Everard - Part 2

 

Blushing, with his head bowed trying to avoid eye contact with his mother, Everard turned back up the driveway with his hands clasping his PJ shorts again.

As he approached the door his mother stopped him.

“Just a minute… I want a word with you young man…”

Everard’s heart was thumping as he looked up and met his mother’s eyes. There was guilt written all over his face as Everard wondered what was coming. He clutched the front of his pyjama shorts tighter.

Everard’s mother was in the doorway leaving her son to stand on the driveway outside the house. Everard could hear the voices of their neighbours on the other side of the low fence that separated the properties. Naturally he was anxious to get back inside the house, but his mother for whatever reason had other ideas.

“What is all this nonsense?” she asked.

Everard didn’t understand. At least he hoped he didn’t understand, otherwise it meant his mother knew more than she was letting on.

“I don’t know what you mean… I’ve taken the bins out like you asked…” he pleaded, turned slightly and by nodding his head indicated the bins at the end of the driveway as if to prove what he was saying was true. Everard was at that stage in which his voice was liable to fluctuate and crack unpredictably, particularly under stress. When Everard’s voice suddenly leap an octave higher, his mother knew she had every reason too be suspicious. It was a sign of a boy’s guilty conscience, something known by mums the world over. 

“I’m not taking about the bins, Everard… You know perfectly well what I mean. You’ve been acting very strangely recently and I’ve a very good idea what it’s about, but I want to hear it from you.”

Everard’s voice wobbled unchecked: “I don’t know what you mean, mum… honest.”

Everard could feel his penis was harder than ever. It was awful to be left outside facing his mother who was stood looking down at him from the step outside the kitchen. Everard was actually squeezing the stiff rod wrapped in the soft cotton of his pyjama shorts.

“And why are you holding on to your pyjamas like that? Are they in danger of falling down?”

Everard was beginning to panic; “No, mum… no they’re not… it’s… it’s… the button…”

Mum stepped down and leant forward. She took hold of Everard’s left wrist and pulled.

“Here… let me see… Everard!!”

“Oh please, mum… no… don’t… please.”

Everard desperately tried to hold the front of his pyjama shorts together with his remaining hand, but mum pushed it to one side. 

“Get your hands out of the way.”

Everard’s penis, fully erect and released from his grasp, popped out of the open fly.

“Oh, for pity’s sake, Everard,” his mum sighed, clearly exasperated by her son’s seemingly priapismatic penis. However she had no intention of letting this interfere with her finding out why Everard’s pyjama shorts were gaping wide open.

“I can’t see anything wrong with the button, Everard. Did it come undone or did you just forgot to do it up?”

A voice was heard to call out: “Good morning Mrs Healy”

Mum looked up to see the head of her neighbour looking over the fence. She held onto Everard’s wrist as she turned to face Mrs Watts, the neighbour. Everard’s penis was on show.

Everard panicked: “Mum! Please…” Again he tried to hide his rampant rod, but it was impossible to cover and with all the pulling and tugging of his shorts, he was scared they wouldn’t stay up much longer.

“Anything the matter?” the neighbour asked.

“Mum… please…”

Mrs Watts caught sight of what was poking out of Everard’s pyjama shorts: “Good heavens! Everard, is that your…?”

“MUM…”

“Everard! Will you keep still! How do you expect me to help when you keep wriggling about?”

Everard was frantic. He could feel his shorts slipping as the cord holding them up became lose. But his mother kept him standing outside, seemingly unconcerned by what their neighbour could see sticking out from the front of Everard’s pyjamas.

“I’m sorry, Peggy… Everard’s having trouble with his pyjamas… Oh stop all this nonsense, Everard, Mrs Watts has seen you with no clothes on plenty of times.”

This had certainly been the case when Everard was a lot younger, but he was fourteen now and hadn’t been seen naked by his neighbour for a long time.

Everard was mortified to be caught like this in full view of Mrs Watts. It was all very well fantasising about being caught naked with a hard-on, but the reality was purgatory.

His mother, in spite of his protests, insisted on doing up the fly button. He pleaded with her: “Please, mum, I can do it.”

“You should have thought of that earlier… now hands out of the way, Everard!”

