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.
ALADDIN'S AWAKENING
By
Joel
CHAPTER 38
Monday October 23rd 1944
I was not ready for school again. I had slept so soundly I hadn't woken up in time for a run. Trying to finish off the homework the night before must have tired me out, plus the most satisfying wank I had before settling to sleep. I thought I'd set out in good time for school, then remembered when I was half way there that the precious homework was still on the desk in my bedroom. This meant I only just got in the gate when the school bell went. Greg Hall was on prefect duty but waved me in and I scuttled into the Fifth Year lines just in time. The rest of the day seemed just like that. I commiserated with Matt during the afternoon break as he said he felt the same after such a wonderful time down in Suffolk.
Of course, Mrs Tring wasn't pleased because I hadn't practised enough and I made a real pig's ear of an arm bandage at SJAB under the critical eye of Mr Halloran. Even Pete Fry seemed uninterested in staying afterwards as he said he had to hurry off home. I could have done with a friend's hand on my cock for a nice relaxing wank. Matt had cycled off with the now Fourth-Former and also young Kanga. Pat Halloran had disappeared as well, I think he'd gone off with Johnny Reed in tow. What a bloody day. Not helped when I got home and found I hadn't picked up an essential text book for Old Mother Riley's English grammar homework. What the hell were zeugma, litotes, tautology and hyperbole? Give three examples of each!! Hyper-bollocks!!!
So, I was not in a very good mood when I went to bed but consoled myself and felt much happier by remembering back to those most wonderful times I'd had with Lachlan. And, as I clenched my buttocks as the spunk shot from my slit, I thought of the way we had sealed our friendship once more and imagined feeling his beautiful prick pulsing in me at the same time. At least, I had good memories, even if everyday life stank!
Perhaps I was overreacting to my awful day and withdrawal symptoms of some sort but I woke early and got ready for my run. I clasped Piers' medal in my hand before I set out. I would have liked to have carried it with me but my running shorts had no pockets and I didn't want to lose it. I felt much better when I got back and Ma had thoughtfully provided a birthday card for Flea which I filled in, quite innocuously in the greetings, but I included a folded piece of paper saying I was looking forward to seeing him at New Year and I hoped we might have as good a time then as we all had had at Pin Mill House- and to give my best wishes to Lachs, Potty, Bastable and any one else!! I also enclosed a note for Captain Harrison thanking him for Piers' medal.
What did happen that day was that during lunch hour Nobbo and Cleggy cornered me and said they had plenty to tell me and they wanted to see me after school in the Biology lab, without fail!!
I was intrigued as I guessed it might have something to do with their scientific investigation over the amount of spunk produced by horny boys. By the time I got to the lab there was one horny boy all ready as I'd been thinking about it all afternoon! I opened the door cautiously but they were alone, just clearing up the debris from a Sixth Form dissection of a rat, I think. At least, there was a distinct smell of formalin and I saw a skin and some bones being put in a brown paper bag by Cleggy who had a smile on his face.
I was greeted warmly as he shovelled the remains in and sealed the bag before disposing it into a larger paper bag ready for the caretaker to remove. He said Nobbo was getting things ready for the next day in the storeroom but there were some things for me on the teacher's bench.
There I found a fifty cc glass beaker and a fifty cc glass measuring cylinder.
Nobbo appeared from the storeroom about a minute later as I was studying the drawings of the innards of the rat on the blackboard. "Thought you weren't coming," he said, "Just a minute, I've got to get an eye out for tomorrow."
I winced. What did he mean? Not to worry. He appeared a few moments later bearing a large model of an eye which he plonked down on the teacher's bench. Cleggy then disappeared into the storeroom and came out bearing a large glass cylinder with two ox eyes dissected out and displayed in full glory in it.
"That's that," said Nobbo, moving the two objects together on the bench, "And now to business!"
Cleggy snickered. "Got some results in already," he said, "But we aren't going to tell you anything until we get your data in as well."
'Data'! I was a guinea-pig! Like others unknown at the moment.
