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. Those so far have been very helpful in that they have given me the encouragement to persevere!
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 36
Part Two
Friday 29th September (Cont...)
Poor Pat. He was quite disconcerted. The bang on the head hadn't helped. Hernia. Circumcision. Headache. He closed his eyes.
I went round by him and held his hand and squeezed it a bit. "It's OK Pat. I was only joking. The doctor said he would get Mr Symes to do it at half-term." Pat nodded slightly and pursed his lips. "And he said no heavy exercise - rugger or boxing." He nodded again.
"I suppose I'd better have it done," he whispered resignedly, "I was born with it and should have had it done years ago."
He was laying quietly and I was about to go when Nobbo's mum came back in. She said he would be taken along to a room at the end of the corridor to be near the nurses' desk. If he felt sick or anything strange to ring the bell. She said that Dr Maguire thought he had a slight concussion and they would keep a good eye on him.
I said I would pass on the message and off she went again. I said to Pat I would be going and I hoped he would be OK. He put a hand out and I held it.
"Thanks, you're a good mate. Sorry if I've caused you any bother."
I said he hadn't and I would pop in in the morning to see him and he'd better rest completely during the night. He got my meaning and as I turned to leave the ungrateful lad gave me a vigorous two fingered salute!
On the way out I saw Mrs Clarke and she said she would leave a message for the day staff that I would be visiting him in the morning. And not to forget to visit Billy and the others at home in the afternoon.
When I got back to the Parish Hall the last bout had already started. I passed on the news that Pat was being kept in over night but no one seemed too concerned. Matt said he'd had to deal with another nosebleed and Johnny said he preferred being on the First Aid side rather than in the ring tonight because the visitors were a tough lot, but he was due to fight in a joint team with the Catholics nearer Christmas.
A run, breakfast, a chat in French, piano practice, homework, helping Pa sort out newly dug potatoes in the shed, oil my bike chain. A typical Saturday morning for a growing boy. All this before eleven o'clock when I set off to visit Pat. He was in a separate room like Cleggy had been in when he had his circumcision. He was lying down but seemed quite restless.
"Thank God you've come," he said after I'd greeted him and asked how he was. "Oh God, if I don't do it I'll go barmy. I mustn't get out so would you pass me that face-cloth from over there on the sink?"
I didn't ask, I knew. I got the face-cloth and handed it to him. He immediately put it in the bed with him. There were a few rapid ups and downs under the covers, then a sigh and a look of sweet contentment on his face. A pause then some slower more deliberate movements. He looked over at me and grinned.
"D'you mind washing it out for me, please?" he said and winked. "Thank God, I couldn't have waited much longer."
He drew out the now-folded face-cloth and I took it over to the sink and washed it out. Naturally, I unfolded it first to have a look. Umh, quite a goodly amount, but then, he hadn't had a wank since...? I was just finishing rinsing it when the door opened and a head popped round. It was his opponent, Pete, from the night before.
"Can I come in?" he asked rather shyly, "I had to see how you were."
Pat smiled and beckoned him in. "I'm OK," he said, "Bruised chin and a sore head that's all."
The lad's worried look went and he smiled too. "Oh good," he breathed, "I didn't sleep much last night. I'm sorry I belted you like that but I just let fly!"
I thought I would try a little diversion. "Where shall I put this?" I said, holding up the opened out face-cloth, "Over here, or do you want it back there?"
Give him his due, Pat went slightly red. "Over there," he said curtly.
The other lad laughed. He knew.
"Don't worry about me," he said, "First things first." He grinned across at me. "He's improving, eh?" I grinned back.
After that the two lads got on well. The other lad was a farmer's son and worked for his father. He said the hard work on the farm kept him in trim. He was seventeen, just a bit younger than Pat. I left them to it, the last I heard was Pete inviting Pat to visit the farm and see what it was like.
As soon as I'd had lunch I cycled round to Nobbo's to see Billy. Mrs Clarke had gone shopping so I followed Nobbo, who had answered the door, up to his room. As well as the three of them, Cleggy was also there. Billy was in full flow and Nobbo told him he'd better start again telling us all about barrack-room life as he'd missed the beginning and I'd only just arrived.
