Date: Thu, 08 Aug 2013 09:38:58 +0100
From: tom <amias09@fastmail.fm>
Subject: Brief Encounters Chap 124

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

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

An apology!

Do to being away for a few days and rushing back to publish in time I fear
things have gawn wrong!

So, dear faithful reader(s) it looks as though, in Art's graphic parlance I
have made a right cock up of this one right up! Panic not, here for your
delectation is the complete version of C124 which I hope will uplift
spirtits and possibly other unmentionable appendages!

T


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


Chapter 124 – A problem of gigantic proportions

"You wot?" Andy hesitantly pushed the toilet door open and peered around
wondering if Art was indeed in a state of digitus magnum insertium.

"Well fuckin' come in then," Art grinned, still balanced on the toilet with
one hand on his cock and the other pushed between his buttocks, "you ain't
got a spare pair of pants have you, `cause mines all wet now!"

"Uumm.." Andy, a little taken aback at the sight tried to keep the
situation on a stable footing, "well, no.. Uumm... I `spose you could
borrow me gym shorts if you wants `cause I ain't gonna be wearing 'em now."

"Cor thanks, that'll be better than nothing won't it?"

Not really listening Andy stared at the glistening head of Art's cock
poking through the closed fist, "Art wot you doing, I mean.. I know wot yer
doing, but, but why?"

"Because I felt like it!"

"Oh, but why in yer?"

"Why not? Don't you get the urge to do it now and again?" replied Art, who
despite his unusual posture still managed to offer one of his winning
smiles.

"Uumm..."

"Now listen, you knows we didn't mean to make you sick at dinner, don't
you? I mean, that's honest. Is you alright now?"

"Yeah, yeah, that's alright, I knows nobody thought I'd throw up!" replied
Andy slowly, his gaze now having been drawn to the hand between the
buttocks. "And lately, well uumm.. well, I don't think me guts is quite
right anyway."

"So it wasn't just the rice stuff then?" said Art sounding relieved to know
it wasn't entirely his fault.

"Nah. It wasn't." Andy continued to watch. "Art, but I still don`t
understand why yer pants is all wet and you gotta finger up yer ass?

Art grinned, flexed his sphincter and wiggled the finger, Andy's eyes grew
larger as did his cock!

"See, when I wanked in that bowl under the table, a gert load of that
fuckin' rice fell out and musta gone in me pants," Art nodded to the wet
red briefs hanging behind the door, "so then I got dried rice up me bum and
I've had to wash it all. Simple innit? D'you see?"

"Uumm, sort of," Andy didn't really see, but did see that he couldn't
resist feeling the erection through his pocket. "So, so you bin in here
washing yer clothes and picking rice out yer dirty ass?"

"Well, uumm yeah I `spose so," replied Art rather nonchalantly, "but, I
used all them paper towels to clean it, look the fuckin' bogs full up with
'em!"

It was an irresistible invitation, to inspect the toilet bowl which was
indeed full to capacity with pale blue paper towels and standing very
little chance of flushing them all away in one operation.

"Art, since you've used the entire fuckin' lot," Andy grinned, "yer ass
must be really fuckin' clean then?"

"Yeah and fuckin' yeah!" replied Art starting to laugh and almost found
himself unable to complete the sentence. "So tell you wot, you show me
yours and I'll..."

"You wot!" Andy looked startled, the circumstances were surreal to say the
least. "No, no I can't!"

"But you got a gert hard on, I can see you playing with it!" replied Art
looking at the moving fly of Andy's grey trousers.

"Yeah but Art, I can't, honest. I've, I've said me guts ain't been right
today and," Andy blushed, "and, I don't wanna do it.. I've, `cause I've
been to the bog!"

Slowly Art started to grin, withdrawing his hand from between his legs he
began to carefully look the fingers. "Wot you mean is, you got the fuckin'
Izal bog paper skidmarks, `cause you can't wipe it, you just fuckin'
scrapes it!"

