Date: Mon, 20 Apr 2009 04:17:32 -0700 (PDT)
From: Ami <amias05@yahoo.com>
Subject: Brief encounters  Chap 20

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: amias05@yahoo.com



Quick message.... I was going to say something here except I have forgotten
what it was!!!  So instead I will just say if only all fathers were as nice
as Art's!



Chapter 20 -- Saturday


Saturday morning about ten thirty.

"Morning love, late up as usual. I can tell it's Saturday!"

"Oh, yes, I'm always up on a Saturday morning." said Martin smiling at his
own little joke.  Today he felt really happy, the events of previous day
had broken his solo sex routine for ever.

"Did you sleep well and have some nice dreams?" asked his mother peering at
the buttons on the washing machine.

"Oh yes! I had some lovely dreams." he replied the staring out the kitchen
window, almostt moving almost in slow motion. One hand on the cereal packet
and the other stroking his half erect cock through the pocket of his jeans,
the helmet was still tingling deliciously. Even if the whole thing was
still feeling a tiny bit sore.

In fact, it was no surprise that he had been dreaming all night about what
had happened to him in the school toilet the previous day. Having gone to
bed and virtually wanked himself to sleep, he was woken at about two in the
morning by the same raging erection which was demanding further attention
before allowing to return to sleep. Then, he had woken at about nine that
morning and had managed to cum twice in relatively quick succession before
dozing off again! The old vest he kept hidden as cum rug under the bed was
well and truly soaked with cum.

"I see you put your school stuff in the washing machine last night, that
was very helpful of you."

"Yes, ummm I thought I'd help you out a bit and save you getting it." He
breathed a sigh of relief that his mother had obviously not seen the state
of his school uniform.

"Oh, by the way your father had to go into the office this morning," she
said, "he should be back in an hour or so."

"Oh. Right."

That signalled a definite change in his voice, he stared into the half
finished bowl of corn flakes and prodded them with his spoon.

"Mum, he's not my father. My father's dead. He's Frank."

"Oh Martin, please don't start that again. You know he likes you."

"He's got a funny way of showing it then, he don't like me, he always picks
on me when you're not here. And, he's not my father!"

"Martin, please, we've been through all this before. Don't start, please."
She looked at him. Hopefully he might grow out of this one day, although to
be fair she had to admit that Frank was not quite the man she had
married. He had since developed a short temper and was becoming very
demanding sexually.

"I'm sorry Mum, but you've never see it. He just won't do it in front of
you."

"Martin, that's enough, it's too early."

"I'm sorry, Mum but I can't help the way I feel!"

She sighed, time to move on. Yet again.

"Why don't you ask him?"

This subject had arisen, before and before. Maybe there was something in
what Martin was saying, but Frank was always so nice to her. She just
couldn't believe he would be nasty to her only son.

"Well I might do that one day."

"Please, but sooner than later."

"Now, Martin enough of that. Have you finished that cereal yet?"

"Nearly, why?" he asked looking up.

"Well, you can give me hand to put the washing out!" she said smiling,
"Like when you were little! You remember, you used to hide in the clothes
basket?"

He looked up from his breakfast, caught her eye and smiled.

"Yes, I do." He didn't say it, but that was before Frank was around. Those
were very happy times.

They both knew they would never agree on Franks attitude, best leave it
where it was.

"Yes, OK in a minute, I'll just finish this and see you in the garden."

It was too nice a day to dwell on the subject of the evil Frank, so he
retreated back to dreamland. The question was, when would he be seeing his
new found friends again and just what would they be getting up to. They
were undoubtedly a randy pair of boys, Nigel seemed the brighter than Art
and appeared really genuine to the extent that Martin was beginning to
think he could even unburden some of the truth about his stepfather to
them. Being an only child he just knew at some stage he was going to have
to talk to somebody.

His thoughts were interrupted by his mother, calling from the rear door,
"Come on, stop day dreaming and give me hand."

"Yes, Mum." No peace for the wicked.