"Hi, Jacko," said Billy jovially, "I started off because I didn't want to sully my brother's little ears with some of my tales."
"Oh, shut up, Billy!" said Nobbo, "I know enough about you, dirty beast, so don't tease us like that."
Billy made a face. "Oh, Oh, touche," he said, "So where had I better start?"
Cleggy laughed, "You were just going to tell us about the 3 F's."
Nobbo butted in, "What's the three F's?
Billy held up his hand, "Hold on, everything will be revealed, as the actress said to the bishop."
"What's that?" demanded Nobbo.
"Oh, just a saying. Now, shut up and listen!"
Nobbo and I had perched ourselves on the edge of Nobbo's desk while Cleggy and Hal were sitting side by side on the bottom bunk. Billy was sitting on a chair he'd moved away from the desk. Billy turned a bit to face Nobbo and me.
"I'd only just started so I won't have to repeat many things. I'd just told them about our intake at the training camp. As I just said there were about two hundred of us all arrived together on that Thursday and we were herded into squads before being sorted out properly that first weekend. That's as far as I'd got, so I'll tell you a bit more about that. Of course, we were all in civvies and that first night was chaos. We were marched to the cookhouse and had to collect our eating irons, tin plate and mug first and we were warned never to lose them or we wouldn't be eating food in the future. This was about five o'clock and then we had to parade for an FFI and checks on who we were."
"What's FFI? You said three F's," demanded Nobbo.
"Oh, shut up, Nobbo, they're different. I'll tell you all, now wait!" Billy was getting a bit edgy with Nobbo's constant interruptions.
"Now, FFI means Free From Infection." Nobbo was about to say something like "What's that?" so I jabbed him in the ribs with my elbow. He took the hint.
Billy went on, "We were all lined up with all these clerks checking us off. I was in the A to C lot and that was chaotic as some blokes didn't even know what letter their surnames began with! We got issued with dog-tags as well." He opened his shirt and displayed the two red discs round his neck on what looked like a leather bootlace. He laughed. "Got to remember your number till you peg out, 722 Private Clarke, William, that's me."
He pulled the dog-tags off over his head and handed them to Hal, who looked at them and passed them to Cleggy as Billy continued..
"Then as we finished with the clerk checking our details and handing those out we then had to go and line up to be inspected by a pox doctor's clerk" He looked at Nobbo, "That's what you'll be, I expect, in the RAMC, Medical Corps." He laughed, "Before we got to him some sergeant told us to drop our trousers and pull our pants down. You can imagine it, a line of us, shuffling along holding our trousers round our legs with one hand and holding up our shirts with the other. Then this bloke lifts your dong with a little stick and riffles through your short and curlies with it - and before you ask 'Why?', Nobbo - it's to check if your dick is dropping off with the pox and to see if you've got lice or other creepie-crawlies elsewhere." We looked at each other with looks of horror on our faces. Billy laughed, "It's true. The bloke next to me was told to go to another table and the last I saw of him he was stripped bare with three of them giving him a full examination with rubber gloves on." He looked at Nobbo and me and then Cleggy. "Bit of the old full kit inspection, eh?" We laughed.
"Why do that the first night?" asked Hal.
"Well, you wouldn't want anyone with creepy-crawly crabs in the bed next to you, would you? That's why."
He looked round at us all, all rather stunned. I scratched just above my prick. Crabs? Thinking about such things made you itch. Billy laughed and pointed.
"Jacko's worried."
I wasn't the only one, both Cleggy and Hal were having a little squirm.
"Better get on before you're all inspecting each other!" laughed Billy.
"God, all that took hours and we ended up in some barrack room, about twenty of us, just herded in and left and told lights out at ten and reveille would be at six in the morning. Nobody said anything, we went to the latrines, undressed and went to bed. Then the first of the three F's!"
He looked round at us. "Three F's, farting, fighting and, if I dare say it in this mixed company...," his voice dropped to a whisper, "...fucking!"
