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. E-mails are always welcome! If you need any elucidation, ask!
ALADDIN'S AWAKENING
By
Joel
Chapter 29
Part One
Saturday 27th May 1944
Tom had completed his paper-round and was just inspecting his bike for the tenth time I expect when I rode up to his front gate.
"I'm ready," he said rather breathlessly, "Dunc's checking to see I've got all my stuff ready."
"You don't need much," I said, wondering whether a pantechnicon would be wanted.
"No, I know I don't need much 'cos I've got to carry it, but Dunc's been to camp more than I have so he can check."
God!, what with worry-guts Matt and his anxieties have I got another? Yes, I thought, dear Tom's come up with levels of distress before. I kept my mouth shut and waited. Not long. Dunc came though the kitchen door.
"Hi, Jacko!" he called out cheerfully as soon as he saw me, "Do you think this will be too much for my little brother to carry?"
He held up a medium sized rucksack which looked about the same size as mine.
Tom stuck his tongue out at his big brother then looked expectantly at me for my judgement.
"Yep," I said as the figure of authority, "As long as he has a toothbrush, a spare pair of underpants and six pairs of clean socks he should be OK."
"Why do I need six pairs of socks?" queried Tom, looking mystified.
Dunc laughed and nipped his nose between finger and thumb.
Tom looked displeased.
"If you're going to take the mickey before we start you'd better watch it," he said menacingly, "I'll deal with you when we get there."
"You'll have Bran to deal with too," I said, all sweetness and light, "He keeps nasty boys away from me."
Duncan was enjoying the exchange and butted in.
"You'd better get a move on if you want to get there by lunchtime," he said looking at his watch. "Just on nine o'clock so three and a bit hours with stops for the necessaries." He turned his attention to Tom. "Have you said cheerio to Mum?
Tom nodded and said he had and we set off with Dunc blowing kisses at Tom and making him swear under his breath.
Tom told me first of all the arrangements he'd had to make for his paper round to be done. Most enlightening to someone most uninterested in such logistics but he was bursting to tell his tale. As we rode out on the country road outside Kerslake Tom had finished his saga so I asked if he wanted to know what, or who, I corrected myself, I had found that morning. He looked mystified again so I described in great detail dear Henry and his predicament. Tom was gobsmacked. I had to repeat the tale several times and, needless to say, the tale was embroidered. I must say the journey to Ulvescott seemed so much shorter with the elaboration of the events, which contributed to Tom's amusement but also to his chagrin because he hadn't witnessed such a wonderful spectacle.
We did stop for a pee and a sandwich and I noticed as Tom pulled up the leg of his shorts to get his cock out it was semi stiff so the tale was having an effect on him. Me. I'd had a stiff cock since I'd started the tale and wished I'd tweaked poor Henry's cock when he was helpless just to see what would happen. Still Tom was happy and we made the journey in good time.
Of course, it was Tom's first visit to Ulvescott Manor so I don't know what he expected.. He gawped rather at the ornate gates which hadn't been destroyed in the name of war salvage and was intrigued by the smaller gate through which we wheeled our bikes. Odd? There was no Bran to welcome us. Then I realised why.
The first sight of Ulvescott Manor that Tom got was of enormous Bran shagging the much smaller black Labrador bitch belonging to Mrs Fry. Bran was too far gone in his ecstasy to notice us homing in on him. His flanks were pumping back and forth at a good ninety miles an hour or whatever measure one makes of pumping movements. Wow, he was at the height of his exertions and was obviously coming gallons and almost crushed the poor bitch with his final few thrusts. She let out a howl and he responded with four triumphant 'woofs' and then turned his head and saw us.
Poor Bran. He didn't know what to do. I didn't know then that dogs got transfixed during a shag and had to wait until the extra bit of erection subsided to extract themselves. We stood and watched until, with a tug, Bran was free and the poor bitch loped off without looking back at all. Bran flopped to the ground and, if he had been human, I would have said it was through embarrassment.
Bran slowly got up, shook himself and came and sat in front of me. He seemed even bigger because he didn't have to look up very far as I stared at him. He carefully raised a paw and I took it and shook it. I ignored the fuck just as Queen Elizabeth the First had ignored the Earl of Oxford's fart only to remind him of it after seven years absence.
"This is Tom, Bran, say hello to him."
Bran turned, padded over to Tom, sat and held out his paw again. Tom shook it.
"Hello, Bran," he said, with more confidence than I thought he would produce. "I hope we'll be good friends. Jacko has told me about you."
He let go of Bran's paw who then came over and stood beside me. I wasn't going to wait seven years.
"Was that for our enlightenment, our education, or just your pleasure?"
