Usual Disclaimer: If you are not of an age to read this because of the laws of your country or district please desist. If you are a bigot or prod-nosed fundamentalist of any persuasion find your monkey-spanking literature elsewhere and keep your predilections and opinions to yourself. Everyone else welcome and comments more than welcome.
This is a very long tale. It unfolds over a good number of years. What is true, is true: what is not is otherwise. If you have trouble with the English educational system let me know.
ALADDIN'S AWAKENING
By
Joel
Chapter 26
Part Two:
Wednesday May 10th 1944
Sodding games afternoon again. But, as last week, a few of us abstained from the great game of cricket and I and Matt tried our hand at throwing the discus. We hadn't been at it long before the two Fifth-Formers we'd run with last week jogged onto the field in rugger shorts and shirts. They came over to where we were standing and watched while I threw the discus as far as I could.
"Good," said Greg Hall, "But you'll get it further if you do it like this."
He took the discus from Matt who had run off and fetched it. Holding it very steadily he bent down a bit and whirled round releasing it with a mighty fling. It went much further than my puny effort. Matt ran off again and brought it back.
"You have a go now," Greg instructed, "You saw how I did it."
I copied his actions and the disc flew off and landed very near the spot he had reached. George Abbott clapped his hands.
"He'll beat you if you're not careful" he said, jokingly, to Greg, "Let me have a go."
His try went much further that either of ours and I ran off to collect it. It was Matt's turn and he managed to get it just past where my go had dropped.
"At least I can beat you on distance with the discus," he said giving me a nudge.
I was glad the others didn't cotton on and didn't ask what he meant.
Greg went off and fetched the discus.
"You have another go," he told me.
I did and this time it went even further than his throw.
"Bloody good that, lad!" he said, "You want to practice throwing `cause you've got a good chance of winning that for your age group on Sports' Day."
George was running on the spot.
"Are we going for a run?" he asked Greg. He turned to us. "D'you want to come as well like last week?"
We all nodded and while we waited Matt took the discus back to where the others were still trying the javelin and shot putt. Then we set off on the same trail as last time. Over the gate and into the copse.
Before we'd gone very far George pointed to another track going off to the right.
"We'll go off down there," he said, turning onto the narrower path, "It goes up to where we do some of our Cadet training."
Sure enough, about fifty yards on the path opened out into a large clearing with various wooden contraptions around and an open-sided hut much further on. It was a bit like a parade ground.
"God, I need a fag," George said, as we came to a stop just inside the clearing.
He delved into a pocket of his rugger shorts and brought out a battered packet of Woodbines. He looked in it.
"Only got two. Do you smoke?" This question directed at Matt and me. We both shook our heads. He flipped them out and crumpled up the packet and tossed it into a nearby bush. He handed one of the cigarettes to Greg.
"Got a light, Greg?" he asked.
Greg dug into his shorts pockets and extracted a small book of matches.
He tore one off and lit it and the two boys put their heads together and drew in unison on the fags. Matt and I stood and watched as curls of smoke issued from their nostrils.
"I need a slash," George then stated and without more ado pulled up the leg of his shorts and exhibited a short, thick cock and proceeded to unsheathe his knob. He aimed his prick at the top of the bush and a stream of piss arched high into it.
"Me, too," said Greg and quickly copied George's action. His shaft was much thinner but longer and he also aimed his outflow at the bush. The twin streams united for a moment just before they finished. A vigorous shaking of the dripping pricks then ensued, still with each producing a lazy curl of smoke from their nostrils.
While he was still waggling his cock George turned to face us fully.
"Weren't you two of the kids who downed those Sixth-Formers in the showers last term?" he asked.
Kids indeed! He and Greg were only Fifth-Formers! Anyway, I answered.
"Yep," I said, "We got all four of them down after they took the mick out of us."
George laughed. "Including our esteemed Cadet Sergeant Henry Gale. He was not pleased, in fact he said we had his permission to duff up any of you lot as it was beneath his dignity to deal with you himself. More like he was scared! You got him to show all he possessed didn't you?"
He took a puff and a haze of smoke wafted above him.
Matt spoke for the first time.
"Looked well used to me," he said, with an unaccustomed note of accuracy in my opinion.