It was literally luck of the draw, but Martin seemed to end up having to
hang out all the family's underwear and for some inexplicable reason got
rather embarrassed by hanging out his own briefs, or at least the pair lent
by Nigel! He also quickly cast an eye over his school trousers, it looked
as if all the cum stains had washed out which was a big plus, but was the
zip still stuck?

Staring at his stepfathers voluminous Y-fronts dripping on the lawn he
wondered if he could somehow make them explosive and blow his balls off or
better still vaporize him completely!

At first he grinned at the thought. That was soon overshadowed by the
reality of what a two faced bastard Frank had turned out to be. If only his
mother could see it.

Martin's real father had been tragically killed in a car accident when he
was about five and his mother had married Frank about five years later
on. The question which Martin constantly posed to himself was whatever did
she see in him? Whatever it was, she certainly had not seen thorough the
veneer that Frank used to disguise his love of enforcing discipline
whenever she was not around.

The temptation of having control over a young teenager had become too
much. As ever the abused had become the abuser.

Decidedly authoritarian, Frank's favourite form of punishment had been to
give Martin a good spanking over his knee, usually after lowering Martin's
trousers himself. When younger, Martin accepted that part of the painful
ritual as par for the course, but now being older, shy and mindful of his
libido he had become very aware of the frightening sexual
overtones. Knowing little enough about sex anyway, other than what he had
discovered for himself, he had absolutely no idea of the devious ways a
determined adult could obtain sexual gratification.

Obviously, there was a lot more to it than just a punishment and Martin was
faced with one insuperable problem which he couldn't quite solve. Why was
it that he would get an incredible feeling of sexual arousal when forcibly
bent over Frank's knee to endure those first few slaps. It was only those
few taps though as after that Frank would start to lay into Martins
buttocks to reach the level of sheer pain that he so loved to inflict.

Even Frank had realised that Martin was now too old for that, so instead
had taken to hitting him where a few bruises wouldn't be too
noticeable. Any such altercation would depend on a flimsy excuse when
Martin's mother was safely out of the way.  Suitably cowed, until Martin
were to find the courage to rebel that situation was to continue with him
being invariably threatened with another beating if he were to dare tell
his mother.

It was no wonder he hated Frank.


Saturday, early afternoon and not that many streets away.

Ted Weldon was sat at the kitchen table, "So what are you two doing this
afternoon?"

"Messin' about, I `spose! Boring!" replied Art in his usual enthusiastic
fashion, "Nothin' really, I was gonna go and see Nige tomorrow afternoon."

"No change there then," said his father smiling, "well I might have a
little job for you!"

 "Grrr... you would!"

"And, Simon what are you going to do?"

"Well, I'm gonna go and have a sort of kick about football game with Tim
and Alan from down the road at the park. I might cycle over and see Tom
from school or I might go tomorrow morning, depends on me energy. Y'know he
was all ill on Friday and had to go home?"

"Oh, anything bad? Is it catching?" inquired his father.

"No. I reckon, it was something that he shouldn't have eaten." said Simon
pulling a face at the very thought of swallowing Bates' emissions.

"Well, your mother has gone shopping, as women do," he said grinning, "I
have little job to do on the car and then I thought that you and I, that's
you Art, yes you! You could come with me and we'll go and get the paint and
stuff for the front of the house."

"Me!" he said looking up making a face, "Oh dad!"

"Well you're not doing anything else are you? You said so!" he replied,
"Anyway you look as though you could do with a break from your bedroom, I
don't know what you do up there all day! We'll go in about half an hour
when I've done the car. Right?"

"Yer, all right then." Art grinned, "I'll go finish me homework and come
down in half an hour then, have I got that right?"

"You! Homework on a Saturday! What's gone wrong?"

"Wrong, me! Nothin'!" he said laughing and scuttling out of kitchen to head
up the stairs.

Simon stood up, "Right dad, I'm off to the park then. I'll leave you a note
if I goes over to Tom's and you're not back, is that right?"

"Yes, that's the system. Now, I'm going to do the car."