Nobbo then pushed the beaker and measuring cylinder towards me. "You know what you have to do," he said in a very business-like manner, "The method you suggested works very well. Just make sure the things are cleaned out properly and they are dry before you provide the next sample."
"Data" "Sample" The lads had obviously been reading up on experimental method! Next sample? How many? When? Where? Cleggy grinned at me and waved a piece of paper at me.
"Look," he said rather enthusiastically, "We've sorted out what you do and how you record it." He picked up the beaker. "Make certain you have this ready to catch the whole sample." He emphasized the word "sample". He picked up the measuring cylinder. "Add exactly thirty ccs of water to the beaker. Swirl it round." He demonstrated with the empty beaker. "Then pour the lot into the cylinder. Do the calculation of the difference and enter it on the paper."
Nobbo took over. "Look, you put the date and time and then the amount.
Quite easy. OK?"
I nodded. Wank - water - swirl - pour - measure - calculate - write!
"And don't forget to clean the cylinder and the beaker before the next sample!" said Cleggy emphatically. "Tom forgot and had a hell of a job getting dried up whatsit out of the cylinder!"
Oh, so Tom Buchanan was a wanking co-worker!
Nobbo came over to me. "Have you sorted out what's needed? We suggest once a day. The reason is Hal's results were all up the creek at first 'cause he wasn't measuring every time and he confessed he was doing it in between."
Cleggy laughed. "Nobbo wasn't just getting stuff ready for tomorrow just now, he was providing another sample. Eh, Nobbo?"
Nobbo grinned. "Number eight," he said, "I'm going to go to ten. But we've asked everyone to do at least eight."
"Are you OK, Jacko?" Cleggy asked. "Do you want a practice? The storeroom's OK. No one'll come in. Old Harry won't be around until after five o'clock."
Old Harry was the caretaker and I certainly wouldn't want him bursting in on intimate moments. But could I produce spunk on demand? Indubitably. Both Nobbo and Cleggy were quite forthright about it. All three of us knew we indulged frequently and, of course, had indulged numerous times together so I wasn't worried about them. But, it was a bit clinical... I would try.... I grinned at them, picked up the two containers and went into the storeroom, shutting the door.
Needless to say, I already had the makings of a hardon from the conversation. I took my blazer off before shucking down my trousers and pants and tucking my shirt up under my pullover. It was a matter of moments before my ever ready dong was erect. I held the beaker in my left hand rather gingerly as I began a slow steady wank. As I felt the inevitable surges down below I clamped the beaker over my now naked knob end. I shuddered. It was not only cold but it made my oh-so-sensitive knob really throb. I shot my usual copious load. I squeezed my prick to make sure I milked every last remnant of the spunk into the receptacle and waited until that last drop ran down the thin string of come and finally that and the string plopped into the beaker. I held the cylinder under the tap and measured the thirty ccs as accurately as I could. I poured it into the beaker and mixed the two fluids as thoroughly as I could. The milky come dispersed in the clear water, but I noted strings of thicker clear fluid as well. I had never looked at my come at such close quarters. I was fascinated. But, I had a scientific study to participate in so I carefully poured the conglomeration into the cylinder and waited until every last drop had fallen. I looked at the markings. Thirty-six point two ccs. So, I'd produced six point two ccs. Quite a substantial load.
I put today's date and the figure by its side on the piece of paper I had been given. I dressed and then washed out the two receptacles, shaking them vigorously to dispel any remaining droplets of moisture. I opened the door and went back into the lab to be confronted by two grinning idiots, like two of the three brass monkeys, sitting on two lab stools just outside the door.
"Heard you grunt!" said Cleggy, "Knew the experiment was successful!"
I made a face at him and was about to hand the piece of paper to Nobbo.
He shook his head.
"No," he said, "You keep it until you're finished. Better for us not to know results in between. Will eight be OK? Anyway, Friday week, please!"