I asked the poor dog.
Tom giggled. Talking to the dog as if it were human! Bran gave another soft `woof' and set off down the drive towards the house. We followed pushing our bikes.
I wheeled my bike and left it beside the kitchen door. Tom did the same, gawping a bit more, now at the size of the manor. It was rather quiet. I knocked at the door. A rather flustered Dora opened it and beckoned us in.
"We be all in a pickle, young Master, " she said breathlessly, "That electric's gone off these last two hours and Mrs Crossley is in with the hens 'cos it's time to cull some off and Miss Pike has gone to find if there is a wire down. You do come on in and have a bite to eat."
She looked at Tom. The question "'OO be 'ee?" was being signalled.
"Oh, Dora," I said, "This is another of Tony's and my friends. This is Tom Buchanan." She nodded at him. "And this is Dora. She helps to keep us fed, don't you Dora?"
She giggled and Tom smiled at her.
"Ooh, do come on in," she repeated and retreated into the kitchen. "There's more trouble," she continued, over her shoulder, "Mrs Fry's bitch has gone and she's in heat and Mrs Fry is all worrit!"
I looked at Tom. How does one explain to an upright countrywoman that you have just witnessed her employer's dog fucking said bitch.
Tom so far had said nothing. Even the spectacle of Bran's mighty copulatory activity hadn't elicited even a murmur from him. He had said his piece to Bran but no comment. He'd responded to Dora's greeting but that was all. But now he took over.
"I think we have seen Mrs Fry's bitch," he said confidently. "I think if she's in heat then Bran might become a father."
Dora turned, startled, her hand flew to her mouth.
"Dear Lord," she said, "That's where he's been. Missus'll kill me when she finds out. I let him go out when I knew you'd be along. That scheming bitch must'a been there waiting."
I thought I'd better calm things down. Dora was getting very agitated.
She looked as if she might wring Bran's neck if she had the power. Looking at Dora's washerwoman arms I guessed she would have the power. Bran, wisely, had only poked his head into the kitchen door, which was most unusual for him.
"We'd better go and tell Mrs Fry when we've had something to eat," I said. "We might find her bitch on the way. And Bran had better stay here."
Dora nodded and went into the pantry. She came out bearing a newly baked loaf, some cold chicken and a jar of homemade pickle.
"Here you are, me dears" she said, "I put the plates on the table in the breakfast room."
We went through and even after demolishing the sandwiches on the way we both scoffed a good helping of chicken with the very good-tasting, tangy tomato pickle. There was a pitcher of apple juice already out so we had that as well. Dora was beaming when she came back in. Country people like hearty eaters!
"We'll go straight to Mrs Fry's now," I said, "Then I'll take Tom up to our room when we get back."
Dora looked even more pleased at that suggestion and I led Tom out round the back of the house towards the path leading to the village and Mrs Fry's house.
Oh my God! Tom was in for another surprise - and so was I!
We were passing the second of the barns when I noticed through a slightly open window that there was movement inside. I turned to Tom and put my finger to my lips and dropped down below the level of the window. Tom did as he was bid and also got down to my level.
"Shh," I whispered, "There's someone in the barn."
I was rather puzzled. The only people around on a Saturday would be the prisoners- of-war and then only Herr Vogel or Hans - and it was lunch-time. I straightened up very slowly until my head was level with the side of the window. I peered in. Oh, my, what a sight. It was Hans. His overalls were down round his ankles and he was fisting a hugely thick upright cock as if nothing else in the world mattered. He was so far gone, with his head back, eyes closed and mouth wide open, I doubt if anything would have stopped him. I put my finger to my lips again and motioned Tom to stand and look as well.
We both stared, goggle-eyed as he pounded his very hefty piece of meat while making slight moaning sounds as he did so. Then he pulled down very heavily about four times and each of these mighty pulls was accompanied by a tremendous squirt of white cum. He stopped pulling but his erect cock squirted about five times more.
I looked at Tom, he was transfixed. What an introduction to Ulvescott!
A huge dog shagging, then a huge German wanking. What next?
Silently we dropped below the window again and almost crept along the path until we were well clear of the barn. Neither of us said anything until we came to the gate leading to the village lane.
I looked at him. He looked at me. We both had a fit of the giggles.
"Gosh, Jacko," he said, recovering a bit, "I know what you've told me about you and the others here, but is everyone at it?"
"Seems like it," I said, "I've never seen either of those two doing things before. Poor old Bran." I giggled again. "I suppose dogs can't have a wank like us."
Tom was in fits. But he suddenly sobered. "Did you see the size of that man's cock?"
