Jack in Y-Fronts and his Landlady

He was surrounded by these girls, three years older than him, in the narrow hallway, feeling their skirts rubbing against his bare legs. Some had the widest possible skirts, with cinched in waists, though Sally had a shoulder-revealing pencil-thin dress. Millie stared at him through cats eyes glasses. Their Max Factor perfume flavoured the air, and the whiff of lipstick heavily applied.

Seeing their eyes widen as they looked close up at his body hair or his biceps or the constantly slithering waist band, above all, at the perfectly defined bulge in the front which left little to the imagining...

...Jack felt very exposed indeed.

So for a long evening he was pressed into the small parlour, with skittish girls, two to a chair and squatting on the floor, him straight backed in a dinning room chair but always under pressure from Julia, who enjoyed snapping and ordering him in front of the others, to fetch cordial or tea from the kitchen, to adjust the gramophone, to answer questions. Or to accept the outstretched hands of Irene in her broad black and white stripped skirt and Gwendolyn in her floral pints to get up and step across the room, even manage a dance step or two.

On one occasion this initiative - it was Sally's- saw his Y fronts slither and reveal his left glute, to gasps and giggles from the three girls who caught the momentary revelation. On another occasion they all caught a revelation of his pubic hair when, stepping in with the teapot, he suffered Harold Ellroy's ancient Y fronts suddenly sagging over his groin...and he had to deposit the pot with lightning speed to salvage his dignity and yank them back into place.

And days later the girls buzzed with their observations on the evening.

"So Mrs Ellroy forced him to come down, in just those pathetic undies? Why, oh why didn't he object?"

"Because some men just obey females. He does anything they tell him."

"Others love it- like Jimmy, the other lodger, or her son Davey. They would grin away all night, just wanting us to look them over. Remember how they'd spread their legs, let bits spill out? And pretend they didn't notice? Even that hairy little one got to like it, especially when we tugged his all the way off."

"But this Jack was sooo shy. Did you see the look on his face when we had him up to the gramophone and Millie pointed to the thing hanging out of the hem and said, 'Jack, what's that!"

"It was his dangly ball bag!"

"Disgusting!"

"And I saw it drop out again- when you grabbed his arm and hauled him up to look at the Al Martino record! Oh, he hated that! So funny! And then later he knew it had fallen out yet again but there was nothing he could do about it with you holding one hand and me the other pretending we wanted to dance!"

"What about the bulge in the front? What a monster of a head on it," said Olivia who, as a girl, had enjoyed several boyfriend in the motor works and knew a bit about male anatomy. She then had to spend time telling Gwendolyn and Jessie and Sally about the penis and scrotum and testicles and they were full of questions, having been bewitched by the bulge which had been so obvious and as Sally noted, "It seemed to be moving around...of its own accord...all night."

Then Millie shattered the chatter.

"I...saw...it...all," she pronounced. And grinned with pride.

On one of his trips to the kitchen he seemed to be taking longer than usual. She had stepped into the hall and saw him half way along the corridor rooted to the spot with a difficult-to-balance tray loaded with sandwiches and lemonade.

"And his cock had popped right out the Y front. It was hard as a hammer, as my older sister says about her boy friend. Just sticking out. Big and bold, long and thick...with this fat, pink hat on it...and covered in veins, all pumping away, pointing up at Mrs Ellroy's chandelier!"

The girls gasped and swooned and gripped one another.

"What did you do?"

"I walked up to him and grabbed his waistband and tugged the Y fronts all the way down to his knees. He was rigid with fear. I had a good look at everything- took my time, oh my god, it still makes me shudder- which he absolutely hated and then tugged the briefs up again. Just like a good mam looking after my big son. I then gave him a big sloppy wet kiss. You might have noticed he came in bent over and nearly crashed the whole tray on the table and dived for his chair and crossed his legs!"

A reverential silence.

Said Gwendolyn, "And our Julia gets to see this everyday."

"Don't even think about it girls. I've already asked Mrs Ellroy if she's room for another boarder!"

That night, after the girls left, he was bursting with excitement. In his bedroom he stripped off his Y fronts. Completely nude he slipped under the covers. The covers reached his chin. He loved the feel of the crisp clean sheets on his naked limbs. He reached down and stroked the smooth brown skin of his dick, already bolt hard.

He imagined the eyes of the females as they had crowded in the front door...he remembered his sweet shame holding the briefs up and seeing where their eyes went...he kept telling himself that he had been effectively naked with six young women a few years older than he, for hours...that they had seen his ball sac fall out...and one had seen his whole cock stiff...and had pulled down his...