Meanwhile upstairs, Art had a very important job to do before he could even
look at his outstanding homework. He was peeping out of the landing window
waiting for Simon to leave, a minute later the front gate slammed and he
was watching the outline of Simon's briefs though the thin material of his
white football shorts as he sauntered off down the road to find his
friends. What was it about white football shorts that was so erotic, even
if it was his own brother wearing them! Squeezing his hardening cock he
pushed the door and went into Simon's bedroom, he just had to search it to
see if it was Simon who had stolen his clothes.

For Art, matters of the underwear variety had now escalated to beyond
crisis point. Other than the one utterly foul pair of briefs with the hole
in the ass which he kept hidden in the wardrobe he had nothing to wear! It
might have been a great feeling walking about with nothing on under his
jeans but he was scared stiff that his mother would soon be on the prowl to
carry out her threat to smarten him up and collect the dirty washing! And,
if he was to be honest with himself, it was now becoming quite clear that
without any underpants his one decent pair of school trousers were
absorbing all manner of substances from his lax personal hygiene and
effectively had become a very dirty pair of adolescent underpants!

Simon's room was a palace compared to his. Everything was neatly put away
and even the floor was uncluttered, looking around he wondered where he
would have hidden the stuff. That was of course if Simon had taken it all
in the first place!  The wardrobe seemed as good a place as any to start
and he carefully looked through it, in the drawers, on the top and even
underneath it. No sign. The chest of drawers was next and short of taking
everything out he concluded there was nothing hidden there either. Well,
except that was until started to handle Simon's underwear when he did get
rather excited and thought as a very, very last resort he could maybe just
squeeze himself into an old pair of briefs!

The bed was next, there was nothing under the edge of the mattress or even
behind the headboard. It was impossible to resist checking the sheets to
see if Simon had started cumming yet, but as yet there was no sign of
anything remotely resembling a cum stain quite unlike his own spunk
impregnated sheets and mattress! Art found that the blue striped pyjamas
presented something of a problem in that he was very tempted to get his
cock out and wank over them then and there. How he loved sniffing other
boys clothes, the gym changing rooms were a delight if he was there on his
own. Now though, he had discovered yet another avenue of pleasure as drew
in the unique smells and stains from inside his brothers pyjama trousers.

Yet here he was, with a rock hard cock that was rubbing uncomfortably on
the rough seams inside his jeans still no further forward. Looking around
the room, other than a bookcase stuffed with old toys and books, a small
table and chair that Simon used for his homework there was no other place
he could think of looking.

He retreated to his own room and sat on the unmade smelly bed and was soon
deep in thought. He didn't have to think too long as by a process of very
simple deduction he concluded that if it wasn't Simon who had taken them,
then it must have been either his mother or his father. But which.

His mother, what a dreadful thought! Positively horrified at the prospect
of her finding his the entire collection of cum stained underpants he sat
there wondering if he could ever face her again. Eventually, unable to
contemplate his mother in the scenario any longer he talked himself into
believing that it must have been his father who had taken them. At least
that would save a certain amount of embarrassment as after all his father
was man and must have been a boy at some stage in his life! Eventually, by
a process of very advanced lateral thinking Art reasoned if his father had
indeed been a boy once, then he had in all probability must have had at
least one wank, so he might just understand Art's problem!

He didn't know it, but his ridiculous theory was about to be put to the
test!

"Art, you ready?" it was father calling up the stairs, "I've done the car,
it didn't take fifteen minutes."

"I'm coming dad!" he replied. If only he could, his cock was still hard!

Ted enjoyed being out with Art on his own. Together they would often spark
each other off and have an extremely funny time, but it was also a chance
to find out what was happening in Art's life and at school. Ted was not a
strict disciplinarian as such and had always managed to get the best out
the boys by logically talking them through problems, be they school or
personal. Today's subject might prove to be a little tricky for both of
them.

Art jumped the last two stairs and landed with a crash.

"Here go easy, don't wreck the place!" said Ted, "So, what's all homework
then Art... you're not exactly known for it are you? Problem?"

"I dunno," said Art, studiously avoiding eye contact, "I gotta keep it up
at the minute..."

"Now, have you been bollocked again?" Ted asked, "Come on, truth please!"

Art looked sideways and nodded, "Yer I have. You mad?"