Cleggy pointed at the beaker and cylinder I was carrying. "Please be careful with those. Hal's already dropped a beaker and smashed it."
I was curious.
"How many have you got doing it?" I asked, thinking that with my and their certain knowledge that every boy in both Fifth Forms was wanking regularly they would have a very large sample there for a start. They both grinned.
"Knew you would ask that," said Cleggy. "We could have got dozens I expect but there are eight at the moment. It's really because that's all the beakers and cylinders we could pinch without anyone noticing. As long as most come back we'll be OK and then we might give them out again."
Nobbo answered my next question before I'd asked it. "Can you only do it once a day?" he asked, "I told you we had trouble with Hal. He wasn't measuring every time and I found he'd done it twice in between all in one day."
Hal was doing it four times a day. That figured. I knew he was a randy young devil - but so was I.
I promised. It was going to be interesting anyway. All my co-wankers had commented on the amount I shot. I wondered if I could persuade Matt or Mike to also join the experimental group!
When I got home I secreted the two containers below my clothes in the second drawer of my chest of drawers. Safe there. No wank in bed tonight. Save it up for after school tomorrow. Good boy!
The next week went quite smoothly after that horrible first day. I measured carefully one outflow each day except for Monday when I was too busy even for a wank. That meant a double load for Tuesday. Surprise, surprise, there was only just over seven ccs on Tuesday afternoon! Because of the missed day I only had nine results to report on Friday, one up, though, on the eight requested..
Tu: 6.2; W: 6.0; Th: 6.1; F: 5.8; Sa: 6.2; Su 6.8; Tu: 7.3; W: 6.1; Th: 5.9.
I worked out the average as 6.27 ccs, over six and a quarter! I proudly presented the sheet of paper to Nobbo at break-time on Friday. His eyes lit up when he saw the figures.
"Gosh, Jacko!" he said admiringly, "That's a lot more than anyone else."
"May I see the others?" I asked, getting my English usage correct.
Nobbo grinned. "Next week sometime. We've got two more so that'll be ten in the group. I can tell you some people don't produce much, but they all say it's enjoyable!"
Ho, Ho, I wondered who the whole group were. I guessed, me, Cleggy, Nobbo, Hal, Tom and Pete Fry, that would be six. I wondered if they really had the Foster twins as they were also Scouts and lived near Cleggy, and he was always chatting to Alan. Still, mustn't speculate, all will be revealed. In due course!
In fact, I hadn't seen much of Tom during the week, other than delivering a few of his papers most days as I finished my run. He seemed much more content and I knew he was concentrating on school work because his mother had said to Ma she was surprised how diligent he had become since his brother left to go into the Army. She said she was very proud he was taking on responsibility in the Boys' Brigade. I thought Tom was very responsible. I liked him very much and I'd promised Dunc I would help him with his school work if necessary.
Matt was also working hard. He'd definitely decided to try for the Naval College for next year because I'd heard him discussing this with Lachs when we were in Suffolk. Just as Lachs wanted to go to the Military Academy to train as an Army officer so Matt wanted to go into the Navy. Ma was very pleased with his efforts at the French Circle on Wednesday and I thought that Roo and Tony, too, were improving very fast with their language skills.
So the next week passed with plenty of homework and a resumption of my twice daily wanks. I wondered if I might measure every one but had returned the apparatus when I'd finished my required stint. I did examine the evidence either in the sink or on my stomach and chest each time and thought that my general daily output must be a bit in excess of a single wank per day. I would have to ask Nobbo and Cleggy about it to see if there was anything in any of Cleggy's dad's textbooks.
On the Tuesday of the next week I was button-holed again by Nobbo who asked if I could meet them in the Biology Lab after school to go over the results. Of course, I wanted to know all about my schoolmates efforts so I agreed readily.
I had to wait in the lab while they set out four microscopes and boxes of slides ready for a Sixth Form class the next morning. They both had self-satisfied grins on their faces when they finished and plonked down next to me on lab stools. Nobbo produced a single sheet of paper.
