Date: Tue, 17 Jul 2012 23:32:42 +0100
From: tom <amias09@fastmail.fm>
Subject: Brief Encounters Chap 99

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tom email: amias09@fastmail.fm

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

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

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


Chapter 99 – What else, but change hands!


From the time of having afternoon tea and on throughout the evening Tom had
continued to wear Simon's underpants which naturally induced a near
constant erection. That, added to the merest hint of the distinctive aroma
emanating from his underwear and his inability to keep a hand out of his
pocket whilst watching the evening television equated to one
thing. Masturbation. Tom though, didn't think his father had noticed
anything and was already dreaming how he was going to masturbate again and
of course, then sleep in the underpants. Quite what the actual turn on was
he didn't know, whatever by the time he went to bed he was very aroused and
started rubbing himself even before his shorts had fallen to the
floor. Thinking about what the coming Sunday afternoon were to bring he
ejaculated once more into the stained cotton and feeling quite exhausted
after the days exciting events hauled himself into bed to instantly fall
asleep face down, his cock nestling in the slimy emission.

It wasn't that Alan was interested in Tom's masturbation habits per se, but
that his interest was very definitely in a paternal sense. Having got over
his embarrassment of admitting to Tom that as a boy he also did such things
and how confusing he found it all, the bonding between them was far
stronger and should Tom want advice he would always help.

Sunday dawned and could mean only one thing. Tom would doubtless be joined
in his efforts by probably the majority of schoolboys from all over England
as he felt himself through his starched pyjamas prior to setting about
enjoying the traditional Sunday morning lie in and wank.

Typically that would include extensive penile and possible anal
exploration, together with as many fantasies, handy inanimate objects,
underwear stolen or otherwise, lubricant and vegetables that were deemed
necessary to enhance ejaculation. In fact, simply whatever the devious
testosterone driven schoolboy mind could think up to heighten the ritual of
starching the striped pyjamas and sheets at least once or hopefully twice
before leaving the safety of the bedroom.

By the time he awoke in the morning the smell deep beneath the bed clothes
was pretty unmistakable and destined to be enriched by further fresh
deposits. A glance at the alarm clock showed it to be just gone nine,
meaning there was more than ample time for a little fun before having to
show himself downstairs. Pushing his head beneath the sheets and breathing
in the fetid smell he grinned to himself and undid the button on his red
striped pyjama trousers to feel the briefs beneath. With much of fondling
his swollen cock, he managed to kick the trousers off somewhere into the
depths of the bedclothes and push his hand deep inside the already damp
briefs to cup his balls.

Conjuring up incredibly erotic visions of being groped and prodded by all
and sundry during the coming afternoons excursion whilst wearing his old
white football shorts he decided to continue wearing the very same
underpants however unsocial the aroma might be. Quite sure that Simon
wouldn't mind and probably be as excited as he was, for the next ten
minutes Tom proceeded to work himself up into quite a sexual frenzy.

By now, the Woolworths briefs were certainly suffering the ravages of over
active young hands and weren't so much fitting as hanging around him with
distended leg openings and fly. Envisaging Alex entering him roughly from
behind, the briefs were soon pushed around his knees and two stubby fingers
took the place of Alex's virtual, if modest cock. Masturbating furiously as
the two fingers worked their magic on his prostate, the bedclothes soon
joined the jumble of discarded pyjamas towards the foot of the single divan
bed leaving him barely covered.

Unable to hold out he knew that as a first, three fingers it had to
be. Pulling his knees up and splaying his legs he forced them in his
waiting bumhole and groaned in delight as he simultaneously began to
ejaculate. Not that at twelve he could produce that much cum, but even so
this time he exceeded his own expectations by managing to shoot a watery
spurt into the air as his hairless ballsac emptied itself over his hand and
stomach.

Eyes closed he lay there breathing very deeply, simply revelling in the
delights of the post-ejaculation glow. Feeling the dribbles of cum sliding
down his stomach towards the bottom sheet he slowly released his grip on
his rather tender cock and stretched his slippery fingers to wipe them on
the sheet as well. To his mind it was without doubt the best Sunday morning
wank ever and he made his mind up to tell Alex all about it on their way to
the shed that afternoon. Three fingers had certainly filled him with joy!