Andy, who's anal hygiene was several trillion times more exacting than
Art's clearly found the whole subject incredibly embarrassing and didn't
want to discuss it at all.

"Probably." he muttered.

"Andy, s'alright. I was like it the other day." reassuringly Art smiled and
prepared to move the subject onto a tangent he had been wanted to explore
for some time. "I'll still let you see me bum though if you wants, but mind
you don't touch me plaster!"

Andy's cock twitched at the prospect of Art's anal inspection offer.

"In fact, I reckon after using all these fuckin' wet paper towels me bums
never been so clean," Art grinned again, "I'd even let you lick it if you
wants!"

"Dunno about that!"  Andy visibly relaxed, thinking it was a joke, but the
seed had definitely been planted. "Let's have a look then, uumm and you can
see mine on the camping trip, promise."

"Wot you mean when it's clean!" Art laughed. "That a promise? Yeah?"

"Course, `cause it wouldn't have had the fuckin' stinking Izal treatment
would it!"

"D'you know me fingers don't smell or nothing!" Art looked at them closely
for a few moments.

"Oh! Oh good." not having ever wanted to smell his fingers after a little
anal play Andy managed an encouraging smile even if rather unsure what to
reply.

"You wouldn't even know they'd been up me bum!" replied Art before suddenly
putting one in his mouth!

"Fuckin' hell!" Andy stepped back in surprise. "That's just been up yer
ass!"

"Yeah, but it don't taste of nothing do it, never does do it!" Art casually
licked it again. "Now come here and have a look if you wants."

After seeing Art suck a finger that had been up his bum Andy was somewhat
shocked by nevertheless moved towards him, being fatally drawn by the
opportunity to inspect and possibly prod a perfectly clean bum was now
quite irresistible.

"You can put a finger up if you wants, `cause now we knows it's clean
innit?"

"Uumm.. maybe." Andy's cock lurched against the growing wet spot inside his
Wolsey briefs.

With one leg still on the toilet and unable to properly see behind Art
could only guess what Andy was intending to do. It didn't take long to find
out, putting a hand on each buttock and slowing massaging in opposing
circles, Art's sphincter very soon adopted a winking movement.

"Fuck, that's nice. But, please don't touch me plaster."

Naturally Art was not actually admitting that it was the very same motion
he frequently employed before pushing something of the dubious vegetable or
mineral variety hard up his passage on a Saturday night when thinking Simon
in the adjoining room had gone to sleep.

"Wot you gonna do now?"

Andy didn't reply, instead Art felt a fingertip slowly running up the
length of his crack only to pause over his hole, it seemed from the body
heat that he was now standing very close.

"Wot you gonna do?" repeated Art excitedly continuing to masturbate.

"Dunno, just thinking about it! Wot d'you fancy?" Andy's mouth was going
dry, this had now entered uncharted sexual territory.

"Wot after this? Fuck I dunno, `spose we start by looking for James' new
pants!"

"I'd forgot about them!"

"Right. Well I ain't! Now," breathed Art. "wotever it is yer wanting to do
to me, just fuckin' hurry up or I'm gonna cum over the floor!"

The next thing Art knew was that Andy was pressed up against him and had
hooked one leg hooked around his so that he could hump himself forcefully
into Art's naked thigh.

"Oh fuck, yer trousers is all damp!" muttered Art excitedly as Andy pulled
them tightly together.

It was when Art began to feel Andy's hot breath and what seemed like a wet
finger on the small of his back that he finally recognised Andy had
definitely entered into the spirit of things and lost his usual self
control. That was confirmed when a strange hand suddenly forced it's way
between Art's legs to very roughly grab at his leaking shaft.

"Oh fuck! Yer, yer poking me ass!" Art squirmed having felt a warm, wet
object starting to ply his sphincter.

"Hhmmm.." moaned Andy, his face buried deep between Art's buttocks.

