Date: Wed, 15 Jan 2014 11:08:58 +0000
From: tom <amias09@fastmail.fm>
Subject: Brief Encounters Chapter 135

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
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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
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It's very easy and painless, you just follow the donations link on the main
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would do it if he could - come to that, he'd do it anywhere!

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

Chapter 135 – Thunder and lightening

Of course sodt's law dictated that the rain had to increase to the point
where the boys were driven into their respective tents for
shelter. Understandably not helped by being their first ever time away from
home, some of the shyer boys they were experiencing a strange and rather
apprehensive feeling of what might happen as the evening wore on and
bedtime drew closer.

For the others that had been harbouring unspeakable designs on their best
friend, for them the last of the bedtime fantasies would have been the
previous night. Now, with just the two of them alone in the tent it was the
opportunity to put those fantasies into practice. Oddly though a strange
combination of embarrassment and lack of courage brought them to the point
whereby in most cases one was waiting for the other to make the first
move. So, whilst Rome theoretically burned they fiddled around sorting out
their belongings, each hoping the other would initiate matters.

However, for the likes of Ian and Martin, Art and Nigel or Andy and James
and now Robin and Richard there was a certainty of what they wanted to
happen whether through sheer physical lust or emotional ties. Rather like
in the wild west, when red indians would have made blood brothers by
cutting themselves and mingling the blood, for the boys of the fourth form
it was far less painful, but sometimes messy in that they would simply swop
underpants!

In fact all except Robin and Richard had managed to achieve that simple
goal within minutes of disappearing inside their tents. The miracle of
self-control being that nobody had actually ejaculated, albeit there were a
few leaky moments and that everybody now had an erection which was likely
to be permanent for the duration!

However, Richard was more than somewhat embarrassed in that his excessive
precum production had been in full flow on the coach for most of the
journey. Since it now felt as though everything below his waist had turned
rather soggy he was, despite his previous candour with Robin quite
reluctant to let him see the evidence.

"Wot's up Rich? Since we got the tent up you've gone a bit quiet." Robin
pushed his rucksack into the corner of the tent at the far end of his
blanket version of a sleeping bag. "You alright?"

"No. It's me innit?" Richard stared out of the tent flap at the rain and
the hedge beyond.

"Yeah, well I know it's you or I wouldn't be fuckin' here would I?"

"Well, it's me innit?" he repeated.

Robin moved carefully over to Richards side of the tent avoiding the
leaning tent poles to sit on the airbed beside him, he looked up at the
sagging ridge pole. "You sure this fuckin' tent is alright, old Hawkins
didn't think you had it put up right and thought it was leaning a bit."

"Yeah, it fuckin' is right. It's just how me dad told me to put it up."

"Well I got mine up as well, mind you it's been up all night thinking of
you as well!" Robin grinned. "Now wot's up with you and wot am I `sposed to
be looking at then?"

"Up all night? Disgusting boy, you'll get hairy hands!" said Richard
managing a smile. "It's me innit, every bleeding time. Now look, can't you
see it?"

"See wot? No?" Robin looked Richard up and down, he smiled. "No, wot? It's
just you I'm looking at innit?"

"Well if I lies down, can you see now?" Richard stretched out and leant
backwards towards the pillow, propping himself up on one arm. "Look at me
now. Up close."

Robin looked him up and down again. "Oh fuck!"

"It's `cause of you, I can't stop it, `cause I been hard all the bleeding
way in the coach and I forgot to put the bleeding sock on me cock didn't
I?" Richards voice was cracking slightly. "I only got the one pair of
jeans, I forgot me spare pair `cause I was late getting going this
morning. I can't wear these for three days can I?"

The front of Richard's blues jeans were absolutely soaking wet and from the
sheen it certainly wasn't from the rain.

"Rob, nobody can see in here, we're facing the hedge, undo the button, pull
me zip down and see it all for yerself."

"You sure?"

"You want to don't you, `cause I want you to as well!"

Without waiting for a further invitation Robin reached over and held the
waistband as he felt for the zip, Richard immediately squirmed beneath his
touch and deposited even more precum into his briefs.