We were hanging on his words. F, F and F!
"First of the F's" he went on, "If one of them farted then at least half did. No other sound, just the poop, poop, or the more daring raspberry - I thought it used to be bad enough at camp but this was horr ren dous!" He laughed and we were giggling a bit.
"It died down and I just dropped off, exhausted, to be woken what seemed like two minutes later by this bloody bell. Six a.m. Sergeant at the door banging it with his cane, 'Stand by your beds!'. Some of us were in pyjamas, some in just their undies but four were standing there bollock naked, one of them with a hard-on. The sergeant came in, went up to him, tapped the end of it with his cane and it wilted. "Can't have that, can we, soldier," he said and shouted out some incomprehensible order about get washed, breakfast six thirty, parade at seven, and then he marched out. And it went on from there."
He paused for breath. We were agog.
"More?" he asked. We all nodded.
"Phhh," he went, exhaling, "What next? Oh, breakfast, then uniforms. No measuring, some bloke looks at you and goes off to the racks and comes back with tunic and trousers, another bloke dishes out shirts, pants, socks and the real humdinger is boots. They did ask what size, I said I took size ten shoes and a large pair of boots came whizzing across the table. We were then marched back clutching all this lot and told to change into uniform. What a shambles! At least my jacket and trousers fitted. Both shirts looked like bell tents and the socks were huge. Luckily with the thickness of the socks my boots fitted." He bent down and fished under the bunk next to him and drew out a pair of very highly polished boots. "There you are," he said, proudly, "My pride and joy. Cost me sixpence to have them done like that."
Nobbo was just about to ask another question and got another jab from me.
"It was a shambles," he said, putting the boots down beside him, "Sleeves too long, trousers too short, waists too big and so on. The sergeant came back in, took one look and said something about 'those fucking tailors' - that's the third F, more later. We all got marched back to the uniform stores and the sergeant bellowed and the blokes were still handing out stuff to the rest of the intake but he made them change things until some fat bloke with crowns on his arms came out and the two of them had a shouting match. It didn't matter 'cause all the changing still went on and other sergeants joined in because their squads weren't being dealt with. I managed to pinch two more shirts and pairs of socks and pants while no one was looking."
Nobbo managed to ask a question before I could jab him again. "Why were your lot in first?"
"Because we were in the A to C's and had the barrack-room nearest the stores."
"Oh," said Nobbo and relapsed into silence, for once.
"After that it was all downhill," said Billy, laughing. "We had to go to another stores for other kit and after lunch we had injections and smallpox jabs." He drew up the sleeve of the khaki shirt he was wearing. "Here, have a look." There was a small circular, slightly red patch on the upper part of his arm. "Had one when I was a kid but they did it again." I nodded, I already had a smallpox vaccination mark as well. "Those other jabs were lethal. We were told we didn't have to parade on the Saturday morning and no wonder.
Some of the blokes seemed almost delirious and I had a dreadful headache. During the afternoon a doctor came round to check on everyone and said we would be OK in the morning."
"And were you?" queried Nobbo.
"Within reason, dear boy. May I continue?" We all nodded. "Later Saturday afternoon a clerk came round with a list and we were told which training squads we would be in. They divide you out by religion, about twenty to a squad, one to eight were C of E, nine, the one I was in, were Dissenters and ten was R.C."
"What's all those, then?" asked Nobbo.
"Oh, Nobbo, you should know. C of E is Church of England and R.C. is Roman Catholic, then there was us lot, Methodists, like us," he said, counting off on his fingers, "Baptists, Sally Army, Quakers, uuuh," he paused, in thought, "Oh, Church of Scotland, Christadelphians, Brethren, other Protestants and Jews. All put together and we were the Dissenters, not Church of England." He looked round. "They had to tell us on Saturday because there was a compulsory church parade on Sunday at nine o'clock and after that we had to go to our proper barrack-rooms."