"Well, I'm not jumping for joy am I, which subject was it this time?"

"Biology... and ummm.."

"And... what else?" he gave him a stern look, "Come on, I know you?"

"You gonna go mad?" asked Art looking up, "Because it's history as well."

"Mad, not quite yet, no! But aren't you giving up biology anyway?" he
looked over at Art. There was no disguising his hand deep in his jeans
pocket playing with his cock as usual.

What a boy. He looked a mess, acted like an idiot, had a good brain and a
heart of gold.

"Yer, I'm giving it up," he looked at his father, "but that Mrs Whatnot,
she gave me big bollocking. Right in front the class. I said I'd do her
some drawing to make up."

"Biology I don't mind, but history I do. How do you get away with it?"

Art was looking at the floor, obviously waiting to gauge his reaction.

"You know some fathers would give you hell, but we've tried that and found
we can get more out of you without that. Can't we? So what about the
history?"

"Ah, well I do like history, it's just that I got a bit behind..."

"How behind?" he wagged a finger, "I want the truth, Art."

Art carried on looking at the floor. "Errrr, like half a big project
behind!"

"Art, oh you little bugger! That's naughty. When was mean to have been
finished by?"

"Middle of the week or... ummm.."

"Or what?"

"Detention and a lot of extra work." he replied looking up out of the
corner of his eye.

"So you'd agree that you are going to have to work on it tomorrow morning
to catch up then." Ted just looked and wagged his finger again.

"No messing, is that understood?"

How was it his father could make him feel so very guilty with so few words?
Maybe it was the look? It happened every time and he never knew why,
invariably though it would make him put in the effort to make a fairly
decent job of it.

"Yer.. that all?"

"Yes! Come on in the car, let's go."

"Dad... I'm sorry..."

"Trouble is Art, you are always sorry!" Ted looked over at him fiddling
with the safety belt, "In fact you're a bloody disaster at times!"

"I know, I can't help it dad," he said, "it just sort of happens."

"Don't we just! You know I'm trusting you to do this work and I'll say no
more. Woe betide you if you don't make a decent job of it. I'll set mum on
you and you know what that means!"

"I'll do it, I'll do it!"

"You will, believe me!"

Art nodded and grinned.

Then totally out of character reached over and touched his father on his
shoulder, "I love you dad. You know, you don't lose it with me or nothin',
d'you know some kids at school would get belted for what you let me get
away with."

"Art, ummm well thank you." Ted replied rather amazed, "I love you
too... maybe we don't say that often enough. Do you think we do?"

This was so very unusual, neither were normally very emotionally expressive
with each other at all. Simon would occasionally hug his father but never
Art.

"No. We don't." Art swallowed hard, "I'm not very good at things like this
am I?"

"Art, you are what you are." Ted glanced over, "But I don't suppose I'm
much better really!"

"I dunno. I'm sorry about the school dad, promise I'll work tomorrow
morning. I will."

Silent thought took over and some half a mile further down the road his
father spoke, he seemed rather hesitant.

"Art, look while we are being honest, something I've been meaning to talk
to you about... and.."

"Wot?" Art sensed knew what was coming, how could he face it.

"I have to be honest and say it's a bit embarrassing, even for me!"

He paused, Art was staring out of the car window, "Art, this could be a
good time as I think we both are saying things we don't normally, do we?"

"No, I mean yer... oh I think I get it, go on."

"Well.."

Art panicked and cut in without even waiting to hear what was going to be
said, "Please stop saying, well! What is it dad, is it serious? You know
don't you?"

"Know what?"

"Nothin' ! Sorry, go on!"

Art was obviously getting quite edgy. Was he trying to hide something?

"Nothing! How many times have I heard that!" Ted said smiling, "Now listen
Art, your mother doesn't know I am going to talk to you about this. I'm
doing it try and help you. Got it?"

"Yer. OK."

"We both know that she's is pretty fed up with the way you have been
behaving and looking lately, don't we?"

"Yer, I `spose. I said it just sort of all happens to me!"

"Obviously! That's an understatement!" he smiled and took a breath, "Let's
face it, lately you have looked a total bloody mess going to school,
haven't you?"

