Chapter 23: Caught in the act
What a weekend it had turned out to be, satisfaction on all fronts. Well almost!
Neither Bogbrush nor Joel had been disappointed with the unique experience that only Byron could offer, in fact they had the close combat injuries to prove it. In Joel’s case a twisted leg and a raw cock, whereas Bogbrush had courtesy of Byron both foreskin and anus full of quick setting cement dust. And, having limped home utterly soaked, dishevelled and totally ingrained with cement dust it was only to be expected that their respective mother’s quickly became cataclysmic about, whatever doting mothers became cataclysmic about.
However on the plus side, someone who had had a satisfying weekend was Farty who with more than a little encouragement from his sister Cilla had partaken of the cardinal sin. With their father mending a friend’s car and their mother out shopping, Cilla had forced Farty into her bedroom and subsequently onto her bed with the sole object of taking their mutual masturbation to the next logical level. Not that in truth much had happened, other than she being so excited at the idea she had fingered herself for far too long and was more than somewhat wet and gooey. Sadly, Farty having very recently ejaculated in the toilet had great difficulty in persuading his minimum length appendage become erect again. And, even when it did, he didn’t actually get much of it inserted due to a penile shortage of about an inch and the combined girth of their podgy stomachs. Still, never to look a gift horse in the mouth or his thirteen year old sister in the fanny, when all things were considered Farty was no longer technically a virgin even if it were by way of incest and not properly consummated. The hope was all that was to remain as a secret, although whether the sex craved Cilla could contain such a revelation for long was another matter.
Elsewhere on the debit side of things, for one particular person the future did not bode particularly well. A ghost from the past had appeared to darken his doorway or to be more apt, darken a historical tent-flap opening. It had been well over twenty years since Jack Wilson had left the boy scouts as a patrol leader. The decision was due primarily to the increasing attention of the older troupe leader who was taking full advantage of the fact that he knew Wilson wanted to share his tent with two particular boys. One of those boys was Clive Tomlinson, a very precocious middle class eleven year old who was a keen and extremely willing student in the art of masturbation. Amongst his other endearing talents he had become particularly adept at slipping a hand up the leg of Wilson’s shorts as they sat round the evening campfire. Now turned thirty, Tomlinson had secured a post at the local grammar school teaching history and being unaware of Wilson’s existence in the area was equally surprised to meet him in the supermarket carpark that Saturday morning.
Once through the long lost friend routine, albeit more from a very enthusiastic Tomlinson than a wary Wilson, it became rapidly apparent that Tomlinson was very much the active homosexual. He assumed quite correctly that due to their past secrets Wilson would still have an interest in schoolboys and consequently talked freely of his many conquests, concluding their meeting by propositioning Wilson for a father and son reunion!
Rather shocked that his past interest in boys were still that discernible and obviously being viewed by Tomlinson as very much extant, Wilson was thrown into a state of mild panic. Even though he had specifically not mentioned his recent skirmishes with the boys at the school he looked guilty, felt guilty and knew he was guilty of wanting the boys not just voyeuristically, but physically. Back in his days when camping with the scouts his particular delight was to be buggered by the two younger boys in turn when all were tucked up in his sleeping bag. Just in fact, as he had recently begun having similar fantasies of being tucked up with Kelvin, Bogbrush, Luke and Connor.
It was undoubtedly an awkward if very arousing encounter, for Tomlinson still held an attraction being a very young looking thirty year old with, just as when a boy a habit of constantly playing with his not over large equipment. Meagre it may have been, but as Wilson recalled it could produce semen all day long if required and even back then Tomlinson had developed a truly erotic party piece. When out and about with Wilson around the wooded camp he would frequently ejaculate into his white briefs, being at the time de rigueur underwear for all men and boys, then manage to conspire to run a hand down the back of Wilson’s shorts to insert a finger wet with warm semen deep inside and all without being seen.
With memories like that to draw on both were understandably fully erect. Wilson wishing to escape made up an excuse he was late to meet his wife, whereas a disappointed Tomlinson blatantly stated he was off to masturbate in his car in lieu of enticing Wilson back to his flat. So, clutching at the crumpled supermarket receipt with Tomlinson’s telephone number scribbled on it, Wilson set off home for a weekend of worry and temptation. In truth he already knew that temptation had won, the real question being who would be the first to reawaken that special feeling of being filled with cock, Tomlinson or one of the boys?