I nodded. Hans' prick was a real handful. Probably not as long as Mike's but fearsomely thick, thicker even than Billy's or even Gareth's. Yes, and Hans was a man. Four years or so older than Mike, Billy or Gareth all of whom I'd seen wanking, or helped to wank. Gosh, and the amount he squirted, too. Even I didn't make as much as that!
"He's much bigger than Dunc," Tom continued, "He'd make two or three of Dunc."
"Yes, he is taller and bigger," I said.
"No, I mean his prick," said Tom, "I think mine's bigger than Dunc's even now and your's is bigger than mine."
Revelations. Tom had hinted before than Duncan was not very well-endowed. Loyal Matt had never made any comments, other than mentioning six inches, after his stay on the school rugger trip with Duncan. I wouldn't ask him, he'd only get embarrassed and he was so devoted to the memory of that stay it would be an intrusion on my part. I was curious though and a personal inspection was out of the question now as Duncan would soon be off for his military service.
We walked in silence into the lane and then Tom stopped and put a hand out to stop me as well.
"I think the dog's in there," he whispered.
He pointed to a small path leading off the lane. I peered in but couldn't see anything so I went in about twenty yards and there was the black Labrador, pulling itself along by its front legs so rubbing its posterior on the grass in a clearing beside the path.
Tom had followed me and I nodded towards the dog when he stood by me. He was much braver than me as far as dogs were concerned because he immediately strode into the clearing where the dog stopped what it was doing, sat down and, whimpering, looked at him.
"Come on, old girl," Tom said confidently to the dog, catching hold of its collar. "We'll take you home, now, OK?"
He took a handkerchief from his pocket and knotted it into the ring on the collar. The dog obediently stood up and nuzzled his hand. It was quite a big Labrador but less than half the size of Bran.
"No wonder it was dragging itself," I said, "Look on its legs."
The black fur was streaked with strands of Bran's spunk. He must have overfilled the poor bitch and this was evidence of the overflow. There was also some blood as well. I said to Tom we'd better get the dog to Mrs Fry pretty quickly in case she had to get the vet to look at it.
The dog followed Tom quietly, padding along beside him and we soon reached the double gates leading to Mrs Fry's drive. As we walked in over the gravel a young lad appeared round the side of the house.
"Oh, good you've found her, Auntie's told me off for letting her out of the potting shed. Is she OK?"
Oh, this must be Mrs Fry's nephew, the famous Sam Catt. Tom handed the handkerchief end to the lad.
"I'm afraid Bran found her first."
The boy laughed, then put his hand over his mouth.
"Did you see it?"
We both nodded. He shook his head.
"I'm for the high jump when Auntie finds out."
He looked at us closely.
"You're not with the Scouts?"
"No," I said, "We're staying at the Manor. I'm Jacko and this is Tom."
The boy looked from one of us to the other. He looked at me again.
"I've heard of you, you're Tony and Roo's friend, aren't you? They're here with the Scouts but I couldn't camp with them this time as the tents are full. D'you know where they're camping?"
I had nodded to the first question and shook my head at the second.
"I expect we'll find them tomorrow."
He grinned. "We're coming to lunch tomorrow so I'll show you first if you like."
Our conversation ended then as Mrs Fry came round the corner of the house.
"Oh, hello Jacko, I heard voices," she stopped and saw the dog.
"I'm afraid...." I started.
"Bran?" she asked.
I nodded.
"Oh, can't be helped ...," she sighed, then turned and wagged a finger, "And as for you, young Samuel, you take Sally straight into the garage and get that bath in there filled with water."
"There's some blood...," I began.
"Oh," she said, resignedly. "Better see if Peter is around. He's my husband's old partner," she said in explanation. "I'll try and phone him." She turned to the lad. "Right, Sam, off you go!" He looked a bit woebegone but went off with the dog following him on the end of Tom's handkerchief.
"Was that yours?" Mrs Fry asked, pointing at the retreating figures.
"It was Tom's," I said. "He found her in the clearing by the Manor gate."
"Very rude of me," said Mrs Fry, "Should have introduced myself. Of course I know Jacko, but you're not with the Scouts?"
I explained that we weren't with the Scouts and this was Tom Buchanan. Mrs Fry looked at him carefully.
"Is your father Inspector Buchanan?"
Tom said his father had been an Inspector in the Police before going into the Army.
"Thought so, you look like him. Knew him well when I was on the Bench in Kerslake. Always very clear evidence. Anyway, better come in and I'll replace the handkerchief."