"Ummm, sort of maybe! Am I that bad?"

"There's no sort of! You are bad! Now, your mother is getting really angry
about it which means she has now started going on to me about you!"

"Oh no! She's close to exploding then!"

"Right! We know the signs don't we?"

Art nodded.

"Look, I'm telling you if you can get yourself together over the next
couple of days you might just do it. Otherwise she's going go into orbit
and nobody in this house needs that, least of all me!"

"Oh dad? Is she really that mad?" asked Art sounding desperately worried,
"Oh god, she nearly killed me the other morning!"

"Yes! She told me about that and Simon did later as well." he looked over
at him again, "She hates the way you look going to school, because she says
it reflects on her as a mother.  But, on the other hand she knows that she
did agree to let you try look after yourself. Be honest Art, you've tried
it and it just hasn't worked has it?"

"No. I know." Art was petrified at the thought what his mother might do,
having seen her in action the other morning. "Dad, what would she do... how
long have I got?"

"End of the week, well I know that's what she was saying earlier. Then she
was go to threaten to sort through all your clothes, the room and
everything to clean it like it had never been cleaned before."

"Oh no. Dad, help me. Please!" Art went silent and stared out the window
again.

How he could get away with it, just about all his clothes needed washing,
then there were hidden sexual accessories and stolen underwear that he
shared with Nigel.

"Art." his fathers voice brought him back to reality.

"Dad, please don't let her do it, she'll kill me when she sees me clothes,
I know it." he sounded very strained.

"Is it that bad?" then knowingly, "Why? What are you afraid she'll find, is
it something ummm, hidden..."

"Wot d'you mean dad?"

"I think we both know don't we?" Ted answered looking at him
quizzically. "I was your age once!"

Art went bright red, the game was up or at least coming to a close.

"Art, now remember I said earlier that even I might find this
embarrassing?"

"Yer. I think I know why." Art looked at him, convinced it was his father
that had taken his underpants.

"I'm going to tell you what made me start this conversation and then you
may realise why your mother has become so angry."

His heart thumping Art sat there and just nodded.

"When you came from home from school yesterday you appeared to be helping
by putting all your school stuff in the washing machine, didn't you?"

Art nodded. It was then that he felt that familiar cold clammy hand
gripping him yet again. It was the realization that his father knew about
the trousers that he worn without any underpants which had absorbed just
about every drop of cum in his body.

"Well, you were actually hiding things weren't you?" his father continued,
not entirely sure how to phrase matters, "You see Mum wanted to get
something out of the wash she had put in by mistake and..."

Art screwed his eyes and curled into a ball, he didn't want to hear this.

"Art, you have to believe this is difficult for me as well." he tapped him
on the leg, "I'm going to pull over and we can finish this properly.

Art just sat there dreading what was coming next, his father pulled into
the kerb and turned the engine off.

"Look at me Art. I'm your father and you know we don't have secrets." he
prodded him gently in the ribs, Art opened one eye.

"You trust me?"

"Mmmmh yes, course I do, dad."

"Well this is all part of growing up I suppose. We'll get through it
together and I won't be nasty or make fun. I'm sure we'll both get
embarrassed, but we have to get you sorted out... or it's going to be mum
that does it."

"You please, dad." his voice was croaky.

"Right, so she just happens to glance at those trousers..."

Art was now purple, "Oh dad... no..."

"Oh yes! She knew right away! Damn it Art, she's married and knows what
spunk stains look like!"

"Oh no..."

"Yes, then she got curious and pulled out the rest of the wash and I can't
tell how upset she was to find her darling eldest son had deposited more
spunk over those clothes than she though ever existed!"

Art cringed in the seat, how could he ever live this down.

"So then she showed them to me! And, even I began to wonder at how you
could possibly manage it!"

Art didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He lifted his head and finally
looked at his father tears in his eyes. "What can I do dad?"

"Apologize maybe? But do you know, what really upset her?"

Ted felt sorry for Art he was looking close to tears and was crimson with
shame.

"It's the way you mistreat you clothes and uniform all the time, we that
have to work and save to pay for it. She realizes you are growing and has
good idea of what boys do but, what with the mess in your bedroom and
everything else she's going to blow her top."

