"What? No camp fires?" asked Jamie, outraged.

"Nah, but look at it this way - they got nice HOT showers here..."

The camp site for our final night was, for once, a proper camp site - fresh running water, toilets that had LOO PAPER in them (not just the space for some), a communal kitchen of sorts and even a small but very welcome shop that was open to some rediculous hour at night.

We did the customary troll round the site to try and pick a half decent pitch and eventually settled in a corner diagonally oposite the amenities block - out of the way, but not so much so that it was a pain to go and get water etc.

The tents were put up again and, after a dozen bent pegs and copious amounts of expleetives due to the insanely stoney, peg-unfriendly ground, thoughts were turned towards the now hallowed commodity of food.

The contents of our rucksacks were 'carefully' ejected onto the surrounding grass, Jamie finding the most amusing method by far of emptying his: He grabbed straps that ran under the bottom of the sack and began to spin on the spot. The pre-loosened top straps soon relinquished their grip causing the top to fly open, allowing tea towels, the majority of a primus stove, a couple of packs of dried chilli mix and a humbug to go flying.

We piled the assorted goodies into a heap, and decided that chilli blancmange sandwiches seemed the most appitising way to go. However Jamie's centrifuge had refused to shift the rice from the corner it'd tucked itself into, and on this monumentous discovery the menu was changed to a slightly more appetising Chilli con carne with rice, bread and butter and strawberry blancmange.

We dumped the pots and pans in a heap next to the pile of "food" and tried to mentally prepare ourselves for the long, arduous task of preparing the meal.

"We could always call for pizza again," suggested Tay, looking suspiciously at the shit-brown powdery stuff that claimed to be dried chilli.

"No - absolutely not!" announced Jamie. "Once The Master has been at this, never again will you want for some dodgy Italian excuse for food from Pizza-u-like... Can someone go get us some water?"

Not wanting to put the brakes on Jamie's self-proclaimed cullinary prowess, I volunteered and rescued the well squashed water bottle from under the pile of pans.

"I'll go check us into the site to make sure Gillie's paid our way... Remember what happened last year?"

The previous group doing the training exercise had fallen foul to Gillie's exceptional planning talents - he'd prepared their route, but completely omitted the part where he called the campsite, booked them in and paid for them: When they were approached by the site's owner, only then did they realise that the site had NOT been pre-paid and they did not have the wherewithall to cover it themselves. A phone call ensued to the school and, after a lot of pleading, sweet- talking and a 20% excess, they were allowed to stay...

"Hey, hold on a second, Dean! I need a leak..." yelled Tay as I meandered off towards the ameanities block. This was immediately taken the wrong way by the other three, chorousing "THAT'S GROSS!", making Tay blush with embarassment...

We walked over to the loos hand in hand, be deciding that relieving myself also was a good idea. We stood infront of the urinals and pushed our tracksuit trousers down enough to allow our dicks to flop out in the general direction of the two porcelain bowls. Not satisfied with the amount of freedom just pulling the front of his tracksuit down, he pushed them, along with his boxers, right down to his knees affording me a wonderful profile view of his tackle: golden pubes, tight, full bollocks and a soft, velvety dick that was simply begging to have a tongue run across it's flawless surface.

I looked up at tay, and found him to be staring straight back at me suggestively. I took the hint and pushed my trousers and kegs down to my knees, my dick starting to swell.

He smiled approvingly and took his cock in his hand, a powerful stream of piss leaping from the tip and arching gracefully into the urinal, twinkling as it caught the harsh white light provided by the flourescent tube above. How someone pissing could enchant one so is still beyond me, but it did!

I dragged my eyes away from him, allowing my own bladder to be emptied. Once my aim was "safe", my eyes immediately refocused to Tay's dick, and then to his face - he was doing the exact same thing as me...

All too soon, the pressure behind the golden stream deyayed and finally stopped, Tay wringing the last few drops out by rubbing his foreskin back and forth over the head, much the same as I did - only this time he simply continued rubbing, the velvety shaft rapidly increasing in length, width and attitue until it was paointing near- vertical, the engorged purple head poking teasingly from its sheath.

"Damn - don't ya just HATE it when that happens?" grinned Tay. "I mean there you are, taking a leak next to the most sexy guy in the world and for some unknown reason, all the blood rushes from your brain to your dick. Bummer, huh?"