All rather complicated, I thought. Odd, dividing up by religion. What would I be? I couldn't say I believed anything. Ma and Pa never went to church although Ma's dad had been a Reverend Professor. He must have been Protestant as I knew Roman Catholic priests mustn't marry. I would have to ask Ma sometime.
"Anyway, we're all divided up, about twenty to a squad, there were twenty-two in ours and twenty-five in the RC's - more of them - someone said they breed like rabbits and have large families, true, isn't it? - ah, and then there was the second F, fighting!"
He paused for breath again and looked round at his captivate audience.
"Fighting! Saturday night some of us were feeling better and went round to the NAAFI. They only have beer in there on a Saturday night and there were about ten of the Catholic lads, half and half Jocks and Liverpool Irish from the sound of it and they must have had a few each. Next thing to happen was the Jocks belting the Irish and the Orderly Sergeant came in with a couple of the guard and got them outside and back to the barrack- room they were in. They were quiet for about ten minutes and we were all back in ours next door to them when all hell was let loose, they were at it again. They might be all Catholics but the Jocks and the Irish just don't mix! And, I tell you this, you don't want to get in the way of a Glasgow kiss!"
"What's that?" asked a puzzled Hal for the rest of us.
Billy laughed. "It's a head butt. Straight between the eyes. Vicious! Two blokes were out cold that night and just lay there." He grinned at us. "Ended up with one bloke too lazy to go to the bogs pissing straight out of the window and just missing the Orderly Sergeant who was coming back with more of the guard to quieten things down. There were six of them marched straight to the cells and it was quiet after that. Funny, next morning when we were all getting ready for the church parade their padre came early and was laying down the law in their room - we could hear him next door. He said he wasn't having any of them to Mass and communion without confessions now, this minute! One of our lot went and had a peep and said they were all kneeling by their beds. At least, we weren't fighting!"
"What about the third F?" asked Nobbo.
"I'm coming to that, just wait," said Billy with a grin. "Trust you to want to know about it." He grinned, and shook his head. "I never knew that every word and every sentence could contains so many fucks! Not so much our lads, very few of us actually swore at all, but the Catholics and most of the others, well, you've never heard anything like it. 'Get the fuck on parade', 'abso-fucking-lutely', 'where the fuck this?' and 'where the fuck that?' - just went on all the eff-ing time as the Jewish lad in the bed next to me said. Then, of course, the general topic of conversation is fucking. What they'll do to their girl-friend when they get some leave, or what they've done already. I don't believe half, no, a quarter of it. I bet most of them have never wetted their whistle anyway. Best just to keep quiet."
"Didn't your squad swear then?" asked Hal.
Billy shook his head. "No, quite a few were quite religious, but they were all OK. We just listened in amazement to the others, especially that lot in the barrack-room next to us. They never stopped. Couldn't understand half of 'em, had thick Scots accents, Glasgow someone said."
Cleggy wanted to know what training he had to do. Billy snorted.
"Marching up and down, Eyes Right, salute, then march up and down again. Shambles again. Some of them couldn't get the hang of right arm with left leg and so on. At least the Sally Army lads and me knew how to march! Hunh, and then we had to be issued with rifles for rifle drill. Three of our squad refused to touch a rifle, the two Sally Army lads and the Quaker. They were marched off and last we heard they were going into the Medics. I missed one of them, he was great fun."
"Anything else?" queried Cleggy.
"If by anything else you mean what I think you mean, then, no," Billy said with a grin. "No one ever mentioned wanking or anything, except one bloke did say he hadn't had a hard- on since he joined up. Story is they put something in your tea, bromide or something. Too tired to do anything I think's the answer - though..." he paused, "...I think the chap opposite me got the fidgets one night. All I know is that I had no desires for at least a week and then I had to slink off to the latrines for a crafty one." He looked round at us and waggled his eyebrows. "Noticed others slinking off too!"
I think we were too boggled to ask any questions on that matter. Billy was grinning to himself.
"Of course, there was that film they showed us!" He waited for effect.
What film? He enlightened us. "This film showed you what happens when you shag girls who are none too clean!"
"What do you mean, 'none too clean'?" queried Nobbo.