Yet another Monday morning dawned. The pupils and staff each with their own thoughts were reluctantly returning to the rundown school for another week of discovery or depending on the viewpoint, absolute purgatory.
The pupils of class 2E were no different to any other and headed off noisily, unenthusiastically towards what would invariably turn out to be an exceptionally stultifying history lesson. Their departure from the school hall was unusually rapid and certainly not based on being keen to get to the lesson, more that it had been hastened by a not altogether singular event as the comments confirmed.
“Oi, Farty yer a dirty sod, yer’s fucking dropped another gert big ‘un back then didn’t yer?”
“It’s like bleeding poison gas, wot d’yer eat for breakfast, they fucking beans again?”
“Fucking, sodding piss off!”
Embarrassed, his sphincter still burning, Farty scurried out of the hall and down the corridor to sounds of a further flatulent explosions hopefully disguised under a bout of faux coughing. Behind, he left a scene of utter devastation with several first year boys lying on their backs, legs in the air gasping for oxygen, the truly awful smell having taken hold. In no uncertain terms, as he had been told many, many times before his current diet of baked beans was wreaking havoc with the social niceties of school life and if he didn’t do something about it then maybe other would.
“Jase, I gotta talk with yer.” said Farty catching him by the arm.
“Gor, fucking hell Farty yer’s just dropped another one ain’t yer?” Jason was holding his nose, paint started to peel from the walls as they walked briskly away hoping to avoid the poisonous cloud of gas.
“Bet yer burnt a hole in yer pants with that one!” Billie was gasping for oxygen.
“Fucking shut up, now listen..” said the embarrassed Farty.
“Why don’t yer fart proper, then us’ll hear yer and get a warning!” suggested Brett.
“Shut up, listen our Cilla says,” Farty looked back to the scene of the disaster where luckily some boys were still alive if struggling for breath, “she says that she wants to get on with it… soon, this week, he’s gotta find some place where’s safe to do it.”
“Wot? Who? Do wot?” the lack of oxygen had seriously affecting Jason’s limited powers of comprehension. “Oh wot? Ah, oh, course her and Kelv is gonna do something together ain’t ‘em?”
“Sssshhhh… keep yer bleeding voice down, it’s a secret don’t fucking say nothing!”
“Oh, yeah alright I’s tell him later then.”
Later, it transpired was during the mid-morning break. Jason caught up with Kelvin and Bogbrush, huddled together and enjoying another sensual retelling of the arousing events and sticky happenings in Byron’s shed.
“Thing is,” whispered Bogbrush, “me willy’s still got that fucking cement stuff stuck round the end, it won’t bleeding wash off.”
“That why’s yer limping a bit then?”
“Nah, no, that’s ‘cause me bumhole ain’t felt the same since that Dipstick had his bleeding gert willy up it.”
“Oh.. wish I’d fucking seen it all, I should have come along like yer said.” Kelvin paused to imagine the scene and immediately started playing with himself. Again.
“Yeah and, and don’t yer dare say nothing about it will yer, ‘cause see,” Bogbrush was down to a whisper, it was serious stuff, “see when I’s get’s home all wet and that, well our mum goes fucking nuts, course I’s fucking knew she would and then and…”
“Yeah, they’s really fucking does go nuts don’t ‘em?” interrupted Kelvin. “Dunno why they gets so fucking excited, d’yer know?”
“No’s I don’t, now just bleeding shut up and listen,” continued Bogbrush, “anyhow see, when I’s escapes from her and I get’s in me room I’s can tell Dipstick’s cum has leaked out of me bum ‘cause I’s could feel it going down me legs when she were going on at I! And, and it’s all over they old white pants I had on and, and there’s some fucking gert lumps of cement in it!”
“Fuck, yer still got ’em, I’s love to see they!”
“Yer can fucking have ’em if yer wants!”