"I didn't think, oh dad. Please help me.."

"Plus... she is now worried that if you are this sexually active and
spaying spunk around like fire hose then what else are you getting up to at
school?" Ted added the punchline, "Because it was obviously at school where
the trousers got impregnated, wasn't it?"

No reply. Art was just huddled up on the seat, hiding his scarlet face in
his hands.

"Art, I'm sorry to put it so bluntly but I'm worried as well now. Just what
are you doing at school? How do you end up with your clothes getting like
this?"

Art had now started to cry, but it all had to be said. The emotional upsets
of the previous few days certainly hadn't helped.

"Hear me out. I'm sorry but I have to finish this. Mum then started going
to me that she has not seen you put any underwear out to be washed for
days... she's got the bit between her teeth!"

"Oh, oh... fuu... no!"

"And, we have another big worry... girls!"

"Girls!" recoiled Art almost in horror, he looked up tears running down his
face.

"Yes, we both want to know this. You are obviously so very sexually active,
so please tell me if you are messing about with girls? The last thing we
want is for you to get some girl pregnant!"

"But I don't like girls!" Art replied almost instantly.

"Oh, you mean you have not... uumm ... or ...ummm!" Ted left the question
unfinished. This was getting tricky, surely Art didn't mean he was gay.

More tears ran down his face. His secret world was rapidly
unraveling. Worse, did his father know about his fascination with other
boys and their underwear?

"Dad, I mean... oh I mean I have not uumm discovered them sexually yet," he
sniffed and wiped the tears with the back of his hand, "Oh dad, I'm all
mixed up!"

"Hmmm, sounds like it. Please Art, will you let me help you try get you
sorted out a bit?" He put his hand on the boys shoulder.

Art nodded.

It was time to get down to business, "Now, lets be quite honest at fifteen
you are probably approaching ummm, your most ummm sexually productive
time..."

"You mean, I wank all the time?" Art suddenly volunteered in very resigned
voice, not really caring any longer.

Ted looked amazed at his honesty.

Anyway it certainly wasn't a secret now the evidence was everywhere! He
sniffed and then the tears started again as he blurted out.

"I can't help it dad, I've tried but I can't stop doing it. I can't stop
wanking. I can't stop. I worry about it!"

Ted moved his arm he gave him a big hug, Art turned to look him in the face
the tears still running his cheeks he said, "I can't stop dad, I've tried
and tried! I feel so guilty but I can't stop."

"You're a great kid, how many others would admit that to their dads? You'll
never stop doing it, you just have to learn a little self control." Ted
smiled, "Now you've admitted it, it makes our little problem a lot easier
doesn't it?

Nodding, with a very weak smile Art said, "Yer, well you've seen the
evidence all over them trousers, I can't deny it can I!"

Pulling his arm tighter round his shoulder he said "D'you know Art, just
between you and me, when I was your age, well uummm, I was a bit like you!"

Art was amazed that his own dad should ever admit to that, "Dad, you
mean... you... wanked! Wot... you doing it all the time like me! No!"

His father was embarrassed but he nodded, "Yes, all the time! I'm telling
you that so that you shouldn't ever be afraid of owning up to yourself and
your feelings. I was a randy little..."

"Wanker!" said Art his eyes wide open, tears on his cheeks! He couldn't
believe it was his own father telling him this.

"Yes! But I didn't ruin my entire wardrobe and have my mother threatening
to kill me, did I? Or the..."

"Or what?" Art grinned through his tears, "Wot dad?"

"Well," he said giving Art another big hug, "I was a lot more careful about
letting my bed springs squeak every night and every morning! Just try and
do it a bit quieter!"

"Oh god! How long have you known? Dad?" tear stained and still red in the
face, Art asked anxiously, "Dad! Has, has mum noticed?"

"Since you started about two years ago! And, no she just thinks you are
restless!"

He jaw dropped and his face went from red to purple. "Oh no! You've been
listening to me for two years... oh no!"

"Son, it's all part of growing up." Ted grinned, "In fact you might say
some parts are harder than others."