We were greeted on our return to Ulvescott Manor by a rather irate Miss Pike who was telling Dora what had happened. She was in a temper because the wire to the Manor had been damaged by an Army lorry hitting a post in the main road and the repairs wouldn't be finished until late in the afternoon. I think the driver of the lorry, who had apparently been told to wait by the damaged post by an officer, had had a roasting from Miss Pike when she had discovered what he had done. I think Bran had also been castigated as he was lying quietly outside the kitchen door and made no attempt to follow us in. However she quietened down somewhat on being introduced to Tom and she said she hoped he would have an enjoyable and interesting stay. We didn't say the interesting bit had started already with fucking and wanking as the main attractions!
I took Tom on a quick tour of the ground floor before we climbed the stairs to our room. Miss Pike said that we were in Piers' old room. I was so glad as I liked that room so much. Tom was very impressed, especially with the sheer size of the place and when he saw the bedroom he whistled softly under his breath.
"Gosh, it's a bit bigger than mine!"
It was, so this was the understatement of all time.
As I retrieved all my clobber from my haversack and laid it out on the bed Tom was busy looking around, especially at the photos. The inevitable remark came. Another gosh preceding it.
"Gosh, Jacko, you and that boy look very much alike." He was pointing at Piers.
"I know, everyone says so, and there's another one downstairs in the drawing room which they say is even more like me."
Tom eyed me quizzically.
"Tony told me that dog thinks you're that boy."
"He can't," I said emphatically, "Piers was killed in the last War and Bran is only about five years old."
"It's odd," said Tom, "I have the feeling you belong here."
"What's that," I said, rather disdainfully, "Your Scottish grandmother's second sight coming out.!"
He snorted. "You heard that from Dunc did you?"
"No, he's never said anything. But everyone knows about the stories up in the Highlands. I heard a story on the wireless sometime about it. Anyway, why did you think Dunc had said something?"
Tom was silent for moment. "Just I know sometimes when things are going to happen. Like I knew where that dog was going to be."
I asked him to explain himself, but he wouldn't be drawn. I finished unpacking then put my things in one of the cupboards. To ease the situation a bit I showed Tom some of the things in the boxes. I then took out the three diaries and was showing them to him when he said the most extraordinary thing. He was looking intently at one of them.
"That looks just like your writing, doesn't it. And I know why he puts those extra full stops there."
He dropped the book on the bed and stared at me.
"It's OK Jacko, I just know. I like it here and it's just the place for you."
Oh, what on earth was Tom going on about. My handwriting was none too easy to read, but it did look a bit like the writing in the diaries! Then, I'd guessed what the extra full stops were for, but only after reading quite a bit of the diary... As far as I knew no one had said anything to Tom about them even being there.... But he'd seen them, and he knew. Then, why did he say he liked it here and it was the place for me? But, I knew I mustn't ask him any more yet. All in good time!
We cleaned ourselves up in the bathroom and after I'd shown him the other non-used bedrooms, especially the one with the African collection in it, we went downstairs. Tom was very quiet and, obviously, was taking everything in. Miss Pike was waiting for us outside the dining room.
"Have you found everything you need?" she asked Tom.
"Yes thank you," Tom said, then paused. "I think I've been here before."
What an odd thing to say, but Miss Pike smiled.
"Yes, you have. Mrs Fry just told me your father brought you to Ulvescott when you were quite small. He had to see Mrs Fry about something to do with police work and you disappeared off and was found in the kitchen here talking to Mrs Brown our cook. You wanted to see these rooms and you said you wouldn't mind living here. And now you are, even if it's only for a weekend. It's a start!"
Tom shook his head. "I don't really remember, but it does seem familiar."
Miss Pike laughed, "From what Mrs Fry said you must have been about four at the time so you've only got a fleeting memory of it. Anyway, you're here now and I hope you enjoy your stay."
She turned to me. "Surprise for you. Your friend the Duchess is coming to lunch tomorrow. So's her mother, so we'll have quite a gathering for lunch, what with Mrs Fry and her nephew and a couple of the Land Girls. You'll play beforehand won't you? You made quite an impression on Lady Bing last time."
Oh dear! Luckily I'd crammed in a couple of the new pieces I'd recently learned in my haversack. But before I could rush off to practise Miss Pike asked if we would get the wine up for the lunch tomorrow. I took Tom down to the cellars with the list and we soon found what was needed.
"Someone's been in here at some time," said Tom.
"What do you mean," I asked.
"Look," he said, "These scuff marks and some of the bottles have been moved 'cos the dust is disturbed."
I looked and saw what he meant. He moved some of the bottles and we peered through into the gloom behind.
"There's something here," he said.
There was too. There were several bales of cloth and behind them a little storehouse of tinned food and some other boxes. Two had bottles of whisky and the others cigarettes.
