long, fuckin' hurry up before he fuckin' bleeds to death!"
said Art irritably.

"Just say we messing about here, he fell off his bike and we was..." Alex
dried up he looked around for inspiration.

"And.. and we was going for help when we sees you Art and lot in the
road... so you comes and helps." concluded Tom. "That do?"

"Fuckin' have too, now on yer fuckin' bike!" Nigel smiled. "Don't you have
a fuckin' accident neither!"

"I think his eyes opened and closed!" interrupted Art excitedly staring at
Simon's white face.

"That's good innit?" said Richard. "He might just be knocked out a bit
like."

"Bloody hope so." said Nigel under his breath.

"Like wot?" asked Art looking up. "Like wot?"

"I dunno, it's just an expression innit?" replied Richard shrugging his
shoulders.

"Oh, that all." Art was obviously disappointed and hoping for a useful
explanation.

"Sorry."

"It's alright." Art looked at his non-existent wrist watch. "How long's it
been Nige?"

"I think it's only been a couple of minutes, but feels like fuckin' forever
though don't it?"

"That all." Art pulled a face and looked down to Simon, there was no
change.

"Yeah, right you two fuck off right now be quick and while yer gone," said
Ian, "Art'll get him a bit dressed and we'll do something with the bloody
shed!"

"Got it." Alex felt a hand behind his back gently rubbing his bum,
something not unnoticed by Richard as were the dark stains on his vest that
showed through his thin white shorts.

"Well come on then!" Tom removed his hand and moved to grab his
bike. "We're gonna tell 'em that then, yeah? Right?"

"Yes, now bugger off and be fuckin' quick about it," said Ian looking down
at Art, "we're all gonna stick to the same story ain't we?"

Art wasn't really listening he was looking with tears in his eyes at Simon
who's head was still just lying still across his leg.

"Art, you alright?" asked Nigel bending down.

"No I'm fuckin' ain't! I shouldn't have wound him up, then he wouldn't have
jumped would he, the silly little sod." he wiped his eyes and looked
up. "They gonna be long?"

"I fuckin' hope not, yer house is only a five minutes away if they pedals
like fuck."

"Come on you lot, let's put the shed back together before they get's back."
Ian acted like a foreman, but then somebody had to take charge and take the
focus away from Simon.

Understandably muted the boys gathered around the side of the shed lying on
the ground and all bent over ready to lift. Sad as the situation was
Richard unable to stop himself surveyed the collection of bums in white
shorts with the so very obvious lines of their briefs beneath. Hoping he
wasn't being noticed he again rearranged his erection through his wet
pocket, in his very soggy briefs.

"Right, lift on the count of three." Ian was definitely in
charge. "One... two...three..."

"That was easy wunnit?" Nigel stood back and looked at the shed. "Well done
kids, we'll do it again some day!"

That brought a few laughs and lightened the mood for a few moments although
Simon was never far from anyone's thoughts. Looking somewhat skewed and
having a few loose boards the shed wall was back up in position, it
certainly appeared good enough at a distance.

"Right, now is you lot gonna bugger off and leave us to sort Simon out?"
asked Ian.

"No we fuckin' ain't! We wants to know he's alright." replied David
firmly. "Course we ain't going, he's our mate ain't he?"

Nigel looked at Ian, "Can't blame 'em can you?"

"Nah, not really `spose I'd be the same."

Ian, for the first time turned to make eye contact with Martin, it was
something neither had purposely done all afternoon. An unspoken agreement
which just seemed to be the thing to do since emotions were high enough
already without adding the complication of their strong feelings into the
mix. They just smiled at each other, a very telling smile and luckily not
picked up on by anyone else. Ian mouthed one word and winked. "Later."

"Wot you doing, looks like you've cum in yer pants with all these kids
about?"

Startled by the whisper and immediately blushing bright red, Richard spun
round to see Nigel looking down at the front of his trousers.

"It's alright we all fancies 'em at one time or another!" whispered
Nigel. "Which one is it? I had a thing about Tom once, wanked over him
every night!"

"Uumm...none.. don't know wot you means! " Richard swallowed hard and tried
not to look Nigel in the face.

