This Can’t Be Happening Ch. 24

My journey continues. Thanks to all who have read, voted, commented, PM'd me or added as a favourite. Your support is very much appreciated. All names and locations have been altered to maintain anonymity.

I had no idea what time it was, but my bed was just too small for both of us. Lewis was sound asleep so I slipped out, grabbed a blanket and lay on my floor cushions. I drifted off quickly.

When I started to wake up, I could see it was light, but I could also feel something on my face. Then through the slits of my sleepy eyes I saw Lewis. He was kneeling next to my head wiping his morning hard on over my cheeks and lips.

"Wakey wakey," he said softly.

He'd already pulled my blanket off and my cock was hard. It took just a few moments to realise what was happening, then my mouth was filled with cock. He held the back of my head and started to slowly fuck my mouth.

"Mmmm, that's nice Dave," he moaned down at me. "Much better than a morning wank."

He reached down with his free hand and began playing with my nipples, knowing the effect it would have on me. My Achilles heel. He was definitely a quick learner. My cock spasmed and began to leak.

"Ooh," he cooed. "Looks like someone's feeling horny." His cock filled my throat.

I could hear movement on the landing. He saw the panic in my eyes put his finger to his lips. "Shhhh"

A gentle knock on the bedroom door and my mothers voice asking if we were up yet. Lewis stopped, his cock fully in to the hilt, hand holding my head still.

"Morning Jackie," he called out. "I'm up already and I'm just getting Dave up." He smiled down at me.

"Ok Lewis," she said cheerfully as he began to fuck my mouth again. "I'll put a clean towel in the bathroom for you. Do you want coffee?"

"Thanks Jackie," he called out fucking my mouth in long deep strokes. "Yes please. Think I need a coffee this morning."

His spunk filled my mouth as I heard her say it would be on the table in 5 minutes.

He pulled out. "Fucking needed that mate." I licked him and sucked the remnants of his cum from his cock. "Want me to play with your nipples while you toss yourself off?"

I nodded my head, still trying to get to grips with that fact I'd only been awake for about 10 minutes and I'd already swallowed Lewis's spunk. He pushed his soft cock back in my mouth. "You can suckle on that while I watch."

His fingers started to tweak and flick my nipples while I stroked my cock. Fuck. This was hot. His soft cock still tasted of cum. I closed my eyes as he pulled my nipples hard. "Fuck me Dave, your nips are better than some of the girls I been with."

It was the thought that he'd been talking to my mother as he fucked my mouth that really brought me off. The risk of getting caught, I guessed. That and the hard attention he was giving my nipples. Nobody else had ever played with them like that. He quickly moved his hands away as the first 3 shots hit my cheek. The rest sprayed my torso and groin.

"Yuk Dave," he said in disgust. "It's on my arm you dirty cunt. You should go to the fucking doctors or something." I still wasn't sure if he was joking when he said those things. Then he got up, put his underpants on and went off to the bathroom, leaving me there to come down.

I lay there still not quite believing what had just happened, yet I couldn't help but smile to myself. He was back quite quickly and started to dress.

"You need to get yourself cleaned up Dave," he said casually. "I'm off for that coffee. I'll tell your mum you're getting a shower first."

I could hear them talking downstairs as I scurried to the bathroom, using my hands to stop any cum from falling onto the hall carpet. Showered and dressed in shorts and T-shirt, I made my way down to the kitchen.

Everything was normal. We all chatted. My mother went upstairs to get ready to go to work and left. Lewis and I chatted as if nothing had happened, which was a relief to me. The fear that our friendship might have suffered seemed unfounded. He didn't shower and within the hour he left for work.

The first thing I did was rush upstairs to get the carrier bag. I grabbed the panties. Yes, they definitely needed washing and after checking the stockings, I decided they did too. I hand washed them in the kitchen sink. When I was satisfied they were clean, the only way I could dry them was outside on the washing line. We lived in a terraced council house with a decent sized garden, but was overlooked on one side by an elderly couple.

I'd been brought up there and only knew them as Mr and Mrs Davidson. They were a nice enough couple, his wife was always quite chatty when she saw me. Mr Davidson was not quite as friendly. Years of picking up my errant football from his prized vegetables beds and roses had caused some friction. He kind of frightened me to be honest. He was never outright rude though. Grumpy was an apt word.