Without another word spoken, mum took hold of her son’s penis just as she would have done if he was still a toddler and pushed it back into the pyjama shorts.

“Now keep it there while I do up this button…”

Everard pressed a hand against the front of his shorts to keep his penis in place. He looked up, only to make eye-contact with Mrs Watts who had been paying close attention to what was going on the other side of her fence. The sight of his neighbour watching him took Everard’s level of embarrassment to new heights. In his brain the neurons worked silently and unnoticed, exchanging, recording and storing Everard’s emotions across the synaptic cleft as his humiliation continued.

Mum pulled the sides of the fly together. She did up the button: “Now get along inside while I go and say ‘hello’ to Mrs Watts.” 

Everard didn’t need to be told twice. He dashed into the kitchen and even before he was halfway across the room the events of a few moments ago were being relayed by his busy neurotransmitters. Already the intense humiliation he’d just suffered in front of his neighbour was becoming the subject of another masturbatory fantasy.

He was about to race upstairs to his room, already cursing himself for throwing away the key to his bedroom door. Everard wanted some time alone; time when he wouldn’t be disturbed; time for a good long wank as he thought about what had happened outside. Quite why the feelings of shame he’d just experienced gave him such an intense kick was a mystery to him. All he knew was that his cock was still nail-hard. That needed to be dealt with pronto.

He almost ran into Lance in his eagerness to get to his room.

“I saw it! I saw it! Boing! Boing! Boing!” Lance cried gleefully, “I saw you! Boner boy! Boner boy!”

Everard’s voice cracked again at this blow to his ego. He had no control. The stress was too much for him: “Stop it! Shut up! Just shut up!”

Lance laughed as his brother’s voice leapt up and down in pitch. He reckoned Everard was funnier, much funnier than the cartoons he’d been watching on TV. He continued to taunt him, chanting, “Boing! Boing! Boing! Tugger! Tugger! Tugger!”

Everard was furious. The morning was turning into a nightmare. He should have had a wank as usual before he got up. What was he thinking? Was he mad? Lance succeeded in winding him up so much that he almost struck out at his little brother, but Everard managed to contain his rage, which was just as well as he heard his mother’s voice behind him.

“I don’t know why you’re taking it out on your brother, Everard, after all, you’re the one who chose to walk around with that thing poking out in front of you, like it was begging for attention.”

She continued: “I don’t want any fighting between you two… I want you to both to calm down and be nice to each other.” Their mother paused, but by the tone of her voice the boys knew she hadn’t finished.  “Everard, give your brother a hug and apologise for telling him to shut up…”

Everard was incensed:“But, mum…”

“But mum nothing… Lance’s only little and you’re supposed to be a big boy…” she turned to her younger son, “There’s no need to snigger, Lance… you know what I mean.”

Everard stepped forward. He knew that mum wouldn’t be satisfied until he’d done what she asked. The fly button held as he reached out and put his arms around his little brother.

Lance wrapped his arms around Everard, but suddenly jerked back as he felt his brother’s boner pressing against him: “YUCK!! I felt it, mum! His thing!”

“Oh, for goodness sake, Everard…”

“That’s not fair! Lance squeezed me on purpose, mum.” Everard was indignant. “It’s his fault… I can’t help it…”

“That’s enough… you should have been more careful.”

“But, mum, why do I always get the blame… it’s not fair.”

In Everard’s eyes the morning had been a complete disaster. For Lance the exact opposite was true. The eleven year old thought it was tremendous fun teasing his older brother and couldn’t wait to tell his friends what had happened that morning. While not appreciating its significance, Lance now knew the magical effect the use of the word ‘Tugger’ had on Everard.

There was no two ways about it, Everard needed a wank. He slunk on up to his bedroom in high dudgeon, hoping he’d be able to sate his desire undisturbed. Once more he cursed himself for throwing away the key. Everard was in no mood to put himself in any danger. He just wanted to masturbate and enjoy the relief of a climax as soon as possible.

But when he reached his sanctuary Everard couldn’t help but think about what had happened. As he rubbed his stiff penis, Everard became aware of another sensation… that of fear… fear that Lance might easily walk in on him now… Lance would see him and he could do nothing… he wouldn’t be able to stop himself… he’d shoot spunk right in front of Lance… Lance would laugh at him… there’s no key… he could come in… Lance might come in… any second!!!