"Now... oh fuckin' hell! Yer doing it! Holy fuck! It's yer fuckin' tongue!
I'm.. I'm.. cumming!" exclaimed Art having now delightedly realised it
wasn't a finger, but an energetic tongue and was the experience that wet
dreams could be made of.

Andy's humping motion had increased to the point where Art thought he was
going to loose his balance, reaching out to steady himself on the toilet
wall his cock began to throb. Pulling Art tighter to maintain his own
balance Andy had already started ejaculating into his briefs whilst his
tongue eagerly savoured everything that was on offer between the hot
buttocks. Ramming himself into Art's thigh with his briefs filling with
semen his cock slid about so much it escaped the elastic to jerk against
inside his grey trousers.

The incredible feelings generated by licking Art's rectum, ejaculating into
his own briefs whilst continuing to roughly masturbate Art between his legs
was pretty much Andy's idea of heaven. However, that idea of heaven didn't
include the vast quantity of spunk which Art had begun to miraculously
produce from the reddened head of his cock. Hanging in long strings from
Andy's fingers most of the semen found it's gravitational resting place as
a glistening decoration to the sleeve of his blazer.



Unable to escape the house Simon had been getting more and more frustrated
at having to stay around when having nothing to do. However despite still
limping, his ankle was now rapidly improving and he had been delighted to
hear that his mother thought him well enough to return to school the next
day, albeit with a lift in.

Being as addicted to masturbation as Art and with little else to occupy the
time his day started by being woken by the sound of Art's alarm clock in
the adjoining room. Listening to the creaking of the bed and hearing the
groans though the wall was the cue for Simon to loosen his own pyjamas and
join Art for his first ejaculation of the day. Invariably he would try to
catch the discharge in an old pair of briefs or if matters progressed a
little too quickly then either the sheet or the stained fly of his pale
green striped pyjama trousers would have to suffice.

More often than not, from the moment he had ejaculated his cock would
remain erect even after he had got up and dressed, meaning he had to
disguise it from his mother. The reason for the constant erection was
simply that he was waiting for her to go out shopping which would leave him
with full access to the cummy secrets of Art's bedroom. Although quite what
it was which held the fascination for him in respect of his brothers fetid
underwear and disgusting habits he wasn't entirely sure, knowing only that
fuelled by such thoughts he could masturbate indefinitely. Besides which,
there was one secret which had so far eluded him and he was determined to
find the answer.

Once Linda had said she was off shopping and the closed of the front door
behind her, Simon would rush upstairs to look out of the window to check
she was on her way down the street. Convinced she was not going to turn
back he would go into Art's room and take stock of the shambles that it
usually was, starting with the bed. Art never made his bed, usually just
throwing the covers back over it in an untidy heap, a heap which Simon
would carefully dissect looking for signs of ejaculation, something usually
accompanied by pushing a hand down the front of his shorts.

With the freedom of being alone in the house, Simon had set himself the
rather enviable quest of discovering exactly why Art's evening and morning
emissions never seemed to leave any fresh evidence! Metaphorically, it was
something he hadn't been able to put a finger on and so far hadn't found
little more than traces of dried semen on the pyjamas, bedding and
certainly no sign of the ubiquitous cumrag! However, the one thing he had
found was that it was incredibly erotic to inspect and sniff at the dirty
bedding, pyjamas and the discarded clothes that were strewn over the floor.

Pulling at the bedclothes and working down through the blankets whilst
slowly masturbating Simon's heart almost skipped a beat when he finally
arrived at the top sheet and his highly trained nose smelt something
strangely familiar. Since the sheets hadn't been changed for well over a
couple of weeks the suspicious, if small wet patch was partially masked by
the other small blotches of dried urine and semen. So excited at actually
finding some evidence, Simon buried his head in it the sheet and drew in
the potent mix of smells, finally allowing his tongue to lick it. His hand
pushed down the front of his Woollworths briefs was working overtime, it
was definitely time to check the bottom sheet.