“Ooh fuck yeah! So wot d’yer think, will it’ll concrete up yer bumhole?” Kelvin’s hand continued unabated, his brain though was bereft of any other logical thought so he repeated it. “So d’yer think it could block up yer hole so, so yer couldn’t have a shit? Yer’d fucking bum might explode! Cor, bleeding hell, that’d be dangerous wunnit!”
“Oi, Kelv!” Jason’s voice interrupted the conversation.
“Oh, who’s that?” Bogbrush looked round. “Oh hell!”
“Bleeding Jase innit, wot’s yer fucking want?” Kelvin was rather disappointed that the subject of Bogbrush’s concrete orifice could not be pursued further.
“I’s been looking for yer.”
“Fucking hurray! So now yer’s found us so wot’s bleeding want then?”
“Message from Farty.” Jason looked quite out of breath, exercise or the lack of it ran in the family.
“Oh… oh him?” Kelvin suddenly looked interested. “Well fucking get on with it then!”
“He says to tell yer that Cilla wants to do it really soon like.”
“Do wot with him?” Bogbrush grinned, his mind taken off having a concrete anus.
Like throwing a switch, both of Kelvin’s hands were now fully engaged, one through the pocketless pocket and the other through the semen stained pocket lining. The result was pretty well instantaneous, the front of his trousers were filled to bursting and a wet spot magically appeared on the front of his Guptha’s International green paisley with contrasting red trim, briefs.
“Yer wanking!” accused Jason.
“Nah, I’s just getting ready,” Kelvin laughed, knowing he would certainly be doing it in the next lesson, “ain’t got time now ‘cause the bleeding bells gonna go innit?”
Bogbrush nodded, he too was looking forward to the next lesson, it was woodwork. “Ain’t yer wanking in yer next lesson then? Yer could join us and I’s do it for yer!”
“Uumm…” Jason blushed, he would have loved to sat next to Bogbrush and explored his trousers just as he often did with Billie.
“Dirty little fucker, yer is ain’t yer?” Bogbrush laughed, Jason tried to look away.
“Oi Jase yer tosser, yer can tell Farty, Fatty, fucker wotever his bleeding name is that I’s all ready for her and I’s trying to find some place to do it.. yer got that?”
“Yeah, alright and.. “ the rest of Jason’s reply was drowned by the lesson bell.
“Good, now fuck off!”
“Where yer gonna do it with her then?” asked Bogbrush. “In yer shed?”
“I dunno, see she’s such a little cow I’s really wants somewhere where’s I could just piss off like, if she gets all bleeding iffy like.” the wet spot was getting bigger.
“Wot about that shed that Dipstick uses, that’ll be alright wunnit?”
“Yeah, that would do wunnit?” very excited at the prospect he toyed with the end of his cock through his pocketless pocket which dramatically increased the slimy wet patch on the Guptha’s International underpants.
“Would wunnit.” agreed Bogbrush.
Unwashed since the previous evening’s carnal delights mit serious anal probing, the nail-bitten, grubby fingers of Kelvin’s other hand were now actively picking away at a superior example of a ripe adolescent yellow pustule hiding amongst the bumfluff his top lip. Watching with great interest, it came as no surprise to Bogbrush that the head soon burst letting the contents ooze out and allow Kelvin to simply sweep it all up with tongue and then suck his fingers.
“Yer fucking disgusting at times when d’yer last wash they fingers then?” asked Bogbrush. “Bet yer ain’t done it since yesterday!”
“Maybe not,” Kelvin grinned, “but I’s knows that yer ain’t no betterer, ‘cause yer likes sucking yer fingers after bumming yerself don’t yer?”
“Sod off!” Bogbrush had forgotten he had revealed that prime nugget of personal information, nevertheless it was somehow very erotic to exchange such intimacies.
“Sod that, come on hurry up the bells gone so let’s go and see if us can get old Wilson a bit excited!”
“Well I already is!”
Determined to resist attempts by Bogbrush or Kelvin entice him into the world of adolescent temptation, Mr Wilson had been trying to convince himself during the previous lesson that he could, would, must be able to contain his feelings of lust for the boys. However, watching the class as they trooped lethargically into the workshop and slowly begin to exchange blazers for aprons, he could not avert his gaze from the many pairs of trousers. He just couldn’t stop himself looking, it was something he had always done in trying to ascertain who already had an erection and who would probably be masturbating under cover of the apron once the lesson was under way.