"By self mainly," sniggered George and sucked at the end of the almost finished fag. "But he's got more to come after his final parade next month. Chris Prosser's got something planned."
Neither Matt nor myself said anything but just stood silently watching and listening. Greg's cigarette was finished and the butt joined George's and his pee in the wet bush. He was nodding at George's remarks and directed a question at George.
"Henry was very pally with young Cross at camp this time wasn't he? What's the score there?"
I assumed he meant Fred Cross who was in 4S and was a slim blond lad who always wore a well-pressed uniform on Mondays.
"The usual I suppose. Young Fred was in his tent to all hours," said George authoritatively. "Buffing each other's brass no doubt - or something like that!"
They both sniggered and Greg queried, "You did say brass?"
I thought I would have my say.
"I heard Gale visits some woman every Friday night when he delivers her meat."
"Yeah, I've heard that too," said George and added in a mock whisper, "And there's a queue for that job when he goes for his call-up." He looked at Greg. "But he'll shag anything on two legs, eh, Greg?"
Greg snorted, "Four legs as well if it includes what he's supposed to do down the barns behind the farmhouse."
What on earth did that mean? I could imagine one or two thing happening with Fred Cross and also, after my verbal instruction from Mike, with the recipient of the meat delivery. But four legs? I kept silent.
George changed the subject and directed his gaze towards Matt.
"Didn't you go to that Fensham place? Did you play?"
Matt said he had gone with the team and he had played when Hobbs got injured.
George nodded and coughed and beat his chest.
"Yeah, Chris Payne told me about it all. He lives next door to us."
He took a last draw on the tiny fag-end and looked at Matt through the final wisp of smoke.
"You're the one with the massive great dong, aren't you?" he asked innocently, flicking the butt to join Greg's in the bush.
Matt reddened slightly so I answered for him.
"Yeah, he's our pride and joy, aren't you Matt?" I said, prodding him in the back.
He shrugged his shoulders which drew his shorts up a bit and showed off his bulge. Before anything else could develop we heard noises coming from the hut. We wandered into the clearing a bit to see what was going on but stopped when we saw three of the Sixth- Formers, Cliff Bates, Billy Clarke and Rob Collins, sitting on the verandah with books surrounding them.
"What are you lot doing here?" demanded Cliff, "You're disturbing us, we've got important exams starting next week and you're upsetting our revision."
Greg explained that we were out for a run and had stopped for a breather but we would be going now.
"And don't let me catch you smoking in school, Abbott!" called out Billy turning his attention to him, "I saw you by the bush, you filthy wretch, leading those youngsters astray!" He waved cheerily at me and Matt.
"Clear off Abbott, or I'll tell Henry Gale to put you on a fizzer!" shouted Cliff Bates, "He'll have you running round the field with your pack on, won't he? Double time, up down, up down, move it lad....," This last in a perfect imitation of Henry Gale's parade ground voice.
Matt and I exchanged glances as Greg and George had faces of stone. We turned and started to run off closely followed by Greg and George and laughter from the three in the hut.
We ran off without saying anything to each other and reached the other gate. George was fuming.
"Who the fuck do they think they are?" he said aggressively, "Bloody Sixth-Formers that's all!"
Greg laughed. "But they've got your number, mate. You shouldn't have answered Batesey back when he told you off last week before Assembly."
"Fuck him!" was George's only reply as he nimbly vaulted the gate with us in hot pursuit.
We were greeted once more with no hot water in the showers, so, as Roo and Tony were coming for French Circle later, I said Matt might as well have a bath at ours. We arrived home well before four and stripped off in my bedroom before racing along to the bathroom.
Matt smacked my backside as I leant over the bath to turn the taps on.
"You can stop that," I said and returned to my onslaught of the previous week. I turned and stared down at him. "Your massive dong isn't so massive this week," I announced, "You've been telling me lies when you said it hadn't shrunk."
This stopped Matt in his tracks. He looked absolutely shell-shocked. He stared down at his cock.
"I measured it last night and it was just the same," he said haltingly.
"I'm sure of that."
"Doesn't look like it to me," I said goadingly. "You'd better get someone else to measure it for you."