Billy laughed more. "You get VD, Venereal Disease. The pox, syphilis, clap, gonorrhea, you name it. That film's a real frightener. They show dicks with great suppurating sores, holes in them, bits missing. Then balls with huge ulcers full of pus, ...ugh, it was awful! Some blokes fainted and had to be carried out. I watched it but I did feel a bit sick when they showed this bloke with half his face missing 'cause it'd been eaten away by the pox. So watch it, young Nobbo! You be careful what crevices you poke your knob end into! And you others, just watch it!"
The descriptions made us all writhe a bit. What with the lad with the creepy-crawlies and now the images of rotting cocks, Oh gosh! I thought of Matt's certainty he'd caught the pox when he found a hole in his foreskin. This all sounded a thousand times
more gruesome. However, I noticed Cleggy nodding knowledgeably.
"Saw a couple of pictures in one of dad's textbooks," he said, "They were horrible."
"You didn't show me," exclaimed Nobbo, "Why not?"
"Because we haven't read all that stuff yet," said Cleggy, airily. "We're still reading the introductory textbooks."
Nobbo still looked a bit miffed but Billy started to laugh again.
"I shouldn't have told you all that I suppose but you'll find all that out sooner or later! Anyway, I'll tell you this, there are some dafties about. The squaddies next door always ran out of money by Tuesday. All of them smoked like chimneys and they liked a drink or two, or three, on a Saturday - so by Tuesday, no cash. Ciggies are eight pence a pack so some of us would lend them eight pence a time and after pay parade on Thursdays they paid back ten pence." He laughed. "And not one of them twigged it was twenty-five per cent interest for two days. One of our blokes said he wasn't surprised 'cause his father had been a pastor in Liverpool and said the tally-man came round every week to most of the Irish to collect the money owed on goods bought plus the interest."
Billy wasn't finished and by the grin on his face I thought there must be something interesting coming.
"Hey, Georgie, did you know it's an offence in the Army to have a tattoo?"
Cleggy shook his head and said he didn't and anyway their gardener had been a soldier and he had tattoos all up his arms.
"Yeah, but as long as nothing goes wrong it's OK." He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "D'you know what the lads were having done?"
We all shook our heads.
"Yeah," he said, "Some of them had the name of their home town tattooed up the side of their dicks."
"You haven't have you?" a rather startled Nobbo asked.
"I'd be all right with Kerslake, wouldn't I?" he said with a grin not really answering the question. He went on..."There was a lad from Norwich, he was OK, and another who just managed Sheffield." He looked at us goggling at him. "The lad from Cornwall was glad he came from Looe and as for the Welsh lad from Aberystwyth, you could only see the Aber bit on a cold day..." He pursed his lips, "..And the Jewish lad in the bed next to me came from 'ackney!"
There was silence, until Billy cackled and Nobbo burst out, "You're pulling our legs!"
"Caught you, didn't I," chortled Billy, "You were all wondering if Kerslake would fit you. And you, Hal, you were born in Bishop's Stortford, so think of that! Have to do it round yours in a spiral, eh?"
"Fool!" said Nobbo, "So, how much of the other stuff do we believe now?"
"All of it!" said Billy, "Yeah, the rest is OK."
He then said he had finished his basic training and, like the rest, was now ready for posting to other units. Most of them would be going to infantry battalions, some to the artillery, others for driving, or for signals and such-like, but he'd been chosen to go on a Sergeant Tester's course with two others. We wanted to know what that was and he explained that when you got called-up you had to go to the Recruiting Office where you had a medical and took some tests. A Sergeant Tester supervised these and marked them and sent the results on with all the other documents. Cushy job was the general opinion. Trust Billy to land something like that!
Billy was just going to start another tale when we heard Mrs Clarke downstairs. We all trooped down and she looked proudly at her tall son, not very military looking, though.
"I suppose he's been telling you all his adventures, eh?" she said laughing, "Don't believe a word!"
We all laughed and Cleggy said he knew Billy of old so everything had to be taken with a pinch of salt. Billy gave him a thump in the back for that, but Cleggy only laughed.