"Fancy a shower?" I enquired, my dick having responded in kind. "Come to think of it, this kinda rings a bell... Deja Vu..."

Tay kicked his tracksuit and boxers from round his feet and bent down to release the straps on his hiking boots and in doing so, "accidentally" ran his tongue along my shaft from the very tip to the base of my balls causing my shaft to jerk and me to moan involuntarily. Tay smiled and proceeded to unlace his boots, then stood up again, wrapping his tongue around the underside of my balls and licking upwards, causing them to be pushed in opposite directions in my sack, his tongue ending it's journey by pushing gently into my piss slit.

Tay then pulled his jumper and T-shirt over his head, leaving him completely as God intended, save for the customary chokers around his neck, which to me formed an arrow that poited directly towards the organ that gave us both so much intense pleasure.

I bent down, reaching towards my boots as he had done earlier, but disappointed him by completely omitting the dick-licking bit. I undid my boots, prised them off my feet, then dived towards him, slaming him up against the wall. I dived onto his dick and took it as far into me as I could, squeezing his balls hard but carefully with my right hand and sucked as hard as I possibly could.

Instantly, I was rewarded with a copious jet of his nectar-like, near-clear precum. He grabbed onto my hair and began to face fuck me, his dick bashing against the back of my throat. I changed my position slightly and that was all it took to allow him to enter me fully, his pubic hairs tickling my nostrils. Whether it was his sheer hornyness, the excitement of being sucked off in what was effectively a public toilet or a combination of the two I'm not sure, but within moments he screamed and his balls tightened under my grip, a moment later what seemed like gallons of his sweet, warm cum being injected into my mouth. I pulled back immediately and began jabbing at his slit with my tongue as he came, desperate to appreciate all that he had to give me.

Tay bucked, jerked and moaned as wave upon wave of an extremely intense orgasm rebounded off of every muscle in his body, his knees turning to jelly as the pleasure began to gradually cool off, him slumping into my arms.

We both jumped as a pair of hands clapped slowly behind us. "VERY good!" commented Triv, just having watched the entire performance, a grin that the Cheshire Vat himself would have been proud of on his face. Tay and I both turned cherry red.

"Now that you've had a drink, Dean, any chance of US getting one?"

A tricle of Tay's cum slid down my throat 'the wrong way' causing me to cough and emit a spray of Hansoncum through my nose. Triv just burst out laughing and chucked the forgotton water bottle at me and walked off, shaking his head.

"Sir, could I use the toaster, please?"

"No."

"But Si..."

"THAT'S FINAL!"

Russell was on house duty. This was NEVER good, but the mood he was in made life even worse for the members of the Junior Boys' house. No TV. No toast. Thirty second showers (as opposed to the Russell standard issue two minute ones) and, whenever Russell was within earshot, very little talking.

The whole house was miserable. Everyone, that is, bar a certain Mr. Hanson...

"Sir?" Zac enquired, bracing his ears for the inevitable yell.

"WHAT?"

"Awww Sir, be nice!" he grinned. "I'm gonna use the toaster if that's alright with you..."

"You will NOT use that toaster!"

"Listen, David - it's OK to call you David, isn't it?" continued Zac, throwing his arm around Russell, his spindley frame visibly tensing. "I'm GOING to use the toaster. And you can't stop me."

Russell looked as if he was going to sprout horns and gouge out Zac's insides with a dead haddock - never in his entire career had ANYONE had the audacity to treat him this way!

"Ha.... Ha..." He was so angry he couldn't even speak. "Ha..." This time, Zac interrupted.

"Oh yeah - if you do stop me, I'm afraid that someone important may have to find out about what a really miserable, unkind, pig-ugly, foul-smelling, bad tempered and generally disagreeable member of staff did to me earlier today... Now I'm going to use the toaster, along with the rest of the house, OK?"

Russell had no choice but to swallow the mind full of abuse and belittlement he was about to hurl at Zac. He grudgingly shook his head, trying to give Zac one of his death-stares, but they were fuelled by his reputation, and as of this morning, his reputation was worth jack shit. He turned and began to walk back towards the door to his flat, still not quite believing the magnitude of the damoclean blackmail he was under. ANd to top it all, the blackmailer was a TWELVE YEAR OLD!! Zac called after him:

"Oh, while you're in there, be a pal and get us some butter and the antenna cable for the TV..."