Barely able to contain himself at the thought of what he might discover he
threw the other bedclothes on the floor and excitedly leant over the
mattress to begin a detailed inspection. A detailed examination proved
rather unnecessary since there was no hiding the various stains which
confirmed Art to be indulging in some rather messy practices. However much
to Simon's disappointment there was nothing which resembled the obvious
signs of the full scale ejaculations which he had hoped to find as in the
past. There were simply numerous small yellowing spots of either pee or
spunk and some puzzling faint brown marks, which unknown to Simon resulted
from the withdrawal of the weekly vegetable toys. Had he realised, carrots
with Sunday lunch would never be the same again!

Rapidly pulling his shorts and briefs down to his knees and masturbating at
a faster rate Simon again scoured the bottom sheet for signs of fresh
semen, but there were none. Disappointed that Art had once again evaded
detection he rather awkwardly climbed onto the bed and lowered himself down
so that his erection touched the sheet.

If Art wasn't going to leave his mark, then he would!

Pushing himself down he began to hump the bed, in fact just as Art had done
only hours before. Suddenly he spotted Art's pyjama trousers partially
hidden and pushed under the edge of the mattress, on pulling them out he
was rewarded by finding a sticky area around the fly. Having again
confirmed that Art had ejaculated he continued humping the bed, his white
bum in the air, briefs and blue shorts around his knees with the pyjama
trousers on the pillow. Pushing his head into them he licked and sucked the
congealing spunk around the fly until he ejaculated copiously onto the
bottom sheet.

Idolising Art, was something Simon would never admit to and he thought this
unusual form of brotherly bonding would somehow bring them closer. The act
being concluded by rubbing his stomach over the discharge until both he and
the sheet were smeared with semen, at which point he simply lay exhausted
on the bed sniffing the bedding.

"Simon, are you upstairs?" Linda's voice rang up the stairs a couple of
seconds after the front door had closed behind her.

In horror, Simon's immediate reaction was to sit bolt upright and then jump
off the bed and attempt to pull his shorts up as he did so.

"Ohhhhh ssshhiiiiii..." he cried having landed awkwardly on his bad ankle
and then noisily fallen over.

"Simon, What is it? What have you done now!" called Linda having heard the
crash and already started towards the staircase.

"Just tripped.. I'm alright.." Simon replied screwed his face up in pain
and feeling his ankle, "mum I'm coming down now... you, you stay there."

"Oh no, Simon I'll come up and see what's happened."

"No! Fuck! Fuck!" he said under his breath pulling his shorts up over his
wet stomach and hobbling as quickly as he could towards the pile of
bedclothes on the floor. Throwing them on top the bed he turned hoping to
get out of the room before his mother appeared.

"Oh, you're in Art's room." Linda seemed a little surprised to see him
coming out of the doorway as she reached the landing.

"I was, was uumm.. looking for something.. for school.." he replied
hesitantly.

Not only did he sound unconvincing, he looked incredibly flushed and
guilty.

"Simon what have you been doing, you look very guilty!" smiling, Linda
intended the comment only as joke and was quite unaware that in dressing so
quickly he had also twisted his underpants so that it felt as though he
were being castrated!

"I.. I... nothing.. mum nothing..." bright red, he tried to move to the top
of the staircase to escape downstairs. Unfortunately at that point his
ankle decided to give way again and he collapsed in a heap inadvertently
crossing his legs in the process and crushing his balls which were
protruding from the elastic inside his shorts!

"Oh darling, let me help get you on your bed," said Linda seeing he
appeared to be in some pain and moving to pick him up, "you're going to
make that ankle a lot worse if you're not careful then you won't be able to
go back to school before the half term."

Simon didn't actually reply as she helped him to his feet, instead he
blinked back the tears caused by the pain between his legs and wondered if
he would ever be able to masturbate again!

"What`s that smell?" asked Linda as she helped him limp back into his own
room.

"Wot! Wot smell? " he asked innocently despite again flushing a brilliant
shade of red although safe in the knowledge that since his shirt was stuck
to him with semen it was unlikely to ride up outside his shorts.

