Date: Wed, 1 Jun 2011 12:34:15 -0700 (PDT)
From: erik ritler <erikritler@yahoo.com>
Subject: High School Hijinks: The Wonky Webcam

Author's Note

This short story was a one-off I started when stuck in jury duty all day.
Don't worry - I wasn't writing erotic fiction while ignoring the plight of
some falsely accused individual, I was stuck in the jury pool waiting room.

Although this tale is labeled as chapter one, I really can't say whether it
continues or not. I have several other projects, and this was more of an
exercise than anything. Still, you never know. If you enjoy my writing, I
have a rather longer story entitled Space Ship Boys, which you can find in
the scifi section, or at my Yahoo group site at:
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/spaceshipboys/

I always appreciate feedback, and can be reached at erikritler@yahoo.com.


High School Hijinks

Chapter 1 - The Wonky Webcam


"Dude, that's so gross!" Jared stared in horror at his computer monitor,
which was currently displaying a live webcam feed from his best friend,
Wesley. Normally Wesley wasn't what you would call "gross," but at the
moment he was squeezing a mostly-chewed glob of peanut butter sandwich
through his teeth. Jared couldn't help but giggle.

"Okay, now that's done," Wesley said, his voice thick with peanut
butter. He licked his lips and swallowed the glob of chewed-up sandwich
before smiling widely at a disgusted Jared.

Jared and Wesley had been best friends since fifth grade, and they were
inseparable. Like most teenage best friends, they had come to spend endless
hours on the phone together. Jared's parents had noticed this, as parents
will, and asked their son why he needed to be in constant communication
with Wesley, particularly when the two already spent every school day and
most afternoons together. Jared had just shrugged and replied "Dunno," a
non-committal response often employed by teenagers, and one that was good
for a variety of questions, such as "Who ate all the chips?" or "How'd that
window get cracked?" or "Why is there so much underwear in the wash?"

Whether or not Jared's parents had accepted "dunno" as a proper answer,
they had decided to support their son's social needs. Following his middle
school graduation party, Jared had returned home to find a brand new Mac on
the desk in his room - a reward for his straight-A eighth grade year. The
computer had come with both a webcam and a list of rules about the usage of
said camera, but they were rather tolerable restrictions. Jared's parents
allowed almost unlimited chat with Wesley, who'd received a computer for
Christmas the year before. The boys had taken to the webcams immediately,
and over the summer become accustomed to hanging out online.

"Got homework tonight?" Jared asked.

Wesley groaned. "Dude...don't remind me. Ugh! Who knew high school would be
so much work?"

Jared rolled his eyes. Wesley was something of a slacker, but he was right
- high school was a lot more work than eighth grade. The boys had been
warned about this, of course - on the first day, in fact, when a rather fat
and red-faced man in a cheap looking gray suit had lumbered up onto the
stage of the school's auditorium. "Welcome to Green Mills," he'd said,
before introducing himself as Vice Principal Tatum. He'd then gone on to
talk for the better part of an hour about Green Mills and what life would
be like there, including a patronizing speech about the higher expectations
placed on students now that they were in high school.

"I feel totally buried," Wesley complained. "How about you?" he asked.

Jared looked at his desk, where his notebook sat open, pages scattered
about. "Nah," he replied, "I just have that chapter to read, and I can do
that at lunch."

"That chapter" referred to the boys' English assignment, the next
oh-so-thrilling installment of a horrid novel called Giants in the
Earth. It was about 19th century Norweigan immigrants to South Dakota, and
it was about as fun-filled and action-packed as a novel about 19th century
Swedish immigrants to South Dakota sounded.

"Oh shit, I have to do that too!" Wesley groaned, clapping his hand to his
forehead dramatically.  Jared laughed; he knew Wesley was at least five
chapters behind in the reading. "And I have math problems to do!"

Jared huffed. "Well, whose fault is that?" he asked, trying to sound a
little rude about it.

If there was ire in his tone, it was for good reason. The boys had never
faced a more divisive issue than their selection of math teachers. Jared
had always known he wanted to take honors math throughout high school - for
two reasons. First, honors trigonometry and honors calculus, junior and
senior-level classes, allowed you to take the AP exam at the end of the
term, and a passing grade on the AP exam gave you college credit. Jared
could rack up some general education requirements and save a bazillion
dollars over taking these classes at university. But perhaps only slightly
less importantly, Jared was in love with Mrs. Harris, the honors math
teacher at Green Mills.

In this case, when we say that Jared was "in love" with Mrs. Harris, we
don't mean "literally in love," nor do we mean "even remotely sexually
attracted to" - Mrs. Harris was well into her fifties and not overly
good-looking, and this isn't one of those "boy meets hot older teacher"
sort of stories, which you would appreciate if you were to see Mrs. Harris
in person. The manner in which Jared was in love with his teacher was that
she was batty and brilliant, and she utilized an odd and sometimes
off-putting sense of humor in her lectures. Jared had discovered this when
his eighth grade class had visited Green Mills at the end of the previous
school year to tour the campus and learn about the available courses. Jared
had left knowing he wanted to be in Mrs.  Harris's class.