"You'll get no such..."

Zac raised his eyebrows, causing Russell to back down mid-denial and simply go and do what Zac had asked.

"Thankyou, sir..." grinned Zac in an oh-so-false way, practically courtseying as he said it. The moment his door closed, Zac turned round to the rest of his dorm. The look of complete astonishment, wonderment and, above all, smugness was priceless.

"Soooo..." Zac enquired. "Who wants a pillow fight?"

"I hate to say it," said Tay between mouthfulls of Chilli Con Carne "but this actually tastes kinda good!"

"What do you mean, you 'hate to say it'? There ain't 'owt up with me cooking!"

"That's quite a compliment from him," smiled Spider. "Remember, rich- boy here's used to nothing but the best!"

"WHAT? I think you're gettin' just a little too big for your boots there, mister! Another wise-crack like that and I'm gonna have to whip your ass!"

"That a threat or a promise?"

"I dunno - does it sound promising?"

"Uh, kinda..."

One of those 'oh shit - everyone is listening to me' kind of silences fell over the group, Tony suddenly going very red. Triv, Jamie and myself just looked at each other.

"Anyone want a drink?" Asked Tay after a few moments, trying to relieve Spidey of some of the embarassment. As far as Tay was concerned, he knew he didn't have anything to be embarassed about, but Spider wasn't quite to that stage yet.

"Yeah, go for it, Tay! I think I've got some hot chocolate in me rucksack somewhere..." I volunteered.

"How much paraffin do we got left?"

Jamie picked up the primus and swirled it round Ace Ventura style next to his ear. "'Nuff for five cups of hot water I'd say... Tay - you gonna do the honours?"

"Sure thing!"

"You DO know how to use one of these relics?" asked Triv.

"Hey, you're lookin' at Mr. Outdoors, here!"

"Uh huh...."

"You are!"

"Yeah. Sure Tay..."

"Fine - I'll prove it." Tay picked up the box of matches, knealt down by the primus and struck one.

"Uhh, Tay? Just humour me and take that thing AWAY from the tents just a tad, will ya?"

"Geez... OK, Triv - you're tha man..."

Tay picked up the primus and walked a good thirty feet with it. He turned around, placed it on the ground and looked up for approval. Triv grinned and gave him the thumbs up.

Cautiously, tay felt the temperature of the burner assembly on top of the paraffin tank, and jerked his hand away quickly due to the slightly-more-than-bearable feel. He struck a match and held it under the burner to pre-het it a bit more, pumped the handle a few times, then struck a second match to actually light the contraption. To his relief, it lit with a clean blue flame.

"HA - see?"

He smugged too soon - the warm paraffin liquid from the lower half of the burner soon emerged at the nozzels, causing it to splutter and the flame to turn a sooty yellow/white colour. Tay was just about to open the pressure relief valve when the burning liquid began to drop down past the lip on the burner and on to the body of the fuel tank, right over the relief valve.

Tay once again leaped back in surprise, much to our amusement. "Put it out, then!" Yelled Jamie.

"How?"

"How the hell do I know? _I've_ never had a flare-up!"

"Uhh Tay - I'd gat away from that if I were you," I yelled, the primus now nothing more than a quite impressive fireball. Tay followed my advice and walked hurridly back to us.

Triv held his nose and said in a crackly radio-style voice "Huston, we have achieved critical mass and are awaiting meltdown!"

The flaming paraffin dripped down onto the fuel tank, spreading into a pool of white/yellow flame.

"It's gonna go!" yelled Jamie, getting all wound up and bouncing behind Triv's muscular torso, peering over his shoulder.

We all continued to back off as the flames grew higher and higher, the heating of the fuel tank sending the pressure into the red zone, the heat from the puddle of paraffin surrounding it gradually melting the solder seam that held the base on. Suddenly, the bottom gave, sending the cooker a good fifteen feet into the air like a firework, it's exhaust a shower of burning paraffin.

We stood in stunned silence as the top half of the stove clanged back down to the ground, a smouldering pile of twisted metal.

"Cool..." breathed Spider.


On to Chapter Twenty

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