I checked to see he wasn't in his garden and quickly hung my washing on the line, hoping they'd dry quickly. Then I want about my chores. A lot had happened over the previous couple of days and try as I might I couldn't stop thinking. Carols husband, Gary. Lewis. Mr Ali. Coach and my new hours at work. It all crept into my thoughts as I busied myself around the house. I was determined not to masturbate too. I'd been doing far too much of that.

After a couple of hours I checked outside to see if Mr Davidson was out in his garden. All looked clear so I went out to check if the washing had dried. It was dry enough so I started to unpeg everything and then I saw him come out from behind his greenhouse. He looked directly at me, smiled and shuffled over to the low fence that separated us. Shit! My face immediately flushed bright red.

"Morning David," he said unusually cheerful. I nodded my head and responded. It was too late to try and hide my lingerie. He'd probably already seen it anyway.

"Its a bit unusual to see a lad washing his mums undies," he said leering at the bright pink knickers. Fuck it! How was I going to explain myself? I had this thought that he liked my mother, the way he always happened to be outside whenever she was. Always making a point of chatting to her. The way he watched her in the garden or when she was hanging the washing out, looking at her underwear. Not that it was particularly sexy. Not like Sarah's. The very same lingerie I was holding, that he was now ogling.

I was flustered. I certainly didn't want the lecherous old fucker to think it was my mother's. I was caught between a rock and a hard place.

"They're not my mothers," I said defensively, without really thinking. Maybe I was hoping he wouldn't push it. I was wrong.

"Oh?" he questioned. His mouth curled into a smirk. I could only imagine what he was thinking. "Whose are they then?"

Shit. Fuck. I could feel the heat of embarrassment burning in my cheeks and then it happened. My mind pleaded. Not now! My cock burst into life. The loose football shorts I was wearing tented right there in front if him. My automatic reaction was to look down. Maybe it wasn't obvious. It was. When I looked back up his grin said it all.

I was frozen to the spot, my mouth open but I couldn't come up with an explanation. I was completely lost for words.

"Don't tell me they're yours," he said, the grin even more menacing.

God, the sheer humiliation was overwhelming and my fucking cock started to twitch violently. I could feel the flimsy material of my shorts bouncing. I wished the ground would open up. Maybe I'd wake up from this nightmare.

Time seemed to slow down. I should just turn and walk away. Yes, that's what I should do, but no, I just stood there, cock twitching and red faced.

"I always thought there was summat queer about you," he mocked. "You a gay boy then?"

What? Who the fuck did he think he was? Did he think his age gave him licence to speak to me like that? But humiliation was the only thing I could feel. My cock was leaking as well. I was paralysed. Physically scared to look down, lest he saw the inevitable damp patch. I shook my head.

"If you ain't gay, what are ya then?" His eyes drifted down to my crotch. My erection had a mind of its own and I felt a large splurge of precum spill from the tip. Why did I pick white shorts! I felt sick. Unable to swallow.

"I......I......" was all I could stammer.

"Come 'ere," he said. I walked the few steps, until he reached over the fence and took the panties from my hands. Holding them up he smiled again.

"They had sissy boys like you when I was in the navy," the smirked. "Lot of sailors get pent up when you're at sea for months on end." Looking down at my shorts again. "You a sissy boy then?"

My brain had completely stopped functioning.

"Wha......what do you mean?" I spluttered.

"A fuckin' sissy boy," he hissed. "You like dressin' up like a fuckin' girl for men."

Another squirt of precum leaked out as my cock continued its uncontrollable jerking.

"Should've guessed," he sneered. "Don't think I ain't seen you getting picked up and dropped off by that fuckin' queer," he carried on. "And that geezer you fucking work for. I've seen you in 'is car. I ain't fucking stupid. You dressin' up for them? Does Jackie know?"

I shook my head. How could this be happening? A ringing noise filled my head.

"No, I bet she don't," he said handing the panties back to me. He turned away muttering to himself and shuffled off to his greenhouse.

For a few moments I just stood there trying to move, then I looked towards their kitchen window and saw Mrs Davidson doing some washing up. I turned and ran back inside. I needed to catch my breath. My whole world was caving in. What was he going to do? Had Mrs Davidson seen or heard? Would he say anything to my mother? How many times had he seen me with Phillip or coach?