He was stroking, and close to a delicious climax.

...yes, Millie had yanked his Y fronts and feasted her gaze...on his stiff dick...

Suddenly his reverie was broken.

The bedroom door snapped open.

Mrs Ellroy entered and was suddenly sitting on the bedside.

"Jack, now I'm planning a picnic. With the Partridges. One weekend. out in the forest. You would be the only male. Wouldn't you like to come, sacrificing one day at the gym?"

He instantly agree, hoped she would leave.

But she noticed his folded pyjamas on the table.

"But...that's the pyjamas! Jack...what have you done?"

Just his head was visible.

"Do you mean to say that under the blankets you're in your birthday suit?"

Jack looked close to tears. He could say nothing.

At that moment Julia, in her nightgown, appeared at the door. Her eyes were shining with prurient interest. Jack had been caught? Nude?

"Well, let's check shall we?"

Matter of factly, Mrs Ellroy reached for the top of the covers and lifted them. Jack felt the air. He lay unmoving like a corpse, his arms were rigid at his sides. He felt his torso exposed to her gaze.

But his midriff was in shadow. She may not have made out his erection. However there was no sign of underpants- that much was clear. The boy was naked.

Julie entered the room and was trying to peer over the raised covers her aunt was holding up.

Addressing her, Mrs Ellroy said, "Well, so much for my sewing and stitching. Jack's chosen to set his pyjamas aside and sleep naked."

She snorted a "tut tut" sound of regret. As if the boy had deeply disappointed her.

"Is he...nude?" ventured the girl, with awe.

Mrs Ellroy stood up and lifted the covers higher.

Jack felt displayed, as if in hospital being looked at by a female doctor and a nurse, lying on the bed stripped for an inspection. Totally, one hundred percent naked. This was a little story he often entertained himself with, when he was on his own, and he would add details and colour- making the doctor a stern middle age lady with glasses and her hair pulled in a bun, and having her gently lift his cock...her hand in a rubber glove...to examine it...and then him "suffering" an erection.

in this sweet day dream the young, pretty nurse would stare hard at his silky, light brown stem as it started its stretching, her eyes wide and with a big smile...while Jack's cock irreversibly stiffened. And the doctor would lift his scrotum, as if presenting his balls to the nurse's view. Fixing this tableaux in his mental picture show, Jack would stroke himself to a lovely explosion.

Now, lying here, it were as if his fantasy were coming true. Mrs Ellroy as doctor, Julia as nurse. A rocket shot of excitement surged in his veins. He trembled with shame. His cock became more rigid, reaching from the lolling flesh of his ample balls up to his navel.

Still, in the shadow it was impossible for them to make out any details. But that he had completely disrobed was undeniable.

"Yes, naked as the day that he was born."

Julia peered hard over her aunt's shoulder. Oh, to have caught him at being so wicked! Stripping himself and hopping beneath the sheets starkers. She felt excited to her core.

There was nothing- just nothing- like trapping a young man nude.

"I caught Davey once at the same game. Checked him under his covers. Didn't have a stitch on. Secretly nude under the sheets. 'Well, what a naughty boy,' I had said, to shame him. 'Getting all hot and bothered under the sheets, are we?' Davey had been very aroused."

"What did you do when you caught him?"

The notion was clearly exciting to the lanky 20 year old.

"Well, ordered him out and had him stand before me. An embarrassed naked boy is one thing, but naked in front of his mother- that's something else again. Then I got serious: an over the knee spanking. Not by me but Gerda, with her huge palm and mammoth arms. And I didn't buy the argument he was too old at 18. Not one little bit."

Lying flat under the raised bed clothes Jack dreaded what would happen if she turned on the lights.

His landlady told him to get up and put his pyjamas on.

He obeyed fast. By hauling his far leg over and swinging out of the bed he was able to avoid Julia getting a glimpse of his stiff steed. Mrs Ellroy may have caught a flash, bouncing from his groin. But as he rummaged with his pyjamas the two females certainly caught his rear illuminated by the light from the door.

Mrs Ellroy was struck by how muscular and manly were his globes, in the lurid chiaroscuro. Julia thought the cleft in his bottom deeper than ever, muscles rising like boulders either side. They had plenty of time to watch his glutes clench and strain as the boy shook free the folded pyjamas, struggled to flop the legs in a hanging position and bend one leg at a time to pull the pants on. Then the shirt.