Everard ejaculated and splattered himself with cum as he lay on his bed. Quickly he cleaned himself up, scared Lance would burst through his bedroom door. More than ever Everard was aware of how easily Lance could have seen everything. Even Everard thought it was crazy to make himself so vulnerable, but the kick he got out of it was the means to bliss out out the most amazing cums. What Everard’s penis wanted, Everard’s penis got.

Only a few hours elapsed before Everard thought up another dare to perform. He’d been daydreaming again thinking about how it felt when he stood naked in his bedroom doorway looking out onto the landing. Just standing there naked, well out of reach of any clothes, had given him a special thrill. What if he was to venture out a bit further? Say, what if he was to wait until Lance and his mum were both in bed? What if he left his bedroom and walked around in the nude? It made Everard horny just thinking about it, so that evening he knew he’d have to put his plan into action.

In bed that evening Everard lay awake with a hard-on. He held held his penis with one hand while he played with his balls with the other. It was a good feeling. Everard wasn’t sleepy at all, kept awake by his excitement at the prospect of doing his dare. 

It was after midnight that Everard got up out of bed and slipped off his pyjama shorts and the old t-shirt he’d been wearing. He crossed the room and carefully opened his bedroom door. He looked out onto the landing lit from the glow of the nightlights. Naked Everard walked on tiptoes to the top of the stairs. With his heart thumping and with his penis rock-hard, he dared himself to go downstairs. Everard was terrified he’d be caught, but the excitement he felt overruled any other emotion and he soon found himself in the hall stood facing the front door. Dare he? Everard reached up and turned the lock as quietly as he could. He pulled the door towards himself and leaned forward to twist his head round the door and look down the driveway. There was no one about. Everard pulled the door open, turned to face the hall, bent forward, stuck his bottom out of the door and waggled it from side-to-side.

It was childish, nay infantile behaviour. A way for Everard to tell the world, or at least anyone unlikely enough to be in the vicinity of the driveway, that he was brave enough to do dares. But in reality it was just a boy showing off by being silly and rude, nothing more. In any case there was little chance of anyone witnessing this gesture, but for Everard it added a certain piquancy to his nude escapade. He closed the door and thought about what else he could do. As Everard wandered around downstairs feeling thoroughly naughty, he suddenly hit on an idea that would really test his resolve. 

He scooted off back upstairs and walked stealthily up to Lance’s bedroom door. It hadn’t been closed properly since his mother had come up to bed and popped into her younger son’s room to make sure he was properly tucked up in bed. Everard pushed the door open a little and was rewarded by the sound of his little brother’s steady breathing that indicated Lance was fast asleep.

Everard crept slowly into the room holding his fully erect penis. He kelt down next to Lance’s bed and started to masturbate while looking at Lance’s closed eyes. “If he wakes up, I’m toast,” Everard said reminding himself of the dangerous position into which he had put himself, but this only made him more excited. “All he’s got to do is open his eyes and he’ll see me… see me naked… see my cock… see me wanking…” Everard could barely suppress a groan of pleasure as he squeezed his penis, masturbating as he watched his sleeping brother. Just then Lance shifted and turned in his sleep and scared the bejeezus out of Everard. The sudden shock was all that was needed to take Everard to the edge. He was going to cum. He couldn’t stop himself. Sanity prevailed for a nanosecond telling him to stop before it was too late, but his cock was in control of his emotions and ready to explode. Everard panicked. He was going to cum. It would go everywhere, all over the place. He made a grab for one of Lance’s t-shirts he saw lying on the floor with his free hand and wrapped it over his cock just as he spunked-up. Everard closed his eyes in ecstasy as he leant back shooting his load of boy-cum straight into Lance’s t-shirt.

Lance moved again and mumbled something in his sleep. Everard knew he had to get out of the room pronto. He got up and made for the door clutching Lance’s t-shirt to his crotch.