"Bloody hell you still got me pants on!" exclaimed Robin immediately
recognising the distinctive C&A fly as the jeans were literally peeled
back. "D'you know, I'm still wearing yours, I put 'em on this morning
specially."

Unfortunately for Richard, fuelled by his attraction for Robin it seemed as
though he had never made so much precum in his life. The white underpants
were literally wringing wet, several strands of precum extended to the
inside of his jeans. He just looked as though he was going to burst into
tears.

"Come on." Robin took his hand and squeezed it. "If you've made the mess
`cause of me then I gotta clean you up. That's fair innit?"

"But how?" Richard despondently shrugged his shoulders. "Wot with, we ain't
got nothing?"

"Uum.." Robin racked his brain, then dived to the end of the bed and
dragged his bag towards them. "I'll sleep in me pants and we'll use me
pyjamas! Let's wipe up as much as we can and then you can start using the
sock on yer cock again."

"Will you do that for me?" Richard blinked and looked away. "With yer
pyjamas?"

"You silly sod, course I will. You just lie back and close yer eyes, lets
get you looking a bit better." Robin looked down at Richard, eyes closed
now seemingly relaxed and content that he was being taken quite literally
in hand.

"I've thought of what I want you to do, when we get back here after tea."
said Richard quietly without opening his eyes.

"Have you. So've I!" Robin smiled, his cock rubbed it's slimy head against
the inside of the oversize Y-fronts he was wearing. "Now don't get me going
any more, so just fuckin' shut up a minute while I does me best to clean
you up."

"You'll love it!" added Richard.

"I'm sure I will, but we gotta get you sorted a bit first and get that sock
back on yer cock. Then you're gonna stand in the rain and get yer jeans all
wet so this don't show too much."



Pitched a little further up the field was a dirty old white tent, not
entirely fully waterproof as Clive Browne was quickly finding out. Sat on
his bed he was looking at the rivulets of water running down the tent poles
where they met the ridge and onto the groundsheet.

"Me uncle said this thing didn't leak." he pulled a face and looked across
at Terry Parsons sat on the end of his airbed, having just finished blowing
it up with the blanket version of his sleeping bag rolled up to keep dry.

"Well he was lying through his bleeding teeth wasn't he?" Terry
smiled. "Won't need no shower or a wash if we stays in this bloody thing
for three days will us?"

"No! But look, never mind the fuckin' tent," Clive looked at him, "more
important, how was the weekend with yer dad?"

"Oh shit. I knew you'd ask." the smile instantly drained from Terry's
face. Already rather pale and skinny without the smile he looked distinctly
unhappy.

"Come on and tell me, `cause I know wot it's like wot with my dad and them
fuckin' brothers of mine. With us four boys under sixteen all pissing about
and playing up, he'd just fuckin' loose it," Clive couldn't look Terry in
the face any more, "he'd just grab who was nearest, rip his trousers down
and spank hell out of his bare ass!  Being the youngest it was usually me."

"You've never said it like that before."

"No, well it's not the sort of thing you wanna admit is it? That yer dad
knocks shit outta you." it was Clive's turn to sniff. "Then when I got into
this school and all me brothers was still at the comp they fuckin' joined
in as well saying I was too clever for them so they'd poke me about as
well."

"You'd hinted at it, but never said it." Terry sounded shocked, at least
his problem was only with his father and not compounded by three older
brothers.

"I `spose it's why I've been a bit of sod here to other kids innit?" he
looked away at his admission of bullying.

"You did have a bit of a reputation. I was quite afraid of you at first."
Terry tried to look him in the face. "But then you stood up for me when
them others started taking the piss `cause they'd caught me crying, but
that was only `cause of dad hitting mum and all that."

"Yeah, well.. it wasn't fair was it, one of you and five of them." Clive
turned away.

"I have difficulty putting things into word sometimes." Terry blinked. "It
just seemed you knew what I was going through and might have had something
like it too. You understood, maybe that's why we.."

"Oh fuckin' shut up!"

With at Clive started to get up and moved towards Terry's airbed. "You
looks really fucked. Want me to come over to hold yer hand?"

"I know I'm fucked. This dad thing is getting to me." he paused. "You ain't
really gonna hold me hand is you? I mean, boy and boy and that."