The euphoria slowly passing he rather dreamily opened his eyes, cocked his
head to one side on the pillow and looked around the room, finally towards
the bedroom door. Wondering if it was his mother's voice from downstairs
that had stirred him he thought for a few moments and concluded nothing had
happened other than in all the excitement his mind was playing tricks on
him. The only slightly worrying aspect was had he actually closed the
bedroom door the night before? Maybe he had, but then he knew the latch
wasn't that good and the door had been known to open in a strong draught
anyway. Surely though, if his mother had been in then she would have said
something immediately on entering his room, the one thing about her was she
wasn't normally backward in coming forward in making her presence felt!
Besides which, it wasn't as though he was getting up any later than usual
for a Sunday morning anyway.

Hearing nothing further he dismissed it all as a figment of his over active
imagination and returned to more exciting thoughts of what the afternoon
could bring. Wrapping his arms around his head and arching his back he
reverted to a fantasy where he was entwined with Alex in a wonderfully
convoluted sexual embrace. Responding to the images his cock jerked with
each heart beat and slowly started peel itself away from the sticky pool of
spunk on his stomach. Finally it wavered in the air, a fine string of cum
bridging the reddened head back down to his stomach.

Standing proud without a foreskin to shield the delicate glands Tom
experienced a delicious tingly feeling as the cotton sheet was slowly drawn
up over it, the sheet then being allowed to fall and covering him from the
waist down. Although his body was no longer arched, but flat on the bed his
arms were still wrapped tightly around his head protecting him from the
world, a little wet spot had formed on the sheet above the eye of his
quivering organ.

"Tom," whispered Alan slowing sitting on the edge of the bed "please, say
something. Mum thought you were ill or something. But, I think you've just
been.."

"No.. no.." hissed Tom to himself through his teeth.

There was no visible response. Cocooned in the sleeves of his pyjama jacket
Tom was in utter despair. Mortified. To have been found on his bed covered
in spunk, wearing Simon's underpants by his mother was just too awful to
even contemplate and now to have his father cover him up was the ultimate
embarrassment.

In fact he now felt even worse than when he had so recently wet himself in
class.

"You know what mum's like and it's gone half eleven after all," a hand
rested on his shoulder, "she only came in to see if you were alright and
then.. well, sent me up."

The arms relaxed enough for and a muffled voice to croak. "No, no. No! It's
only just gone nine."

"Tom, your alarm has stopped," the bed creaked as shadow leant over him,
"I'll bet you forgot to wind it, here look at my watch."

"But.. but she's seen me now... and you, you've seen me... all.. ohh.."

"I know, it's why I've covered you up."

"Don't matter now, you've seen me! and seen me.. oohh no! No!"

Alan felt awful and really did understand what Tom was going through.

"Come on, sit up and we'll have a hug," Alan tried rather unsuccessfully to
gently untangle the arms, "please, look love, believe me. Mum isn't going
to say anything. Honestly. She feels really bad at going in your room
unannounced. She thought you'd got up, honestly. Please, look at me."

Eventually Tom relaxed and very slowly let his arms fall by his side. He
sniffed and looked though his watery eyes up at his father, who seeing the
expression on his face had some difficulty in controlling his own
emotions. Alan reached down and pulled him up, hugging him close nothing
was said for several seconds.

"You know, mum doesn't really understand boys and what they do," said Alan
quietly, "she won't say anything, I know that."

"But, but she's seen me and.. and.. now.. she knows about.." mumbled Tom
his arms now firmly around his fathers neck. "And, and now you know.."

"Listen, listen," Alan interrupted, "when I was about thirteen I was caught
doing it by my father!"

"Wot!" croaked Tom after a pause.

"Yes, I was."

 "By, by grandad?" Tom sounded incredulous. "No, yer making it up."

"No, honestly. I really do know how you feel." he squeezed him. "Now that's
not the sort of thing you'd admit to anybody is it?"

"No. I `spose not. Honest?" Tom's voice sounded a little more
vibrant. "Grandad? So wot did he say?"

