DIARY OF A TEENAGE MILKMAN

In the end I told my mother I’d just been slower than usual doing my collections and on the way home had popped into a friend’s house to give him a copy of some homework he’d asked me for. I need not have worried, my mother accepted the story without question and I went to my room to get my schoolwork done, my b*****r on the other hand took more convincing, in the rush to get dressed I’d mislaid my boxers and hadn’t noticed until I was undressing for bed, he just had to enter the room at that very moment and put two and two together and got an impressive four! “What happened to the boxers you had on this morning?” he asked, “Did you piss yourself at school and have to throw them in a bin?” He found this theory very amusing, in an effort to throw him off the scent I agreed with him and told him that it had been a pair of his I’d borrowed. The ploy didn’t work and he started probing deeper, coming up with as many amusing reasons for my boxers going missing as he could think of. Didn’t take him long to reach one a little too close to the truth, “I know,” he said, “You met a girl who smiled at you and came in your pants and had to chuck them in a bush?” Like every other theory he’d come up with I just agreed with him, but he must have seen something on my face because he suddenly leapt on me, pinning me to the bed. “You dirty little bugger, you’ve been getting your end away, admit it, you’ve been dipping your wick in some little tart!”
I was struggling to get free of his grip, we were pretty well matched and I knew I could best him even if he was two years older than me, then he noticed something I hadn’t considered. “You stink of pussy, the smell of sex from you is reeking,” he practically shouted. I told him to keep his voice down as he would waken the whole house, I tried to convince him that he was mistaken but he would have none of it, I had to tell him something. “Spill the beans,” he told me, “I want to know all the juicy details, and leave nothing out, Who, Where, When and most importantly, How the fuck did you ever manage to get yourself some pussy?” Tact was not my b*****r’s strong point, he was eighteen and had far more experience with women than me, he’d often come home late at night and would wake me so that he could tell me all the gory details. One night he’d come home with what looked like a small globule of cum hanging from his chin, I didn’t ask and he didn’t tell but there was no mistaking what it was. He had a girlfriend at the time so I put it down to an accident during sex with her and let the matter slide. Back then there wasn’t such a thing as openly gay or even bisexual men in our town, there was the usual rumour mill about certain guys, most of whom we both knew to varying degrees. Only one was openly gay, or claimed to be but we thought it was just attention seeking from someone who wanted to stand out. We seemed to have quite a few “gayish” friends between us but it never bothered us, they didn’t advertise it and we didn’t pry, it was their business and had no effect on our friendships even to this day, so what if they were gay, who cared ? All that mattered then as now is what they were like as a person, it’s how we should all be judged by our peers, none of that had a bearing on the finale to my evening.