This was not a sentiment shared by Wesley. In the weeks leading up to
registration, Jared had encouraged Wesley to take honors geometry with
him. Wesley had refused, instead opting for regular geometry with
Mr. Cieslikowski, largely because it was a well-known fact that Mr.
Cieslikowski was far more liberal with grades than Mrs. Harris, who was
both a tough grader and partial to pop quizzes. Jared had pointed out
another well-known fact - Mr. Cieslikowski was known to give out far more
homework - homework in the form of daily take-home problems. But unlike
Mrs. Harris's pop quizzes, Mr. Cieslikowski's daily problems were not
graded based on whether or not you got the answers correct. Students earned
their A's, B's and C's based on how many daily problems they completed, and
class time was spent going over the previous night's problems and
discussing the correct solutions; it would also be a selection of these
problems that showed up on tests. Mrs. Harris employed no such "problem
recycling," and her tests were known to "really fuck you over," as her
students usually said. The easier class ultimately proved irresistible to
Wesley.

The boys had spent the better part of the summer arguing over this
issue. In addition to putting them in separate math classes, selecting
Mr. Cieslikowski meant Wesley would be taking math second period, not
fourth like Jared. This had something of a domino effect on their
schedules, throwing them into separate history and biology classes also, so
that they only shared four of their seven courses together.

A month into the semester, Jared still couldn't resist the occasional
mean-spirited jab about Wesley's scheduling choices.

"Whatever, dude," Wesley replied in a slightly terse tone. To be honest, he
was tired of Jared's opinion about math class, Mrs. Harris and daily
problems, and in fact he was moderately tired of how Jared could breeze
through his homework, earning an endless string of A's without really
trying.

Even best friends fight sometimes, and sad to say, this is exactly what was
about to happen - a massive best-friend bicker. At least, it would have
happened had Jared's mother not called up the stairs at that exact moment
announcing dinner.

Jared's eyes lit up. "Oh, dinner's ready!" he exclaimed. "It's mac and
cheese tonight." This made both boys giggle - Jared was known as something
of a mac and cheese monster. Their moods instantly lightened while Jared
stated how much pasta he planned to consume, which was quite a lot. The
argument over math class was dropped and forgotten, at least for now.

"Go eat," Wesley laughed. He reached up and flicked off his computer; Jared
did the same before bouncing down the stairs toward culinary nirvana.

If macaroni and cheese doesn't seem like something to get excited about,
then perhaps you're envisioning the gloppy tasteless mess that comes from a
box, which like most things from a box isn't really the thing it's supposed
to be, but instead an ersatz version of that thing. In this case, as was
customary in Jared's house, dinner didn't come from a box. What was served
in this case was a handcrafted fusilli baked in a roux of milk, cheddar and
Gruyere and topped with buttery breadcrumbs.

Jared gobbled down two servings of the dish, along with his steamed
broccoli, and then he helped himself to a third portion. His mother smiled
and shook her head, happy her son enjoyed her cooking but slightly confused
about how he could eat so much of it in one sitting.

Following dinner, Jared and his parents played Scrabble, a preferred
Wednesday night activity in the house. Jared found himself even more
appreciative of his mother's mac and cheese, in this case not only because
it was delicious, but because thinking about the ersatz version you buy in
a blue box made him realize that he in fact had the tiles necessary to
spell "ersatz."  Making rather a show of his next move, Jared first placed
his S tile at the end of one of his father's words, turning "follower" into
"followers" and earning a respectable 15 points.

"Good move," Jared's dad said thoughtfully.

"Not done," Jared replied, pulling additional tiles off his rack. Jared's
dad proffered a slight smile; it was one of pride - he'd taught his son
that an S in Scrabble should almost always be used to form two words,
maximizing its point value. Jared laid down the other five letters, his
eyes glinting slightly as he placed the R on a triple word score tile. When
he was done placing his tiles he paused, calculating his score in his
head. The Z fell upon a double letter tile, so his addition was made a
little more complicated, but nowhere near as complicated as one of Mrs.
Harris's tests, so he had no problem doing the math.

"90 points," Jared said in his most modest-sounding voice, even though the
play wasn't really something to be modest about.

Jared's mother whistled and began noting the score on her sheet. "Well
that's a killer play," Jared's dad said, looking the board over. "I think
you may have sewn up the game." In the end, this proved true - Jared won,
although not by a landslide. His mother "bingoed," using all her tiles in
one play, spelling "congress," and his dad had a rather good plays with the
Q and later the J. In the end, however, "ersatz" was the best play of the
game and earned Jared the Wednesday night trophy, which in this case was
figurative.