I stood there for god knows how long, vainly trying to process what had happened. I wanted to run and hide from everything. Instead I put the lingerie on the kitchen table, dropped my shorts to my ankles and masturbated right there in the middle if the kitchen. 30 seconds later I sprayed a torrent of cum over the tiled floor. The release was almost painful. I felt dizzy when I finished. I moved to the kitchen sink, my shorts still around my ankles. I needed to splash my face with cold water. At the same moment I saw Mrs Davidson's face peering through the window.

SHIT!

I was on the verge of fainting. My knees buckled and my body went cold. Could it get any fucking worse!

Could my life get any fucking worse than it was right now!!

Before I could truly comprehend my situation, she walked into the kitchen. Jesus Christ, my cock was still leaking cum! I broke down. Falling to my knees I broke down and cried like a baby, struggling to gulp air as I sobbed. I kept apologising. I'd never felt such shame.

I expected her to be upset. To shout at me. To tell me how disgusting I was, but she stepped forward, took my hands to help me stand up. Then without saying a word, she bent down to pull my shorts up and guided me to one of dining chairs to sit down.

"Nothing I haven't seen before," she said calmly as she went to the sink and gathered a bowl, cloth and floor cleaner from cupboard underneath. "You just sit there and pull yourself together."

She filled the bowl with water, then I watched as my elderly neighbour got on her hands and knees to clean up the mess I'd made. As she went about the task, my sobs turned to sniffles and then stopped completely.

She finished up, put the bowl and floor cleaner back in the cupboard and after draping the cloth over the edge of the sink, came over to me.

She was a small woman, around 5'4" tall. I guessed in her younger days she would have been quite slim, but now she carried a little extra weight. Her blue rinse giving no indication of what her natural hair colour once was. She was wearing a pale blue blouse, flower patterned skirt that reached to mid calf and a red flower patterned apron tied tightly around her waist. I assumed the slightly shiny, tan coloured hose on her legs to be tights, just a little bit wrinkled at the ankles. The black slippers had a cuff of white fleece.

I distinctly remember the tights and slippers, the tights in particular. I remember the sheen and the way they gathered at her ankles.

I apologised again, starting to feel pretty pathetic. She waved her hand, dismissing it.

"When you've been around as long as I have there isn't much that shocks you," she said smiling kindly. "Don't you worry about Alfie either. He won't say anything to Jackie and if he upsets you anymore, you just come and tell me. I'll sort him out. He knows which side his bread's buttered," she added with a a wink.

The relief of knowing my mother wouldn't find out was everything I needed to hear and I thanked her.

"And the 'other thing' I saw," she said. "I won't say anything to Alfie. It'll be our little secret."

After she'd left I sat on the chair for a while. My emotions were all over the place. Eventually I picked up the lingerie and took it upstairs to hide it, then flopped onto my bed. How I would react when I next saw them was anyone's guess. Whatever the case, I felt confident Mrs Davidson would keep her word.

Throughout the rest of the day my mind would torture me with reminders of what had happened. The intense shame of Mr Davidson holding the panties up and asking me if I was a sissy. The humiliation of knowing he could see my erection. However, that was nothing compared to how I'd felt when I saw Mrs Davidson at the window, or pulling my shorts up, or watching her clean my cum from the floor.

The reality of that hit me hard. How had she kept so calm? What did she think of me? What was she thinking when she saw me masturbate and climax? Disgust? Revulsion? It didn't feel like that. She'd taken it in her stride. It left me with with more questions than answers.

When my mother got home from work I was already about to leave for the my shift. We didn't have much time to talk, but she made a point of telling me not to stay late because she wanted to talk.

My evening at the shop was unusually normal. Nothing happened at all. In fact Phillip barely spoke and he didn't spend much time downstairs. In many ways it was a relief. A welcome break from everything that had been happening.

Once home, my mother made me a sandwich while I sat in the kitchen with her. Watching her do this everyday task was also a surprise comfort given what had happened there earlier that day. Yet watching her walking over the spot where Mrs Davidson had cleaned my spunk from was also bizarre. What would she say if she knew? I quickly pushed the thought away.

Then she sat at the table and it began. "I'm worried about you David," she said. "I don't like the idea that this job will get in the way of your swimming."