"Will you do it?" he pleaded.
"Not now," I said unfeelingly, "I want a bath."
I felt the temperature of the water. It was OK so I stepped in.
"Come on, Matt, hop in, we haven't got long."
I sat down and grabbed the soap as he stepped in and settled himself. I rubbed the soap over me and got up a good bit of lather then reached over and rubbed the soap on him and as he lay back I lathered him. I rubbed the soap down over his hairy bush and then grabbed his thick tool which rose swiftly as I yanked at it. I gave it a good belting as he rocked his hips. A good load of come was accompanied by a full-throated ....aaagh and a seraphic smile. No sooner had he finished squirting he sat up and reached for my rampant shaft. No disappointment there either. A goodly fountain of spunk soon shot up from my knob and splashed onto his stomach accompanied by my own ....aaagh!
"You see, Jacko, mine hasn't shrunk has it?" he said triumphantly, "And yours is bigger!"
I had to admit to my deception. But, I said first I was very disappointed in him in the way he had spilled military secrets so readily. He did have the grace to admit he was wrong and when I'd finished said it was a good job we could spill our stuff as easily as that!
Roo and Tony arrived soon after we had got dressed again and Tony confirmed it would be OK for Tom to come with me to Ulvescott but we would have to cycle over separately from the Scouts. The way he said it made me think that he could be a pompous little prick sometimes.
Ma was in a very good mood and rattled us through all sorts of constructions. She particularly commended Matt and after they had all gone told me he had a very good ear for French and should do very well.
So, Matt not only had a massive dong, still the same length even after my attempt to convince him otherwise, he was also getting good at French. But, he still couldn't shoot his stuff as far as me - even though now in my cosy bed it was just firing a few inches up my chest ....aaagh!
Thursday and Friday at school were, as usual, tedious. We spent a lot of time doing revision as the beaks were busy marking or invigilating and, of course, Cleggy got himself his usual ration of lines not only from Campion but from Van as well. Because I was talking to Matt as Campion gave Cleggy his lines I got a hundred to do as well! Cheek, nothing else was happening. Cleggy and Nobbo are thick as thieves now and Benno's new friend is Peter Fry who says he's going to join the St John's as well. I saw very little of anyone over the weekend. I certainly didn't have a weak end because it kept me company very nicely two or three times a day especially as I had another look at the photos.
Peter Fry turned up Monday evening at St John's with Benno. Pete went off with Pat who was taking a joiners' group and while he was gone and Benno was practising splinting and bandaging a broken arm on me I asked him how he was getting on with Pete.
"He's alright," replied Benno, "He likes football and so do I and now the local team have finished the season we're going to the cricket. I've volunteered to go with St John's to the matches so that's why Pete's joined up too."
He pulled the bandage tight and knotted it expertly. "And if you want to know... the answer's yes we have... 'cause he said you and he hadn't," he paused, "yet."
He looked at me and grinned.
No we hadn't, in fact he was one of my missing five in the form. I wondered, when and where! I nodded.
"Some time, some place," I said and tried to waggle my fingers. "You've done that a bit tight. You've stopped my circulation and I'll die of gangrene." My medical knowledge was advancing by leaps and bounds, or perhaps, bunny-hops.
"Don't exaggerate," he said, giving the splint a tap. "At least you haven't got a real broken arm to go with it."
Matt came and joined us, also sporting a splinted arm done by one of our Third Years who kept trying to join in our group. We compared knots and the general expertise and decided there wasn't anything between the two. Mr Halloran came up and inspected them as well and declared that both were excellent. The Third Year, whose name was Marsh, was very pleased with himself and fussed round Matt and I could see that Matt was very much taken with the attention he was getting. Benno had to rush off to look after his brothers and Pete and I were left together after most of the others as Matt had disappeared as well
Without saying anything to each other, we sidled round the back of the hut where there was an old shed. We stood behind it, listening carefully but no one was about. Within seconds we had each other's cocks out. Pete wanked me off first just with my dick poking out of my flies and I really wanted it badly. There was just a bit of moonlight but I saw my spunk shoot up the side of the shed in a goodly amount. As soon as I'd fired my wad I pulled Pete's cock and balls completely out and did it to him. Crumbs, just like me, Pete shot a real load which joined mine all up the side of the shed. We stood still for ages after he came with Pete whispering that he'd only got four more of our lot to go - I giggled and said, `Same here'.