"Better tell Miss Pike," I said and Tom nodded, "You've got sharp eyes to have seen those marks. I bet this is to do with ex-Sergeant Higgs."
Tom knew about him as I'd told him about my help with the translations once when he saw me with a German book in my bedroom.
Miss Pike was thunderstruck when we told her what we'd discovered. I let Tom tell her because it was really his discovery. She said we'd better not touch anything as she would phone the police immediately. They took ages to come but they brought up quite a haul. The Sergeant in charge said he expected this lot would put that blighter Higgs away for quite a few more years. Tom was congratulated on his sharp eyes and when they were told he was Inspector Buchanan's son they said they weren't surprised and the Sergeant said did he think of following in his father's footsteps.
All this excitement had made us forget completely about the Scouts who were camping somewhere on the outskirts of the Manor grounds. Miss Pike had said in passing that there were two tents and, she thought, ten Scouts. Yeah, that was what I remembered I was told by Phil Crowe. Counting up I expected that as well as him, there would be Tony, Roo, Cleggy and the Foster twins and four unknowns. I suppose one of those could be Vince but I couldn't hazard a guess about the others. All would be revealed in good time, no doubt. Anyway I wasn't too bothered at finding out. If Lady Bing and the Duchess were coming to lunch I was a bit more concerned about having time for practice.
After the excitement of the find and the police arriving it was tea-time and I left Tom talking to the constable who had been told to stay to take statements and await a lorry to take the stuff away. I practised all the pieces I could remember, plus the two newer pieces I'd brought with me and had a go at some of the things I found in the piano stool.
I hadn't been playing long before I was aware that Bran had sidled into the room and was curled up by my side. Obviously wanting to be forgiven for the unseemly show we'd witnessed earlier. When I finished playing I turned round and saw that Tom was sitting silently on the chaise-longue at the side of the room.
"You're good!" he said, quite enthusiastically, "I liked those last pieces you played, had a bit of tune to them."
Ungraciously, I stuck my tongue out at him and stood up. Bran lumbered to his feet beside me and looked up at me.
"I suppose we'll have to forgive you for your undignified behaviour," I said, stroking his head.
He responded with a little 'woof' and Tom giggled.
"Don't take any notice of him, Bran," I said quietly, bending down to almost whisper in his ear, "He's a randy little boy and he does things to himself every day and to anyone else if he gets the chance."
"What's that you're saying?" demanded Tom, "Are you saying things about me?"
I looked up and smiled. "Bran thinks you're just as bad as he is. And he doesn't wish to witness you indulging in any of your activities."
Tom stared, then laughed. "Huh, from what you've told me he's seen you and the others plenty of times. That's where he's learned it from, you and those other dirty beasts."
I grinned. "Speak for yourself, I bet you'll be wanting something tonight."
"Do now," he said, "Leave that dog down here, I need a slash first... and so do you."
Crumbs, an order!
I closed the piano and followed Tom as he strode up the stairs. We entered the bedroom and he turned and locked the door behind me.
"Get your fucking clothes off," he almost snarled.
Tom wasn't one for swearing. I didn't say anything but shucked off my pullover, shirt and shorts as quick as I could. Not so quick as Tom who was naked moments before me. I saw his cock was erect as he stood up .Then, as I bent down to pull my second shoe off I was deftly picked up as a bundle and dumped face up on the bed. Tom loomed over me and spread my legs wide apart. He held me down by an arm over my chest as the fingers of his other hand, liberally coated with spit on the way down, rubbed around my hole.
"You're the one getting fucked now, my little Labrador," he said menacingly close to my ear as he put all his weight now onto me. The arm across me was moved and forced under me so I was clamped to him. His fingers, having located my pucker, drummed on the edge and I felt one finger being inserted.
"Relax," he said hoarsely, "I'm putting more in."
I flinched and as I did so a second finger entered me and the pair were pushed in further. And that was all that happened. I was suddenly released. Tom stood up away from, a most peculiar look on his face. I sat up a bit peered down and saw his erection had collapsed. His stiff, short prick, was now a limp, short stalk curved downwards.
"Oh God, Jacko, I'm sorry," he began, then knelt and held onto my legs while he openly wept. "I couldn't stop. It was almost as if it was someone else. It wasn't you I was trying...."
He leaned over me and clasped me round the back and lifted me to him and held me tight.
He was still sobbing. "It wasn't me and it wasn't you. It was that other boy and Piers. He fucked Piers I'm sure and he hurt him! I couldn't hurt you, you're my best friend. Please forgive me, Jacko, please?"
It was a heartfelt plea. I put my arms round him and we rocked together for some time.