So we talked over the benefits and repercussions. I told her that coach intended to talk to me about it, but it might mean me giving up the club. However, I was an adult and I should do my best to pay my way. She tried to argue that we could cope, but I could see in her expression that the extra money would help.

"In any case," I told her. "I can still swim, just not competitively."

So that was that. I'd made my mind up. But it wasn't over for her.

"Its not just the swimming or the job," she said tentatively. "I'm not sure I like you working for Phillip. All these late nights with him. I just don't understand what you have in common."

I started to fidget, my face flushed and my cock betrayed me once again. I began to speak, but she held her hand up.

"It's not just Phillip either," she continued "You've stayed out with coach too. Not just late, but overnight."

Mr Davidsons words immediately came back to me. Was it obvious to everyone who saw him that coach was gay? Was it the same with Phillip? Did my mother know that too? Had she seen what Mr Davidson saw?

My humiliation was taking over. I needed to get away. I shouldn't be sitting there hard with my mother sitting opposite me. I fought my emotions. I needed to stay in control.

"I'm not gay," I said. It just came out. I guess it needed to be said. Maybe that's why I did. It had a surprise effect though. My embarrassment subsided. My erection too. I wondered if I should tell her I was bisexual but wearing lingerie had complicated things.

I could almost see her mind working. Trying to work out why I'd been late home so often with Phillip and coach. Trying to reconcile what she thought she'd seen.

"Listen mum," I continued. "I'm 18 years old, in fact I'll be 19 in a few months. Whatever you think I can take care of myself. You don't need to worry about me, I promise."

There was no way I was about to discuss my sexuality with my mother. Fuck, I hadn't even come to grips with it myself really, so how could I. I just wanted her to know she didn't need to be concerned.

Her expression softened. "I'm your mother David, it's my job to worry." She held my hand adding that I could talk to her about anything. The topic moved on to something more mundane as I finished my sandwich. For the time being she was happy.

I edged and masturbated for nearly 2 hours that night in bed letting the events of the last couple of days wash over me. I tried to concentrate on Lewis and Mr Ali in particular, but I couldn't. As I pinched and pulled my nipples I couldn't stop thinking about the way Mr Davidson had spoken to me. The mocking tone of his voice. The smirk on his lips. The way he'd used the word "sissy" as if to belittle me. yet he looked at the erection in my shorts twice, maybe 3 times. Not just glances either.

He'd told me there were sissy boys when he was in the navy and that the sailors got pent up when at sea for months on end. Was he one of those frustrated men? I started to create a fantasy of me as one of those sissy boys. My cock was streaming. I was close. The way he described coach as "that fuckin' queer" with such derision, yet his gaze had drifted to my tented wet shorts. There was definitely a contradiction in his words compared to the look in his eyes.

Then I was remembering what Mrs Davidson had said, what she'd seen and saying it was "our little secret" before she left. It didn't matter about her age or the fact she was my neighbour. I pulled my nipples hard. No, that didn't matter at all. The image of her pulling my shorts back up filled my head. My shaven cock less than a foot from her face. I'd seen my spunk on her hands as she'd twisted the cloth over the bowl.

Fuck! It was all too much and my orgasm rained onto my face, some even landed on the pillow above my head. It was intense. I mean really intense. As the shudders subsided I felt light headed. I managed to clean myself up, but the need to sleep was overwhelming.

I woke up at around 5am with the usual morning erection and the image of Mr Davidson holding the knickers up asking if I was a sissy boy, the first thing in my mind. It took less than a few minutes to climax, the need too urgent to extend the pleasure.

The last thing my mother told me before she left for work was to clean the bin after the binmen had been. I hated doing that chore. It also meant having to be in the garden to do it. What if Mr Davidson was out there too? The prospect wasn't appealing. So why was I hard?

I did my other chores trying not to think about it. So what if he was? After what Mrs Davidson had said, maybe he wouldn't say anything more to me. If he did I'd just have to deal with it. My bravado weakened when I saw Mrs Davidson leaving through the front gate with her shopping bag.

Within half an hour the bin lorry had been and it was time to bring the bin in and clean it. I decided to deal with it the best way I knew how. I went upstairs and put my white shorts on, no underwear, no socks and just a tight black vest on. Fuck him. I put my trainers on and went out to collect the bin, then took it around to the back garden.