Bog Off
by Tom

 

Chapter 37: Sexual excess

Meanwhile on that same Saturday afternoon only a few hundred yards away from the shed, across the carpark in the adjoining park Joel was impatiently waiting for Luke to arrive. They had arranged to meet at a spot they both knew, a bench situated where the open grassed area joined the botanical garden section, Joel being desperately keen had arrived early and was waiting on the bench. However, with time appearing to pass slowly he wasn’t just waiting, he was furtively playing with himself through his pocketless pocket within the same spunky white underpants which he had on earlier.

Observing from a secluded vantage point, just inside the gate to the botanical gardens was Clive Tomlinson, who already aroused and like Joel early for an assignation which he too hoped would lead to something of a decidedly sexual nature. Watching from the distance it was hard to gauge just how large Joel’s cock was especially as he was wearing jeans, but a bulge there certainly was and the hand movements inside unmistakable. Not being over endowed himself Tomlinson found it was easy to disguise his own erection even when erect and playing with himself, so with a hand casually placed in his trouser pocket and exuding a confident air he moved to Joel’s right at the other end of the bench and sat down.

“Is it alright to sit here,” he smiled disarmingly, “I’d agreed to meet somebody at this bench since it was quite a good landmark.”

“Uumm.. yeah..” mumbled Joel slowly removing his hand, leaving the all important bulge, “yeah, I’s `spose.”

“Are you waiting for somebody as well?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s me mate,” said Joel, “but I’s a bit early.”

“So am I,” Tomlinson looked at his watch, “by about ten minutes, we said half-past three.”

“Same as us were then.”

Since the stranger didn’t appear in the least predatory, Joel felt more relaxed sharing the bench and managed a smile, his hand slipping back through the pocket opening.

“Ah, right.” he smiled back.

Many years of practice had turned Tomlinson into something of a voyeuristic expert when it came to detailed observation of boys, their underwear, pockets and masturbation through a pocketless pocket, an innovation that was not entirely the reserve of the sexually active in a secondary school. Watching Joel he noted with interest the flash of white when the hand was inserted back into the pocket which usually indicated, at least as far as most grammar school pupils were concerned, confirmation that middle class mothers still bought traditional white underwear.

Besides, Joel’s obvious council estate background represented a new opportunity for Tomlinson who was already having visions of him mixing with grammar school boys in full cut white briefs and all actively masturbating though the pocket. Puzzlingly, Joel was contrary to type and apparently wearing white underwear which went against all of Tomlinson’s detailed voyeuristic observations, for all the working class youth he had ever watched wore gaudy colours. And, he had observed a lot of boys!

The question was, how could he broach the subject.

That was if he needed to broach it directly at all, for he had a feeling that Joel could well be of the other persuasion and such intuition was rarely wrong when to came to discerning the sexuality of his pupils. Not of course that Joel was pupil, but sat there on the bench with bulging jeans he was gloriously attractive with bumfluff and a fine assortment acne, an example of masturbatory excesses and limited brain power.

On the other side of the coin, Joel knowing he was indeed of the other persuasion found his own antenna twitching inside his spunky briefs. Nervous he may have been at the encounter, but he was nevertheless pretty sure of the unspoken vibe that resonated between him and them of the pleasant young man with the smile.

“You.. uumm.. local?” enquired Tomlinson, still wondering how he could get to open up the subject.

“Ah yeah, is yer local then?”

By now Joel was thinking that he was quite safe and that nothing could really happen between them in broad daylight even if his assumption of Tomlinson’s sexuality were correct. On that basis he suddenly decided to give himself a real thrill and act like he was a little tease, so carefully watching for a reaction he pushed his hand deep into his pocket and blatantly wiggled his fingers around.

Tomlinson took a deep breath, cursing the fact he had an appointment to keep and would loose the wonderful opportunity to molest Joel. He responded by doing the same pointedly moving his hand in his pocket as he looked across at Joel’s jeans.

“No, I’ve recently moved here.”

Normally reserved when it came to making a play for sex and even then always with much younger boys, it was at this point that Joel started to loose his self control and virtually invited Tomlinson to move matters on. Maybe it had been the preceding sex fuelled few days that had led up to him being sat there awaiting Luke, whatever as he watched the exaggerated movements in Tomlinson’s trousers he took another step from which there was to be no going back.

“I’s thinks, uumm,” he blushed as he said it, “me willy’s got caught in me pants!”

“Bit tight are they?” delighted, Tomlinson shuffled a few inches down the bench towards him. “D’you know, I think mine might be as well.”