"You can check our calculations," he said, "We think we have to leave you out as you will see."
I scanned the piece of paper where columns of neat figures were listed under initials. I realised the Foster twins, AF and BF, were there and decoded JR, PC and PF as Johnny Reed, Phil Crowe and Pete Fry. This was confirmed when I asked. Crafty Tom was there too. I hadn't seen anything of him other than on his paper round in the mornings so he'd been beating his meat once a day for science. I could only guess what Dunc would have said about that! Ten columns and ten totals with averages as the final figure. I scanned down. Nobbo, Hal and Cleggy had provided ten samples, me nine and the rest, eight each. While the pair watched I totted up each column, ticked the answers and did the division and found all was correct. Underneath were two further figures. An overall average for the ten of us and an average for the nine excluding me.
AC: 3.8
GC: 3.3
HB: 3.9
TB: 3.4
JR: 3.7
AF: 3.0
BF: 2.8
PC: 3.0
PF: 4.0
JT: 6.3
I saw that without me the average was 3.44, but with me it went up to 3.73. If the average quoted in the book was three and a half, nine or ten horny boys were near enough average either way I thought. What surprised me was that I was way ahead. Not a surprise, everyone always commented on it. I wondered though how much I shot when I painted the headboard with Lachs and Flea. I also wondered how much I must have produced each time I had planted my seed deep in Lachs or in Andrew. Those times I must have drained unfathomed wells which had been occasioned by such intense feelings of sheer love and passion and contentment. My copious outpourings into the beaker were the mechanical release of my daily production. Still, I'd had wonderful thoughts and feelings each time with these but not the profundity of emotion which overwhelmed me on those other particular occasions.
"It's OK, isn't it?" said Cleggy, breaking into my ruminations. "We're all OK, aren't we?"
"Except for him," said Nobbo, giggling. "Crumbs, more than twice as much as Phil and Alan. Where does it all come from?"
I knew little about the basic physiology. "Same place as your meagre output," I said, haughtily, noting that Nobbo's 3.8 was well above the average. "I'm just more efficient in my production line." I laughed. "What does it say in the textbook?"
For the next twenty minutes three inquisitive youngsters pored over the description of the production of spermatozoa in the testicles and the valuable contribution of the prostate gland with seminal fluid and so on, getting bogged down with all the technical terms and the lack of any really specific information on how the whole caboosh came together in the moments of joy experienced so regularly by the three of us and every other boy in the universe. As far as the textbook was concerned ejaculation occurred as a reflex action to stimulation. I wanted to know how it all worked but the book was very sketchy in its explanations.
"I suppose it is only an introductory text book 'cause that's what it says in the title," said Cleggy rather despondently after trying to fathom out from the plethora of Latin terms what actually goes on. "Perhaps we might find more in one of the other books. This one's rather old, published 1912. Dad must have had it when he was a student. He's got heaps of books so I'll have another look." He looked at Nobbo and pointed at the book. "Do you think we'll have to learn all those names, vas deferens, epididymis, prostate, urethra and so on?"
"Looks as if you've learned those already," I said, impressed.
"Only 'cause they're attached to his cock!" said Nobbo laughing. "But we have learned quite a few bits. We've learned muscles in the hand and arm and there are loads of them. His brother says when you do a real dissection it's much easier 'cause you see them as you cut them out."
"Yeah," said Cleggy, "We'll have to do a complete body in eighteen months."
I winced.
"His brother says it's not as bad as it sounds. You just get used to it. Old Colesy is getting a load of dead rats in for us to do after Christmas just like the Sixth Form have done. Don't tell the others in case some of them are a bit squeamish. We helped Mr Coles lay out one of the rats last time he got a demonstration ready for the Sixth Form. You have to be very careful how you cut. It's great!"
Wow. We'd inspected innards of rabbits already done in jars but to do it ourselves to rats. Wow! A second time.
"And what are you going to do with the results?" I asked, holding up the sheet of paper.
"It was scientific interest," said Cleggy. "If you read something in a book you want to know if it is true. That bit seems to be but we think those German boys were either lying or reluctant to tell. I think we might ask people to keep count next!"
I wouldn't mind them knowing my score but I wondered if a teacher or doctor asked me whether I would tell the truth? I knew my year's total and also those three for Piers. I still had to ask Tony what his was. I wondered if any other of my friends also kept a count. I doubted it, although Pat Halloran did know for confession!
So, I told them my score and also what I'd found about Piers. "Bloody Hell!" was Nobbo's response to hearing Piers' totals. I said they could ask Tony and Cleggy nodded as he said he knew he had been keeping count.
Well, well, well. It seemed that healthy, young Kerslake boys were producing the right amount of vital fluid. Nobbo and Cleggy were starting well on a scientific career, I thought. They wanted to be doctors and they were exploring things already.
Wednesday November 15th - Sunday December 3rd 1944
Things were going on at home I'd noticed since the wedding. Ma seemed much happier and disappeared into Pa's study most evenings after supper. Pa didn't divulge what was going on as he was always busy scribbling on pieces of paper with formulae and calculations. Still, I was content to get on with my school work, interspersing that with satisfying wanks, alone or with Tom or Matt who both now demanded help with their maths especially. I heard no more from Nobbo and Cleggy about their collection of data but I did ask Tony after French Circle what his year's total was. Six hundred and thirty-seven. So he'd beaten me! I think Tony and Roo were a bit miffed when I told them about Nobbo and Cleggy that they weren't asked to be involved but Matt looked quite uninterested in the enterprise. Roo did say that young Kanga had settled down and was now very friendly with Benno's brother, Jimmy. He waggled his eyebrows as he said this so we assumed he meant they were wank-buddies now. In fact, on the next Monday Jimmy appeared with Kanga at the Ambulance Hall and joined the group. I didn't say anything when Matt and I used them as guinea-pigs for splinting and bandaging a compound fracture of the femur but did say I was glad he'd found a friend. He reddened slightly and I don't think that was caused by me squeezing his leg just above his knee at that moment!
Ma was overjoyed when we heard on the wireless that Strasbourg had been liberated on the twenty-fourth. She wondered how long it would be before she could contact any cousins or old friends. We also had another letter from Uncle Alfred which we deduced had been sent from Belgium as he did manage to escape the censor with a Biblical reference after his 'God bless, Alfred' at the end. He put 'Proverbs 6: 6'. Pa looked it up in the Bible in his study and it read 'Go to the ant thou sluggard; consider her ways, and be wise'. As Pa was a crossword addict he said this was simple, it was Antwerp. He said Uncle Alfred loved English slang words and had said to Pa when they were students in Strasbourg he'd never heard the word 'twerp' in the States so a 'sluggard' would be a lazy twerp, coupled with 'ant', 'Antwerp'! So, we were wise!!
The other big event was the marriage between Mike's sister, Bridget, to Peter Leo Pontifex, on the first Saturday in December. We were having the contingent who stayed the last time. Mike moved in on the Thursday afternoon and the others arrived on Friday.
I had loads to tell him when we went to bed. In fact, we lay side by side, idly stroking each other's arms and chests for ages, while I recounted my trip to Suffolk and my wonderful new cousins. I was about to start on the encounter with Lachlan in the boat-house. I wasn't going to give all the details but at that moment he clamped a hand over my mouth.
"Shut up for two minutes," he said with a chuckle. "You've changed so much in the last year, in fact, you're becoming quite loquacious in your old age. Anyway you've had a marvellous time, haven't you?"
I nodded as best I could and put my hand up to remove his from over my mouth.
"Sorry, Mike," I said contritely, "Pa said I rabbited on when I got home after the summer holiday. But, I've had such an interesting time. I think I'm very lucky. I just get fed up a bit sometimes, though."
Mike put his arm round my shoulder and hugged me.
"I'm only pulling your leg. You really have plenty of news to tell me.
I suppose my life is a bit humdrum but I think I'm lucky too. I think it's this war which gets me down and I do feel alone quite a lot." However, he chuckled. "Go on, tell me more, I feel more cheerful already!"
What with being in bed with him and the back stroking, and now the hugging little Fido had grown into big Fido. I pressed myself to him and was aware that big Mike had gown into huge Mike. I put my hand down and felt that hard, ribbed shaft. Mike breathed out through his mouth.
"Wait, Jacko," he murmured, "Not just now, we've got plenty of time."
I obeyed his injunction and continued with my tale. I told him how Lachs and I had talked and how he had said how much I had helped him resolve his uncertainties about himself by listening and talking to him.
Mike was nodding and he stroked my arm again as I said this.
"You seem to have the gift of friendship," he said. "You're friends tell you things they would never tell anyone else. Also, you are discreet. I'm not going to pry but I bet you didn't only talk with Lachlan." He moved his hand and stroked my back. I kept still. "I know you've helped Tom and Matt from what you've said. And you've been a good friend to me as well in a quiet way," he added in a soft voice.
Yes, I supposed I had been a good friend. He had sensed the same things I had discussed down at Pin Mill House. I listened and I never made any demands on my friends about their friendship. Reflecting about it I didn't think I had any enemies, none that I knew of. Even though I'd crossed swords with Henry Gale on two occasions I don't think even he bore me any ill-will especially after I had freed him from his bonds.
Mike was laughing quietly, his muscular chest was heaving against my more puny self. "I'll tell you another thing. You've grown a lot in the last few months. You're as tall as me now and I think I've finished growing." He pressed against me and I could feel our erect cocks side by side. "I think I've finished growing there too, but I doubt if you have. Fifteen, eh, gosh, you've still got some growing to do!"
I said my cousin Gareth was six feet two and my other cousins were not far short of that and Pa was over six feet, as well. I said my new cousins were very short, but Lachlan was very well-equipped and both he and Flea were very horny.
"One track mind you've got," Mike said, digging his fingers into my back. "Still, when I was your age that's all I thought about."
"And what about now?" I asked.
"Quite a bit still," he chuckled, "But I've plenty more on my mind at the present. I've got to study hard for Higher School Certificate and I've got to think about what I want to do in the future. All that keeps other things well in the background."
"Hunh," I said, "You just mean you're old and past it!" I jabbed my finger into his arm. "You're eighteen in three weeks time and that's ancient!"
"I can still give you a run for your money, young lad," he grunted.
"Let's see," I said and grabbed down at his tool. "My, my, you can still get it stiff, then, at your age!"
He giggled and wriggled but I held firm. "Shut up, you little fiend!"
I shut up. The best way I knew. I flung the bedclothes back and burrowed down the bed and caught the end of his long, hard shaft in my mouth. I sucked and licked while he oohed and aahed and tried to catch hold of my head. Suddenly his thigh muscles jerked and streams of his thick cum poured into my mouth. I stopped sucking and just held his bare knob end in my mouth on my tongue. I tried to keep as much of his outpourings in my mouth until his spasms stopped. I slid up the bed while he was still lying, mouth open, breathing heavily and deposited a film of his thick, sticky juice over his cheeks.
"Ugh," he gurgled as I stuck my tongue into his open mouth and pushed the rest of his spunk onto his tongue and teeth.
I moved to his right ear. "That's all yours, 'returned to sender'!"
I had seen this written on an envelope in the post the other day. Ma had written to a wrong address!
He recovered pretty quickly for an old man! Eighteen to me was old. Gareth was well over eighteen but.....
I was grabbed and a sticky tongue was forced into my mouth. A strong hand gripped my tool and with his other arm round me holding me still and tight I was jacked off quickly and efficiently my six ccs of today's spunk shooting up between us. Good job I'd had the forethought of putting that towel between us! It was my turn to gasp. We lay joined together with the streams of my spunk and fell asleep.