"It's alright, Tom," I whispered, "I'm OK, and so are you."
As we held each other I had noticed our pricks had stiffened. I reached down and, with some difficulty as the pair together were thicker than they had been even a few weeks ago, grasped them tightly together and began to jack us both simultaneously.
Tom's sobs stopped and his laboured breathing soon began right beside my left ear as he rested his chin on my shoulder.
"Oh, God," he breathed out hoarsely, "Unh.., unh..., unh......., Unnnnh."
Four great squirts of warm spunk launched from his piss slit and landed up between us. I was very close now and as I pulled down hard on our combined hardons he squealed and I shot. Cum fountained up and joined his and we clung together. Two best friends, sharing a joyous moment.
Although I was lost in the wonderful feelings concentrated between my legs, but radiating out making me clench my arms around him, my thoughts were also racing. What did he mean? Piers and the other boy? Why did he say that?
Gradually we relaxed from the height of euphoria of our massive teenage orgasms. Tom nibbled my earlobe and I licked the side of his neck.
"OK, Jacko?" he asked, "Are you alright?"
Ummm was my only answer, I was still experiencing the feelings in the pit of my stomach and along my still erect cock as well as trying to make sense of what Tom had said. I thought it better not to question him too quickly but, instead, manoeuvred him so we were lying side by side on the bed, still stuck together with our shared spunk between us.
Tom stroked my back. "Thanks, Jacko," he said in a more normal voice, "That was great. Let's come to bed early tonight, eh?"
Horny bastard! Still, I was the same. And I knew how I was going to get him to pleasure me tonight? Those full lips of his were going to fit around my shaft without a shadow of a doubt!
Slowly we parted, both with silly grins on our faces as we surveyed the large, sticky splodges of spunk decorating us. I leaned forward and licked the tip of his nose, noticing his cheeks were still wet from the tears that had flowed. Again my big, hunky, tough friend had shown a soft, loving person underneath, but what had unleashed that demon? I thought I'd change the subject.
"Bet old Dunc hasn't had something like that this afternoon."
Tom snorted. "Bet he tossed himself off, though. Almost always does on a Saturday afternoon when he's home. He doesn't know I know but he shuts himself in the bog and I've crept up and listened at the door and he makes a real noise when he comes. He does when he does it in his room too and when we've done it together."
I laughed. "You ought to hear yourself, you almost sing God Save the King when you fire your wad, and that's like a twenty-one gun salute anyway."
He punched at me playfully, "If mine's a twenty-one gun salute yours is a whole battery..., boom, boom, boooo...m. Watch out Jerries, Jacko's ack-ack will get you..." He cupped his hand round his mouth. "Germany calling, Germany calling," he went, in a less than passable imitation of Lord Haw-Haw, "This is to announce the loss of one hundred of our aircraft, shot down over Ulvescott by a mysterious barrage of white tracer shells in a savage attack by the enemy power."
He collapsed in giggles. I was not so overwhelmed, but rather proud that my prowess as the arch-producer of spunk was so recognised. I suppose I'd better keep up the charade.
"I might see if when I have a bath I can launch a couple of depth-charges and sink a couple of U-boats," I said.
Unfortunately, I'd meant a couple of orgasmic eruptions but dear Tom, of course, was misled.
"Go on, your farts wouldn't sink a rowing-boat. Now, Johnny Prosser's the one." He giggled again. "He let one off, full rip, in class once. Lucky for him old Campion was opening the window at the time and was making a row so didn't notice. We did and old Campion thought we were laughing at him and gave us all a hundred lines to write..."
I interrupted him. "...I have no wish to know about Johnny Prosser and his noisy interventions, we have enough trouble in our class with Cleggy and that fool Peter Fry. They have competitions as soon as the bell goes and the beak leaves the room. And they stink," I added.
I thought it time to get up and make ourselves presentable for dinner. I also wanted to see if I could glean any clues about Tom's strange behaviour from Piers' diaries. Although I had glanced at all three I had only read part of the first one in any detail.
"Bags I wash first," I said, disengaging myself and hopping off the bed. I ran into the bathroom and was running water into the basin before sluggish Tom had rolled himself off the bed. After sponging down my front and washing my cock I changed the water and washed my face, hands and under my arms. I smelt a bit better after that and as I dried myself Tom came through the door. I pulled the plug and stood back. I wrinkled my nose as he went to the sink.
"You stink, mucky boy," I said sternly, "Wash yourself carefully 'cause we don't want those Land Girls smelling your stuff, do we?"
Tom stiffened. Not his cock, but his body!
"What girls?" he started, then remembered. "What are they like?"