It was the major bonus in having to contend with a room full of adolescents. It hadn’t taken much to realise that it would usually be the same boys who would perform, being either immature, slightly extrovert or like Kelvin simply addicted to masturbation. Generally speaking, being a double lesson nothing much would happen for the first half-hour when under cover of the mandatory apron things would start to develop.
Buoyed by his performance in the previous week’s woodworking lesson, Luke was one of the first to start, determined to prove to himself and Dave that he was indeed brave enough to repeat the action and could masturbate in class. Dave though was more cautious and hadn’t exactly promised that he would join Luke, but on the other hand hadn’t said he wouldn’t either! In fact it almost seemed like a right of passage to some of the boys that masturbation in the woodwork classes under cover of the apron was mandatory. The real problem for them was not so much getting caught, more that they hadn’t realised Mr Wilson just couldn’t wait for them to start and would always manage by some strange coincidence to appear to inspect their work just when ejaculation was imminent!
“Have you hurt yourself somehow Joel,” asked Mr Wilson, a visit to Joel’s bench was not unusual for he could sense which way the boys interests lay and that a full scale organ manipulation under the apron was not unknown, “it looks to me like you’re limping a bit today?”
“Ah, oh Sir, oh, oh yeah,” quite obviously unable to tell the truth, he looked up from the bench and the tenon joint that wouldn’t quite tenon, “I.. uumm, I’s twisted me leg and that.. and..”
“and? Oh, over the weekend was it?”
“Oh, well you must have really done something, as this would be the third day.”
“Yeah, I’s reckons I did.”
He certainly did reckon, for not only was it his leg that still hurt, far worse were the injuries to his genitalia. Whilst his balls may have partially recovered from being speared by Byron, it was his cock that was the real problem. After being literally rubbed raw walking around in wet jeans with added cement dust, it had since sustained serious, if not catastrophic frictional damage from multiple masturbation sessions. Having very energetically recreated the Byron experience several times over the course of the next twenty-four hours by the time Sunday evening came his cock was in a dreadful state, unable to attain an erection and actually rubbed so violently as to draw blood.
“Maybe you ought to get somebody to look at it?”
“No…no…” gabbled Joel immediately thinking of his cock not his leg, “it’ll be alright.”
“Ah well, up to you. Now that joint looks as though it needs a bit more off the shoulder.” Mr Wilson already looking round to see who looked the most likely next candidate for self-abuse. “I’ll come back shortly and see how you are doing.”
Across the room having downed tools and thinking they were invisible, Luke was standing by Dave’s bench hoping to persuade him to enjoin in masturbation.
“Dave, it’s alright, yer can do it yer pants if wants, yer don’t have to get it out!”
“But, I’s dunno if I’s wants to walk round with me pants all full of cum ‘cause they’s was clean on Saturday y’see.”
Despite what he was saying, underneath his apron Dave’s hand was pushed right down the front of trousers and actively rubbing his cock inside his once white briefs, now a worn grey-white with a fetching myriad of yellowing pee and spunk stains.
“Look yer fucking well wanking now, so’s just hold on and I’s get me willy out and then us’ll do it together like.” suggested Luke very enthusiastically.
“Well,” Dave looked nervously around, this was going to be a woodworking first and there was no desk to hide under if it all went wrong, “so is yer really gonna pull it right out then?”
“Yeah, course I’s is,” bravado aside Luke wasn’t all that sure either, “once I’s got it started like all yer gotta do is get yer hand under me apron and yer can toss us off.”
“Right, uumm.. yeah, alright,” temptation already had the better of Dave who was building up the courage to offer the contents of his underpants in exchange, “and, I ‘spose uumm… well, if yer wanted like, yer could stuff yer hand down me pants and wank I off as well.”
“Oh yeah, I’s likes the sound of that.” said Luke, now really wishing he had opted for the far safer option of simply ejaculating in his underpants.