Back in his own bedroom Everard couldn’t believe what he’d just done. “Sh-iiit, that was so close!” he said to himself, “If Lance…” and Everard went into a sort of post traumatic shock as it sunk in how stupid he’d been; how he could so easily have been caught. Had it been worth it? Shit… YES! Such were the thoughts of the horny young teen.

After he finished cleaning himself up with Lance’s t-shirt, Everard pulled on his pyjama shorts and climbed into bed. He stuffed the t-shirt, like it was his new spunk-rag, down the crack between his bed and the wall to join on the floor beneath his bed, the crusty flannel Everard had been using to wipe up his cum for the past few months. The flannel was so stiff and crusty with dried spunk that it very nearly scratched Everard when he cleaned himself up after a wank.

Everard lay on his back and smiled, satisfied with his evening’s work. As he drifted off to sleep the words his mother has spoken came back to him, ‘I hope you know what you’re doing…’ Everard grinned, so full of himself… he reckoned he did.

Before he got up the next morning Everard reached under his bed for Lance’s t-shirt and pulled it up from its hiding place. Curious he gingerly lifted up the shirt and held it close to his face. “This is so cool,” he said to himself, impressed by his bravery in creeping into Lance’s bedroom and using his little brother’s t-shirt for an emergency cum dump. He could smell the patches of his still damp spunk, but the overall scent was that of his kid brother. Unconsciously Everard’s hand reached down and took hold of his penis. It excited him to think he was in possession of, and could do anything with, the shirt. He could wank up into again… do it as many times as he wanted. All the time Everard’s hand was at work stroking his now rigid boy-cock.

What Everard didn’t know was that it was Lance’s favourite t-shirt, one that his little brother had been wearing for a few days despite their mum telling him to put on a fresh one, so of course Lance was upset when he couldn’t find it.

At breakfast that morning when Lance made the loss of his t-shirt known, mum looked at Everard.

“Do you know anything about this?”

Everard blushed: “Why should I? Lance wears those smelly old t-shirts for days… it probably fell apart…”

“Well it must be somewhere.” Mum turned to speak to Lance: “I’ll have a good look around… I’m sure it will turn up, Lance.”

She glanced in Everard’s direction. He was sure his mum suspected him and this just made him blush and feel guilty. She’d had a go at him only the other week when she found in his bedroom one of the hand towels he’d used after masturbating in bathroom. The lecture she’d given him about leaving towels lying about instead of putting them back in the bathroom where they belonged had ended with her calling him ‘Tugger’ for the first time; his mother’s way of making it perfectly clear she knew what he’d been doing with the hand towel. 

Everard didn’t need to be told he’d better make sure she didn’t find Lance’s t-shirt or he’d be in serious trouble.

The loss of his t-shirt was soon forgotten by Lance when his friends called round. They were going to carry on with building their hideout in a patch of scrub at the bottom of the garden. Everard hadn’t got much on and was moping about and generally getting in his mother’s way.

“Why don’t you go and see if you can help Lance and his friends?”

“Aw, do I have to?”

“Yes, you do… I wish you boys would get along better. All you ever seem to do is shout at Lance like you did the other day…”

“When did I…”, Everard started to reply before he stopped short when he realised what mum was talking about.

Everard’s mother looked at him and raised an eyebrow.

“Lance was teasing me…” Everard said by way of explanation, “He shouldn’t’ve…”

“That was your own fault,” mum interjected, “You should have had more sense than to wander around with your… thing poking out in front of you like it’s begging for attention.”

Everard was caught between a rock and a hard place; stay and listen to his mum as she reminded him of recent events or go and make a half-hearted attempt to play with his brother and his brother’s two friends. He made a bee-line for the back door.

Mum started to offer Everard a little more of her sage advice: “If I were you I’d… oh, never mind,” she added when she remembered how unlikely it was that a teenage boy like Everard would ever listen to, let alone act on, anyone’s advice. It reminded her to have a look at some recent posts on one of the mums’ discussion forums she kept an eye on to see if there had been any updates. There had been some interesting exchanges about boy siblings, in particular problems between older boys as they enter puberty and their younger brothers. 