I reiterated what I'd already told him about one of them being Julia Ward's friend and that Miriam was the nicest. I then added he needn't think they would be interested in his little boy cock.
"You're much too young for them," I said, "Now if it was Dunc, or ...."
I jumped out of the way quickly as he threw the loofah he'd just wiped down his spunk-spattered stomach at me.
"I'm bigger than you," he said, "I look more than my age, that's what everyone says."
I picked up the loofah which had landed harmlessly by the door. I smiled sweetly.
"You might be bigger than me that way..." I indicated height, "But they're much more interested in what some boys have which is much bigger than what you have...
Like me..."
"Cheeky sod," he said and lurched toward me.
I threw the loofah at him and scored a direct hit on his chest. Instinctively, just like the good rugger player he was, he caught the object cleanly as I scuttled out into the relative safety of the bedroom. Tom did not pursue me so I carefully dressed myself to make myself presentable to the massed ranks of the Land Army - or the two or three to be present at dinner- as well as Mrs Crossley and Miss Pike. I was just combing my hair into its usual parting when Tom came through from the bathroom. His cock was at half-mast.
"Jacko, I'm ever so sorry...." he started.
I waved a hand. "Don't worry," I said placatingly, "It must have been something to start you off like that."
Tom nodded. "Funny, It was almost like a dream."
"I expect you wanted it very badly."
He shook his head. "No, I was going to wait till tonight and then when I got in the room I wanted to do it straightaway. I couldn't help it."
He came over and stood by me as I stood in front of the mirror on the dresser. I saw his eyes flick between my reflection and the picture of Piers on the wall by the dresser. Neither of us said anything and he went and started to get dressed as well.
"Will you play me those last two pieces again when we go down?" he asked.
I smiled. "Of course, I like them too. One's a piece by Brahms and I'll play it tomorrow for Lady Bing. She knew Brahms."
Tom's face was a picture. "Gosh she must be old. Mum's sung his German Requiem last year in the cathedral and Dunc went but I didn't. He said it was good.
Funny, Mum said some people complained because it was German but Dunc said it was music not war and she said she agreed."
I thought about that. I'd heard a Beethoven symphony on the wireless a few nights ago and he was German. Odd, about the war. I then explained, again, about Lady Bing and her daughter. Tom said he was a bit apprehensive about meeting them. I said they were people like anyone else. He just made a face.
While he was finishing sprucing himself up I went downstairs, to be met by Bran who guided me into the drawing-room and sat by the piano. I played through the pieces again and as I finished there was a little round of applause. Two of the Land Girls were sitting on chairs, either side of Tom, who was rather red in the face. I didn't have time to comment as Miriam stood up and said dinner was just about to be served as she had seen Mrs Brown going into the dining room with a tureen.
Of course, Tom was cross-questioned by the girls during dinner. He got over his initial embarrassment and got on very well with the sharp-tongued Elizabeth, who, naturally, knew the Briggs and had heard of Duncan, the Head Boy of Kerslake Grammar School. An important personage in girls' opinion. The find in the cellar was another major topic of conversation but Bran's escapade was not mentioned. So, soon after dinner had finished, Tom and I said as were tired we would go up to bed.
Tom was rather quiet as we undressed and washed but he grinned as he saw me tuck my trusty towel under the pillow.
"You'll need that tonight," he said as he slid into bed first.
As I got in he grabbed me and held me tight.
"I want you to do it to me properly tonight."
Although he was in the Boys' Brigade he followed the Scout motto 'Be Prepared'. He fished under his pillow and brought out a small jar of Vaseline. I knew what he wanted and spread the towel under him as he slithered into the centre of the bed. He greased my cock, which got very rigid especially when he touched my oh-so-sensitive knob. I felt below his balls and found his rosebud and then dipped a finger in the jar and returned it to smear him ready.
I positioned myself over him and he raised his legs around me. I bent forward and licked under his chin which made him groan and I felt his short, fat, solid cock twitch against me. I licked him again several times, each time he groaned or grunted and the muscles of his legs on either side of me twitched in unison with his prick. I nuzzled first his right nipple and then his left. I glanced up. His eyes were closed and his mouth wide open.