“So’s yer’s gonna cum over yer apron then?” Dave looked envious for the actual risk was itself a big turn on, yet the reality was he didn’t have the courage.
Nodding affirmatively, Luke was moving around with one hand inside the fly of his trousers attempting to free his erection from his twisted briefs. Although whilst the precise details of the movements were unknown it was pretty apparent to Mr Wilson watching from across the room that something was going to happen. Naturally, he had already homed in on Luke’s actions and had him in his sights as the next target, but would allow a few minutes to reach the point of no return before moving over to see what was going one.
Over towards the window the initial part of the lesson had been given over to Kelvin’s request for Bogbrush to tell him yet again all about his Saturday morning adventures. That in turn had prompted Kelvin to think just a little further afield as he played with himself through his pocketless pocket and the increasingly pre-cummy Guptha’s International briefs with added dried semen stains.
“So why’s Joel limping about then?” Kelvin looked up, the sticky glue brush in his right hand resembling the head of his cock cupped in the palm of his left hand beneath the apron. “Ain’t his knackers recovered yet then from when’s that fat git Dipstick sat on ’em or wotever he did?”
“Dunno, I’s go and ask him shall us?” Bogbrush was only too willing to leave his pair of mismatched bookends to their own splintered devices. “Tell yer wot, now I thinks of it he were fucking moaning that his willy were getting all rubbed inside his jeans ‘cause the silly fucker thought he’s get all turned on if he didn’t wear no pants!”
“Oh fuck, yeah!” Kelvin grinned. “Fuck! I’s done that when I were twelve, don’t yer remember? The inside of me jeans rubbed holes in me willy and it fucking hurt so’s I’s couldn’t wank for days!”
“Fuck yeah!” Bogbrush laughed. “And, didn’t yer try and put a gert bandage or something on it to make it betterer like?”
“I’s forgotten that! It fell off when I’s pissed didn’t it!” Kelvin laughed. “Well yer go and see wot Joel’s got then. Better wait till old Wilson’s buggered off, I ‘spect he’s having a look at him as well!”
“Probably, dirty old sod!”
“He uumm, well Joel I’s means, he ain’t got a very big willy has he?”
“Ain’t as big as mine, but it don’t matter,” Bogbrush winked, “see ‘cause I’s did wondered if maybe’s the three of us ought to get together like? Yer knows.”
“Wot wank in me shed?”
“Were else is there?”
“So how’s it all coming along then lads?”
Mr Wilson, hoping his timing was spot on for an orgasmic voyeuristic moment had arrived at Luke’s bench. Having taken a circuitous route around the room to appear from behind he had planned that the element of surprise would be on his side and at least one of the boys would be caught in the act.
“Oohh fuuu… fffine!” Luke swivelled slowly round.
Initially thinking it was another boy the average guilty expression immediately changed to one of terror on seeing the smiling Mr Wilson. As he turned there could be no hiding the fact that his right arm disappeared from view beneath Dave’s apron and that in turn Dave’s left arm was quite obviously still attached to something that was hidden by the apron. Prior to being apprehended, the excitement of it all had been too much for Dave as only a minute earlier he had ejaculated into the furrows of his ample stomach. The incredible sensation of feeling the sperm coursing up Dave’s cock and over his hand, had brought Luke to the very cusp of orgasm which under the risky circumstances would have been a fitting climax to any such occasion.
However, it was not to be. With a very slimy hand inside Dave’s underpants, Luke looked at him desperately hoping he would say something. Anything. Anything, to help. Moral support was desperately needed for Luke knew his own orgasm was imminent, unstoppable and even squeezing his legs together as hard as he could was no match for the increasing testicular pressure that was building up.
As fate would have it and it always did, just as Mr Wilson arrived by the bench so did Luke begin to ejaculate, his face contorted, he shuddered desperate to put a hand down and pacify his throbbing organ. It, having been taunted by Dave’s hand and brought almost to the point of ejaculation and then stopped a couple of times he wasn’t stopping this time! The nearly five inches of Luke’s sorely abused boyhood had had enough and it also had more than enough reserves of spunk to absolutely flood the area beneath the apron. Under any other circumstances Luke would have been justly proud of his performance, but sadly not this time. The risk factor coupled with a strange hand on his cock had played a large part in his over stimulation resulting in a monumental orgasm. It produced a discharge the size of which Kelvin would have been proud of, so much so that spunk had been forced through the apron and beneath was dripping off his trousers and onto the floor below.