She sighed and hoped Everard wouldn’t do anything he’d regret. She too had been thinking about Everard’s recent alternative use to which he had put one of her hand towels. She’d had a good mind to put up a notice in the bathroom in the forlorn hope that it would embarrass Everard sufficiently enough to ease up on his habitual masturbation. The notice was to have read ‘These TOWELS are NOT to be USED for MASTURBATING!’, but the thought of having to sit down and explain to Lance what his older brother had been up to, was enough for her to put this idea on hold… at least for the time being, she told herself.

It was only when he he’d walked out of the house that Everard realised that all he was wearing was a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. He hadn’t even got anything on his feet. Everard had set himself another dare that morning; not to wear any underpants and the shorts he had chosen were one of his shorter pairs. He suddenly felt very nervous about meeting Lance and his pals, but that was the feeling that got him excited. So rather than do the sensible thing and go back into the house to change, Everard carried on walking in the direction of the boys’ voices coming from the bottom of the garden hoping his developing boner wasn’t too noticeable.

Lance looked up when he saw his older brother approaching. Oddly enough, or so it seemed to Everard, Lance appeared to be eager for him to join them. The other two boys, Ricky and Damon, looked pretty keen as well. Lance looked back and must have said said something to the other two boys, but Everard couldn’t hear what it was.

“We’re trying to get this rope over the branch,” Lance explained, holding a length of rope in front of himself and pointing above his head to a level branch way out reach of the younger boys, “Only it’s a bit too high. Can you try?”

Now Everard was on surer ground. He was the older boy. He was taller than any of these little squirts. Of course he’d show them how much better big boys were at building hideouts.

“Easy-peasy… here give me the rope…”

“Can you tie it to the branch?”

“Sure, no problemo.” Everard loved showing off. He took the proffered rope and moved under the branch of the tree.

Everard saw that tying a knot wasn’t going that easy. He’d have to reach up with both arms once he’d managed to loop the rope over the branch. Still, as he’d said, no problem. 

“A couple of loops should do it… then I’ll tie it off.” 

Everard was forced to stand on tiptoe and reach up with both arms in order to tie the rope. Concentrating on what he was doing, Everard hadn’t noticed Lance had moved to stand behind him. It was at that moment it occurred to Everard to ask why they wanted to tie a rope around the branch. 

As Lance uttered the words, “No reason…” Everard felt his shorts being tugged sharply down which resulted in squeals of laughter from the boys facing him.

Needless to say Everard’s shorts caught his boner and his dick sprang up as they were pulled down. Everard’s arms came down like greased lightening. He bent forward in such a hurry that he nearly toppled over in the effort to retrieve his shorts, but in that brief moment Lance peered round to the front of Everard laughing: “Boing! Boing! Boing!”

The laughter from Ricky and Damon stopped immediately and they stood with their mouths agape. They had expected to see Everard wearing underpants and were stunned when they saw a big stiffy bouncing about freely. But within seconds they both joined in the chant: “Boing! Boing! Boing!” “Boing! Boing! Boing!”

It was Everard’s ‘fight or flight’ moment. Instinct told him to pull his shorts up and make a run for it, but what boy would be mad enough to display such a weakness in front of his younger brother? A part of him felt cheated by the pantsing at the hands of Lance. He wanted to be in control. Once more Everard’s internal self-conflict came to the fore. He was embarrassed and humiliated by what had happened, but isn’t this just what Everard secretly wanted? Wasn’t that why his penis was rock-hard to begin with and still was while he finished pulling his shorts back up, which wasn’t easy with three eleven year olds teasing, laughing and pointing at his bobbing cock.

Lance was thrilled with the effect his pantsing was having and started to tell Damon and Ricky about what happened the other day: “It was sticking out of his PJ shorts…” breathlessly he continued, “... and it was bouncing about in front of Mrs Watts next door…”

This was too much for Everard. He stood up with his shorts only just covering his front. His bottom was still bare as he started to shout at Lance to ‘shut up!’ But this only made matters worse when Lance added another line to the boys’ chant: “Boner boy!!! Boner boy!!! Boing! Boing! Boing!”

Everard was livid. He couldn’t believe Lance could be that mean. Annoying, yes; irritating, yes, but not unkind. It was as if Lance had seen how easily he could tease and taunt Everard… and he was going to make sure he took full advantage of the fact.