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Subject: BILLY’S TIGHTIE WHITIES 3 The following continuation is fictional, though it is based on a real-life incident. It involves an adult and minors in sexual situations. Please do not read if you are under 18 or if the content is illegal in your jurisdiction. Email me if you liked the story or want to comment ast. Thanks, Jon. Nifty needs your donations to provide this valuable platform fty/donate.html BILLY’S TIGHTIE WHITIES 3 For the rest of the afternoon we were all in the pool. Billy climbed out of the pool and cannonballed back in next to me. The pool water and chlorine had washed away the evidence of his piss play. But I started thinking about how I could get him to do things like that again. The story will continue in Chapter 3. How far will I get with Billy? How far will he go in his clothing-optional activities and with pissing? Will it stay just us two? CHAPTER 3 Monday was a field trip day. Once every two weeks we took the kids on a walking field trip somewhere fun. Today we left early and walked to the movie theatre, for one of their summer dollar movies. Then we walked on to a nearby park for a picnic lunch. It had rained all weekend, so the ground and everything was still pretty wet; fortunately, there was a large covered area with picnic tables that we were able to use. Billy rarely left my side the whole morning. He was wearing his usual sleeveless t-shirt (white today), above a pair of pale blue shorts that hugged his crotch and ass and barely any of his thighs. Though I hadn’t had a chance (yet) today to see what he had on inside of them, I’m sure it was a pair of tightie whities (I never saw him wearing any other kind of underpants). On his feet were a pair of dirty Keds, with no socks. His minimal outfit was so hot to me! Everywhere we walked, he held my hand (unusual for an 11yo boy, I know, but like I’ve said he was always openly affectionate). During the movie he sat in my lap, which allowed me to discretely fondle him through his shorts (I even managed to slip my fingers inside through the tight leg openings). I noticed that Billy was drinking a lot of liquids, and I only saw him to go the bathroom once. He drank a large soda during the movie, and even got halfway through a refill; at lunch, he polished off three cans of soda. Where does such a skinny boy hold all that liquid? I wondered if he had some pee play planned. Sure enough, as lunch progressed I noticed him rubbing himself a lot, and a small wet spot appeared in his crotch. He saw me looking at his groin, and gave me a big smile and a wink. After about an hour of eating lunch and letting the kids run around in the warm sun, we packed up the leftovers in Mrs. Phillips’ car (she never walked with us on these trips, but drove to our destination and met us there) and headed back to the center. Billy, of course, attached himself to izmit escort my hand; the sun had dried the front of his shorts, but his undies had to still be damp. He was extra fidgety, and was holding himself for longer stretches of time. I leaned down and asked if he wanted me to find a place for him to go to the bathroom; he whispered back that he was seeing how long he could hold it in. As we walked along he gave out periodic grunts and groans, sucking in his breath. I wondered if wetting his pants in front of everyone would be too embarrassing even for him; after all, he was eleven years old. But whatever he decided to do, I would enjoy the show! We turned a corner two blocks from the center, and many kids let loose cheers that we were almost back. Billy now had a constant grip on himself, with a pained expression showing behind his smile. I wondered if he had leaked much, and almost whispered him to move his hand away quickly to show me, but I knew that would probably result in his completely losing control. So I just let him do whatever he had planned. Looking up, I noticed a big double semi-trailer approaching us. Too late, I also saw that the roadway next to our group was half-covered in rainwater. Before I could do or say anything, the truck was speeding alongside of us; its tires hit the puddles, dousing us with wave after wave of the dirty water. We were all soaked. Not a single person escaped the drenching. Most of the girls screeched and whined, flapping their hands and wiping at their clothes. But most of the boys cheered and jumped around, reveling in the unplanned “bath.” After helping the other adults in checking to make sure no one was hurt, I looked at Billy. I recognized that closed eye, goofy grin expression on his face from last week; looking down, I saw twin rivers practically pouring down both of his legs. We got back to the center as fast as we could. All the kids were herded into the 2 changing rooms, and the staff quickly came up with a plan. Hardly any of the kids had changes of clothing there, and we knew that no one had brought a swimsuit because it was a field trip day. Fortunately, the center had a washer/dryer set. I went into the boys’ changing room, and the rest of the staff (all women) went in and got the girls. After I explained the plan to the boys (there was about a dozen of them), we waited for a knock on the door. 10 minutes later it came, so we headed to the laundry room between the changing rooms. One by one we all stripped out of our wet outer clothing and put it in the industrial washing machine. Giving me a sly grin, Billy declared that his undies had gotten soaked, so he peeled them off too. And twelve boys, plus one man, filed down the hallway in our underwear to the TV/game room. Plus one naked boy. The boys all giggled as we went past the closed door of the arts and crafts room, yahya kaptan escort where they knew all the girls were gathered in just THEIR underwear. I