Anyway, we had a good tea and Billy just described a few things including sitting in the NAAFI one evening when a bloke came along and asked him and the lad he was talking to if they would read a letter for him he received from his girlfriend. They found out the bloke just couldn't read so they went through it with him. When Mrs Clarke was in the kitchen he said the chap often asked them to read letters from her after that and also to write notes back. Billy said, very slyly, that they made up some bits pretending the girl had written them and also put some very rude things in the letters back. He couldn't say any more as his mum came back in so we would have to wait to hear what they said and put another time.
I thought about Billy's tales over the weekend and thought I wouldn't like to be called up. I just wondered when the war would end. Pa was always glued to the wireless for the nine o'clock news and all this week had been commenting on the fact that the Americans had made advances in Holland so things must be getting better. Ma, of course, was worried about Uncle Alfred as we hadn't heard from him, then Monday morning there was a letter from him in an American Forces envelope. He said he was OK and that he hoped to see us all soon. We couldn't work out where he was as there was no address to write back to other than a Forces Post Office. Still, Ma was a bit more cheerful.
Monday evening, after my piano lesson I was getting dressed in my SJAB uniform when Ma called up the stairs that I had a visitor. It was Kanga who was going to join. When we got to the Ambulance Hall Pat wasn't there. Mr Halloran said he'd been told to rest for a couple of days so another of the Senior Cadets took Kanga off to enrol him. We didn't see Kanga again that evening as he went off to work with the other young lad who'd joined recently.
I wasn't looking forward to the match on Wednesday and nor was worry-guts Matt. He'd come home with me on Tuesday to go over the maths homework. He was a bit more relaxed after our wank we had together and then even more relaxed when he found he did understand that one could construct a square equal in area to a given rectangle. But he was much exercised about the forthcoming game. Hero Matt, who'd played in a First XV game worried about the poxy Catholic XV? Non-hero Jacko was equally worried! I didn't let on, just put on a show of bravado.
The show of bravado was necessary as the Catholic lads looked an evil lot in their green and yellow hooped shirts. To boost our morale Rabbity had issued us with old First XV shirts, which for the most part looked as if they had come out of the Ark and smelt quite strongly of mothballs. We rampaged up and down the pitch and someone managed to score two tries for us. I was too busy keeping up with the pack to notice who. I did tackle one slippery customer from the other side in the first half and the ball passed to one of our side so I was pleased about that. At the end we had a drawn match so honour was satisfied on all sides. I was knackered. Ninety minutes of rushing up and down was worse than any of my runs and I also had a bruise where I had got in the way of another bullock (metaphorically, as I assume he was fully equipped) of a forward from their side and although I tackled him I landed heavily on the hard ground. Rabbity was actually full of praise for us but it didn't last because the next PT lesson, on Friday, was taken up with a full scale onslaught of boy torture, to toughen us up, as he said.
Saturday September 30th 1944
My fifteenth birthday!! I'd celebrated the ending of my fifteenth year last night with two slow, glorious wanks. This morning I woke very early and lay and luxuriated with the first wank of my sixteenth year. I didn't feel like running today. After I'd mopped up my creamy spunk I just lay there thinking about the past year. What a year! I'd had so many new excitements, thrills, dramas, delights, you name them, I'd had a packed year. I thought of my friends, old and new and thought I was a very lucky lad.
I got up and washed and dressed and was down looking for breakfast about eight o'clock. Ma was in the kitchen and was humming a merry tune. I heard Pa in his study and Ma told me to go and fetch him as breakfast was ready. In the dining room there was a little pile of envelopes. Birthday cards! I opened some just before Ma came in with a plate of bacon and eggs. Two eggs! Cards from Grandma and Granddad, Auntie Fay and Uncle Dick, one signed by the three boys, one from Uncle Edward and Auntie Della (signed that way!), and one from Lachs and the Flea (signed that way!). There was also one from Ulvescott which was signed Bran - but I recognised Miss Pike's handwriting on the envelope! There was also one with an American stamp. From my cousins, Chuck and Sam, in the States. Pa said I was lucky to get that as mail across the Atlantic was very unusual at the present time and they must have posted it ages ago and it had actually arrived during the previous week. They said they hoped to see me at some time as they'd heard about me from their dad.
