Chapter 3 Nigel Sees Something Rather Peculiar
The impending arrival of Mum and the sudden crisis with Nigel injected
in all a sense of urgency. Claris and Jeremy raced into the house,
Nigel slapping along behind them in his swim fins. By the time Nigel
got in, Jeremy had already thundered up into the bathroom to change,
all the while Claris urging him to greater speed.
"Hurry up, loveyduck!"
"Loveyduck?" Nigel scoffed, screwing his face up in disgust as he
peeled off his swim fins, "That's so yacky."
"Oh, shut up, you twit," his sister snapped back, "Get upstairs and
Nigel made a farting sound at her and climbed up the stairs. He
abruptly had the urge to piddle, so he opened the bathroom door and
went in.
"Bugger! Can't anyone have any privacy around here?"
And Nigel saw Jeremy sitting on the toilet dressed in little more than
a shocked look.
"I'm sorry," Nigel said, closing the bathroom door behind him, "I've
got to have a pee."
"Can't you see I'm on the crapper," Jeremy said, "Have a pee in the
tub."
Jeremy was indeed on the toilet, but only in a very peculiar way. He
was sitting on the closed lid with his trunks dropped round his
ankles. And when he spoke, he hadn't looked up. Rather, beneath his
mop of curly chestnut hair, he was staring into his lap.
"If I pee in the bath tub, I'll get in trouble," Nigel said, "I'm
supposed to sit on the toilet."
"Alright, alright," Jeremy let out an exasperated sigh, "Fine! Sit!"
He stood up, impatiently kicking his trunks off, and stepped to one
side. As he did, Nigel's eye caught a glimpse of something odd. As
Jeremy swung round, a drop of clear liquid, which Nigel thought
resembled baby drool, dripped in a long strand off the end of his
penis.
"Thank you," Nigel said, politely ignoring the oddity and climbing
onto the toilet seat. Sensing Jeremy's discomfort, the boy tried to
make light conversation.
"I don't like to wear bathing suits. They're too tight, and when I
take it off, it makes my skin all knobbily. Do you like bathing
suits?"
"Hurry up, would you?" Jeremy growled.
"I can't pee." Nigel eventually said, "I've got a stiffy and I can't
make it come out."
So he climbed off the seat. Jeremy sat down again. Nigel watched him
intently. The boy was clearly worried about something.
"What are you staring at?" the adolescent boy said curtly.
"Does your todger have a cold?"Nigel asked with sincere concern.
"A cold?" Jeremy ridiculed, "What? Are you daft?"
"Well, it looks like it has got a runny nose," Nigel reasoned, "That's
what my nose looks like when I've got a cold."
"Your nose looks like a todger?" Jeremy retorted, concealing his penis
between his legs.
that?"
Nigel's sincerity and innocence was so disarming, even to the uneasy
ego of an adolescent boy, that Jeremy actually answered the question.
"I don't know," he confessed, "It's not pee. It's never happened
before."
"Can I see?"
"Are you a doctor now?" Jeremy gave the boy an irritated look. "Get
off."
Nigel simply waited with an expression of patient perseverance he'd
learned from Mummy. At last the older boy relented.
"Alright, but don't you tell anybody!"
"I won't."
Reluctantly, Jeremy parted his legs slightly, and his partially erect
penis rose. Nigel leaned forward to make an examination, just as he
imagined Dr. Medill the paediatrican would. Jeremy had a smooth and
peachy-coloured penis; a rather small one for his age, but it was
stout and well-proportioned, with a tuft of chestnut hair fluffed out
at the base, which Nigel thought was very nice indeed.
"Hurry up!" the adolescent boy grumbled, rolling his eyes. Nigel
pulled the older boy's foreskin back just slightly, just enough to
reveal the smooth, rosy head.
"Don't do that!" Jeremy ordered.
"It looks like a shiny fireman's hat," the little boy observed. The
tip glistened in a pure and clear secretion. Nigel delicately
touched the liquid. It was slippery and warm and when he drew his
finger away, another shining strand stretched out.
"It's like honey," Nigel said, and he lifted the penis up, "Does it
hurt?"
Jeremy brusquely slapped the little boy's hands away and jumped to his
feet. He wiped himself off with the edge of his shirt and then
rummaged through his clothes to find his smalls.
"Why do people get elections?" Nigel suddenly asked.
"You mean a boner?" Jeremy muttered, "So you can rodger some lady I
suppose."
"Roger?" he asked, "You mean Daddy?"
then gave an aggravated sigh, "It's like this, see? If you like
someone, you know, your todger gets hard so you can have sex. Got
it?"
"So does that mean you like me?" the little boy asked, flashing a
grin, "You had a stiffy when we were in the pool."
"Blimey, no. I mean with a girl."
The small boy scratched his head.
"So, do you like Claris?" Nigel asked, "You got an election when she
pulled down her bathing suit and showed you her bee stings."
"Where did you learn that crap?" Jeremy griped, hiking up his
trousers, "Stop asking so many questions! Yeah! I like her! Have I
got your permission to see her?"