closed the door behind the last boy, and looked around at them. Except for 15-year-old Sean (the oldest “child” at the center), who wore big baggy boxers (which I teased him about and called “Grampa undies”), we all wore tightie whities. After a quick discussion, we voted to spend the next two hours watching cartoons while we waited for our clothes to get cleaned. I tuned in the TV, turned off the lights and closed the curtains, and we all settled on the floor. Billy sat in front of me, between my outstretched legs, leaning back against my chest. Taking advantage of the darkness, I rubbed his smooth chest/belly with one hand (also tweaking his nipples and poking his belly button). With my other hand, I played with his dick/balls/pubic patch. My own erection was trapped in my briefs between us; Billy kept rubbing the small of his back against it, causing me to leak precum into the pouch. We kept each other right on the edge; when I felt either of us getting too close, I stopped us until we calmed down. A little way into the first cartoon, I felt another small pair of hands rubbing my calf. I looked over and saw the back of a small blond head framed in the light from the TV, so I reached over and poked him in the side. He turned his head and looked at me, and I saw that it was 9-year-old Matthew. I patted the floor next to me, and he scooted back against me under my arm (which I wrapped around him and pulled him close). Being one of those cute little boys that everyone (man, woman, boy, or girl) oohed and aahed over, people were constantly commenting on how cute he was. His Aunt brought him to the center for the first time 2 weeks ago; he was visiting with her for a month, but she was still working while he was there. While the other boys were constantly vying to be his playmate, the girls kept trying to mother and baby him. He was small for his age, but seemed to be pretty smart. Matthew had quickly latched onto me, which was common with the boys as I was the only male staff member at the center. He became my 2nd favorite student (next to Billy, of course). But aside from their blond hair, they were very different. While Billy’s hair was straight and shoulder-length, Matthew’s was much shorter and somewhat curly. Billy was very skinny, had a deep all-over tan, and his legs and arms bore all the dirt and scrapes and scabs typical of a rough-and-tumble boy. On the other hand Matthew was somewhat pudgy (like he still retained a fair amount of his baby fat), had very pale (almost translucent) skin, and was always very clean and well-groomed. They also had very dissimilar personalities; Billy was outspoken, loud, and a leader type, while Matthew was extremely gebze escort quiet, shy, and a follower. But they had one thing in common: both boys were affectionate. I continued to manipulate Billy’s hard-on and balls with one hand. When I pulled the other hand away from his belly, he replaced it with his own and began to rub his stomach and chest (playing with his nipples as I had). Matthew’s body was aligned with mine in such a way that my hand dangled down just right to fall down onto his bottom. As I started to run my hand all over his buttocks, caressing them through his Fruit of the Looms, he stretched out his legs along mine and began to rub his soft foot against my knee and upper calf. The three of us barely changed position for more than an hour; as the other boys stared intently on the TV screen, my little group and I focused on each other. How I managed to keep from shooting off multiple times I’ll never know, but my erection was rock hard the entire time. As was Billy’s. And I couldn’t see Matthew’s, but I was sure I could feel his little nail poking me in the side. Just as a third hour of cartoons was beginning the door cracked open, and Mrs. Phillip’s voice came through. “The clothes are all washed and dried and the girls are dressed again, so you boys can come get your clothes on.” When she closed the door Sean got up and turned the lights on, and all the boys got up and headed to the door. It took several minutes for the boys to comb through the pile of clothes and find their own, and that time was punctuated by occasional shrieks and laughter when a girl walked by the crowd of underpants-clad boys. I also heard gasps when girls spotted Billy’s nude state, along with his erection. `Most likely the first one any of them have ever seen,’ I thought to myself amusedly. I managed to keep my own seriously-tented briefs hidden away from prying eyes. Except, of course, from Billy’s. He sat on the bench, still naked, and watched me get dressed. Once I was again fully clothed, I looked at him. “Billy, at least put your underwear on.” I looked down at his pile of clothes. “Where are they?” At first Billy just looked at me with that goofy grin if his. Then he reached under the bench and pulled out his still-peewet briefs. I thought, `That little scamp, he didn’t put them in the washer with the rest of the clothes!’ And I was right. He held them out to me, and they were still quite damp. He put his feet through the leg holes, stood up, and pulled them up his legs. Then he pulled on his shorts over them. “It feels good this way!” he exclaimed, patted the front of his crotch, then put on his shoes and shirt and ran out the door. I shook my head and smiled at his cheekiness, and followed him out to the playground. Sitting in a chair next to the other teachers, we talked about the day’s adventures as we watched the students running around and playing. And I noticed that Billy and Matthew were playing together, often running around while holding each other’s hand. Stay tuned for chapter 4. And don’t forget to send me an email with comments, or to chat about this topic.

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