“They’s is a bit like.” still flushed Joel grinned for there was no doubt they were both of the same persuasion, but having established that what was he going to do next?

“I expect they’re coloured aren’t they?”

“Nah, they’s white today.. `cause me…” he shook his head and paused, “uumm..”

“Oh, white, oh I thought everybody liked coloured ones these days.”

Joel looked around, he really wasn’t too strong on subterfuge or thinking very far ahead. “Thing is see, see me mate likes white so’s I though I’s wear ’em as well.”

“Oh!” the boy was pure manna from heaven to Tomlinson. “So, so.. were you two going to.. uumm.. well, to do something then?”

“Hope so!” nodding, giggling, blushing Joel squeezed the end of his cock to try to halt the flow of precum naively adding. “Talking with yer’s really got us all excited!”

“Us is right!” agreed Tomlinson, he glanced at his watch knowing he had to reel Joel in while there was still time. “So what’s your name? I’m Clive.”

“Joel.” more giggles and more precum. “Clive, oh that’s posh innit!”

“Would, uumm.. so Joel would you be around here next Sunday about this time?”

Both precum and adrenaline were building, he nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah.. wot yer means here?”

“Yes, right here,” Tomlinson swallowed, it was too easy, “and would you wear your white pants as I always do?”

“Yer do? Well, if yer wants I’s `spose, wot the same ones?” more giggles, “They’s might be a bit spunky by then like!”

“Only a bit?” he smiled. “I like them really spunky!”

“Hey, I gotta go, Luke’s coming!” suddenly announced Joel seeing Luke cutting across the grass to join the path, approaching with both hands in his pockets.

“So, is that your friend, Luke?” he nodded in Luke’s direction. “The one also with the white pants.. looks like he has glasses?”

“Yeah and he gotta matching white vest!” more embarrassed giggles and grins.

“I might have a vest, should I wear that for next Sunday then? Have you got one?”

“Might have, look I’s gotta go.” drunk on thoughts of sex Joel stood up, his jeans bulging and now with a pronounced wet spot. “I’s see yer next week then?”

“Oh yes, don’t forget will you… and you could ask Luke if he wants to come as well!” he smiled. “Maybe he might be interested.”

“Wot!” Joel’s jaw dropped. “D’yer mean it? But yer ain’t met him.”

“If you like him it’ll be alright, but he’d have to wear his white pants like us!”

“Oh, yeah `cause he always wears white,” another useful nugget of information, “right.. uumm.. I’s ask him I’s `spose.. uumm.. well I’s see’s yer then.. then!”

Tomlinson watched as Joel excitedly rushed off to meet Luke. Closing his eyes he could just imagine the three of them, especially Luke wearing only his glasses and his matching set of white vest and briefs.

“Come on wake up, what are you dreaming about?”

“What!”

Startled he opening his eyes, blinking in the sunlight he saw a smiling Jack Wilson standing over him. “You can’t go to sleep, I haven’t got that much time.”

“Come on then, we’ll get back to the flat.” said Tomlinson slowly getting to his feet and putting his daydream to bed. “You’ve got your kit?”

 

“Who were that bloke then?” Luke glanced backwards as they walked towards what was remained of the castle ramparts and city wall.

“Dunno, he came and sat on me bench, said he were waiting for somebody as well.” Joel added proudly. “Didn’t take I’s long to guess he were a bit queer as well!”

“Shit! Why? Wot d’say then?” Luke stopped, this was exciting. “Wot d’he do then?”

“We didn’t do nothing except play with our willy’s though our pockets, he asked if I’s would wanna meet him here next week!”

“Fuck!” this was more than exciting. “Wot d’yer say? How old is he?”

“He’s sorta twenties I’s reckons, not that old, anyhow’s I’s said I’s would!”

“Fuck that’s brave innit?” reiterated an almost jealous Luke. “Yer ain’t is yer? He won’t gonna murder yer or nothing is he?”

“Nah. He said if yer wanted to come along yer could!” Joel grinned. “I’s hopes yer will. Will yer?”

“Ooh fuck! I dunno! Bloody hell!”

“The other thing is if we does go, we’s gotta wear white pants `cause he always wears em!”

“Wot? So he must like ’em then do he?” Luke moved off the main path and threaded his way between some bushes. “Come on this way, I’s been here gert loads.”

A faint path led to the base of the huge castle wall where there was a small opening and inside out of view a few worn stone steps leading upwards. Joel followed up the steps taking note of the line of Luke’s underpants through his jeans, the stone steps finished at what appeared to be a small concealed platform within the thickness of the wall itself and had originally been a turning point for the staircase. What would have been the continuation of the stairs had long been blocked by fallen masonry which had left the platform safe from observation yet with an excellent view though a couple of arrow slits should anybody approach.