There was nobody about as we sauntered off to collect our bikes and he cycled a bit of the way with me and we compared notes. Only one of our fours overlapped, Johnny Wills, who was in the Cadets. Pete still had to get Vince, Tim Parker and Jim Masters, who were all Scouts, and my others were Johnny Pearson, Danny Ross and Johnny Reed and those three were Cadets like Willsy. Pete said he would tell Danny Ross 'cause he and Danny were great pals so I thought to myself that will be another one soon!.
I slept very soundly even though I didn't toss off again. Ma woke me just after seven and said she and Pa had to be at work by half past eight so I'd better be up and off for my run soon if I wanted breakfast. As usual I bumped into Tom and did part of Prentice Road for him and finished up going twice round the perimeter of the park. Ma and Pa were ready to go as I arrived home and my breakfast was on the table.
I went upstairs and stripped off to have a wash and, unusual for me this time in the morning, I suddenly wanted a wank. I stood so I could see myself in the wardrobe mirror and produced an enormous series of squirts which shot right over the towel. Gosh, the spasms were so powerful my balls really ached. Luckily the stuff had gone on the lino surround and not on the carpet so I mopped it up and inspected the towel. Strands of sticky spunk were all over the further half. I giggled and thought of Julia and my stuff on her towel. I folded it over and hoped it would dry off during the day. Needless to say, what with the extra time for the wank and dawdling over my breakfast, I was only just in time to get into line as the bell went.
Mike arrived just after I got home after school. He said he and Vince had gone for a long hike on Saturday because both of them were getting fed up of having all their sisters round them all the time. I said at least he had sisters as I did feel lonely sometimes. He said next time they went off somewhere I could go with them. I said I was going to Ulvescott at the same time as the Scouts and Mike said, rather mysteriously, `I know'. I thought about that in bed that night. It sounded a bit ominous. There would be sixteen of them and just me and Tom. Still, first things first, or at least, the second today.
Wednesday May 17th 1944
Wednesday came, bright and clear. I decided to have a lie-in and not do my run as I expected that we would meet up with the Fifth Formers this afternoon. My lie-in was a disaster. I finally crawled out of bed at half past eight with Ma banging on the door. I had to rush breakfast and rush to school and had my name taken for being late by a smirking Henry Gale. At least, I think I had my name taken, but no note that I was in detention appeared during the morning.
The afternoon games was the same as before. Matt and I practised throwing the discus and then George and Greg appeared clad in shorts and vests. We set off on the usual route but this time did not stop at the Cadets' training patch. We passed that with George giving a vigorous two fingers to any Sixth Formers who might be revising in the hut. However, George did lead us off on another side path which brought us out into a sheltered hollow with some logs placed around. George perched on the end of one and drew out another rather battered pack of Woodbines.
"Got four this time," he announced, "Do you two want one?"
Both Matt and I shook our heads but plonked ourselves, side by side, on a log facing George. Greg was having a pee to the side and when finished sat beside George. George flicked a fag towards him and, like last week, Greg produced the book of matches. We watched as they lit up and inhaled deeply, interrupted by a cough from Greg.
George blew a cloud of smoke heavenwards and spluttered. Then he sniggered.
"My young brother thinks he's in the shit," he said, moving closer to Greg on the log and taking another drag on the cigarette. "He and a couple of others were tying to measure that little turd Jacobs on Friday at the back of the bike sheds. You know, that little fat kid with the buck teeth in 3K. He never goes in the shower so they wanted to see if he's got a dick like a donkey or nothing at all." He stopped and grinned and snorted, "Huh..., He said they'd got it out and were trying to get a ruler against it but he started to blub and they heard someone coming so they scarpered and hid round the corner."
He looked at us closely with a conspiratorial air and then continued. "It was Campion and he wanted to know what was happening. The kid said nothing about what they'd been doing but that some of the bigger boys had frightened him. Luckily he'd done his flies up by then but my brother had dropped his ruler which had his name on it and Campion picked it up and walked off with it. Campion said nothing about it when they had him for History yesterday morning but Dave's ruler was on his desk yesterday afternoon. So, he's a bit worried."