"Well, why not, bet yer mum holds it now and again don't she? I will if you
wants."

Clive was now unsure where he was going emotionally. But, he did know on
his first ever night away from home a little physical contact would be
welcome. "So tell me wot happened this time?"

"Saturday night he got pissed again didn't he." Terry took a deep
breath. "Came home about eleven and started another row with mum."

"Did he... well, did he... you know.." Clive sat next to him and took his
hand, Terry didn't object, in fact he welcomed the gesture.

Both having become rather insular with an enervating home life it had taken
time establish trust in each, hence their friendship had blossomed
slowly. However, the upside was that with Clive now having actually found a
friend he had dropped his defensive attitude which in turn meant the rest
of the class had relaxed and more or less accepted him into the
fold. Terry, having only joined the school a year or so back had always
been thought to be pleasant enough although appearing more than a little
reserved and timid.

With Clive taking Terry's hand it was really the first time they had really
touched each other. Even agreeing that they would share the same tent had
been a brave step, particularly as in their discussions to date they had
never even got as far as mentioning anything remotely connected with sex
other than as fleeting innuendo. It was an unspoken fact that each boy
masturbated, so to be confined to a small tent for three days it seemed by
the law of averages that at some time the subject would have to be
broached.

"You mean, did he ht her? No. Not this time. He started shouting at me
instead." Terry closed his eyes and gripped Clive's hand.

"And?"

"He went on bit shouting for a while, then sorta collapsed on the sofa and
fell asleep."

"Oh, well that was something, at least he bloody shut up!"

Trying to keep from crying Terry kept his eyes tightly closed. "Mum don't
know what it's all about. A year ago he was just a lovely dad, but since we
moved here, I just dunno, might be his job. He seems fine in the week, but
we now dreads weekends."

"Go easy." very tentatively Clive put an arm around his shoulder. "At least
he didn't try and hit you again like he did before did he?"

"No. But, something's happened to him and I don't know wot, `cept he's
changed. Seems every bloody weekend he gets pissed and takes it out on us."
he sniffed. "Next day he's apologising and everything, saying he'll never
do it again. It's driving me and mum nuts."

"Hey..." Clive had started to giggle,

"Wot's so funny, wot have I said?" Terry looked at him and couldn't quite
grasp the instant attitude transformation from the sublime to the
ridiculous.

"No. It's not you, it's," Clive laughed, "it's yer fuckin' airbed that's
going down mate, I'm sat on the fuckin' ground now!"

"Oh shit!" surprised Terry looked down. Indeed they were, although Terry
was still an inch off ground level and perilously close to the small lake
forming on the groundsheet around the bottom of tent pole.

"The plugs at your end, you'd better have a look. Might have come out I
`spose." he said pointing. "Blow the bugger up again."

Terry slid off the edge and onto his haunches to lean over and inspect the
rubber bung. "It's still stuck in it's hole, it ain't come out."

Clive didn't reply for a few seconds, he was experiencing a new and very
strange feeling without being at all sure how to deal with it. With Terry
bent over in front of him the gap between the top of his jeans and his
shirt had expanded to a good couple of inches to expose the unmistakable
sight of an Aertex vest tucked into the waistband of matching Aertex
briefs. Having never harboured thoughts of another boy before there was
something about the closeness of Terry which made his heart flutter and his
cock jump inside his Y-fronts.

Unlike most boys of his age, Clive's libido didn't encompass furiously
masturbating on a daily basis, in fact sometimes it was only two or three
times a week and month or so back he had even awoken to find lack of
activity had precipitated a wet dream! Despite having three brothers he had
only ever been a solo performer, although lately as he felt his friendship
with Terry intensifying he had making himself put any thoughts of physical
contact out of his mind. Now it was going to be the test of his willpower.

"Must be bloody leaking somewhere else." said Terry peering at the bung.

"Uumm.." Clive's mouth was dry, unable to take his eyes off the sight of
Terry's slim, body clad in the matching white vest and briefs he mumbled,
"You'll, you'll have to blow it up again then."

"Oh fuck, that's hard work!" Terry turned round and smiled as he reached
for his blanket bed. "Can I put me stuff on your bed then while I do it?"

"Yer, course you can, give it over here."