"He said," Alan paused, the moment really was bringing back some memories,
"well, he said.."

"Wot? Dad wot?"

"I'll never forget it."

Taking what seemed to Tom like a very deep breath, with his voice sounding
quite emotional he concluded, "Well, he.. uumm said.. bloody hell son,
you've started young! Just keep it off the sheets `cause your mother's the
one that's got to wash 'em!"

They sat there on the edge bed with Tom slowly realising that he wasn't the
first and certainly not going to be the last to be caught in a very private
act. Alan wasn't entirely sure if at that point Tom had then started to
laugh or cry when he hugged him. All they knew was that they had become
closer than ever.


As the crow flew it wasn't a great distance from Tom's home to that of
Nigel's where, sadly in other ways the two households were poles apart.

At somewhere around five in the morning, Davey having subconsciously humped
his mattress most of the night during his sleep had woken up and decided it
was time Nigel honoured his earlier promise. Nursing his throbbing cock he
ventured onto the landing and checked it was quiet before continuing to tip
toe across into Nigel's room. The smell of adolescence was immediately
apparent and unsurprisingly emanating from the very untidy bed in the
corner. Carefully closing the door behind him he crept a little nearer and
surveyed the scene through the gloom. It looked from the tangle of sheets
and blankets there would be no problem in getting in beside him, Nigel's
pyjama clad bum looked half uncovered anyway and it would be easy enough to
pull a sheet back to cover them both up.

Moving a couple of steps closer he suddenly stopped and looked down, what
had he trodden on? Slowly growing accustomed to the dark he saw the floor
appeared to be strewn with a combination of discarded clothing and
schoolbooks, but whatever it was he had walked on was now stuck to the sole
of his foot! Balanced on one leg he looked down and to his surprise found
himself peeling off the page from a school exercise book, the blue ink from
the scrawled writing irrevocably smudged and now enhanced by his toe
prints!

Hiding the now illegible schoolwork seemed the best course of action and in
moving around he yet again stood on the offending wet object, cursing under
his breath he bent down to see exactly what it was. Of course, had he known
more of Nigel's sexual interests he would have immediately guessed! To his
amazement he found himself holding a disgusting pair of Y-fronts still
soggy with the sticky fruits of Nigel's bedtime discharge and now adorned
with the addition of a small blue, inky footprint.

Trying hard to stop giggling he dropped them on the floor and avoiding
other obstacles finally reached the bed. Nigel was deeply asleep and facing
the wall making it easy for him to gently lay down by his side and pull the
sheet up to cover them both.

Since Nigel's pyjama trousers were already exposing most of his bum Davey
hoped that Nigel's cock would be equally accessible and very carefully
reached over the sleeping body. He wasn't to be disappointed. Nigel's half
erect cock was poking though the unfastened trousers and he murmured
appreciatively in his sleep as Davey very gently touched it. Seeing Nigel
didn't wake he started to wrap his fingers around it and soon found it was
rapidly hardening causing Nigel almost as a reflex reaction to push back
onto Davey'd own erection.

Whatever else their father Jack may have been, the one thing he had endowed
both boys with was a more than generous cock. As had been remarked very
wittily by Art the previous day, it could be said if they were exhibiting
in the Bath and West agricultural show that each was definitely `Best in
Class'! With that in mind Davey decided to metaphorically grab the
opportunity with both hands and compare their given organs. Naturally, such
tentative examination gave way to gentle friction, followed by somewhat
more energetic examination in turned followed by outright dual
masturbation.

Understandably being over excited it was Davey who first shuddered to an
almighty dry climax to be followed seconds later by Nigel who rolled onto
his back and much to Davey's amazement produced an absolute deluge of
spunk. The world of wet dreams was as yet unknown to Davey who by now was
sure Nigel was going wake, but luckily he didn't and other than moaning
remained asleep. However, true to form and courtesy of Nigel's superior
power of ejaculation everything under the sheet including Davey, was now
covered in warm, slippery spunk.

With Davey over excited anyway and his hand positively dripping with warm
cum it left him no alternative other than to pretend he had just cum
himself and copying Art's earlier example used it as lubricant. Pulling his
own rather generous foreskin back he ladled as much of his brothers spunk
as he over his genitals and began again furiously masturbating, shortly
arriving at yet another dry climax.

The die had been irrevocably cast. In the space of barely twenty four hours
Davey had become just like his older brother, a compulsive masturbator. It
was only then, after a day he would never forget that a very, very
contented boy finally fell into a deep sleep.

Nigel was the first to wake or more precise, he had been woken by the sound
of raised voices from below. Shaking his head he very slowly came to, even
before opening his eyes his immediate reaction was to rub his hands over
himself and confirm that in his mind he had indeed had the proverbial wet
dream. And, judging by the amount of spunk that was around it could only
have been only two or three hours earlier that morning. Feeling very proud
of himself having not experienced such a delightful sensation since he was
about thirteen, he put it down to his dreams of the latent sexual play that
the afternoon had been promising.

There was however something else, something very worrying.

Sitting bolt upright he looked down to see Davey deeply asleep by his
side. The sheet having slipped down him disclosed the magnificent ten year
old erection sticking out from the pyjama trousers in the morning
light. Initially tempted to wake him up and send him packing, Nigel had
second thoughts after he noticed the shiny splodges of cum over the pyjama
jacket and then realised his ejaculation must have been at Davey's
instigation and not a real wet dream.

Smiling, Nigel lay back down, rubbing his sticky hands onto the
sheets. Thoughts of Davey getting him off in the middle of the night
without waking him up confirmed he was indeed a very promising young
wanker. Depending on the point of view, he was almost certainly destined to
be in the best or worst, company of himself and Art!

"Jack, no. You're not going out fishing again today are you? I thought
you'd.."

Nigel's train of thought was abruptly halted by the raised voices. Hearing
the strident tone of his mothers voice he knew it was going to be another
one of those Sunday's. He closed his eyes.

"Thought what? Why not. Kid's are old enough to look after themselves now."

There was pause followed by what sounded like of a bunch of keys being
dropped.

"Oh Jack, they're yours as well, or have you forgotten that?"

"How can I, with you always nagging on?"

"You can't you say that, you're their father!" Mary's voice was getting
louder.

"Ah, you'll be alright. Not as though I don't work to support you all, is
it? Never short of money or that are you? You get what you want, nice house
and all that."

Nigel's heart sank, he looked towards Davey. Innocent. He'd heard it all
before, he was going to cry and he knew it.

"But.. but Jack... what's happened to us? Please Jack, don't go.. please.."

"Be off then, see you about tea time." the keys jangled.

"Jack... please don't go.. please.."

"Why not? It's my weekend as well."

"Take us all out in the car this afternoon... like a family.. like we used
to.. we could go and visit something.. National Trust or.." her voice
trailed off it was a waste of breath and she knew it.

"Nah, they got their mates now."

"But Jack.. we're a family."

"Nah."

"Jack... but, they're at that age... they need you.. you're their
father. You never talk to them or anything now."

Jack looked at her blankly.

It was useless and she knew it, "For god's sake can't you see Nigel needs
you.. he's at that age.. I can't talk to him like you can.."

Nigel had his eyes tightly closed and was beginning to cry. Why, oh why
couldn't his father be normal like any other boy's, better still someone
understanding like Art's father.

"Well," Jack scooped up the keys, "best thing that Nigel ought to do is to
keep his hands out his pockets, dirty little bugger he is!"

"Oh god, you shouldn't say that!"

"Why, it's true. Way he's going he's going to get some girl in trouble."

"No Jack, that's not fair. He can't help growing up."

Mary turned, went in the kitchen closing the door behind her. As ever Jack
seeming impervious to her pleas, he slammed the front door in response.

To Nigel, having overheard similar conversations in the past it all seemed
familiar although this time it was clear his sexual activities were far
from unnoticed. Climbing carefully over Davey without managing to wake him
he gathered up the previous days clothes from the floor and adjourned to
the bathroom to try and make himself look vaguely presentable.

"Mum."

"Oh... Nigel... you're up early for a Sunday."

It was very much a forced smile, sat at the kitchen table staring out the
window she turned and had obviously been crying.

"Mum, I heard." Nigel's voice was cracking, noisily pulling up a chair he
sat down at the kitchen table.

"Oh god." she put her head in her hands, then suddenly looked up panic
stricken. "Where's Davey... I haven't seen him.. he's.. he's usually up
early."

Nigel who had never really been able to express his emotions was having
difficulty in keeping the tears back.

"He's, he's asleep in my bed." he mumbled, just before finally giving in to
his emotions and reaching out for his mother. To hug each other was
something that hadn't happened for some time.

"Why's he in your bed?" asked Mary after a long pause.

"Dunno. He musta come in during the night." Nigel drew back and wiped his
eyes with the back of his hand. "Wot's gonna happen mum?"

"I don't know." she stood up and headed for the kettle. "Dad's changed, in
the last three or four years. He's not the man he was."

"Uumm.." Nigel was out of his depth. What or not to ask without upsetting
her even more being part of the overall problem. "Does.. uumm.."

"Does what?" she turned and smiled as best she could. "Love, you might as
well say it, whatever it is. Somehow we've got to work through this."

"We?"

"Yes, we as a family. And, we can't hide it from Davey either can we? I'm
sure he's noticed anyway, has he said anything to you?"

"Not really, it's only lately we've been talking anyway." said Nigel doing
his best to avoid eye contact since he was admitting to another family
relationship problem. "Mum, you said three years, wouldn't that be about
the time dad got that new job then?"

"I suppose, but what would that have to do with it?" Mary looked puzzled.

"Dunno." he shrugged his shoulders, looking innocently around he tried to
peel his gooey foreskin from the head of his cock through his pocket.

"Nigel, d'you know what would really help me?"

"Wot with dad?"

"Apart from that."

"Nah, not really."

"I know you've just got up and you came to see if I was alright, but you
know you really do smell, a sort of boy smell!"

"Oh no!" he blushed.

"Why don't you have a bath now," she smiled, "have you got any clean
clothes left? I haven't really been keeping an eye on things what with
dad."

"Think so." he muttered, looking very embarrassed knowing there was little
left that hadn't already been wanked in or over.

"Then would you bring me all your dirty clothes and," she said with a
knowing look, "those pyjamas. Then I'll wash the lot."

"Mum, never mind me clothes, wot about dad?" asked Nigel. "You.. you, ain't
gonna split up or nothing?"

"Split up?" she put on a brave face. "Of course not, none of you could
survive without me."

"Honest, you sure?" Nigel couldn't contemplate life without both parents.

"Washing will take my mind off it." she said. "Anyway now it's out in the
open and it's no secret now is it? But, I need to think."

"Wot about telling Davey?"

"Please don't say anything, I'll have a little talk with him when the times
right."

"D'you think it'll be alright? With dad and that?" Nigel blinked, asking
the same question in a different form.

"I want it to be, does that help?"

"Sort of." Nigel took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes. "I do."

"Now listen, until I've talked to him there's nothing we can do."

"But he don't wanna talk, you've said that before."

"I know, that's a problem in itself."

"Oh." Nigel just looked, there wasn't really an answer to it.

"So let's get back to you and that Davey." Mary did her best to smile. "If
he's in your dirty bed he's going to need a bath as well isn't he?"

"Uumm.. well.." he looked at the table.

"And, I hope he's not starting to get some of your other habits yet, is
he?" she looked at him knowingly.

"Uumm.." continuing to look at the table Nigel didn't really answer, Davey
was certainly practising hard!

"Oh Nigel. No!" she looked at him in amazement, "No, surely he's not old
enough.. is he?"

"No, not that I know of." Nigel blushed heavily, confirming he knew exactly
what wasn't being mentioned and that he was privy to Davey's imminent
development.

"Thank heavens for that, just keeping up with your washing is bad enough!"

"Mum!" there was to be no let up in the blushing stakes.

"Sorry." Mary having seemed to have perked up somewhat walked over and
hugged him, embarrassing him even further. "Look after him for me, I love
you both. It'll be alright with dad, you wait and see."

"I hope so."

The hug lasted for nearly a minute.

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Chap 100, yes I can't believe it either... Chap 100 to follow.