I moved down a bit and positioned my cock at the gateway. I felt for the entrance and pressed one finger in slowly. He opened readily so I quickly joined that first intruder with a second finger. He was so relaxed I couldn't believe it. As I worked my fingers back and forth, forcing them apart, I licked his nipples alternately. His chest was heaving and he was beginning to pant. I judged the moment then, aiming my cock, I pressed the knob end where my fingers had just left. He gave a long sigh as I entered him and in one long movement I pushed all the way in. He didn't try to stop me or make any movement which indicated that I might be hurting him. In fact, he laced his hefty legs around my back and raised his back a little so I was able to press in as far as I could go. The muscles around his buttocks were now also twitching rhythmically and without any effort from me my seed was milked from me in a matter of a couple of minutes. I came quietly but copiously, my prick gripped and released alternately by his powerful muscular spasms. Finally, I saw his face contort and I felt my cock squeezed as if in a vice, as with a series of primeval grunts he erupted with masses of his teen spunk squirting uncontrollably from the end of his cock.
For the second time that day I was clasped and held tight to him. He was gasping for breath and my shaft was still hard and fully in him. He started to clench and unclench his buttocks again. I reciprocated and slid my cock a little in and out. That was enough. His movements speeded up and within another ten minutes I shot again just as I thrust as deep as I could into him.
We lay still for ages until my cock started to soften. I moved down, careful not to get any debris on the sheet and walked, somewhat unsteadily, to the bathroom where I washed myself. Tom was still on his back when I returned so, instead of my intent to have his lips clamped round my rod, I gently took his foreskinned knob into my mouth. I must admit I had to open my mouth very wide because my friend Tom's prick was getting quite thick as he developed.
I pushed his foreskin down and licked and sucked his bare knob and, with my hand, squeezed the base of his cock. It wasn't long before his moans of pleasure got rather loud and his second load of the evening squirted from his reserves. I swallowed most of his spunk greedily but kept enough to put into his open mouth on the tip of my tongue as I shifted up his torso.
He accepted my gift of his spunk and clutched at my arm.
"Oh, thanks, Jacko, that was wonderful. You'll do that again, won't you?" he whispered, throatily, but with passion.
I licked his very prominent Adam's apple. I think all his muscles twitched as I did that. His hand clenched my arm so hard it hurt, but I didn't mind. If he thought that what had happened was all my doing he was wrong. I, too, had had a most memorable experience. We had undergone something which had sealed a great friendship of mutual love and respect. Love in that rather special way which two, very close male friends can have and, even at our tender age, were beginning to realise. Admittedly we were extremely sexual, we were teenagers, but we both knew that this burgeoning sexuality helped to cement a friendship which would last.
Tom also left the bed to wash himself down. He was quite a while in the bathroom and I was snuggled down cosily reviewing the wonderful feelings I'd had that night when he returned.
"You shot enough spunk up me just then to drown old Adolf," he said as he got under the covers again. "Keep that up and we would win the war - you could be our new secret weapon."
I remonstrated with him saying I preferred being in bed with him rather than that mangy little man with the toothbrush moustache. He apologised and said he agreed. He said he would miss me if I was dropped with the next load of bombs over Berlin. With that he switched out the light and we dropped off to sleep.
Whit Sunday
I woke Sunday morning well before seven o'clock with a raging hardon. Three times yesterday and I was ready for more! However, I just lay there thinking about the events of the day before and the urges wilted. I was still puzzled about Tom's outburst and why he had mentioned Piers and another boy. I sidled out of bed and pulled the heavy blackout curtains back as silently as I could. Tom snored on. I went to the cupboard and got out the three diaries.
I flipped through the ones for 1916 and 1917 because I realised I had read a good deal of those, but not in great detail, when I was counting up the wank marks, but, it was while I was leafing through the one for 1915 that I solved the puzzle. I noted that at Easter Piers had someone named Gordon staying here at Ulvescott with him. Matt at the time had commented on the high frequency of crosses and then, on the Wednesday after Easter 1915 on the seventh of April, I found the answer. The entry there was cryptic.
'Gordon wrestled me and...'
The rest of the line was crossed out heavily. There were no crosses that day. On the Thursday a single entry. 'Gordon decided to go home as he was worried about his brother in France.' Two days without an extra full stop or any other indication. I looked at the rest of the week. Gradually from one extra full stop until the next Monday when there were three. Piers was recovering from Gordon's onslaught. Then I found something else. At the end of the diary were a list of names. Schoolmates I guessed. The one crossed through was Gordon Thomas! Thomas - my Tom and his peculiar behaviour - a coincidence? Should I tell him? Surely he hadn't read that entry in the short time he'd been looking at the diaries. In fact, I remembered he had looked only at the second one which he had dropped on the bed when he had noted the use of the wank code.
I decided not to say anything. At least while we were at Ulvescott. I might ask him when we got back to Kerslake. I didn't want to upset him and it did seem strange that the memory of what he tried to do seemed to fade so quickly. He hadn't tried it again and our bedtime exploits last night were focussed on him and my more than willing participation.
To be continued: