CHAPTER 28
Wednesday May 24th 1944
I was awake bright and early but decided not to have a run as I had to make myself really neat and presentable ready for the Empire Day Parade and I musn't be late for school!
I lay in bed for a while just thinking about the events over the weekend. My cock was as usual at full stretch when I slid out of bed but I decided not to have a wank. This showed how strong-minded I was, ha ha! However, I washed very diligently making sure I had no residual spunk-crust in my pubic hair from the night before and then dressed punctiliously in my SJAB finery.
Ma scanned me from head to toe as I went into the kitchen to get my breakfast.
“Not so fast!” she said as I sat down and began to put milk on the bowl of porridge in front of me. “Stand up and let me see you.”
Oh God, an inspection by one's mother at fourteen as if I were a kid of six. She was most thorough, commenting that I did look very smart but then spoilt it by examining the backs of my ears to see if I had washed behind them. My little temper was rising by then, but not to worry as when I turned to tell her I wasn't a little boy now she was grinning at me.
“You look very good, sehr gut!” she emphasised.
I smiled back. “May I have my porridge now?” I asked, “Before Goldilocks gets it?”
“You are getting very cheeky for your age,” she said, taking a swat at my retreating backside as I went to sit down. She missed, not like Billy or Mike!
I sat silently and wolfed down two bowls of porridge while she chatted on in German. I was realising more and more how much I really understood now. I found myself thinking in German as she was talking to me and as I finished the last mouthful I quite naturally carried on with the conversation. The language was now second nature to me.
In the end she told me, now in English, to go and get my things together for school and not to forget the pouch I had to wear carrying the tools of my trade as a certified First Aider. Gosh, I though, Ma's English is better than mine!
For once I was early for school and watched as a motley procession of uniformed boys came through the school gates, some on foot, some on their bikes, with others debarking from the smelly old bus which trundled in from the countryside after picking up the out-of-towners. As well as the usual big group of Army Cadets, who paraded anyway at school on Mondays, there were many Scouts, from various troops distinguished by their colourful neckerchiefs, a bevy of young First-Year Cubs, a group of Air Cadets, a small contingent of Woodland Folk, a batch from the Boys' Brigade - some with drums and bugles including Nobbo and Billy, quite a few in Salvation Army uniform carrying an assortment of instruments and we three, Benno, Matt and me in SJAB grey.
I was contemplating the scene quietly from my vantage point near the main door when it burst open and the khaki-uniformed figure of Henry Gale hurried through. A Henry Gale I hadn't seen before. His uniform was different in that he now sported a crown on the lower part of each sleeve and wore a red sash with a tassel over his shoulder and he was carrying an even smarter silver-topped swaggerstick than usual.. Danny Ross, in his Cadet's uniform, was standing very near me and I heard his hoarse whisper to no one in particular.
“Fuck me, I'd heard the rumour! Bloody Gale's been promoted to bloody C.S.M!”
My translation of these arcane letters to myself as Company Sergeant Major was accompanied by the noise of a general stir which subsided as the school bell sounded just at that moment. With that Henry was in his element. Duncan Buchanan was Head Boy and was normally in charge of this before-school assembly. But he, Duncan, who had followed Henry out of the door, but more sedately, was only in Boys' Brigade uniform whereas Henry was Military with a capital M! Duncan did have a slight smile on his face as Henry began to roar and order us all to line up in our groups and not in class order as usual. As this was unusual there was quite an amount of pushing and shuffling about which raised Henry's ire and the loudness of his roar.
“Get your idle selves sorted out!” he ranted, “Get into your groups as I told you, are you....” he paused and I mentally thought to myself, 'He almost said it!', “.....deaf!!” he continued. There was a general titter mainly from the Fourth Year upwards as they had also interpolated `fucking' in the pause. “Keep your mouths shut and get in three ranks!” he bellowed.
Danny came up behind me and whispered, “Get in three wanks, boys,” in a really effeminate voice not like his usual deeper tones.
He prodded me in the back and I turned and laughed, an action Henry spotted.
“That boy there!” he bawled, pointing the swaggerstick in my direction.
I was not going to be intimidated by a mere soldier when I was a life-saver. I turned as if he wasn't indicating me and pretended to see who was behind me.
“Boy! I'm pointing at you,” he stormed, “Get yourself in line with the others in your mob!”
That did it.
I looked him straight in the eye at a distance of several yards.
“Are you speaking to me, Gale?” I said in as loud a voice as I could muster, luckily it didn't break.
There was a sudden hush. A confrontation with the biggest feared arsehole in creation, or at least at Kerslake School.
Henry Gale was lost for words. At least for a moment or two. I don't think any one had ever dared speak to him like that. I had been polite, there was no tone of menace in my voice. There were plenty of witnesses. Henry's face went even redder than when he had been ranting. All he could muster was an almost quiet “Get in line”.
I walked slowly over to where Benno and Matt were standing one behind the other next to the Air Cadets. I made the third rank, or wank as Danny had said, and waited.
Henry swept up the front of the lines, fixed me with an evil glare and bellowed, “Attention!”.
Of course, his Cadets were expecting the command, the rest of us were not. In fact, it startled one lad, carrying a pair of cymbals in the Boys' Brigade band, so much, that he dropped one which clanged and clattered as it hit the asphalt and rolled to almost under Henry's feet. A burst of laughter came from those not in the Cadets. The Cadets had responded immediately, smartly drawing themselves up with a clatter of hooves, I mean boots. The rest of us, including the Air Cadets, made an attempt, with one of the Sixth-Formers in the Boys' Brigade clicking his heels and saying “Achtung, mein Fuhrer!” which elicited another rumble of laughter. Henry was not having a good day even with his new uniform and his new sash with a tassel. He cast a withering look at our end of the parade and went and stood in front of his Cadets.
Duncan, who had been standing all this time by the school door came forward in his Boys' Brigade uniform. He looked the rest of us over and had a wry smile on his face. In a very quiet voice he just said, “OK you lot, left turn and lead into school.”
We did just that, we turned and we three, Benno, Matt and I, led the motley crew into the school hall where Tim Parker, in his Scout uniform, was playing some welcoming rousing music on the grand piano on the platform. On the platform was the Head Beak, gowned and hooded this morning, resplendent in doctoral red, with Huggy and Van by his side in their black gowns and their MA hoods, Huggy's white Cambridge and Van's red Oxford. As we three were in first we had a grandstand view of the reaction on the platform. All three of the masters, Head Beak and all, were trying hard not to laugh. I guessed, and this was confirmed later by Tim, that they had witnessed the scene in the playground. Tim said he had been rewarded with a huge wink from Huggy when they had returned from their vantage point of a window overlooking the chaos below.
The Head Beak's visage turned to his usual vinegary look as we settled into our unaccustomed places.
“Mr Gale,” he called out, “Please call the troops to order.”
Oh God, is he playing up to him as well! `Mr Gale' - I think the Head Beak has a secret sense of humour!
Henry strode forward until he was placed centrally in front of the platform, came to attention smartly and saluted the Head Beak and turned to face the whole school.
Henry had also learned something of a lesson.
“When I say the word, draw yourselves up to attention,” he said much more quietly than usual. He paused. “Wait for it - 'Atten- shun!'”
Almost as one, Matt excepted, we drew ourselves up and put our feet together. Matt was staring at something when the order came so was a fraction late. Although Henry glared at him he forbore from saying anything.
“Thank you Mr Gale,” said the Head Beak with a nod in Henry's direction, “Now we shall proceed.”
He told us that school would go on normally until 11.45 when we should assemble on the school field in our various groups where we would be inspected by the Chairman of the School Governors, with the Mayor and others in attendance. We then had the usual hymns and prayers with Tim playing as loudly as possible.
After being dismissed from assembly we straggled off to our various Form rooms.
As Huggy swept in silence reigned supreme, but Huggy was in a good mood. The sight in the playground had obviously cheered him up. He cast his eye around. Everyone in the class was in some uniform or other. Huggy almost grinned. His eye fixed on Tim.
“Thank you Timothy for that uplifting introduction to the day and the superb way you led the croaks and cackles of the assembled denizens of this jungle...,” he turned and surveyed the rest of us, “...And also to others who have shed a little brightness on this otherwise drab existence of ours.”
He looked at me. I knew he had heard my response to Henry. Tim looked sour - he didn't like being called by his full name.
“In fact, you all look quite smart. You must congratulate your mothers on such a good turnout. The Colonel will be impressed.”
And so the day began. It progressed in fits and starts. At break time Benno, Matt and I were constantly asked if we would deal with imaginary ailments. We watched as two of the Cadets managed to corner the nasty Foster twin just as he was going into the lav where they held him and had his Scout shorts round his ankles until they were surrounded by his fellow Scouts and made to desist as they were intent themselves on some further humiliation of their own on the hapless boy. At last the bell went for the big parade.
It wasn't too bad. The lads in the Salvation Army band played a cheerful march very well as we lined up in our various groups. Henry drilled his Cadets up and down and Duncan set his Boys' Brigade lads in rows with the drums and bugles in the front. Then all stopped and the band played a quieter tune as the Colonel came across the turf in his old dress uniform with the Head Beak all gaudy and smiling for once, followed by the Mayor in his robes with the portly gentleman next to him in lawyer's wig and gown. I realised then he must be the Town Clerk! The school staff then filed onto the field and they all had their gowns and hoods on and most looked as if could have done with a good clean or at least shaken the chalk dust out. Still it did look colourful.
The Head signalled for the band to stop and Henry called his troops to attention. The rest of us looked on as the drums and bugles of the Boys' Brigade started to play and the Colonel made his way up and down the ranks of the Cadets.
When he had finished he faced us all and made a little speech. I can't remember what he said except for one sentence where he asserted we were a fine looking set of young men and he couldn't wait for this damn War to end so that he could see us all without those uniforms on.
I don't know if any of the others realised what he'd said - and probably didn't mean - but I had a mental picture of Henry Gale standing, bollock-naked, in front of his horde of stark-naked minions all with hefty hard-ons. I felt my own cock twitching at the thought and had to rapidly fix my gaze on the Mayor's chain of office to subdue my unruly member.
Then all was over. The band played 'God Save the King' and we were dismissed. In fact, I had been so inattentive I hadn't realised the Head Beak had said that school was over for the day. Of course, I joined in the three cheers not knowing if they were for King, Country, or for having the rest of the day off.
There was a general rush to get away from school. I lost sight of Matt but met Tom as he wheeled his bike out of the shed.
“Hurry up!” he said, “You can ride home with me as my personal medical attendant.”
Cheeky bugger. He did look smart though in his Boys' Brigade uniform and I thought if I ride home with him we might think the War's over and get rid of our uniforms. Needless to say, I got invited in. Tom said Duncan was going to work in the school library that afternoon to finish off studying something or other. So - we had the house to ourselves.
Tom found some grub in the larder and after scoffing that we went up to his bedroom. What an unholy mess. There were clothes all around. Tom explained that as Duncan was going off soon to join the Army he'd had a clear out and had dumped all his old things on him. Tom sounded most ungrateful - I hadn't been when I inherited most of Chris Gardiner's clobber.
“You're lucky,” I said, “I haven't got a brother to give me things, but I did get stuff from Chris Gardiner's Mum.”
“Yeah, but I've always had Dunc's cast-offs. Mum says I don't need new things when he's got things to pass on.”
A point I suppose but all this was wasting time.
I asked Tom if he'd noticed what the old Colonel had said. No! It had passed over his thick head! I explained in words of one syllable and described my mental images. This worked. We were testing out what it would be like for the Colonel when the War was over in the few moments it took to slip off our uniforms. We grinned as we stared at each other's nude bodies with rapidly rising hard-ons. Then we were testing out our boyish impulses very soon after with Tom holding my dick while I wanked him off over an old rugby shirt of Dunc's which just happened to be on the floor. My spunk joined his soon after - not flying it's usual distance because he bent my engorged shaft down, pointing it at the shirt, as my balls began to tighten up. I did, however, produce a very healthy outpouring as Tom held my foreskin right back and my knob end jerked massively as each squirt emerged.
As we were both slightly exhausted after that performance we laid on his bed side by side and chatted. Like Nobbo, Tom was not looking forward to his brother going away. He said he needed Duncan as he didn't really feel confident about his own school work. I put an arm over his shoulder and said if he wanted a younger brother to help him he could always have me. I think this reassured Tom as soon after he'd slipped down the bed a bit and was nuzzling my still rather sticky knob end. Soon after that we were both nuzzling each other's rapidly expanding tools as I crept up and turned round on the bed.
Gradually two very stiff rods disappeared into two ready open mouths and a quiet sucking was all that was heard for the next few minutes. I had just reached between Tom's legs and squeezed his balls and was running my tongue around under the rim of his knob when he began to twitch and then clamped his lips hard round my own shaft. He was about to come and he did, mightily. I coughed and spluttered as his warm juice jetted into the back of my throat. I jerked forward involuntarily, because of the suddenness, and rammed my cock well into his mouth and my ejaculatory mechanism took over. We both ended up coughing and spluttering.
I quickly turned myself up and around again and fastened my lips onto his and forced his mouth open with my tongue. We tongue-fucked for the first time and exchanged the remnants of each other's spunk His arms encircled me and held me so tightly to him I felt I was being crushed. We were panting heavily, drawing in great breaths through our mouths as our tongues fought for supremacy. My cock was at full stretch again and I ground it into his belly feeling his rough pubic hair on my exposed knob. The pain was intense and exquisite. Tom pulled his mouth away from mine.
“Wank me off quickly, I want it bad!” he instructed me.
Christ, both of us were so horny! As I turned away from him and felt for his prick he grabbed mine and, very roughly, began to masturbate me with long hard strokes. I soon had his prick in my fist and gave him the same cure for his wantonness.
My prick ached so much from the previous two massive outbursts I didn't know whether I was coming or not until the pain became so intense and I realised I had shot my third load of the afternoon. I was still frantically wanking poor Tom. He had come too as I'd felt his warm stuff spatter on my stomach just before I realised I'd come. Now he was desperately trying to hold my hand still but shot another load which sprayed right up into my face. This startled me so much I, mercifully for him, let go of his prick. He was moaning quite loudly and as I let go of his cock his hands immediately went to it to hold it and protect it from me.
He went on moaning for ages, well after I got my breath back I got a bit worried.
“Are you OK, Tom?” I asked.
There was a pause before he answered and before he did so he had clasped me again in his strong arms.
“Oh God, Jacko!... I've... Never... Had... It... Like... That!!” He was whispering, hoarsely, with great gaps between the words while he took a deep breath. Another pause. “That was wonderful!”
Crumbs, he'd shot off four loads in less than an hour with the last two in about five minutes. I'd shot three! Records for both of us? Horny wasn't the word for it. Me fourteen, him fifteen, young spunk machines the pair of us. I was too exhausted even to acknowledge him in words though my brain was racing. I turned and kissed him fully on the lips. He did the same to me. Big, hunky, sporty Tom. Two boys who really loved each other and what each could give each other! Being sucked and sucking another now seemed to me, after my experiences from Saturday onward, to be so much more pleasurable than a nightly, solitary wank. How I envied all those boys who had brothers who could give each other such pleasure. I began to whisper in Tom's ear.
“Tom, Oh Tom, I wish you were my brother we could do this all the time. It was wonderful, really wonderful.”
Tom was still breathing quite deeply through his open mouth and his lips were brushing round the rim of my ear. Then he began to nibble the lobe. Ah, no, don't say I'm getting another hardon. There was a definite stirring between my legs, but, no, it died down.
“Jacko, when Dunc's not here you can be my brother. Like I said I will miss him so much and I'll need you to help me! You will won't you?”
“Yes, of course I will,” I replied instantly, “Especially if we can do things like this.”
He snickered.
“Wait till we get to Ulvescott,” he said, “We'll see what we can do then!”
We lay side by side for ages just chatting again. I asked him about Duncan. He obviously loved and revered his bigger, older brother although I knew Dunc teased him a lot. In the end I asked him what he'd done with Duncan. It turned out they'd only wanked each other off, although they had done that plenty of times. I pressed him a bit because I wondered if they had sucked each other.
“Hey, Tom, haven't you and Dunc done it like just now?”
He shook his head.
“No, I've wanted to but I don't know if he would like me to do it.”
“Matt's done it to him,” I said. Oh dear, should I have said that?
Tom was rather startled. “I didn't know that. Was that at Fensham? I know they'd done things there.”
I'd let the cat out of the bag so I thought I'd better tell it just as Matt had told me. Tom knew about the embrocation but Duncan hadn't said anything about being woken up in the morning with Matt's mouth exploring his hard-on.
Tom listened carefully as I unfolded the tale. In the end he was giggling. I asked him why.
“Silly bugger could have it like that at any time. Funny he didn't say 'cause the night after he came home he came and slept with me 'cause he said he was sorry we hadn't been to Fensham together and then we wanked each other off. If only he'd said about Matt I would have sucked him. I bet he wanted it that way but didn't like to ask.”
“You could try it tonight,” I said.
He giggled again. “No, not tonight, I'm too sore. No, I'll wait until tomorrow night. We've got a parade at Boys' Brigade at seven and it's nearly his last one before he goes into the Army so I'll go in his room when we go to bed. It'll give him a nice surprise!”
Oh blast! Tomorrow night I will be in own bed alone with Tom and Duncan a couple of doors away giving each other such pleasure.
After more chat we got off the bed and sponged ourselves down in the bathroom removing most of the external evidence of our unloaded spunk and wiped ourselves on the rugby shirt. Tom brought the shirt back into his bedroom and rolled it into a ball and put it in a heap with other dirty washing. We had just looked each other over - me back in my SJAB uniform and Tom now changed into his after-school clothes - when we heard the backdoor open and heavy footsteps come up the stairs.
“Where are you, Tom?” Dunc called as he reached the landing, his voice sounding menacing and loud even through the closed door. “Come here you loathsome reptilian creature! Come on out you forgetful, creeping abomination!”
Tom looked at me, then clapped his hand to his mouth, eyes wide and staring.
“Oh God, I'd forgotten! Dunc asked me to wait and collect some books and things for him from old Campion! He asked me specially to get them! He'll kill me.”
“No he won't,” I said, rather bravely. If I'd stood up to the biggest arsehole in Kerslake already today I could intercept the much milder Duncan's wrath and deflect it. I walked to the door and opened it and went through. The wrath was deflected already.
“Oh, it's you Jacko. Where's that misbegotten brother of mine?”
I smiled. “In there quaking in his underpants!”
“And you in your uniform?” He smiled back.
“He's fully dressed,...” I paused, “...Now.”
Duncan's smile expanded, he sniffed, “As usual?”
“What do you think? A free afternoon, no school....”
“And me working my.....”
A figure appeared at the door, interrupting Dunc's flow.
“I'm ever so sorry, Dunc, I forgot, but I met Jacko coming out...”
“Don't blame Jacko for your lack of brain you snivelling little....”
“Hold it, Duncan,” I interjected, “You shouldn't say things like that to your brother. He said he's sorry and I think you should accept that. He's my friend and I don't think he's a snivelling anything. He thinks you're the best brother anyone could have!”
Duncan roared with laughter.
“Sorry, Jacko, You're all wrong. He's the best little brother I could ever have. He knows I shout at him. It keeps him awake. Don't worry, he knows I'm all bark and very little bite! Isn't that so, Tom?”
I turned to Tom. He looked at me, rather sheepishly, and nodded.
I looked at Duncan again. He laughed and continued.
“You're a good friend to him, Jacko... ...and brave. Not many would have asked our Henry a question like that this morning. The Head asked me if you were young Thomson after Assembly this morning as he'd heard and seen everything.”
“I know he knew 'cause Tim Parker told me he was looking out of the window.” And that was interesting. The Head Beak knew who I was!
“Yes, and Henry didn't know what had hit him when you said that to him. He was breathing fire and brimstone in our Common Room at break. You'd better watch your step, young Jacko. The dragon was really hissing steam!”
“Why should I be frightened of him?” I asked, “He's only another boy!”
“Yes, too true, but he could have made life a bit difficult for you if he wasn't leaving school at the end of the week.”
“He's what?” I said, almost in chorus with Tom who said “When?”
“Oh yes,” said Duncan, “ ”He's off up North somewhere next Thursday for his call-up so Friday this week is his last day at school and his pals are taking him out on a pub crawl that evening.”
“Are you going with them?” asked Tom disapprovingly. “Mum wouldn't like that.”
“It's OK Tom, I'm not going 'cos I've got my last parade, but it should be quite entertaining. I bet they've something cooked up for him.”
“Yes,” I said, “George Abbott told us he thought something was planned.”
Duncan's eyes narrowed. “How do you know Georgie?”
“Oh, Matt and I have been going for a run with him and Greg Hall on Wednesday afternoons.”
“Oh, that pair,” sighed Duncan, “They cause us Prefects a good deal of bother except they've always got Chris Prosser to back them up.”
“I like George,” I said, “He's quite good fun.”
“You want to watch him,” said Duncan, “He'll lead you into bad habits.”
“Like smoking?”
“And everything else! You name it, Georgie's into it.”
He changed the subject, moving towards us and we moved back into Tom's room. Duncan surveyed the scene.
“So, what have you been up to? It all looks quite tidy in here for once.”
The heaps of bits and pieces did not sit well with this opinion. Tom scurried over to the pile of dirty washing. - topped by the spunked-upon shirt. He wasn't quite quick enough. Duncan picked up the rolled-up object, shook it and held it up for inspection. It was quite damp!
“Hmmn, what's this all over my old shirt?” he asked suspiciously.
“If you don't know what that is, don't ask,” was my immediate response.
Tom gasped. I think, either at my audacity or my foolishness.
Duncan laughed. “You've got quite a tongue on you, young Jacko. It's sharp, watch you don't cut yourself with it!”
I wasn't going to be outdone.
“If you ask a foolish question, expect a foolish answer!”
Duncan took a lunge at me and caught me round the chest with his strong arms - even with the expenditure of sexual energy already that afternoon my cock began to twitch. He held me tight. And with a free hand tickled my ribs. I was helpless.
“Don't be cheeky, lad, or you'll have to be dealt with like I deal with my recalcitrant little brother.”
“I'm not so little,” retorted Tom.
“But not big enough not to stop me reducing you to a quivering wreck my little precious.”
Oh God, if he tickled me any more I would be a quivering wreck with a massive quivering hardon! I could also see I wasn't going to get any help from the precious little darling!
“I suppose I mustn't give you the Buchanan special because you have your very smart uniform on.”
I managed to laugh rather than produce the giggle which the tickling was inducing.
“You could be like the Colonel and see me after this War without my uniform on.”
“Silly old bugger, I don't know how I stopped bursting out laughing when he said that,” said Duncan, at the same time letting go of me. Little precious stepped back even further.
I described my vision of a naked Henry and his mob of Cadets. Duncan laughed and even Tom managed to guffaw a bit. When we finished Duncan eyed Tom.
“So, tell me, brother dear, what caused my shirt to be so care-worn?”
“Boyish pleasures,” I said, before Tom could say anything.
“Oh, yes,” said Duncan, “Much pleasure?”
“Four-fold for your brother,” was my rejoinder.
“Oh my God,” said Duncan, a hint of disbelief in his voice, “Is that true?”
His question was directed at Tom. Tom grinned.
“Of course, and Jacko wasn't far behind with three.”
Duncan looked from Tom to me.
“I don't believe it! You two must be the horniest pair of .........”
I held up my hand and interrupted him.
“Where you going to cast aspersions on our parentage?” I asked. “I can assure you that we are both from good families.”
Duncan got my meaning straight away and laughed. Tom poked me in the back.
“What do you mean?” he asked rather plaintively, “What was he going to say?”
“If you don't know, don't ask!” said Duncan, echoing my statement to him.
Tom looked rather bewildered. I enlightened him.
“You're a horny little bastard was what your dear brother was going to say.”
“I told you I'm not little,” said Tom again.
Oh, the thickness of my friend! Pity his cock wasn't so thick!!
I shook my head and Duncan grinned at me again obviously enjoying his brother's obtuseness. I thought it best if I made my excuses and left so the brothers could continue their slight wrangling. As I went down the stairs I heard Tom saying it was my fault he'd made the mess on the rugger shirt and some of it was mine. Still, I knew we loved each other like brothers and, no doubt, he and his real brother would show their love for each other quite soon.
I certainly didn't want a wank that night in bed. Those three times in the afternoon emptied me and my dick was a bit sore. Perhaps three times in quick succession was something I could aim for as it was the second time in the past week, what with my session with Mike and his enormous cock. I inspected my shaft very closely when I went to bed and noted that the slight tear had healed. It did stiffen a bit but I resisted putting it under any more strain.
I had been put under another sort of strain as soon as Ma found me in the kitchen when she got home. I was cross-questioned about the parade and reminded that I was going to Ulvescott on Saturday and that I had better make sure I had clean clothes to wear while there as she did not want Mrs Crossley thinking I was not brought up properly. And had I remembered that there was Games the next afternoon as the school timetable had been changed and had I clean shorts, etc. Oh, fucking cricket! At least I could skive off that abomination and do some Athletics - I would try the javelin again and perhaps a run. My thoughts in that direction because of the happenings with Greg and Georgie and Matt made my cock twitch but it was still a bit tender. At least I did get plenty to eat that evening as I needed the food to help replenish the spunk I had discharged in copious amounts that afternoon.
While I was listening to my wireless in my room during the evening I began to ponder. Did I think of nothing else but that wonderful device between my legs? Mentally, I counted up the number of times I'd thought about my cock even during the time I'd been home after the encounter with Tom that afternoon. I couldn't count, I came to the conclusion my cock was in my mind almost all the time - even more than it was in my hand, Ha, Ha!
*
Thursday 25th May 1944
As I intended to have a run during the Games period I didn't get up early and lay in bed reviewing the last few days. I knew I wanted sex all the time. In fact, my cock was pointing at my chin as soon as I woke. I idly stroked it as I thought about events and before I knew what was happening I spewed a thick stream of cream all over my naked stomach. Oh shit!! I hadn't meant to have a wank just then but my hand had strayed to it's natural resting place without me consciously being aware of it. Oh crumbs, even after coming three plentiful loads the previous afternoon here was another abundant outpouring! I was a regular little spunk factory as others had remarked! I mopped up the mess and resolved not to touch my prick until I had to have a pee!!
I must have been very relaxed after firing that wad because next thing I knew was Ma banging on the door saying I would be late for school if I didn't get up quickly! I looked at my watch. 8.15. Just time to wash, dress, have breakfast and pedal furiously to school. Luckily I managed to remember to grab my shorts, jockstrap and shirt for Games and bundle those into my satchel as I rushed out of the house.
I arrived at school just as the bell was sounding and managed to get in line before the ogre-like figure of Henry Gale, who was master-minding the pre-Assembly lining-up again, could fix his gaze on me. I looked along the line for our class. No Matt! Not like Matt to be late. But even after Assembly, where the Head Beak congratulated us all on a splendid turnout the day before and, I thought, stared straight at me, no Matt appeared. Huggy called the register and took no notice when no response came to `Ward'. Of course, lucky bugger was having two extra days off school 'cos he was going up to Scotland to see his Dad!
On the back field in the afternoon I practised throwing the javelin for a while and managed to get it to go a fair distance. Then Georgie lolloped over accompanied by Johnny Wills. Both were in shorts and singlets and plimsolls.
“Where's you pal?” he enquired.
“Gone to Scotland to see his Dad,” I replied. “But where's Greg?”
“Got an exam tomorrow so he's busy, poor bugger.” He sniffed. “Coming for a run? Johnny is.”
I left the javelin I was holding with the Sixth Former who was supervising the small gaggle of cricket-haters and said I was going for a run. He took no notice as I jogged over to Georgie and Johnny. I suspect he just thought `Good-Ho, one less little bugger to watch out for'.
As usual we followed the trail and as we went along Georgie congratulated me on getting one over Henry Gale the day before. Apparently, I was the talk of the Cadets after the parade. No one had ever questioned Henry before and they, according to Georgie, were either in awe of me or fearful for my safety. Georgie assured me none of the Cadets would lay a finger on me as Henry was universally detested though admired for his adherence to the Cadets.
Before long we came to the fork leading to the wooden hut with the verandah.
“Come on, over here,” commanded Georgie, leading the way, “There won't be anyone here today.”
Sure enough, no one was around as we circled the building without stopping and went further along the track until we came to a much smaller shed-like building. Georgie opened the door and we filed in. It smelt damp and musty and was a bit dark but my eyes quickly became accustomed to the gloom and noted all it contained were a few spades and a couple of forks.
Georgie was straight to the point.
“I need a fucking wank,” he announced, “I had to get up early this morning and help my Dad so I never had my usual morning special and I need it now. You can either watch or help.”
Johnny must have been used to Georgie's ways because all three of us shucked off our shorts, pants, or in my case my jockstrap, and pulled our shirts off over our heads. Three erect penises were straightaway evident. Johnny's circumcised appendage was nowhere as long as Mike's but he had a fat, flared helmet which was straining towards his belly.
We were under instruction again. Georgie looked us over.
“I can wait,” he announced, “Let's see you two polish each other's pokers.”
That set us laughing and before I knew it Johnny had circled the fingers of his right hand round my cock.
“Gosh, your's is hard,” he whispered as he began to pull my foreskin up and down.
Gosh, I was ready for a wank too. He could only have masturbated me for a couple of minutes before I let fly a great jet of spunk which hit the shed wall about four feet away. Johnny gasped, pulled back my skin even tighter and I launched a second and then a third jet which joined the first.
“God Almighty,” he breathed, “Where did all that come from?”
I sniggered and turned and gripped his cock.
“Let's see what you can do,” I said, then remembered that he had no skin to provide friction. I let go and spat on my hand to lubricate his rod.
“You've done this before, haven't you,” he whispered as I quickened up my stroke on his now slippery dong.
“Yeah,” I replied, “”I've got a friend with a cock just like yours.”
I kept silent then and concentrated on raising Johnny's feelings to a grand conclusion. Like me this wasn't long in realisation. I felt his cock begin to spasm and pulled back hard holding his cock so that there would be a direct firing line towards the wall. He didn't disappoint. He also launched a stream of spunk, six squirts in all, the first three hitting the wall. I stopped wanking him and he fell back against me panting heavily.
“Oh, Jacko, that was great,” he murmured as he got his breath back, “I've never shot so much so far.”
It was Georgie's turn to snigger.
“God, you two produce more spunk than half our squad of Cadets together! It's my turn now and you can both get me going.”
With no more instruction we stood either side of Georgie. Johnny began to wank him as I squeezed his balls gently with one hand and stroked his left nipple with the first finger of the other. I moved my hand up from his balls and took over the rhythmic stroking of his very stiff shank as Johnny moved down and caressed his balls before holding them more tightly. Georgie was another quick comer that afternoon. Without any consultation I saw Johnny grip his balls harder and yank them downwards and at the same time I pulled Georgie's foreskin as far back as I could. Georgie responded with a tremendous set of squirts catapulting from his piss-slit. He hit the shed wall each time and they never seemed to end. His midriff was jerking almost uncontrollably as five, six, seven, eight spurts were spat with great force and splattered above our efforts, running down the wall to join our streams.
Georgie's knees buckled and he literally fell to the floor. Luckily for him both of us let go of his equipment at the same time or he might have been deprived of the ability to produce such a show again. He was more than panting. His breath was coming in great gulps and I think we both were worried about him. At last he got himself under control and beamed at us.
“God, what was that? Oh pals, what did you do?”
He struggled to his feet, his dick, now limp, had a long tendril of come dripping from its end. We stood looking at each other. I knew I'd had a marvellous wank - but I hadn't produced any more spunk that I did on a normal occasion. But the other two? They had obviously surpassed anything they had produced before. Was it my example? Georgie had seen how much I produced before, but it was a first for Johnny. Was it a great need, as in Georgie's case as he hadn't had his usual morning wank? No I think it was that the three of us had just had such an effect on each other we had all given of our best.
As we dressed back into our running togs we were very quiet. No comments, no conversation. Then Johnny broke the silence.
“I didn't know I could do that,” he said. “I have to confess it's not usually more than a couple of little squirts.” He shook his head. “It was bloody marvellous. Do you think we could do it again like that?”
Georgie produced a wry grin. “I'm well and truly knackered. I'll do it again with anyone who can make me come like that but I'm buggered if I can run a yard after all that. Come on, let's just sit.” He brightened up a bit. “ Does anyone want a fag?”
He drew out the usual packet of Woodbines from his shorts pocket. We both shook our heads. He extracted a rather bent cigarette, rummaged in his other pocket and found a red-tipped Swan Vesta match which he struck with some difficulty against the iron blade of a spade. He lit the cigarette and inhaled deeply, then let out a stream of smoke.
“Gosh, it's a thousand times better with a good pal's hand on it isn't it?” he said to no one in particular. “I get fucking fed-up sometimes tossing myself off. I bloody have to do it three or four sodding times a day but a pal's hand makes it seem so much fucking better.”
What a soliloquy. I didn't get fed up with my solitary wanks. Three or four times a day - gosh, Georgie was rampant! Still, I could do it that number of times especially if I had good friends to help. I looked across at Johnny who was staring at Georgie. I sensed another revelation about to emerge.
Johnny opened his mouth and spoke rather hesitantly but I interrupted him as I coughed a bit because of the smoke in the confined space. He started again as I waved my hand in front of my face.
“Do you really do it three or four times a day?”
Georgie grinned and nodded, blowing out another cloud of smoke.
A look of relief passed over Johnny's face.
“I do too,” he said with feeling, “I never liked to ask. But that one was like three or four rolled into each other.”
Not to be outdone I said I often did it that number of times, keeping fingers crossed as it certainly wasn't every day. These two were decidedly over-sexed wankers! Still, if Johnny needed relief I wouldn't mind more encounters with his steely grip.
I stood up and went to the door and opened it. It was OK, there was no-one about. Johnny also came to the door and the two of us breathed in deep gulps of the fresh air to dispel the smoke we'd inadvertently inhaled. Leaving the door open we went back in and sat, rather deliberately on the end of the bench nearest the door.
We sat chatting about all sorts including the fact that, as I suspected, the plan for this afternoon's encounter had been hatched by Georgie during last Sunday's excursion with the Cycle Club. Johnny Wills was a member as well as Danny Ross, who'd been our wank companion last week. Georgie had egged Danny on to tell Johnny about it as they were bosom pals and, I discovered that afternoon, real wank buddies of long standing. going back to the time when both could produce a stand for the first time. In fact, Danny had already informed Johnny that he'd got to me before him and Johnny had also heard about my prowess from Jim Masters who lived next door to him and joined up with him in their garden shed whenever possible. Crumbs the amount of spunk mutually shot by my friends and acquaintances was a real revelation!
I listened in silence for getting on for quarter of an hour while this tale went on and Georgie smoked a second Woodbine and filled the air again with pungent smoke. I spent the time just going `Yes' or `Ah' staring at the congealing evidence of our feats of the afternoon on the wall opposite. At last Johnny finished his recital, which also included the recounting of several other encounters with boys I knew and had wondered about, such as Gerry Thomas, Brendan Fisher and Fred Cross all in the Cadets and in 4S. Of course big Johnny Prosser also in 4S was another and Johnny's description of him as a tub of lard with a small dick made us laugh.
He was really in full flow and said he'd been made to wank off several of the boys now in the Fifth Form while at the Cadet camp last year because his boots weren't cleaned properly. He laughed and said he didn't mind that but was warned if he turned out in mucky boots again they would deal with him in a more unpleasant way. As they wouldn't tell him what that might be he made sure his boots were clean.
When he finished I saw him also staring at the greying blotches.
“I think we should leave a message above that lot.” he said, “Something like, `Beat off and beat this!'”
Georgie laughed. “Or, `Three's company when you come'!”
I thought it should be in biblical mode. “What about `Come hither and shed your loads!”
We all thought the three should be written up. No good though. Georgie might carry fags in his pockets but no one had a pencil so no inscriptions. What puzzles future archaeologists would miss!
In the end we set off back to school at a very sedate pace, too shagged out to complete our intended run. I changed with Johnny into school clothes as Georgie decided to cycle off home as he was and we two agreed we should meet up again. His was another interesting, well-exercised, circumcised rod to become more acquainted with - Mike, Cleggy, now Johnny.
I relived that encounter in bed that night. My outflow was not as powerful as that of the afternoon but it was three times that day like the two days before and after it I went to sleep quickly and slept soundly.
*
Friday was a quiet day. I met Tom when I did my run and helped him finish off his paper-round. We arranged to set off for Ulvescott at half-past nine the next day and he said he'd packed already. I, of course, hadn't given that a thought though Ma had reminded me earlier in the week. Ah well, I would get everything ready that evening.
*
Saturday morning I woke up at five past five. I was all bright and cheerful. I'd only had one wank the day before so I supposed my stamina hadn't been lowered very much. There wasn't a sound in the house so I decided to go for a run even though I had a long cycle ride later. I needed something to do. If I stayed in bed I would only have a wank so I slid out, donned my running togs and quietly left the house. Fate made me turn right instead of left. Fate made me run towards Cathedral Drive. Not my usual route but I knew I would be much too early to help Tom. I was running very steadily now, keeping up a good pace, gliding past the coppice of trees that bordered the field that sloped down towards the cathedral close.
I turned into Cathedral Drive and as I ran along I noticed that the gate to Henry Gale's woman friend's house was open. It was a wide, white gate and was generally closed but now it swung half way across the drive to the house. I slowed my pace as I heard a strange noise coming from somewhere in the front garden of the house. It sounded like an animal scrabbling and mewing or moaning as well. Being curious I stopped and cautiously looked past the gate where the driveway turned in front of the house.
I was rather startled to see a neat pile of clothes by the side of the drive. I took a wary look along the drive and saw a pair of bare legs sticking out across the gravel. One leg twitched. I ventured further onto the drive and a very strange sight confronted me. There was Henry Gale, sitting naked, trussed up like one of his father's Christmas chickens, leaning against a bird bath. He wasn't able to shout out because whoever had left him in this condition had also thoughtfully gagged him as well with what looked suspiciously like one of the SJAB arm-slings such as I'd been issued with in my First Aid pack.
I walked over to him and stood in front of him. Two mournful, pleading eyes looked at me but I was in no hurry. In fact I was intrigued by the spectacle. Not only was he naked but he had been decorated. Two red rings circled his nipples. A large red arrow had been drawn from between his breasts pointing down towards his black bush and dick. As he had been there, I assumed, all night in the chill, his dick had almost retracted into his belly. It was no more than thumb sized and even that had been given a liberal coating of red.
I bent down and touched his right nipple to see what the red stuff was. His muscles twitched as I touched him. He face took on a look of alarm. I looked at my finger. I grinned to myself, someone had been very liberal with precious War-time lipstick. I looked between his legs which were parted and realised why he was sitting like that. There was a wet trail on the slight slope towards the drive. Henry had pissed himself during the night. I caught the rather acrid stench of urine as I scuffed my feet. Poor bugger. The scenario was clear.
I assumed that Henry and his pals had been out for a celebratory farewell. He had imbibed too freely and his pals had stripped him, decorated him and dumped him with no thought to the consternation which might be caused if his paramour had found him in the state he was. This was assuming again that the tales of Henry shagging the woman who lived there were true.
I did take pity on him. He did look a sorry sight. I did toy with the idea of seeing if his poor cock might be coaxed into life but decided against it so without saying anything I leaned over him and, with some difficulty, got the gag untied.
Henry took a few deep breaths.
“Thank God you came along,” he said with great feeling. “When I see that bastard Prosser I'll beat the fucking daylights out of him.” He grinned rather ruefully. “Can you untie me and then I can get dressed.”
I scooted behind the birdbath and managed to get some rather expertly tied knots undone. He waved his arms around to get the circulation back.
“I'm eternally grateful to you,” he said, then paused. “Our paths seem to have crossed rather a lot since you little buggers held me down and stripped me. And then the last couple of days. Sorry if I shouted at you.”
I shrugged. “Part of your job, I suppose, shouting. And you did look a bit bigger in the showers.” I said the last pointedly looking at his still shrivelled prick.
He struggled to his feet and looked rather distastefully at the urine trail.
“You cheeky bastard, but gosh, I stink, and that shrinkage was due entirely to the cold.” He stretched his arms and shoulders, then looked at me and grinned. “Yeah, I have to be in charge with a job like that. Doesn't make me popular, does it?”
I didn't say anything but went over to the pile of clothes and handed him his shirt, pants and trousers as these were on top. He quickly put them on over his decorations.
“What happened?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Don't remember much,” he said, screwing up his face, “Went to the pub with Prosser and three of the other senior Cadets. I think I only had three pints but I bet the buggers spiked my drink. I'm not used to it.” He paused again. “Oh fuck, my Dad will be mad if he sees me, he doesn't approve of drinking. Still can't be helped.”
By this time he'd got more or less dressed and learned against the birdbath again to put his socks and shoes on.
“I'd be grateful if you didn't spread it around - you know - how you found me. Still I suppose it doesn't matter as I'm not coming back to school.” He leaned over to me and ruffled my hair. “No hard feelings, eh? As I said I'm so glad it was you who found me and not her.” He nodded towards the house. He grinned again. “And it's not true what they say - I know, the rumours have got back to me....”
The look on my face must have given him the clue that I'd heard the rumours.
“No,” he said, “All lies, she just likes to talk so you can tell that to the others and they can stick that in their pipes and smoke it even if that silly sod Alec Fry says he saw me coming out with my flies open!”
The look on my face told him I'd not only heard the rumours but I 'd also heard about his flies.
“God Almighty, young Thomson, she's forty-three! She's a friend of my mother so how the hell could I be shafting her! And if she saw me like this she'd go round the bend!”
“I liked the decorations,” I said breaking my own silence.
He did have the grace to smile.
“That was that bastard Rob Collins and his sister's lipstick. When I find him I'll ram the blasted tube up his arse!”
“Weren't they coming back to let you up?” I asked.
“What, those fuckers!” he growled, “I bet they thought I'd be able to get free but I couldn't. Some twat tied me up a bit too tight.”
By now he was fully dressed. I said I had to get off as I was going to Ulvescott with Tom Buchanan.
“Duncan's brother?”
I nodded.
He laughed. “Well, don't embroider the truth too much and I'd better hurry as I must get back home before my father sees me.”
We both went to the gate, which he left open, then we parted, I going on to complete my run while he turned the other way and began to walk rapidly in the opposite direction.
Embroider the truth? I had plenty to impart to Tom on our ride to Ulvescott. Decorations, gag, piss trail, miniature cock, all would be retailed in great detail. But, I did get the feeling that Henry was, under all his bull and bluster, fundamentally a nice chap. I suppose time would tell.
I completed my run and entered a quiet house. Ma was not up so I washed and dressed in my corduroy shorts and a plain red rugger shirt ready to cycle to Ulvescott. I checked my haversack and put in an extra pair of underpants and tucked my torch down the side. I heard Ma go downstairs so I followed soon after and polished off a mountain of porridge. Ma asked if I had seen anything interesting on my early run and I lied and said I hadn't other than I'd seen Tom just setting off to do his paper-round as I came in our gate. How could I explain to my mother the sorry sight I had rescued from ridicule and humiliation and what might have occurred if someone else, not such a knight in shining armour, had come along.