Clive reached over to take the rolled up blanket to keep it off the wet
floor, Terry then picked up his rucksack and threw it over onto Clive's
bed. It landed almost upside down and as Clive made a grab it to stop it
falling on the wet groundsheet almost the entire contents fell out over his
bed.

"Oh fuckin' hell, it's all me stuff!" exclaimed Terry.

"Don't worry, least it didn't go on the floor," said Clive finding himself
unable to resist looking at the contents, "I'll put it all back in while
you blows up the airbed."

"OK, alright," replied Terry, thinking to himself that best friend or not,
it didn't seem quite right that Clive should be handling all his personal
possessions.

Clive really didn't understand what was happening to him. Within moments of
touching Terry's clothes he had an erection and almost stopped breathing
when he began to slowly put the soft mesh of the two clean sets of Aertex
underwear back into the bag. He glanced at Terry, who still bending over
with even more of his underpants on display was huffing and puffing as he
blew up the airbed.

"Not, uumm, not many boys uumm," stuttered Clive absolutely unable to stop
himself asking the question, "well, uumm.. wear Aertex vest and pants do
they?"

"You wot? Fuckin', Aertex?"

Terry stopped blowing and put his finger over the hole to retain the air he
had so laboriously managed to blow inside. Turning he saw Clive sat on the
bed rubbing the soft mesh of a vest between his fingers and looking bright
red in the face.

"Fuck. Fuck. Oh Terry.. I'm sorry.. " mumbled Clive dropping the vest and
putting his head in his hands. "I just don't know wot the hell came over
me.. I'm sorry... I didn't mean to, to.. ask."

"Wot?" Terry was slightly confused having missed part of Clive's
question. "Wot, no, don't think many do. It's me mum that buys 'em innit?
Why d'you like Aertex then, `cause I do!"

"You still talking to me, I thought you'd have told me to fuck off and that
I was queer or something asking about yer undies!" replied Clive having
automatically assumed Terry would be angry.

"Have I missed something mate, I'm a bit fuckin' lost in this
conversation!" Terry looked at Clive who was plainly highly embarrassed,
but over what?

"Annoyed over the question."

"Hey, yer all upset now, I didn't quite catch wot you said in the first
place, so wot bloody question, wot have I done? Wot question was it then?"

"I don't know wot's happening to me." blurted out Clive looking almost as
though he was going to cry. "I shouldn't have but, but I wanted to ask you
about yer pants!"

"Something's got you going, ain't it? I ain't never seen you like this
before, it's usually me that gets all fucked up." It was now Terry's turn
to sit beside Clive, dropping his partially inflated airbed in the process
it immediately deflated with a delicate farting noise.

"I don't understand wot I wants." muttered Clive. "I was fine earlier, but,
but I dunno wot, wot's come over me."

"Look at me. I reckons," Terry nudged him forcing him to make eye contact,
"if we're real friends like and we can talk honestly about our dads
knocking shit out of us, then surely we can talk about me undies if that's
wot you wants to talk about."

"We can?" Clive screwed his eyes up. "No! No, I don't mean that. Oh fuck!"

"Why not?" Terry pushed his knee against Clive's.

"We can?" Clive swallowed hard knowing it was the physical contact he had
been wanting, but trying to put out of his mind.

For Terry though, it was something he had been desperate to do since the
ride on the coach when he, like Clive had suddenly become aware that there
could be more to their friendship than merely words. Terry, unlike Clive
conformed more to the fifteen year old boy routine of masturbating night
and morning, but had been wondering how he could sublimate his desires in
such close proximity of Clive since neither had ever mentioned sex before.

"We can?" repeated Clive again unexpectedly delighted at Terry's positive
response.

"Yeah why not, anyway I got two clean sets, so if you was really that
interested you could borrow one if you wants! So wot make d'you wear then?"

"Y-fronts." stuttered Clive rather surprised that Terry had not noticed
during getting changed for games. "They're a bit big, me mum buys 'em for
me and me next older brother who's a bit bigger, so we shares 'em."

"Wot, yer wearing yer brother pants?" Terry looked really interested
now. "But they could have , well, uumm.. you know.."

"Yeah, I know.. skidmarks and that in 'em?" Clive blushed. "He usually
does, but they been washed ain't they."