"When did he tell you all this?" I asked.
"Last night when I came to bed. I knew there was something wrong so I asked him what it was."
"And did the kid have a big dick?" Matt asked, surprisingly, I thought.
"I don't know, " George said, "Dave said they'd only just got his thing out when he started to howl."
Greg nudged him. "D'you remember when we did it to Johnny Finch and it was so small you had to stretch it to measure it?"
"Yeah, and look at the size of it now." He stretched his hands an unbelievable way apart.
"Don't exaggerate, but it's bigger than yours is!" said Greg.
"Shut up, you, just because you won the round robin at camp."
Greg took another drag at the diminishing Woodbine. He blew a ribbon of smoke towards Matt.
"And what about this marvel you've got?" he said, pointing at Matt's crotch. "Are you going to give us a view, eh?"
I nudged Matt.
"Go on, I bet you beat both of them."
Matt was going a bit red as Greg and George both stood up, took a final drag on their ciggies and flicked the dog-ends into the undergrowth
"Going to show us, eh?" said George.
I nudged Matt again.
"Go on, be a sport!"
Matt stood up and very deliberately lowered his PE shorts which fell to his ankles. He hooked his fingers in the sides of his jockstrap, pulling the elastic down over his thighs, and then slid it down his legs. His prick and balls hung limply down. The two boys gave low whistles.
"Let's see yours," said Matt in a quiet voice.
Two sets of shorts and pants were lowered simultaneously. Although both boys were several inches taller than Matt neither had anything like his equipment between their legs. Very slowly Greg's dick began to swell. He put a hand over it to shield it's rise from view but George promptly pulled his hand away. A thin, whippy dick stood erect. As I was getting a swelling sensation as well I hooked my shorts and jockstrap down as well.
The two Fifth-Formers exchanged glances. George pointed to the jockstraps now round our ankles.
"Where did you get those? There's only a couple of lads in our class have them."
I said mine had been Chris Gardiner's and I'd been given it with all sorts of old clobber by his mum and Matt added his father had given him his. This had a quietening effect on the two lads except that something was happening to George now. As one might expect his shaft was rising rapidly and he didn't bother to put a covering hand over it. Rather, he leaned back to show off the fact that the short stubby cock which had hung down from his bush finished up well-formed with a hefty thickness. At the same time Matt shuffled forward and caught hold of Greg's prick just below the ridge of his knob.
I looked at George who inclined his head and grinned. My own dick was now fully up and bent back almost painfully against my belly. I also shuffled forward and very soon the two Fifth Formers were being tossed off, side by side, with us two Fourth Formers standing just behind them keeping our strokes matched in speed. They came almost simultaneously. Greg won by a short head, or skinny dick, with a fair amount of come spurting out over the log Matt and I had been sitting on.
I pulled back harder on George as I saw Greg about to come and got his thick foreskin right back over his knob because, up to then although I'd tried, his skin seemed too tight to get fully back. He outshot Greg in both amount and distance and stood panting for a few moments. Then he reached down to his left where Matt was standing and grabbed his tool. That meant Greg had to shuffle round to where I was standing and he proceeded to toss me off left-handed. I certainly wasn't used to this.
As he tossed me I tried to think who else had done it that side but my mind was blank. I was squeezing my buttocks together as he did it with his hand under my cock and two fingers on one side and his thumb on the other. He had pulled my foreskin back on the first stroke and his grip was very tight so what with the wait, which must have set my stuff pretty ready to shoot, I soon produced a great volley of spunk up and over the log into the bush behind. I put my hand down to stop Greg as he carried on pulling back on my cock but the whole of my prick ached madly so I had to do something. He stopped but held my still stiff dick tightly as we watched George bringing Matt to his conclusion.
"God, that's a handful to hold!" said George as the final squirts of Matt's come landed on the log, "Doesn't your arm ache after it?" He playfully tapped Matt on his biceps. "I bet you've got the biggest muscles up here as well as down there."
He turned to me.