“Gor, I’s didn’t knows this was here, it don’t look like yer can’t be seen do it?” said Joel looking round. “Yer could come here for a wank anytime!”

“Wot’s think I’s been bleeding doing then!” Luke giggled. “I’s been coming here since I’s were twelve, when our mums about in the house and I needs a quick `un!”

“Well lets get on with it then.” Joel grabbed hold of Luke and manoeuvred him into position. “Yer stands there and looks out they funny window things and I’s start to get yer going.”

“Yer’s got us fucking going already!” Luke laughed as Joel’s hand groped it’s way around to feel the lump in his jeans and trace the zip.

 

In the opposite direction to the park Bella and Cilla had left the shed and with increasing discomfort were making their way home. Cement dust having been in plentiful supply had adhered to just about everything below their skirts so progress was becoming rather slow. In addition to the quantities of cement which Kelvin had managed to implant with his roving fingers, by some strange quirk of fate the dust had begun working it’s way up their respective crevices through a sort of reverse capillary action. It was wreaking havoc deep inside their pink, slimy, girly bits and had begun to produce a stinging, itching effect on whatever it came in contact with.

Having got as far as leaving the carpark Bella had tottered to a halt with her legs clamped firmly together. She, well actually they, really did look awful for both were covered in the dust and where the excesses of bodily fluids had come into contact huge patches of cement were firmly stuck. And, it wasn’t just stuck to their clothes, for anything below the waist had suffered, in particular their legs where the streaks of girly substances had oozed were now highlighted the cement coating.

“Bleeding hell, Cill’s I’s can’t go on much more `cause me fanny stings like hell when I walks, wot the fucks happened to us?”

Bella looked around, the remaining tarantula eyelash was hanging drunkenly from her left eye to compliment the garish make-up which having received Kelvin’s full on spunky discharge had partially dissolved and then run down her face.

“Dunno, mine do itches as well, it must be that bleeding dusty shed.”

“D’yer reckon it’s safe to shove me fingers up and give it a gert scratch!”

Cilla thought. “But, yer can’t pull yer knickers down here and do it here can yer?”

“Nah, but I’s ain’t got `em on, they’s got all wet and so I’s left `em!”

“And I’s still ain’t got none on,” she grinned and looked at Bella’s mini, mini skirt, “I’s can’t see yer fanny so if yer’s don’t bend over it’ll be alright!”

“I loves the wind blowing up it!”

“So does I, but right now I”s need a piss!”

“Well.. oh fuck..” more thought was required and Bella wasn’t very good at thought, “uumm… well, `spose us stops in they bushes down the road and yer do it there?”

“Yeah,” Cilla nodded, “yeah, that’ll be alright, I’s can hava piss in the bushes.”

“Yeah, yeah,” chorused the insatiable Bella, “I’s might do it as well.”

Some five stinging minutes later the girls had arrived at the small group of bushes which had been originally planted to conceal an electrical sub-station. Not that they were the first to use the cover of the foliage for illicit purposes since the ground was strewn with some dubious objects, clothing, paper tissues and torn condoms.

“Ready?”

“Hold on, I’s wanna watch!” Bella, thrust a hand between her legs to confirm she was already very aroused at the thought. “Yeah, right ready, yer can piss now!”

Cilla with legs apart faced Bella, braced herself, pulled her skirt right up to reveal her mound caked in cement, she began rub at the spot where her clitoris should be. “I’s gonna rub meself up, then start pissing!”

“No! Cill’s, just hold on `cause, I’s wanna do it with yer,” interrupted Bella excitedly, “turn round a bit so’s we’s can watch each other!”

“Yer starts to piss when I does!” commanded Cilla.

It was certainly a novel idea and fully in keeping with their deviant habits, watching each other closely and excited by the risky outdoor situation it wasn’t long before Cilla deemed her climax was imminent. With a satisfying groan she released her bladder, Bella followed moments later the urine squirting through their fingers to combine with the dust and slither down their legs. The journey home promised to draw some interesting looks especially with their shoes now rather wet.

 

Back at the shed, Kelvin had been recovering from his orgasmic ordeal, leaning against the wall he contemplated nothing in particular except feeling of the lumps of concrete forming under his foreskin. Perseverance was not his forte, so he quickly gave up on the idea of picking them out and instead with some difficulty pulled his jeans over his shoes leaving him pretty well exhausted, for once his dusty member was actually sagging.