"I would fuckin' hope so!" Terry giggled. "We ain't never talked about sex
nor any of that stuff have we?"

"No." Clive shook his head. "Should we?"

"Yeah, why not? We're in this poxy for three days and I can't go without a
wank that long! Terry grinned, "So, d'you wank then?"

"Uumm.." Clive looked at the floor, hoping neither his red face nor his
erection could be seen.

"Well I do, just bloody said so didn't I!" Terry flushed and pushed the
conversation on. "You must do, come on, tell us how often?"

"Yer, I `spose I do."

"How often then?"

"Dunno..." Clive was really embarrassed at admitting to these very personal
details. Neither was it helped by the fact he had overheard other
classmates discussing Art's positively insatiable habit of several times a
day.

"Look," Terry was determined to find out, as his very modest and skinny
erection pressing on the fly of his Aertex briefs confirmed, "I does it
when I wakes up and when I goes to sleep."

"Wot, you!" Clive was staggered. "That's, twice a day!"

"Don't you then?" Terry blushed at the admission. "Thought everybody did,
well at least once a day."

"But you don't seem to touch it or get hard during the day or nothing."

Clive was staggered having just let slip the secret that he had been
watching Terry, something which he hadn't even wanted to admit to himself!

"You been watching me then?" Terry half grinned, flattered that Clive had
taken that much interest in him.

Bright red, Clive closed his eyes. "I'm sorry, but yes. I've tried not
to. Honest."

"D'you wanna see me willy then?" replied Terry very excitedly in the heat
of the moment. "You got me all hard."

"Wot now!" Clive was taken aback never having thought Terry could be so
sexually forward.

"Here," without waiting for an answer Terry began frantically pulling at
his jeans, "look!"

The one eyed head of Terry's circumcised boyhood poked through the pee
stained folds of the flimsy Aertex mesh as the jeans were parted.

"Shit!" breathed Clive, his heart rate rapidly escalating.

"Get yours out then, let's have a look!"

Carried by Terry's enthusiasm it seemed unreal for Clive to find himself
struggling to unzip his jeans and put his erection on show for the first
time ever.

"Cor, looks a bit bigger thicker don't it?" Terry was bent over, only
inches from the open zip watching as Clive attempted to extricate his cock
from the fly of what Terry assumed to be a pair Y-fronts.

"Never mind using the bloody fly, just pull yer pants down below yer balls
and lets have a proper look." said Terry excitedly, now rubbing the head of
his cock between thumb and forefinger. "I fancy a wank now, you gonna have
one with me?"

"Uumm.. Now?"

The speed of Terry's advances had rather floored Clive, he looked about
helplessly knowing he desperately wanted to do it, but was hampered by his
inhibitions.

"Look, just lift yer bum off the bed and we'll pull yer jeans down just
enough to show yer pants and wank, so if somebody comes in they won't see
too much!"

Clive just looked in amazement as Terry did just that. The matching Aertex
vest and briefs were most definitely on display and having pulled his cock
free was already firmly rubbing the length of it.

"Come on Clive, you got me all fuckin' excited, so be quick and pull 'em
down before I cums!"

Terry grinned encouragingly. Clive knew had no option. Although not only
did he have no option, he had a very strong desire to do as he had been
told. Lifting himself off the airbed he tore at his jeans and in his
excited state actually pulled them down to his knees exposing some
voluminous white Y-fronts. His cock, partly concealed within the excesses
of the white ribbed cotton wasn't much longer than Terry's, but was
noticeably thicker.

It didn't take Terry very long at all, spurred on by the unusual
circumstances with a heartfelt groan he was the first to ejaculate with
thin jets of spunk shooting high in the air and landing back on his
vest. Clive, typically not having ejaculated since the previous day found
himself so aroused at the sight of Terry finally lost all self control.
Pawing roughly at his erection he managed to cum a minute later and cum he
did, producing several large blobs of thick creamy white spunk which freely
adhered to his hand, pubic hairs and briefs.

For several moments they just looked at each other and the mess they had
got themselves into, then Terry slowly started giggle. Clive quickly
followed suit, his life had suddenly taken a new direction.

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Chap 136 to follow