"And as for you! Where do you get all that stuff? You must have a fair old production line down there somewhere."
He reached down across Greg and felt my bollocks.
"Nice and loose and just like mine," he said slowly, "They're bigger than his, aren't they?"
With his other hand he pointed at Greg's swingers which I would have thought were at least as big as mine. I didn't say anything and George continued.
"That's the biggest I've ever handled and we've had a few hefty ones in the Cadets, haven't we, Greg?"
Greg reached down and ran a finger down Matt's now pendulous tool.
"D'you remember, Billy Scott's was a whopper? He always boasted it was eight inches but I don't think it was."
"You should know," said George giving Greg a nudge and addressing us, "Billy and he were bunked down together all one wet weekend, weren't you Greg? And how many times was it? Twelve each wasn't it? And he was only a little skinny kid then, weren't you, eh Greg? How old, just fourteen, eh?"
Greg gave a wry smile. "And Billy was just on eighteen, I think, but we enjoyed ourselves and he taught me a lot. Anyway, what about you, you went round three whole tents last year and ended up with a sprained wrist, didn't you?"
George let out a snort. "Yeah, that was my sixteenth birthday present to everyone on our camping week last August."
He paused and circled his cock with finger and thumb and, with some difficulty, eased his skin forward to cover his knob.
"Don't often get it back like that. Not for want of trying, though."
He puffed his cheeks as he bent down and drew up his pants and shorts in one go. The other three of us did the same. George sat down on the log not splattered with spunk. The other three of us arranged ourselves with Matt next to him and Greg and me facing him. He drew out the battered packet of Woodbines again.
"God, I need one after that," he said forcefully, "Two left. Here you are Greg, you always like a fag after, don't you?" He turned to Matt and me. "You two can have a drag if you like."
We both shook our heads again. He held a cigarette out for Greg and the two shared a match. Both drew down lungs full of smoke again.
George looked sideways at Matt and put a hand on his thigh. Matt moved his knee so it was touching George's own bare thigh.
"You're a hairy little bugger as well, ain't you? God, your legs are hairier than mine."
Matt moved his leg up and down against George's then spoke in a low hoarse whisper.
"And what did you actually do on your birthday? 'Cause I shall be sixteen in September."
George moved his hand so it rested just above Matt's knee. He stroked the black hairs back with the palm of his hand.
"I tossed them all off, of course. There were three tents of eight each and as soon as our tent had settled down I went round and whacked them all off. Greg had gone to the other two tents 'cos I did him first and told 'em they were in for a pleasant surprise and they weren't to do anything because I was doing the rounds. It took me over an hour to get round the lot." He snorted. " I nearly didn't do them all 'cause that sod Brownie in the third tent wouldn't let me do it to him at first." He put on a la-di-da voice. "He thought he was too high and mighty for a junior Cadet to handle his dainty dong, so there!" He reverted to his usual voice. "But the lads either side of him held him down while I jacked him off last of all. Then I did it to myself and shot my wad all over him while the others were holding him and he said he'd have my bollocks so I gave his a squeeze when I'd finished."
He snorted. "Miserable sod he was but he had his comeuppance..." He snorted again. "...'Cause by that time most of the others had crowded in to watch and when I went off to bed with a sore arm through over work most of them were having another go and Brownie was being held down while a crowd of them dropped their loads on him." He chortled. "Not bad eh, twenty-four at a go, including myself?"
I looked down at Matt. The bulge between his legs was definitely increasing and something of mine was beginning to pulsate.
"And what's a round robin?" Matt asked Greg.
(`Stupid boy!' I thought. After hearing all about Tony's capers at Scout camp and knowing what happened to the others at Fensham he should really know. Or, was he just acting dumb? I would find out later!)
"Christ, don't you know?"
Matt looked a bit startled but Greg grinned and carried on.
"Huh, it's just everyone in the tent doing it to each other - of course, you don't have to do it to yourself, unless you want to...."
In the pause I said, "With eight in a tent that means you have to do it to seven others and they all have to do it to you, so that's fifty-six wanks in all..., or sixty-four if you all then do it to yourselves..."