"Oh I don't know, probably something from that Art's room!" she looked at
him. "What were you after in there anyway, you know he doesn't like us
going in."

"Me... me uumm.. getting me compass.. he lent it off me.." Simon thought as
rapidly as he could, "it's needed for maths innit?"

"Simon, he didn't lend if off you, you let him borrow it." Linda raised he
eyebrows in despair. "Don't they teach you anything, it's supposed to be a
grammar school!"

"Sorry." thankfully he lay back on the bed, his balls throbbing more than
his ankle.

"Now stay there," she said turning to go out of the room, "if you let that
ankle recover for an hour I expect it will be alright."

"Yes mum." watching the door partially close he put one hand very gingerly
down the front of his blue shorts, the other hand up the left leg and
attempted to massage his elliptical appendages.

"I'm just going to try and tidy Art's room a bit." she called out crossing
the landing.

"Wot mum! Yer not are you?" he called at the half open door. "He'll go
mad!"

"Simon I know that," she called back, "but, I do want to change those
sheets. They must be revolting by now and I've asked him countless times to
do it last week!"

"No, no... not the sheets..."

Simon's voice trailed off, he waited with baited breath only too aware of
what was to happen next. He didn't have to wait too long, within a couple
of minutes there was a shriek from across the landing.

"Oh my god!" shouted Linda rapidly wiping her hand on the dirty
bedding. "It's disgusting, won't he ever stop doing it!"

"Wot is it mum?" despite knowing full well what had happened, Simon was
unable to stop himself from asking.

"I think we both know what he's been doing," she paused and then emphasised
the last three words, "don't we Simon?"

Simon cringed, he knew exactly what she meant. Very uncharacteristically
Linda was for once being very blunt. Very blunt, but surely he thought not
implying that she had noticed his seminal contributions as well?

Keeping up with the mountain of washing the boys produced, all graphically
adorned with semen wasn't something she found particularly enticing nor a
subject she could actually put into words. Now, she had for what must be
the N'th time she had inadvertently handled Art's bedding impregnated with
fresh semen, a disgusting habit she'd hoped he had finally grown out of. To
compound her feelings it had been bad enough having Art ejaculating over
everything for the last three years, but now Simon was also in full flow,
albeit under the naive impression that his emissions were going
unnoticed. Understandably, the maternal patience was stretched to the
limit.

For Simon though there was now a problem of gigantic proportions. Should he
let Art be accused of defiling his bedding when he had not or, or what?



"Now come on class keep up," Miss Olsen strode down the side of the playing
field, "it's probably our last chance to get out here and find some
specimens before the rain sets in over the weekend."

"Wot we gonna get now?" whispered Tom to Alex.

"I dunno, more bloody leaves and things," Alex shrugged his shoulders,
"she'll want us to cut `em up again I `spose like last week."

"I mean, why do we need to cut 'em up anyway?" Tom pulled a face. "It's
only bits of plants innit?"

"It's all do with all that chloro.. uumm chloro... chlorothing stuff
innit?" said Brian.

"I thought that was a toothpaste!" Alex laughed.

"Well wotever it, is I'm glad she got us out of the bleeding classroom
`cause it was beginning to stink of pee wunnit?" said Tom.

"D'you reckon she could really smell something then?" asked Brian sniffing
as they walked along.

"Well I can, can't you?" replied Tom. "We shouldn't have done it should we,
I mean really like? Gawd, we was really lucky to get away with it when the
bell rang wasn't we?"

"Bloody lucky." agreed Brian. "Only just made the class."

"Nah, yer right, we shouldn't done not really I `spose." said Alex
beginning to sniff his own uniform. "I know it was fun at the time, but it
was a gert mistake wunnit."

"If you means you smells of piss and yer shorts are all stuck to yer legs,
then yeah it was!" said Tom. "But I wanna do it again, somewhere where we
won't be caught."