“Shit, I ain’t got no pants!” announced Bogbrush pulling at the remains of the elastic waistband which was all that was left after Bella had been at work.

“Bollocks and I’s forgotten to put ’em on as well!” added Kelvin. “I bleeding knows I’s forgotten something, well I ain’t taking these fucking jeans off again `cause I’s fucking knackered now having just got ’em on!”

“Shit!” reiterated Bogbrush.

“Why don’t yer wear mine then?” said Kelvin. “Won’t be the first time we’s swopped, they’s here some place ain’t ’em?”

“Yeah. Right, if yer’s sure.” Bogbrush started to look about as Kelvin pushed his hand down the back of the jeans and started to scratch his bottom.

“There’s something sticking in me bum!” he announced. “And it’s all fucking prickly!”

“Well it ain’t me!” Bogbrush started to laugh. “I’s proper wanked out now can’t do anything else.”

Kelvin was doing a magnificent job, systematically exploring his crack with one slimy dexterous digit, while in his mind the situation had been enhanced by the residue of Bogbrush’s earlier deposit which aided by gravity had now started to seep back out. Understandably, for being Kelvin, the nearer the digit progressed towards a certain spot the more difficult it was to resist the temptation to explore inside as well as out. Thus on the highly complex sliding scale where bottom play equated to cock play he was becoming erect again, with that in mind and then seeing Bogbrush trouserless and about to put on the semen soaked orange briefs the result was inevitable.

“Bog’s, wot the bleeding hell’s stuck in me crack, will yer have a butchers?”

“Ain’t worth asking if it’s clean is it!” Bogbrush laughed.

“Well yer did hose it out for us!” the jeans were already being pushed down.

“I’s tried me best. So bend over then, wot’s I’s looking for?”

“Cheap thrill! Nah, there’s something stuck there.”

“Yer has taken yer finger out?” he laughed, knowing that it didn’t take a crystal ball to guess what was going to happen.

“Yeah, but yer could push yer’s up if yer wants to check.”

“Strange yer should say that innit!” it was exactly what Bogbrush had thought. “Bend over, let’s hava gander then.”

“Oooh… don’t stop keep looking!” sighed Kelvin encouragingly “Press harder!”

“Oh shit!” Bogbrush really started to laugh, even peering into the dark abyss of Kelvin’s bottom didn’t seem to phase him. “Yer gotta bleeding spider up yer hole!”

“Wot! Wot’s mean?” exclaimed a very alarmed Kelvin, scared of arachnoids however big. “It ain’t spun a bleeding web has it!”

“Nah yer fucking twatt course it bleeding hasn’t! Fucking look!”

Bogbrush thrust his lubricious finger in front of Kelvin’s face to which adhered Bella’s other eyelash, now in a squashed and very sorry state having originally fallen onto Bogbrush’s pubic hair and then been firmly impressed into Kelvin’s crack during their recent coupling.

“Why’s yer got her bloody eyelash up yer bum!”

“Oh fuck off!”

“Bet her’s won’t wanna it back now!”

“Hey, hey, Bog’s listen, listen,” Kelvin lowered his voice, “could yer try and get it hard so yer could fuck us again? I’s fucking desperate today and I’s rather have yer than they girls!”

“Oh shit. Yer means it?” replied Bogbrush blinked. The days events had ensured the emotional tide was now about to engulf him as well.

“Yeah, course I fucking means its.. oh fuck!” it was definitely a high tide and the waves were sweeping over Kelvin. “Fuck… Bog’s, just me fuck again.. now!”

“I’s want’s yer and all.” Bogbrush had his right hand already wrapped around his swelling organ. “It’s going up… yer gonna be lucky!”

No lubricant was needed.

 

It had been quite a tight fit for the two men inside the sleeping bag, nevertheless by doing so they had enjoyed evoking memories of being back in camp in the small tents with the boy scouts. Now that Wilson was married with children he had had serious reservations of getting involved with Tomlinson and what it might bring about emotionally, but the truth was the truth as he been really looking forward too what might be aptly termed, the reunion. So much so that on Tomlinson’s very enthusiastic instigation they had even gone so far as to enhance the experience by planning to wear white underwear and shorts just as they did many years before.

Looking young for his age and certainly not in possession of a tanned, rippling physique Tomlinson had really lived up to his part as the small frisky, pubescent young boy scout. He suited the part even down to not being that well endowed, would constantly play with himself through his pocket and still wore matching white underwear as when he was a boy.