"You lying fucker!" said Nigel grinning and moving to stand almost in front
of him. "It's Dave or Joe innit? I've seen you watching `em!"

"No.. uumm.. no.. fuck you!" lying was utterly useless, he blushed to prove
it.

"Which one, bet his Joe." Nigel continued to grinning "He's got a nice
little cock ain't he?"

"You sod," Richard finally smiled, despite his red face, "yeah alright,
it's Joe innit and I.."

Before Richard could continue a firm hand had cupped the wet front of his
trousers and instinctively located the leaking head of his cock to squeeze
it several times through his foreskin.

"Ahhh... oh no... no... please..." Richard closed his eyes tightly and
began to visibly tremble.

Having no idea Richard was so aroused Nigel was shocked when he began to
rather obviously ejaculate and could even sense the pulsing of his cock
through the various layers of sticky clothing.

"Oh shit! Rich, sorry I, I really didn't mean to.. didn't know you was so
close! I'm so..."

"Uuuhhh..."

"At last, here's the car!" cried David interrupting Nigel's whispered
apology.

"Ooh.."

Richard finished ejaculating even though Nigel never finished the sentence
once David had started excitedly hopping about and pointing to the
allotment entrance.

The car skidded to a halt in a cloud of dust, Ted immediately jumped out
followed by Tom and Alex from the rear doors.

"Art, what's happened?" asked Ted rushing over and kneeling down by Simon's
side.

"He fell off his bike and they was going for help and just bumped into us."
Art couldn't look his father in the face and instead stared down at
Simon. "Just lucky wunnit, so we sent Tom for you?"

"So how long has be been like this?" Ted was looking at the cut on his
forehead which had now stopped bleeding. "Was it long ago, I mean.. two
minutes, half an hour or what?"

"Where's mum?"

"At her mothers and there's no phone is there. Art, how long?"

David was looking at his ubiquitous Timex watch and working out the
time. "I `spose it must be getting on for ten minutes now."

"Shit!" said Ted under his breath not wanting his fears made obvious to the
boys.  "Art, come on give me hand and we'll get him in the car and we'll
take him down to the hospital. There's nothing broken is there?"

"Don't think so," replied Ian, "we had a quick look, he was just flat on
the ground and Art turned him over."

"The hospital?" repeated Art. "Dad, I think he opened his eyes earlier."

"That's a good sign, but he still needs looking at." Ted bent over and ran
his hands quickly over his limbs checking for any obvious broken
bones. "Now come on. I hope it's nothing, he might just have knocked him
self out."

"I'll get his legs in," said Art running over and opening the other rear
door as Ted manoeuvred Simon onto the back seat through the other door.

"Seats a bit wet or something dad." called Art from inside the car.

"What? Oh hell, I don't know, just hurry up." Ted shrugged his shoulders,
there were far more important things to think about.

Hearing that Alex had turned crimson with embarrassment and slowly put a
hand behind to feel his shorts. Having also heard, Tom wasn't sure what to
do, he moved so he could look behind Alex. Sure enough the seat of Alex's
thin shorts were definitely wet and slightly stained, he knew what with.

"Oh fuck!" he whispered. "Tom is it bad?"

"It was that bike ride wunnit?" said Tom very quietly. "Well it's yer old
clothes and `cause they're all thin and... and now they're a bit stained as
well."

"Wot?" Alex didn't quite understand. "Wot's mean stained?"

"Uumm.." Tom was now as embarrassed as Alex, "well it's all come out yer
bum hasn't it?"

"Oh shit!" Alex's mouth dropped, surely the ultimate embarrassment.

Tom reached out and held his hand. "Sorry."

Blinking, Alex squeezed it. The whole day had been rather exciting one way
or another and had been now capped by Simon's accident.

"Right, we're off." said Ted closing the rear door and getting quickly back
in the driving seat. "Thank you boys, promise we'll let you know what it
is, I just hope it's nothing more serious than concussion or something."

Nobody really said anything as the car spun round and with Art crammed in
the back along with Simon set off down the dusty track towards the main
road and the direction of the hospital.

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Chap 104 to follow