Of course, we had to be up and ready for the wedding which was scheduled for twelve noon. Mike disappeared off before nine after having had a substantial breakfast - to get his stamina back I whispered - as he had to go to confession because it was going to be a full Nuptial Mass and he was a crucifer. Odd that, being able to wash away a so-called sin with a few words to a deaf priest - as long as old Father Herlihy was there - and saying a few prayers. I would have to ask him more about it at some time because all I did was carefully wash the dried spunk residue off my torso and I was clean!.
Bells and smells was how I'd heard a Catholic service described. It was too, but the music was good but it did go on for a long time. Pat Halloran was swinging the censer and gave me a beatific smile as he passed me going back up the aisle. Mike looked very solemn carrying the shining silver cross. I recognised Bernie, Mike's friend, who was carrying a large red-bound book. Peter Pontifex , the groom, looked very handsome in his Guards dress uniform. He was Staff-Sergeant now and Bridget was all smiles too as she walked back on his arm. There were more smiles as the piercing yells of young Joseph Michael Eamonn Quinn echoed round the church as the bridal party left.
The wedding breakfast in the Parish Hall was hilarious. There was plenty of food and, also, plenty to drink. I had a couple of glasses of something or other and sat and had the giggles while talking to Mike's other sisters and his friends. They giggled too. The 'grown- ups' did more than giggle. There was an Irish band later and everyone, including us youngsters joined in the dancing. I don't know what time things drew to a close but I know Pa, Ma, and Mike's elderly relations were packed off in a taxi. Sometime, a bit later, Pat and I found Mike, pissed out of his mind, in the back room with various male relatives and friends, also in a fair state of inebriation. Pat and I steadied him and walked him home to our house with his arms flung round our shoulders and murmuring about how beautiful his sister looked and what a good husband Pete would be.... As I knew Pat had been keen on Bridget I thought this was a bit much.
Luckily, I had a key to the house, as all was quiet when we got there. The trail of shoes and coats told us the oldies had arrived home and were safely, query, query, in bed. We hoiked Mike up the stairs and between us stripped him and put him on one side of my double bed.
Pat and I undressed in double quick time and, as I was curious, he showed me his recent, now-healed, operation scar. I said his hair was growing back nicely as he still only had a meagre bush above his cock from after his operation. He said all seemed OK now and he hoped to start rugger and boxing again in the Spring Term. As he had drunk nothing and me just enough to arouse my ardour we were both in a highly randy state especially as I had held his prick to the side to see Mr Symes' handiwork more clearly.
Once in bed I gave him the same treatment as I had given Mike the night before. He came quickly and copiously in my mouth and whispered in between tongue-fucks he'd never been sucked off before. Even if he hadn't been and hadn't sucked anyone in return he proved to be an extremely quick learner and my cock was expertly licked and sucked and gave forth a day's emission readily. We tongue-fucked again and about half an hour later we were head to toe giving each other a second, slow, sensuous suck.
"Jesus, Mary and Joseph," was Pat's heartfelt declaration when his and my heart-rates had settled and we were lying more peacefully side by side, "Where did you learn that?"
I said very quietly I had found it to be a good way of sharing friendship. He put his arm round me and hugged me tight.
"I wish I had more friends like you," he said with grave sincerity. He was quiet for a moment. "Have you done that with him?" He nodded to the comatose figure of Mike whose only contribution to the ecstatic interplay of two boys twice over had been an accompaniment of stertorous deep breathings and slight snores.
"Yes," I said, not willing to admit to fucking as well.
"I wish he wasn't so gone in the drink," he said, "I would want to do that to him. He's been a good friend to me and with that lad on him....." He paused and giggled. ".....How do you fit that in?"
"With difficulty," I said, leaving any hint of which orifice undeclared.
We settled down and slept. I was awoken about six o'clock by a warm feeling between my legs. Warm lips were caressing my morning hardness. Slowly I worked myself around and indicated I wanted his cock as well. Slowly and even more sensuously than the night before two boys were as one and what seemed ages later two boys shot forth their morning loads into willing, urging mouths. The slow, deep breathing carried on beside us. We shared our spunk and slept again. It was well after nine o'clock when we awoke again. We got up, peed and washed quietly. Nothing stirred in the house. We breakfasted on toast and honey alone and then Pat said he'd better get off home to see if his father had managed to get home as well.
I went back to my room and did the rest of my weekend homework. I looked at Mike's peaceful figure from time to time and only wished the three of us could have participated together the night before. Pat so obviously idolised Mike it was the greatest of pities when given such an opportunity he couldn't have given his friend so much pleasure. Still, I think Pat had enjoyed those three encounters with me.
No one stirred until past eleven o'clock. Mike groaned and held his head. I went to the bathroom and got two aspirins for him. This was repeated half an hour later for Pa and the aged Uncle. The women, including Ma, seemed to have had harder heads! Tea, tea and more tea, seemed to be the cure for them. All said what a marvellous time they had had. I concurred. I hoped Peter had consummated his marriage with as much passion as I'd experienced three times that night.
That night Mike was all apologetic about the 'serial drunkenness' as he put it. Twice he'd stayed at our house and twice he'd been plastered! If I'd plastered his face with my come the first night that night I was coated from forehead to navel with the joint outpourings and much giggling as I had got round at last to recounting my efforts for Nobbo and Cleggy's data collection. He said he could vouch for my output as he'd witnessed my valiant attempts at putting out the fire... I shut him up by engulfing the head of his lengthy 'lad' and giving him the benefit of the Thomson vacuum.
As the relations staying at his were not leaving until the Tuesday morning I was subjected to more assaults on my spunk-producing apparatus on the Monday evening. And so was he and honours were even! He did make some remark that he didn't know what was more difficult. Coping with Pa's attempts at teaching him advanced algebra or dealing with the geometry of enclosing cylinders of rapidly increasing length and girth. Cheek. I didn't like to say I only wished we had the time and place for me to practice that last on an even more confining enclosure.
Tuesday December 5th - Thursday December 21st 1944
Term was rapidly coming to a close. There were several excitements. A minor one as far as I was concerned was being chosen as touch judge for the end of term rugger match between the First XV and the Catholic School. The major excitements for Tom and Matt were that they were chosen to play! Matt was all worries but Tom was prancing around like a dog with two tails. He was so pleased that he was following in his big brother's footsteps. He proudly told me he would be wearing all Dunc's old kit and paraded in it in his bedroom for me on the Thursday before the match. Whether it was the result of wearing Dunc's shirt, socks, boots, shorts and jockstrap but he was so incredibly horny when he stripped off again I gave him no more that a dozen or so strokes before he erupted, luckily over a discarded old shirt rather than the freshly washed First XV one he'd carelessly flung on the floor!
We won the match and Matt was a hero as he had not only been excellent as scrum half but he also scooped up the ball from a set scrum and, instead of passing it back, had hared to the line and scored right between the posts. Momentous!
At home there were two 'phone calls. One was from a fellow chaplain just back in the UK who said Uncle Alfred was OK and the second, for Ma, from the Swiss Embassy in London, to say a message had been received from a cousin, male, name unknown, who had got to Switzerland.
Pa came home with news on Wednesday. Chris Gardiner had arrived home quite unexpectedly. His plane had been shot at and he had survived but had a busted shoulder. He had been flying in Italy and had come under fire from a retreating German group. The Gardiners were overjoyed he was home, especially as he hadn't got to report back to the hospital for a check-up until after Christmas.
There was one mystery. On the last day of term Matt turned up at about seven o'clock in the evening with a brown paper parcel for Ma. I heard him say on the doorstep he wouldn't come in but that Julia said she was looking forward to the next chapters as she had no idea who had done it. I heard Ma say to him something about she must be patient and wait until after Christmas!
I nosed around the next day but couldn't find anything. I did find two small wrapped packages which I assumed might be Christmas presents for Pa or me!
To be continued:....................