Alex nodded in complete agreement. "In our white shorts and that, that's
wot you means innit?"

Tom grinned. "Yeah and we got next week to do it."

"Hey, look." Brian nodded towards Charles who appeared to be walking in a
rather awkward manner few paces ahead. "Look at Gog's you can tell his
shorts is still all wet and stuck to him."

"He enjoyed it didn't he?" added Tom. "And he said he's pissed himself
before ain't he?"

"Well be honest, we all enjoyed it, didn't we?" said Alex.

"Right, well if we did then wot we gotta do," Tom grinned, "is to dress for
it and find somewhere to do it proper over the half term break innit?"

"You just said that!" replied Alex excitedly pushed his hand into the wet
lining of his shorts pocket. "With us all wearing our gym shorts and that?"

"Course, wot else?" said Tom. "They goes all see through when they`re all
wet don't they!"

"Yeah." Alex's hand movements increased. "But where, that's the big
question innit?"

"And I'll bet Gog's will be keen won't he?" said Brian. "Now, we gonna let
Barry come along?"

"Why not." said Alex. "But then wot about yer brother Robbie, d'you want
him as well?"

"Dunno." Brian rubbed the front of his shorts. "Oh I `spose so, after all
him and Barry are always at it somewhere and I 'spose Gog's willy's is
about their size!"

"Right that's settled then." said Tom. "On shit, now listen `cause I forgot
to say something, Art grabbed me just before dinner and said he thought
Simon would be back tomorrow. So if he is, we can get the details all
worked out with Dave and Joe as well."

"Right. But where the hell could we do it without being caught." asked
Brian.

"That's the problem innit?" said Tom, his fingers in his pocket trying to
peel his wet briefs away from his stomach.

"Dunno, I need to think about that." said Alex, thinking that since his
briefs were already wet he might as well have another session in the bath
when he got home.

"Hey!" Brian suddenly pulled at Tom's arm. "I got it, I knows where we can
do it!"




"Well bugger me!"

"I nearly did!" Andy burst out laughing and turned to see Art rummaging
through the clothes hanging in the corner of the changing room.

"Oh bloody hell!" exclaimed Art in surprise.

"Well wot you found now?"

"Shit, well I ain't seen nothing like it!"

"Seen like fuckin' wot?" Andy quickly pushed Harry's heavily stained
Y-fronts back into the hanging trousers and walked the few paces to where
Art was standing.

"Well wot is then?"

"You still got yer hard on?"

"Course I fuckin' have!" Andy flushed, still not entirely comfortable in
admitting it. "Bleeding hell Art, wot d'you fuckin' expect after we've just
looked at every pair of pants in the place!"

"Nah, we ain't just looked at 'em," replied Art, "we've fuckin' inspected
'em, there's a gert difference!"

"Oh alright, we've fuckin' gert inspected 'em for pee and cum stains."

"How can I fuckin' teach you about the fuckin' finer points of dirty pants
if you don't even get the terminfuckinology right!" said Art trying not to
laugh and obviously clutching something under his blazer. "You only gotta
do this a couple of times before you'll know who does wot in their pants!"

"Wot d'you fuckin' mean?" said Andy start to laugh. "You'll know?"

"Well I knows wot they all wears, like Harry's Y-fronts is always covered
in pee stains and, and Richard tucks his vest into his pants to soak up all
the precum and.." he paused for a second, "Nigel's Y-fronts is worn out!
Ian cums in his and wears 'em for a couple of days at a time and.. and
Martin's pale blue Y-fronts often has spunk stains! That do for a start?"

"Oh shit!" said Andy really surprised at Art's encyclopedic knowledge of
his classmates underwear. "So, so wot d'you about me?"

"You wears Wolsey X, you cums in 'em now and again and you usually has skid
marks!"

"Oh fuck!" Andy went bright red.

"Yer mate James gets 'em very yellow with piss and wanks in 'em
occasionally! He's got worn out St Michael which is why his mum's just
bought him something new!"