"Like my cock?" said Art started giggling.

Ted laughed, "Yes. Now, how are we going to get you sorted out with your
mother?"

"Oh, dad you'll help me won't you? Please. You'll have to keep nagging me
to get it done."

"OK."

Art was returning to normal, "I'm gonna be busy aren't I?"

"I hope you are. Why not try and make a start this afternoon. Mum needn't
know we have had this chat."

"Dad, I don't know if I can look her in the face after she has seen those
trousers. Could you have a sort of word or something."

"I'll try. She knows you do it, it's part of being a boy."

"I know, but!" Art looked at him again, "Can I ask one more thing dad, it's
a bit rude and it's a bit about growin' up."

"Don't see why not, we've got this far."

"Is it, ummm I mean.. like ummm.. how long do go on sort of ummm wanking
for dad.."

"What for five minutes or something you mean!" He laughed, "Say it, we've
no secrets now, what do you really mean?"

"Ummm like when do you stop uumm you know... ummm wanking... like say when
you are like twenty something or when you get married? Or wot? See what I
mean?"

"Ah yes, I do." He nodded and smiled, "The practical facts of life eh? The
simple answer is you never stop!"

Arts face lit up, this was obviously good news!

"Art, once you've started, you'll never really stop. You won't do it as
often when you are older, but you will probably carry on till you are quite
old, like say even seventy!"

"Yuk! That's old, dad." he pulled a face, "Sort of granddad job, yuk!"

"We all get old in the end." he smiled, "But even when you get married, I
think most men still like to do it. Does that make sense, does it help
you?"

"Wow! So.. you mean you... you still do it like? Even though you have mum
and all that sex stuff?" Art asked incredulously.

"You don't miss much do you!" Ted went rather red himself, "Yes! Hows that
for honesty? It's tricky to put into words but there is nothing like doing
yourself!"

Art leaned over hugged him. "Dad. So I'm sort of normal then?"

"Sort of, haha. Yes. You're pulling it a bit much! I think you're just a
typically randy, boy!" Ted grinned and started the engine, "Like father,
like son eh? Shall we go?"

"Hey dad. D'you reckon many boys have this sort of honest chat with their
dads, it's been amazing."

"No. I don't, mores the pity." He glanced over, Art who looked as though he
was still somewhat emotional, nevertheless he looked an awful happier than
he had for the last couple of weeks.

"Don't you ever talk about this stuff with your mates at school?"

"No, never. Only with Nige, he don't know much either, but we know each
other ummm... you know, does it!" Then shook his head. "Nobody else I don't
think."

"I see."

"Dad, nobody talks about doing it, but we know we all do it. We just sort
of clam up if it gets mentioned, other than as a sort of joke. Me and Nige,
we know lots of kids are told by their mum's and dad's it's a dirty thing
to do."

"Really." Ted was rather shocked that these attitudes still prevailed. His
own parents had been much the same but having found a good friend when in
his late teens who very openly talked about it, he now had few hang ups
about this or other emotional subjects.

"Art, when you are a bit older you might see how very lucky you were to
have me, because other parents I know won't go anywhere near this
subject. It's taboo, off limits, verboten and they won't even talk about it
as adults. Their poor kids just have to muddle through, right or
wrong. D'you understand what I'm trying to say."

"Yes, I think so." Art poked him in the ribs and smiled. "Dad, I love you!
You're the best dad ever! I'm gonna start tidying up as soon as we get
back!"

"Then why don't you ask Mum to come and have a look when you have made an
impression on it?"

"Yer, that's a good idea."

"Yer!" said Ted raising his eyebrows in despair, didn't they teach grammar
these days!

"Dad, can I tell Nige about our chat?"

"Hmmm... maybe not? I mean it's our secret isn't it really?" he replied
after some thought, "But there's no reason that you couldn't tell him we
have had a chat about getting you sorted with your mother is there?"

"Yer, you're right. Maybe I won't even tell him that, `cause it's our
secret isn't it? Right?"

"Yer, right!" said Ted smiling to himself.



Yes and there is Chap 21 to follow ;-)