It followed that with such a subservient young boy under his command Wilson, as patrol leader naturally took the master role and instructed the eager Tomlinson in the performance of his anal duties. Twice to be precise. That routine again stemmed from when Tomlinson was younger and would regularly share both tent and sleeping bag with his equally randy young friend Terry. Wilson on discovering what was happening between them, based on the grounds of disciplinary action had found it easy to talk them into allowing him to be included in their nightly games and insisted on being anally invaded at least four times between the two boys.

There was no doubt that afternoon they had both had enjoyed themselves and Wilson who, unlike Tomlinson had not been actively engaged in the pursuit of other men or preferably adolescent boys, now realised what fun he had been missing. Wilson changing from his scout’s outfit watched Tomlinson prancing around in his rather typically camp manner in his white underwear, the sight of which spurred him into making a conscious decision to have more boy contact. The immediate option was to do something with Connor who seemed to be almost throwing himself at him, yet maybe as a first step he should take up Bogbrush’s thinly disguised offer since with slightly more cerebral power the likelihood of divulging anything would be less.

“I met some boy in the park while I was waiting for you,” Tomlinson, rubbed the front of his briefs and twanged the elastic. “I said I’d meet him there next Sunday!”

“Shit, you don’t waste time! How old was he?”

“Fifteen, at most.” it looked from the hand down the front of the white briefs as though Tomlinson was erect again and as always was ready for further action.

“So you’d be seeing him after we’ve met up on the Saturday then?”

“If I’ve got any spunk left after servicing you! ” he laughed. “Thing is I told him to bring his mate who..”

“You what!” Wilson laughed. “He’s bringing his mate, for fuck’s sake Clive you’re going to get caught.”

“Worrying isn’t it?” the hand was very active inside the briefs. “Can you manage a wank before you go?”

“Bloody hell, you’ve cum twice already! Still you always could keep going couldn’t you? I suppose that’s what you’re relying on with that boy!” Wilson grinned looked at his watch. “Love to oblige but I can’t, really I can’t as I’m late as it is.”

“Shame.” pulling the waistband under his balls the circumcised sub-five inches twanged into view.

“Oh fuck! You are a dirty sod!” Wilson looked enviously on, knowing he dare not be late to getting back home or his wife might start an interrogation.

“Always was.”

“Look as for those two boys, why don’t you just have a wank on the bench together and I could watch from the bushes!” he grinned. “Then if you think it’ll be alright you could fix it up for the following week?”

“Would you like to join us?”

“Tempting, but I’ll be in the bushes the first time round, you’ve got to remember I have to be careful as I teach a lot of the kids around here!”

 

Having finally made it back to the estate, albeit with many rest stops since their overtaxed boy bits were suffering from extreme sexual excess, not to mention added cement dust Kelvin and Bogbrush had separated to return to their respective homes. Kelvin who had indulged far more freely than Bogbrush was beset with some major physiological problems in addition to his leaking sphincter and appalling appearance. The cement under his foreskin had caused a dreadful itching and a similar sensation deep inside, well beyond finger poking range thanks to Bogbrush’s full length foray and powerful delivery. All that was enhanced by his not wearing any underpants which gave the impression the rough seams of his jeans were slicing into whatever remained of his boy bits.

Looking as he felt, he arrived back at Chez Twerks hoping to quietly make his way to his room and get out of the clothes so comprehensively doused in bodily fluids, both male and female. Instead he was waylaid by Jason, who as was his wont had just returned from doing something involving a lubricated finger in the infamous shed. Knowing it was the afternoon of the meeting with Cilla, Jason had decided to hang around to catch Kelvin and hopefully find out exactly what happened.

“Bleeding hell! Wot the fuck’s happened to yer?” quite shocked at his brothers appearance and stepped back to take in the sight for even by Kelvin’s low standards it was beyond anything seen so far. “Yer looks bleeding knackered and wot’s all that shit that’s stuck to yer clothes?”

“Keep yer bleeding voice down.. where’s mum?”

“Fuck knows! Having a fag I’s `spect in the kitchen like wot she always do!”

Jason took a closer look. He sniffed, he looked, he sniffed. The jeans had large wet, smelly, sticky looking spots everywhere where cement had adhered and on seeing the dark patch shimmering in the light at the rear he giggled. Quite plainly Kelvin must have gone for the full gambit of sexual excess whatever it involved, but just what were all the deposits as they did not in his vast experience all look like semen? And, then there was the strange smell, it certainly wasn’t the usual fragrance of boy type adolescence.

“Wot’s that bleeding horrible smell, has yer been to fish shop or summat?”

 

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