"Fuck! You knows everybody in the class!"

"Yeah and a lot of them in Simon's year!" Art grinned proudly. "It takes a
lotta training, but don't forget I started doing this when I was a first
year."

"Oh fuckin' hell!" Andy shook his head in disbelief, he knew he took an
interest in other boys underpants, but nothing on the scale of Art's
amazing knowledge. "Oh Art, for fucks sake shut up and get on with it, so
wot have you found now then?"

"Before I shows you, d'you reckon you could cum again?" Art smiled, one of
those smiles. Andy just knew he would do whatever was requested of
him. "It's only been twenty minutes or so since we did?"

"Course I fuckin' can, I often does it twice at night before I goes to
sleep !"

"Only twice!" Art's smile changed to an evil grin. "Right then, `cause now
we're both gonna wank over James' new pants!"

"You wot!"

"No, not you, we! Don't forget he's fuckin' cum in 'em himself at dinner
time when you was starting to throw up so they're already sticky!"

Theatrically from under his blazer Art produced what at first glance looked
like a pair of white briefs and proceeded to lay them out on the bench.

"Fuckin' assholes! So that's wot his mum bought him!" exclaimed Andy
looking at them in disbelief. "No wonder he was all fuckin' worried about
being seen in 'em! Looks like somebody's knitted them sides onto the middle
bit!"

"It's called string underwear innit?" Art poked at the pouch, still quite
sticky from James earlier ejaculation. "Look, the label says St Michael, so
they're Marks and Sparks, I'll bet they even does a matching vest!"

"Bloody hell, Marks and Sparks!" repeated Andy in amazement. "They're
horrible! Reckon they sell many?"

"Dunno, don't care, but fuckin' listen," said Art, "we'll both wank into
the pouch bit then he won't know wot's happened and just think he musta
done a really gert load at dinner time!"

"Oh fuck!" Andy started to laugh.

"No, we ain't fuckin'," Art grinned, "well not this time, we're just
wanking!"

"Can you imagine it," spluttered Andy "you'd feel a right fuckin' cunt
wearing the complete matching set to school wouldn't you?"

"Never!"

Art burst out laughing and started to unzip his trousers to reveal the head
of his cock visible through the wet front of Andy's grubby white gym shorts
which he had opted to wear in place of his wet red briefs. Taking the hint
and suddenly feeling very uninhibited Andy unzipped his trousers and
allowed them to drop to his knees to expose the front of his Wolsey briefs
wet with spunk from his recent ejaculation.

"Cor, they looks all juicy! And, you stinks of cum!" said Art sniffing as
he bent down to look at the reddened head of Andy's cock which was now
starting to escape the elastic. "Still I `spose you can use a bit of it for
lube, looks like you could do with it!"

"D'you want some, me pants is full up!" Andy started to giggle
uncontrollably.

"Mmhh.. why not!" Art rubbed his fingers firmly of the front and watched as
Andy wriggled under his hand.

"Art don't do that again, I might cum!"

"Ain't that wot we's here for?"

Andy grinned, his twitching cock poked from the side of the briefs. Running
his hand up the shaft, it was indeed as Art had so rightly surmised
somewhat sticky and in need of some lubricant.

"You be careful getting yer cock out me gym shorts, don't rip 'em for fucks
sake or me mum'll go bonkers."

"I'm surprised she'd even wanna to touch 'em, you been doing things in 'em
long before I `em put on!" replied Art pulling the waistband down under his
balls and allowing his own much abused organ to twang into focus.

"She bloody won't if she knows wot you've been doing in 'em!" Andy glanced
at the liquid that was already appearing to seep from the end of Art's
cock. "Please, please try not to bring 'em back all covered in cum!"

"Would I? Look, I'll wash 'em meself for you!" Art grinned and spat into
the palm of his hand. "Now get wanking, first one to cum gets to finish
tossing the other off then we gotta tidy that fuckin' cupboard or Hawkins
won't love us no more!"

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Chap 125 to follow