"Yeah, that's right," Greg said, nodding his head, "And it only took us three nights 'cause we all did three others the first night of camp and either two or three the other two nights. Then we all did it together in a circle the next night and that made the sixty-four." He laughed, "That means we all did it at least once that night..."
I interrupted, "That's an average of sixteen loads a night, isn't it?"
Greg paused, "...My God, your maths is good, that's right - I think we all shot at least twice nightly all that week, didn't we Georgie?"
George blew out some smoke and mouthed, "And some!"
Greg stuck up two fingers at him and said to us, "Yeah, then the next night it was his birthday and he went through all three tents."
"Crumbs!" said Matt thoughtfully, "How many have you two done it to then?"
Greg replied immediately, "Me! Twenty-nine, including this afternoon so far - but ask him!"
He pointed at George who took a long pull at the cigarette still held delicately in finger and thumb.
"Forty-five counting you and I'll make it forty-six in about five minutes after you're pal here obliges me by standing firm."
Matt was looking pensive and then asked, "And did you do it to Henry Gale?"
Both boys laughed. George said, "You learn very quickly not to fuck with George at camp."
"But, you might get fucked by George instead, eh Georgie?" said Greg with a grin.
"Shut up you, just because he made me camp orderly last year and you lot thought..." He stopped, lunged and poked a fist at Greg who leaned easily out of the way. I deduced that it was a friendly punch....
"You did though, eh, Georgie?" Greg said, making a fist and wanking movements.
"Yeah, but that's all," said George rather broodingly.
"I thought so, you wouldn't tell me at the time, you crafty bastard...." Greg paused and poked his fist at George who made a grab, missed and shrugged his shoulders. He took a puff at the now almost finished cigarette.
"And what about that boy Cross?" asked Matt immediately, showing an inquisitive and loquacious streak which was now becoming quite a feature. At least, where older boys were concerned.
George flicked his dog-end away. "Oh, our golden haired camp orderly was snug as a bug in bed in our tent but he needed quite a working over...."
"Obvious," interjected Greg, "He'd already been at it elsewhere...."
"With Gale?" asked inquisitive Matt.
"Now that would be telling but...." said George.
"...Really, we ought to explain...," interposed Greg, "...But, you see, Gale and the old Sergeant go down to the pub for a skinful between eight and ten each evening. Whoever is camp orderly has to see they get to their right tent when they get back - 'cos they have their own small tents some way off ours - so all our entertainment goes on while they're at the pub."
That explained a lot because I was wondering who was in charge.
"Yeah, so as soon as I'd finished young Cross he was booted out to go and lick Henry's arse as soon as he returned."
"So you didn't do anything to Gale?" asked Matt.
Both boys guffawed.
"Certainly not, he had young Cross this camp to help him get his boots off!" said George, laughing.
"So Gale didn't know about the round robin or anything?" asked Matt.
"Yeah, of course he did, but when you're nearly eighteen you've been through it all before," said Greg philosophically, "Old Henry's not too bad really, at least he kept old Sergeant Moss off our backs."
"But I thought you couldn't drink until you were eighteen," said Matt with knowledge I hadn't known about.
"I don't think the landlord of a little pub in the country is going to worry too much about a little matter like that. Anyway, Henry looks eighteen even if he isn't," said George authoritatively.
"And he's got the dick to prove it," added Greg, flicking his now dead dog-end into the bush, "He's shown us it enough times, eh George?"
"Yeah, and now it's revelation time, have you and Henry?" asked George, quizzically, with half-closed eyes.
Greg gave a little snort, "Of course, that weekend camp you didn't come to...."
"You came, though?"
Greg nodded. "Yeah, there was just Henry and three of us so he had all presenting arms the first night."
"You wily bugger, you never told me!" George said, beginning to laugh. "He's certainly a seeker after knowledge, ain't he?"
"Well you never told me about you and him!" Greg said forcefully, "I've heard about most of your others though."
George laughed. "Old Henry always wants to see if anyone is better endowed than him, you see," he said, nodding at us.
"I didn't think he had a great deal that day we had him down on the floor," remarked Matt, "None of those Sixth-Formers have except for Billy Clarke."
George was grinning all over his face at this remark. "You'd better watch it, with a dick your size old Henry will be green with envy but he'd want to check it out in any case."