He stood before them in his stripped pyjamas which he held at the waist stretching it to prevent his jutting penis poking through the open fly.

Mrs Ellroy said they would say more in the morning.

But it was Julia who bore him the cruel news.

As he sat at breakfast, with Mrs Ellroy in the corridor, talking on the phone, Julia leant across.

She whispered her doleful message.

"Do you want to know how you are going to be punished? Not by her, not by me- although that day will come, believe me. She's on the phone to Gerda Halloway. She used to be a governess at boys' schools. Then at a naval cadet academy in charge of discipline. Now she's sought out by all the mams- what we call mothers in Manchester- for the good ole fashioned stuff. Boy, does she spank with that huge palm of hers, and her arms are bigger than yours..."

Jack gasped.

"...and her selection of straps is gonna come in useful too."

"The other lodgers here. Did she..?"

"Oh yes, regularly. And Davey as well. Oh, she made them roar."

Mrs Ellroy entered.

"That's settled. In two weeks, when she's back from Blackpool, you are booked into seeing our own Gerda Halloway for some cracking discipline.

At the Y on Saturday afternoon Jack swum 10 laps and climbed from the pool. Old Johnny, also buck naked, was standing under a column, his doleful testicles dangling to his knees. The veteran took him aside and offered Jack two guineas a fortnight to conduct evening swim classes three times a week. "Told the manager you were a real cock, and everyone likes you. He's a good un I said, doesn't drink or smoke or waste time on girls. An influence for the better on other 18 year olds."

Jack shone. More cash for body-building food and vitamins.

But he had one reservation.

"When we do training or races...do mothers...and sisters get to come in? In Great Russell Street, it happened a bit and fellas like me got embarrassed."

"I know...embarrassing to have the old dears or the freckle faced sisters get a look at yer tallywhacker. Hated it myself, a mate's sister coming in to see her brother win a comp. And staring...staring hard...at all of us walking around in our birthday suits. Mothers were worse. I'm just coming in to see Billy swim, they'd say, and they spent the whole evening eyes popping at every young man in the place. Comparing the jiggers on our mates with their ole man's...or their boys'! Well, Jack mate, let me tell yer: it's a matter of getting used to it."

A shadow passed.

"See that fella who just went by?"

Over his shoulder Jack caught a glimpse of a V shaped torso that might have been Steve Reeves, striding with his clenching buttocks from the steam room into the weights room, his Ducks Butt haircut slicked flat.

"He'll be our next Eugene Sandow, the heaviest set of pecs..."

But Jack's mind was elsewhere. If Mrs Ellroy heard he was coaching young male swimmers- nude himself, and his boys without so much as a stitch- she and Julie would be here in a flash, with their friends. Like Miss Kerr Sutherland or the Partridges, mother and daughters, or the frisky young women Julia brought home- to look at me, he thought. Including that sweet Millie who had kissed him and tidied him up in the hallway. And Mrs Elvie Byrne whose eyes had bulged at the sight of his cock sticking out of his denim cut offs.

The fear lodged in his gut.

He was in the oldest, loosest pair of Y fronts on a Sunday afternoon, seated watching the cricket, when the doorbell rang.

He hadn't been expecting visitors.

"That will be Mrs Lacey from next door," called his landlady from the kitchen. "Let her in, Jack."

He rose and felt his briefs sag. He cursed that, again, his best pairs were in the wash. In fact this morning this pair was the only one in the drawer. It was so worn, just about transparent, he knew the females could see not only the shape of his "meat and veg" but their colour.

Had Mrs Ellroy arranged this? The thought nagged.

Mrs Lacey was the attractive 28 year old newly married to George, a broad shouldered young man with a Duck's Butt or Elvis hairstyle who worked for the Greater Manchester Fire Service. Jack had seen him shirtless in their back garden several times and had boggled at his massive pecs with a deep groove running up the middle. Take those pectorals and weigh them at the butchers and they might come to a full stone, Jack had calculated. What training had piled on muscle like that? And what diet? Defined, too, just like Steve Reeve's.

But astonishingly, last time I saw him George had been gardening in Y fronts! Was this common, here in Manchester?

That time Jack had let the curtain fall back into place, just as George had looked up in his direction. Jack had fantasised the two of them might get together and talk fitness and exercise, swap diet tips, even work out at the Y. Jack thought he might recruit him as mentor. More than old Johnny at the Y. Hell, jack thought, I'm 18, he's 28: I can learn from his 10 extra years of dedicated training.