I didn't think about it at the time but it was odd there were no cards from any of my friends. Nothing from Tom, or Matt, or Tony. Still bacon and eggs for a Saturday breakfast wasn't bad until I realised Pa was giggling to himself.
"Sorry it's a bad time, Jacko. Can't see any presents." He chuckled again and just then Ma came in with another pot of tea.
"Don't tease him, James," she said, pouring out another cup for each of us. "Happy birthday, dear. Once you drink that up you'd better go and have a look in the garage."
I looked from one to the other. We are a solemn family at the best of times, I suppose. I put the cup down and rushed out accompanied by laughter.
And there it was! In the garage! With a big label saying "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" A new bike! Just like Tom's!
I rushed back indoors and hugged and kissed Ma, then hugged and kissed Pa. Solemnity, my foot! Then I had other news. Eleven of my friends would be coming to tea. Pa said it was a bit like the Last Supper and Ma said don't be blasphemous and anyway there were thirteen there. I wanted to know all the arrangements and Ma said I wasn't to worry as long I did some piano practice and got my homework done! Couldn't I ride my new bike? Yes!. This was interrupted by a ringing of the backdoor bell. It was Tom, his face wreathed in smiles.
"D'you like it?" he asked as I opened the door to let him in. "Sean brought it round to ours yesterday afternoon and mum did the label for it."
Sean? Oh yes, the boxer who worked at the garage.
"You knew and never said!" I accused him.
"'Cause I did," he laughed. "That's what your dad and me were discussing the other day. I went and saw the chap at the shop because I knew he's got another one just like mine."
He came through to the dining-room and was offered breakfast which he wolfed down and I bet he'd already had some at home! I was let off the leash and told not to be late for lunch, as if I ever was! We went for a long bike-ride. It was marvellous - a drop-handled racer just like Tom's. Comfortable, easy to ride. Tom said I looked much better on this one. The other was much too small for me. We were well out in the country-side when Tom said he wouldn't mind stopping for a few minutes. There was an old barn or sheep-fold by the side of the lane and we parked our bikes and went inside.
"I've got something for you as well," he said, "But I bet it's not the first for your birthday!"
I knew exactly what he meant. I said no it wasn't as I had woken up early. He nodded and grinned.
"Ready, again, though?"
I was. He was. He fisted my cock. I fisted his. My first come with a friend of my sixteenth year. My second come of my sixteenth year. Ohhhh. If it was going to be like this.... ohhhhh.
Tom came in for lunch as well, as his mother and Mrs Ward were there helping Ma. I had clean forgot it was Matt's sixteenth birthday tomorrow and what about a card and present. Not to worry, Ma whispered that she had both. Thank God for mothers!
Then we had to get the dining room ready with the plates of sandwiches and the cakes and the jellies and the fruit for the visitors. Visitors? A group of rangy, hunky, skinny, brawny, and, no doubt all horny, adolescents, all older than me on this my birthday except for Nobbo and Benno. As well as them and Matt and Tom, there was, Mike, Vince, Cleggy, Roo, Tony, Peter Fry and Tim Parker. A good time was had by all. I had a card each from them and a puncture repair kit, bicycle clips and a red tail light from all of them. There was even a card from Kanga and Roo whispered he'd been miffed at not being invited!
I was so happy! In bed that night I just had to have two more wanks! My poor cock, I thought, if I carry on like this you'll be sore! Full of festering holes like Billy's cocks! I couldn't care less and woke up at two o'clock in the morning and had another! Wow!!
All that expenditure of energy didn't stop me going for a run on Sunday morning. I timed it so I would be able to help Tom with his papers. He was happy too. He had heard his promotion in the Boys' Brigade had been confirmed to take effect from his sixteenth birthday in November. Gosh, we were all growing up. Fast!
To be Continued:.....................