Dave looked white, he guessed what had happened. Petrified and just to confirm it, an insidious, ominous rumble came from the direction of his trousers followed by the unmistakable sound of escaping gas confirming his self-control finally failed.
However Mr Wilson, himself aroused and having a very good idea of what might have happened was experiencing considerable difficulty in containing his excitement. Unable to look either boy in the face he decided to push their embarrassment to the extreme.
“Now, let’s have a look at your.. uumm.. your work then Luke.”
“I’s get out the way then.” mumbled Dave very wisely taking the opportunity to shuffle back in his semen soaked briefs towards his own bench.
Standing next to Luke, Mr Wilson leant over the bench to theoretically inspect Luke’s version of a tenon joint, Luke was trapped and he knew it, in fact they both knew it, although the only thing Luke didn’t know was of Mr Wilson’s boy related interests. That the air was heavy with the smell of semen and Mr Wilson was so close that each could sense the other’s body heat, Luke was beginning to experience a really strange feeling and suddenly a desperate, absolutely desperate desire to masturbate again.
Being something of an expert when it came to observing apron manoeuvres it was obvious to Mr Wilson that all that was between him and the source of the strong smell of semen was a thin piece of dirty cotton. Some sort of plan was required if Luke were to reveal what was beneath the apron, maybe thought Mr Wilson if he were to inadvertently push the tenon joint towards the middle of the bench and inspect it there then Luke would have to stretch a little.
“You see Luke,” the joint moved towards the centre of the bench as Mr Wilson casually leaned on it, his arms somewhat outstretched, “if you look here you can see the shoulders aren’t level all the way round, d’you see?”
It was a very uncomfortable position for Luke to adopt and he was frightened the apron might suddenly move and reveal all beneath. Poking upwards from the open fly his erection showed no sign of subsiding and continued to deposit semen over his trousers.
“Luke, see here, you can feel it, try it.”
“Uumm..” his hand slowly moved across to feel the joint, the hand left streaks of Dave’s semen across the wood.
“There, d’you see?”
Mr Wilson rubbed his fingers together then glanced downwards to the bench where not wish to crush his genitals, Luke appeared to be standing on his toes. The front of the apron glistening in the light and what could only be a teenage erection appeared to have the apron under considerable tension and clearly visible just above the edge of the bench.
“Uumm…” Luke was fading fast, his mouth dry he wondered if he would faint and leant against the bench.
In all respects, other than his cock, Luke was visibly wilting for he was useless at lying, acting, subterfuge or anything like it. He didn’t know what to do and had all but resigned himself to be caught in what could only be the most embarrassing situation he could ever imagine. To the contrary Mr Wilson had absolutely no intention of embarrassing him, since not for the first time would he gain far more sexual gratification if there were no fuss. Instead he would adopt the tried and tested low key approach where the matter would be kept just between the two of them and so rely on Luke’s total embarrassment to ensure he didn’t say anything.
“I think that, uumm… well, maybe you’ve had an accident and uumm..” Mr Wilson spoke quietly, “well, these things happen at your age don’t they?”
“Wot!” Luke was shocked at the inference, one thing was sure he didn’t have accidents, he had simply been caught masturbating in class!
“You know,” continued Mr Wilson, “it might be a bit of a mess under that apron, why not uumm, well, say you nip in the woodstore and clean up a bit.”
“Uumm.. I’s ’spose..” Luke, now a brilliant shade of red knew he had no choice and stupidly compounded the situation by looking down to see the front of the apron, soaked with semen and poking blatantly outwards, “oh.. ffuuu oh… uumm…”
“You’ll need to hold something in front to hide that won’t you?” Mr Wilson looked down, if only he could lift the apron and wrap his lips around it, “So, uumm, well, maybe I’ll pop over in a minute with a few paper towels or something for you.”
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