And what else? Talk about life in Y fronts? Talk about the problem with old elastic? Swap stories about how our balls slip out? How to hide a tent pole?

When her handsome young husband was at the fire station on night shift, Mrs Lacey might be glimpsed at her upstairs window looking down at Jack, gardening in just his briefs or, more recently, his teensie denim cut offs. The fact the young housewife was watching him made him shamed, but stirred him too.

Now she was calling on them. Jack groaned inwardly as he moved into the corridor.

Why isn't the Y open Sundays? I'm trapped here all day, with my old landlady showing me off to her 28 year old friend from next door, and I'm dressed in just a pair of her husband's worn-out briefs. And fuck! My left bollock has just flopped out of the loose legging!

Holding the waistband in one hand and stretching the hem to scoop up his dangling testicle, Jack opened the front door, burning with shame.

Mrs Lacey was a vivacious brunette wearing a wide, floral skirt, nipped in at the waist- an hourglass figure- and pink scarf hanging loose from her neck. The brazen smear of scarlet lipstick confirmed she had dressed for the occasion, and the wave of perfume too.

She greeted the abashed boy with a dazzling smile. "Wow! You must be Jack! Hiiiiiiiiii!"

She greedily took in the chunky torso and the artistic distribution of his chest hair and the fuse running down his torso into his waist band...

...the contoured legs..

...and the heavy hang in the groin of the Y fronts...

...and she took in the frailty of his Y fronts- sagging, baggy, showing off his shape.

Seated in the parlour- the two ladies sprawling back in lounge chairs and Jack before them sitting straight backed in a dining room chair- Mrs Lacey, or Darlene, wasted no time on small talk.

"I think it's a wonderful idea. Very, very sweet..."

Here she threw more gazes at Jack's waist.

"...to have your man wearing nothing but briefs. I sooo loved coming here when Davey was home, and that lovely lodger Jimmy from Liverpool, even that cute little shy fella..."

"Billy, with all the shaggy body hair," giggled Mrs Ellroy.

"Yes, he hated my visits but got used to them. As for Jimmy and your Davey, they just loved showing off. What about you, Jack? Do you like being..."

She gestured to his midriff.

"...forced into Y fronts, put on display for females?"

He blushed a deep cranberry.

"I think he's still a trifle shy," said Mrs Ellroy. "But your visit helps."

"Well, my good news is this: I've got George doing it. I started the new regime last week. I said it's that or you don't get my special meals which he needs if he's to win the Eugene Sandow Physique Contest. I said, 'George, I go into Mrs Ellroy's place and I'm seeing young men virtually naked and she has the pleasure of well-built boys in their Y fronts and I'm coming home all randy and want to see my husband the same way...and all the time!' "

Jack struggled to take this in.

"He's a very fit man, your George."

"Yes, and he's now a Y front man...and this was my real victory...he's got to stay in them when visitors come! Even though he hates it! He thinks all the ladies who see him will giggle and think they're superior."

"Let me assure you, Darlene. He'll get to like it. Well, congratulations. Julia and I can't wait to visit. And bring Jack."

"We can compare their muscles. When George works on his muscles he comes home and flexes for me. In fact, it would be a treat...to compare you with my George! We'll do it- compare the two of you, our own little body competition!"

Mrs Ellroy was not slow. "Yes, we should do just that. Let us compare the two fit young fellas. What fun that will be!"

Compare? In what way? Compare what?

Jack was terrified, just as Mrs Ellroy had intended. She looked him over with a concupiscent gaze.

"Jack, pleassssse flex for us!" begged the young housewife.

Which led to an order from Mrs Ellroy for Jack to stand up, which he did with a groan and a scowl of discomfit, busily hitching the waist of his failing Y fronts. Then Mrs Ellroy ordered him to adopt the poses of muscle builders. Both ladies then fell over themselves to make suggestions. In response he clenched his chest muscles...flexed his biceps...squeezed his triceps...turned in profile...

This rotten pair of Y fronts is gonna slip from my waist any minute...look at that old Mrs Ellroy..look at the devilry in her eyes...she's just waiting for them to fall...she planned this...this morning, all my others in the wash...what a low trick...and just the oldest, the most worn with the weakest elastic...left in the drawer. Yes, I can hear you, you old boiler, I'll flex my arms again. There you go, get an eyeful of that, Darlene. Suck in my belly? You bet, young Mrs Lacey, I'll make it concave- flatter than George's. But...uh oh! They are beginning to slide!