Matt grimaced but the bulge in his shorts didn't diminish.
George turned and pointed down at the front of my shorts. "And yours isn't too bad a length either, is it?"
I immediately stepped in front of him and with my hands on my hips hooked my thumbs into the top of shorts and jock strap and swiftly dropped them. I held my running vest up against my chest. My prick was already rigid against my belly.
"Bloody hell, you young kids, always ready for it." He took a good look at my dick. "I would say that's a good sized rod," George said, I think, admiringly.
I looked him straight in the face, noticing his acne-cratered cheeks and a patch of fresh pustules on his forehead.
"That's my nickname, Rod. Nobbo Clarke calls me that. And he calls him Perch," I said, pointing at Matt who came over and stood beside me, "And Nobbo's Pole. Actually his brother called us it first."
George snorted again, "You're at the communal games as well with Billy, eh? Big time stuff there, Sixth Form and all! You must tell us more some time."
He turned towards Matt and pulled on the legs of his shorts until they reached his mid-thighs. Matt didn't move a muscle. Then he ran a hand over the mighty bulge in the pouch of Matt's jockstrap.
"You'd better help him," he said to Greg and turned back to me "And I don't think this lad can wait any longer, either."
He stood up and quickly dropped his own shorts and pants, turned me round and stood close behind me so that his thick, stiff prick was pressing into me. I leaned back against him as he looped his fingers round my cock and began to toss me off rapidly. I was breathing very deeply when the spasms hit the base of my cock. Spunk flew again. Perhaps not so much as before, but the feelings as it jetted out were powerful. I was panting heavily.
As soon as George started on me Greg had Matt's cock out and was giving him the left-handed treatment, also very rapidly. I'd come this second time pretty quickly but Matt took a little while longer. George and I watched as Greg pounded away on his shaft and Matt produced quite a sizeable jet of spunk. We changed partners and Greg guided my left hand round him so I could clutch his balls at the same time. Both of them took even longer than Matt to come but there were two hefty squirts of pearly spunk as a reward for our efforts. I gave Greg's balls quite a squeeze as I felt him coming - not so hard as the time with Mike - he didn't screech out but he seemed to like it by the sounds he was making. We stood for a moment or two before we hoisted our attire and sat down again.
"There you are, we've had a half round robin this afternoon and as you've done it with each other before and so have we that's a full one." George grinned at us, "Much better than having a run, eh?" He turned to his pal. "This is quite a favourite place of ours, isn't it Greg?"
Greg only nodded, he was certainly a bit out of breath as I had been.
"Last summer we were here every games afternoon, weren't we Greg? Had some good times." He looked at me. "And what about you and your pals?"
I told them about Cleggy, Roo and Tony having a race and they both nodded sagely. I said I only had four to go and all of them were Cadets. On hearing their names both laughed and George said all of them were at his birthday party, as he called it, and I shouldn't have any difficulty in getting them to participate. He said he thought almost all the Fifth Formers had completed their rounds of their form, he certainly had and so had Greg. But George's score of forty-six and Greg's of thirty! I would have to tell Tony and Roo to pull their socks up - or whatever!
Rather wearily, we decided we'd better make our way back to school and set off at a much slower pace than we'd started with. As usual no hot water but Matt had to do some shopping for his mum so I cycled home alone. When I got there I had a quick swill down and was glad I hadn't had my run this morning as two runs and two wanks would have been very tiring.
Actually, that night I wasn't too tired as I just had to have a third in bed night thinking of the afternoon's news and wishing I was in the Cadets as well, even if Henry Gale might want to examine my prick!
Thursday morning I got waylaid by Nobbo as soon as Huggy let us go at break time. He wanted to know if I would like to go to the pictures with him and Cleggy on Saturday. I said Cleggy was no pal of mine having had to do all those lines. Nobbo said Cleggy would do mine in future if I asked as he was already doing seven other lots and anyway we didn't have Campion again until Monday and Cleggy had promised to be good for the rest of the week. At any rate they had something to ask me which was very important. I shrugged my shoulders and agreed to meet up at Nobbo's at two o'clock. As a bribe he said his mum was leaving some tea as she was on duty.
To be continued: