Date: Thu, 13 Oct 2005 07:07:45 +0100
From: "David (Nifty)" <nifty@talesfromastream.co.uk>
Subject: Three Tears - Part 8

Three Tears

By David

www.talesfromastream.co.uk

Part Eight

Saturday morning, James woke to find Martin dressing in the clothes which
he had hung on the wardrobe door the previous night. Glancing at the clock,
he turned over to face the wall and went back to sleep. It was too early on
a Saturday to up and about and he thought it strange Martin was up this
early.

     The next time he had woken, the whole house was in full swing. His
mother was in the kitchen banging the cupboard doors in her usual loud
manner, his father was in the garden mowing the lawn, determined to get
this chore over and done with. Many a weekend he would try and bribe either
James or Martin to do this but most of the time they managed to squirm
their way out of it.

     Oddly enough, for a household of three young boys, they were the
quietest. Martin was out, he supposed, he was still in bed and Tony, who
was generally up earlier than him was silent. James supposed he was sat
transfixed in front of a television screen playing his computer games.

     With the muffled din that crept into his room, James found he could
not sleep, so in a fit of surrender he flung the quilt the from his body
and dragged his feet to the floor.

      Walking into the bathroom, he could still smell the humidity
remaining after Martin had showered and could see the condensation beading
on the mirrors.

     Saturday morning was not his usual time to shower, but as he was
meeting up with a new friend he felt he should at least make some
effort. He had got on well with Tom when they met during the orientation
day for the new programme and supposed it wouldn't really matter to him if
he smelled slightly musty or not. But he thought it best to make the
effort; besides, the noise from the shower drowned out the noise from
downstairs.

      As the warm water flowed down his body, he slowly began to awaken,
ready to face the challenge of going downstairs.


James had arranged to meet Tom in the town square at midday. If only to get
out of the house as soon as possible; James had grabbed a bowl of cereal,
gulped down a glass of orange and left. Come eleven o'clock he was
wandering round the town square, just waiting.

     After checking Tom wasn't waiting in the pre-arranged spot just in
case he too was ridiculously early, James went over to the nearest fast
food place and sat alone by the window drinking a coke.  Ensuring he got
his money's worth, he sat chomping the half melted ice cubes that clung to
the bottom of the carton.

     Shortly after half past eleven, as he gazed out of the window to avoid
the stares and look he was getting from a young child sitting in their push
chair being fed fries by his mother, he noticed Tom get off a bus and walk
over to the bench were they we due to meet.

     Realising he too was early, James bolted from his seat and walked,
faster than usual, to catch up with Tom.

     "Hiya, Tom." He called as he approached from behind. "You early too, I
see"

     Tom stopped and turned to see who had spoken to him. "Yeah, I was
getting badgered by my mum and just wanted to get out."

     "I know the feeling. That's why I was here half an hour ago."

     They both laughed at the desperation to be rid of their families.

     Tom explained he had virtually had his orders written down for him. He
was given a wallet full of cash and a list of all the new clothes he would
need when he was away filming. Despite pleading with his mother that what
he had was suitable, she haughtily exclaimed that no son of hers was going
to be seen in a major television programme wearing old clothes, only new
would do. The list was very specific and Tom knew too well it did not sit
well if he chose to interpret the list in his own manner.

     At least it gave them something to do, James thought. He had half
expected to spend the day just messing around, wandering from record store
to record store and pointing out everything he had in his collection and
everything he wanted.

     As they trudged round shop to shop getting the jeans, shirts and
t-shirts, they both felt like they were on a shopping trip with their
mothers. Although neither were present, the list ensured neither were far
from their minds. With only two items to get, the list was very specific on
one of them. "Ten pairs of multicoloured boys boxer shorts, medium from M &
S."

     Tom blushed as he placed the packets on the counter. The young
assistant scanned them and bagged them without looking at him. Only when he
handed over a couple of twenty pound notes did they look at each other, the
assistant smiled as he took the money and counted out the change.

     Virtually snatching the carrier bag as it was handed to him, Tom
rushed out of the shop. James followed in his wake.

      "I've never had to buy my own undies before." Tom confessed as they
dawdled along the street, knowing it was ridiculous feeling embarrassed by
it.

     "So what's next on the list?"

     "The last thing is 2 pairs of swimming trunks. As it's a desert island
I suppose we'll be going into the sea a lot and my old pair is getting a
little small now."

     They passed the miles and miles of racked trainers and gym equipment
as they walked through the sports hyperstore to get to the clothing. James
made a bee-line for a recent British Lions rugby top from their recent
tour.

     "You can get this five quid cheaper down the road; they're selling
this old stuff off cheap."

     Ignoring him, Tom picked up a pair of voluminous low legged swim
shorts in garish colours. "What do you think about these?"

      "They'll be good to use as a rescue beacon in case we can't get a
fire going." He quipped. "What sort you after?" He sidled over to Tom.

      Replacing the hideous eyesore he'd shown James, Tom picked up a pair
of black speedos. Ever since he was very young and had been taught to swim,
he had taken it seriously and often spent the occasional evening doing some
lengths in the local municipal pool. He never thought he was good enough to
try out for the county team and quite frankly didn't want to, but he did
train as a lifeguard and intended to try and get some work when he was in
college.

     In his mind, Tom had decided. A pair of speedos and some swim
shorts. He picked up the style of shorts he liked, a mid thigh length style
that was not too baggy. Flicking through the rails, he picked up an
assortment of colours and sizes and headed off to the changing rooms.

     James waited as Tom tried on his swimwear. Bored, his eyed wandered
around the store at the various shoppers buying their fitness equipment and
clothes which he knew might only be used and worn once or twice.

     He was looking over at the tennis equipment and saw the boom of
customers that Wimbledon fortnight had created that pawed the rackets and
lazily fondled the balls as if they knew how to tell if they were good or
not. Behind him, he heard Tom call out his name.

     "James come here and tell me what you think."

     His head was poking round the changing cubicle, beckoning for James to
come over. As he approached he opened the door so that James could slip
inside.

     The changing cubicle was plenty big enough for both boys to have
plenty of elbow room. James looked over at Tom, who had taken his shirt off
and stood bare-chested in his black speedos.

     "Very fetching." James laughed as he saw the waistband of Tom's boxer
shorts poking above the speedos and the legs poking out below. He looked
like some village idiot who couldn't dress himself.

     "I know," Tom smirked, "there's a big sign saying to try on the
swimwear and athletic supports over your underwear. But there's no way you
can check the fit and comfort like this."

     "Unless you want to spend those few weeks on the island looking like
that. You'll certainly get noticed."

     "Sod this." Tom said as he pulled down the speedos and placed them on
the seat on top of his shirt and trousers. James was just about to unlock
the door and leave when he saw Tom slip his boxer shorts off so that he
stood in just his white socks.

     James watched, uncomfortably, as he pulled the black speedos back on,
tucking his dick and balls neatly into place.

     "That's better. Now, what do you think?"

     "A vast improvement." James kept his eyes glued to Tom's crotch and
the bulge it made. Turning round, James took in the firm, round backside
Tom showed him for a few seconds.

     Twanging the elastic and grabbing his crotch, Tom said. "Nice and
snug. I think these'll do."

     "What about the colour?"

     "I always have black. It makes your bulge less noticeable."

     James pondered this sense of shyness as he thought it strange since he
had just exposed himself and stood stark bullock naked in front of him just
seconds ago.

     For the next few minutes, Tom tried on and finally chose a pair of
lime green swim shorts to accompany his speedos.

     With all the shopping done, they finally headed for something to
eat. It was late to be having lunch but Tom wanted to get it all out of the
way. They chatted as they ate burgers and stuffed fries in their mouths,
five or six at a time just to get some taste from them.


James was back home, slouching on the settee watching Tony play his
favourite computer on the television screen, when Martin turned up. Their
parents had just nipped out to the garden centre as their mother had a
notion that she wanted a couple of hanging baskets on the porch this
summer.

     "I'm back!" Martin shouted.

     "Where the bloody hell have you been all day, we've been worried
sick." James called out in his mock parental tone.

     "Ha, bleeding, ha." Martin responded as he began to climb the stairs.

     "They've gone out but they won't be long!" James shouted back.

     In his bedroom, Martin changed his clothes and back into his
comfortable cords and shirt. He changed his boxers as his little accident
had now dried and glued his boxers to his dick and balls.  Peeling them off
he felt guilty putting them in the dirty linen basket to be washed. He felt
that his first orgasm at the hands of another should be kept somehow. But
knew it to be weird, and perhaps a little obsessive, as if never expecting
it to happen again; wanting the proof to be around forever that it once had
done.

     Very little was said about the day's events. There were a few polite
enquiries of how everyone's day went over the dinner table, but neither
James nor Martin expanded beyond a dismissive fine. It was Tony who seemed
most excited about the day as he'd finally beaten his previous high score
on the computer. It was a moment he seemed to be very proud of and wanted
everyone to congratulate him.  His parents did say well done but as usual
qualified it by suggesting he get out more and perhaps he shouldn't spend
such a long time sitting so close to the television screen, his thumbs
twitching the controls.

     "You hear so much about repetitive strain injury these days..." Their
mother began but all three boys just cast their eyes downwards as they ate,
watching intently as the picked up each morsel on their fork, fully
intending not to hear a word she was about to say.

     James stacked the plates when they had all finished. Martin quickly
chimed up. "You wash, I'll dry."  To ensure he got the more pleasant of the
chores.

     As James stood, his hands immersed in hot soapy water, he finally
asked Martin about where he'd been.

     "Never saw you in town today. Thought I might. Mind you, you were gone
along time. What on earth did you find to do all day?"

     "Not much, we just hung around."

    James laughed incredulously. "Is that all I get after sixteen years of
being a devoted younger brother? There must have been more to it. I
couldn't spend nearly six hours just wandering round town."

     Martin stayed silent.

     "I bet you two found some nice bench hidden away so you could smooch."

     "Where on earth can you find anywhere that's out of the way in town?"

     James just winked at Martin, winding him up further.

     With the dirty dishes washed and dried, Martin went to his room to
escape the family. There he lay pondering what happened while Phil was
kissing him. He felt he needed to speak to him again; he just wanted to
know everything was still all right.

     Picking up his mobile phone, he rang Phil's number and waited for him
to answer, his foot nervously tapping the end of his bed.

     "Hi, it's Martin." He spoke softly.

     The conversation was short and Martin thanked him for such a nice day
together. He wanted to do it again, and soon. As Phil couldn't be certain
when he was free it was left with Phil saying that he would ring him
tomorrow.

     As he ended the call, Martin clutched his mobile and curled up on his
bed, the voice of Phil still fresh in his ear.


Knowing he wanted to be alone, James had left Martin alone in their room
for several hours. It was getting late and Tony was just been told to go to
bed. Displaying his usual annoyance of being the first to bed all time,
Tony only delayed the inevitable by a few minutes. James said he would go
up with him, as he too was quite tired after the day he'd had and they both
bounded up the stairs. Shouting goodnight to each other as Tony closed his
bedroom door; James went into his bedroom and saw Martin lying down reading
a book.

     "Mum and Dad say they're off to some antique fair in the morning."

    "Uh huh." Martin grunted, hoping not to get into a conversation with
James that would lead to what he was doing that day.

     "Tony's going with them for some reason. I think it might have
something to do with him badgering them as he's after something. Probably
some new game. So he's being especially nice to them."

     "Right." Martin turned over a page.

     "I was just wondering if you wanted to carry on with the picture. You
said it wouldn't be much longer and if you've got all tomorrow morning you
should be able to make a good stab at it."

     Martin looked over at James. "You don't mind then, you've got nothing
else better to do?"

     "No plans whatsoever."

     "Alright then. It'll be good to be able to spend a few hours solidly
on it without interruptions."

     James nodded to Martin and then began to strip down to his briefs and
sat on top of his bedclothes.  Reaching under his mattress he began to
write in his diary.



James' Diary

Today has been one hell of a day. I woke up to find Martin naked and drying
himself after his shower.  He must have thought I was still asleep as he
didn't rush to get dressed like he usually did. I only opened my eyes
slightly to see him, so that if he looked at me it looked like my eyes were
closed. He's actually got quite a nice body, it's a shame he's so shy about
it.
     Not only did I get to see my big brother in all his glory this
morning, but later when I was with Tom, he stripped down to nothing in a
changing room while trying on swimming trunks. I was a bit shocked as it is
only the second time we'd met and already he's parading his tackle in front
of me. Not that I complained, he's quite a sexy looking boy and is quite
well developed. But as soon as I saw his cute little dick (not that little
really as it must have been about four inches) my own went rigid. It hurt
as it pushed out right against the inside of the zip on my jeans. Good job
too, as the pain caused it to deflate.  For a good ten minutes I stood
watching him take on and off swim trunks and shorts, trying to look
nonchalant and giving my opinion on the style and how good he looked in
them. I don't know if he's just naturally uninhibited or he was trying to
tease me. As we really don't know each other that well I supposed it's the
former. Besides, if he's that uninhibited, then our time on the island
might prove to be interesting.
     I might give Tom a ring tomorrow, see how he's going and see if he
wants to meet up again. Do something fun this time instead of just plodding
round Town with a shopping list from his mother.
     Martin's still being very coy about what he's up to. I just wish he'd
talk to me as I get the feeling it is something he's afraid of. If he'd
talk it might clear things up. Besides Martin's emotional well-being, I am
bloody nosey and just want to know.
     We've planned to spend tomorrow morning working on the painting
again. It was my idea as I think he needs to get his mind out of the cloud
it's currently in. During the other sessions he's also opened up a bit more
to me, so perhaps he might feel more comfortable tomorrow when I'm resting
perfectly still on my bed, naked in front of him.
     I'm beginning to think that writing this on top of my bed in just my
underwear was a bad idea. Ever since writing about Tom, I can't get the
image of him naked out of my mind and I'm hard again. If Martin wasn't a
few feet away...
     I've just had an idea, I'm going to suggest me and Tom try out his new
swim gear. It'll be fun to mess around in the water and go on the log
flume. It might also settle the question of whether he is just uninhibited
or something else.



Thank you for reading.

Comments are welcomed and gratefully received.
Please email me at nifty (at) talesfromastream.co.uk

There are further chapters of this story, and other stories, on my website
www.talesfromastream.co.uk, some of which have not been posted here,
yet. Why not take a look and let me know what you think.

The author retains copyright.