"It's alright with me," Nigel replied earnestly, failing to appreciate
the mystery of adolescent sarcasm, "You can see her if you want, but I
think girls are mushy."
"Would you just be quiet?" Jeremy whined in exasperation, and stomped
out of the bathroom.
"Will I get hair down around my willy like you?" Nigel suddenly asked,
changing the subject.
"BELT UP!"
Chapter 4 Nigel Has a Nocturnal Revelation
That evening went typically for Nigel. At supper he ate just enough
spinach to qualify for a dish of ice cream, he watched the tellie
until eight o'clock, and then he put on his pyjamas, sat on the
toilet, and drank a tall glass of water. He climbed into bed cuddling
his stuffed Pooh while Daddy turned off the lamp and closed the door.
Then Nigel prepared to go to sleep by softly whispering his special
incantation in Pooh's ear.
"Dirty monkey's underwear
Everybody's going to stare
At dirty monkey's underwear."
And hoped he wouldn't have night scares.
Unlike the evening, the night would prove to be anything but usual.
Nigel had just begun to nod off when a little dream drifted into his
mind. He dreamed he wasn't hugging Pooh anymore. In Pooh's place, he
Nigel felt something move at the front of his pyjama bottoms. This
startled him so he was instantly awake. He snatched up the little
penlight he kept under his pillow for just such emergencies. Clicking
it on, he dived beneath the sheets, flashing the light all around
nothing. Just to be safe, he yanked off his pyjama bottoms and threw
them on the floor. Then he clicked the penlight off and lay on his
tummy. He always felt safer on his tummy. Before long, images of
Jeremy flowed back into his thoughts.
There it was again! Nigel sat up with a start. The boy clicked on
the light and shone it down into his lap. And there, peeking coyly up
at him from below his pyjama shirt was a little but resolute pink
erection.
"Look, Pooh!" he breathed in awe, "I've got a stiffy!"
Normally, that was rather mundane albeit pleasant occurrence. Like
all little boys, Nigel had erections daily and he never knew when
they'd come. His penis pretty much made all the decisions. He'd get
one during a history lesson in Mrs. Farthley's class, or while eating
Devonshire cream, and once whilst wrestling with Evan and once at St.
Peter's during communion, which he thought may have been a sin. Most
often he'd get a very hard one early in the morning, warning him to go
to the lavvy. It was never up to him, and there appeared to be no
particular reason when his penis decided to have one.
But this, Nigel comprehended, was different, for it was he who had
decided to have one. He'd thought of Jeremy and his penis had sprung
up like an obedient little guard. And the boy found that the more he
thought about Jeremy, the harder his erection got. It was a wonderful
discovery and he rubbed himself for awhile. Rubbing had always felt
good, but when he rubbed it and thought of Jeremy, it felt ever so
much better.
Nigel lay back down on his stomach, cupped his hands forcefully over
his erection and thought and thought and thought of Jeremy. Very
soon, his stiffy was beating to the rhythm of his heart. Perhaps if
he tried hard enough, the boy thought, he could make honey fluid like
Jeremy's. If only he had something tickly to rub against. What to
use?
Pooh, of course.
"Come here, Pooh." Nigel whispered, grabbing the compliant stuffed
bear.
The boy pressed his pelvis against Pooh's bottom, gently rocking and
rubbing back and forth, thinking of Jeremy. Goodness. He was
beginning to perspire, so he threw the blankets and his blue print
Piglet sheets onto the floor and resumed his mission. He'd rub for
awhile, and then he'd stop, click on the pen light and check for
progress. Nothing.
It was proving harder than he'd hoped. He stripped off his shirt and
went at Pooh again. Back and forth, back and forth, a little bit
time he checked for fluid, there was none. More forcefully this time:
began swaying, for it wasn't put together too particularly well and
Suddenly, the bedroom door creaked open and a shaft of light fell
across the bed. Nigel froze.
It was Mummy in her house coat. Nigel, hunched over Pooh, his hair
damp with perspiration and his rosy bottom stuck in the air, squinted
into the light.
"Nothing, Mummy," the boy said meekly. "I'm just playing with Pooh."
"You're making a beastly racket," Angela said will a bit of annoyance,
"It's almost ten-thirty and you've got school tomorrow. Go to sleep."
She sat on the bed beside Nigel.
"What have you done with your pyjamas?" Angela asked suspiciously,
"And you've thrown all the bed clothes on the floor!"
"I'm sorry." Nigel bit his lower lip in contrition. "I was hot."
"Well," she replied, retrieving the blankets and sheets, "Get off Pooh
and get under the covers."
Of course, Nigel didn't dare get off Pooh, least he expose himself so.
So urgently clutching Pooh, Nigel frogged himself up to the head of
the bed with his legs.
"Give me that," Angela ordered, seizing the stuffed animal, "And get
under the covers this instant."
Judiciously, Nigel released Pooh. As quickly as he could, he clapped
a hand over his erection and scurried under the covers.
"Good night, darling," Mummy whispered, tucking Pooh in beside him and
softly kissing her boy on the forehead.
And Nigel saw her glace back at him with a curious smile. Then she
closed the door.
HMSVV 2011
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