Following Scrabble, Jared happily went about his evening chore, which was
to unload the dishwasher. He hastily put away the hot dishes before saying
goodnight to his parents, who'd settled in to watch a documentary about
jaguars living in captivity on a preserve in Alaska.

"You finished your homework?" his mother asked.

"Uh, yeah," Jared replied. And then he remembered his reading. "Well, I
have a chapter of Giants in the Earth to read, but I was going to do that
tomorrow during study hall."

"I hated that book," Jared's father groaned. Jared smiled at the way his
father agreed with his assessment of the novel. "Those Norweigan pioneers
are just so boring. Anyway, if you don't have any homework and you're done
with your chores you can go upstairs."

Jared flashed a huge grin. Being let loose to go upstairs meant that he'd
been given permission to play video games. High school and his computer had
come with many rules, as we've said, but some were better than
others. Jared's bedtime had been moved to ten, and he was allowed an hour
and a half of video game time on nights when he finished his homework and
chores early, so long as he kept the continuous string of A's coming, which
he had.

"Thanks dad!" he spouted gleefully before bounding upstairs two steps at a
time.

Considering the forum this story is posted in, you may be wondering when
it's going to get to the "good parts," and by "good parts" you probably
aren't referring to heart-warming scenes of a family playing board games,
nor do you probably mean a lengthy description of Jared's online avatar
killing parasitic aliens. If I'm incorrect, and if this is what you mean by
"good parts," then sadly you will be disappointed. If this were the story
of Jared's Tuesday night, or last Wednesday, or three Fridays ago, that is
what you would get - a long, rousing description of Jared's MMO character
"Xirrian" slaying all manner of parasitic aliens. But if this is not what
you mean by "good parts," and in fact you mean what I think you mean, then
you're in luck, because this particular night turned out to be nothing like
Tuesday, or last Wednesday, or any of the Fridays Jared had ever
experienced.

The teen plopped down at his desk and flicked on his computer monitor,
eager to launch his game and get to work attacking parasitic aliens. But
before he could do this, something very odd caught his attention.

When Jared's monitor flickered on, it did not display his usual desktop,
which was a stunning photo of the Earth from space. Jared was instead
surprised to see that his chat program was still running - and even more
surprising, the connection with Wesley's webcam still seemed to be
active. Jared's screen was diplaying the image of his friend sitting in his
room reading.

"Yo, doofus," Jared said, smiling. He expected his disembodied voice to
startle his friend, but it didn't. "Hey, Wesley! Earth to Wesley," he said
louder. Still there was no reaction.

Jared reached over and typed the word "Yo" into the chat window, sending it
along to his friend.  When Wesley didn't respond to a typed message either,
Jared tried "buzzing" Wesley, which in reference to the chat program means
he sent a command that made Wesley's chat window shake and the computer to
emit a horrible screeching sound. It had either been designed to get the
attention of distracted users or to annoy them; regardless, it usually
succeeded in both.

But in this case Wesley didn't respond, and Jared figured why. When Wesley
had flicked off his computer, he'd shut off the monitor and speakers, but
left the desktop active. So although the chat was still active, he could
neither see nor hear Jared.

"Dork," Jared laughed under his breath.

The teen paused and looked at his friend, who was just sitting there
reading. Occasionally Wesley would flip a page in his textbook, or he'd
swivel around in his chair. Under normal circumstances this wouldn't retain
Jared's attention for long, both because Jared was a bit A.D.D. and because
Wesley wasn't all that interesting. But in this case, Jared's attention was
retained, and he was finding Wesley substantially more interesting than
usual, not because his friend was doing homework in a bored manner, but
because he was doing it wearing only boxer shorts.

It should be noted that seeing Wesley in boxer shorts was not unusual - the
boys had, after all, been best friends since the fifth grade. They'd
changed in front of one another, and had sleepovers, and they'd had gym
together all through middle school, which had provided endless
opportunities to glance at a buddy and check on his physical development.

What grabbed Jared's attention now wasn't seeing his friend in his
underwear, but rather the overall fact that Wesley was studying in just his
underwear. He was sitting in his room reading, but wearing only
boxers. Hanging out in just your underwear struck a chord with Jared.

If it seems odd that the teen would find this interesting or unusual, it
must be explained that Jared was, generally, a very proper boy, and he
lived in a very proper household. This is not to say it was unbearably
proper - there were no recriminations if one did not wear the right smoking
jacket with the correct slippers, but in Jared's house you always wore
socks and shoes at the table, you always wore pajamas to bed, and rarely,
if ever, did you wander the house in your underwear.

Jared knew that Wesley's family was a bit more casual, and that things like
appropriate dress were rarely discussed. Where Jared's home was rather
structured and orderly, Wesley's always seemed a bit chaotic. In fact, the
three brothers in Wesley's house were lucky to get dinner each night before
nine, and on more than one occasion "dinner" had turned out to be "pop
tarts and a side salad."

It must be mentioned that Jared was not a snob - he didn't look down at
Wesley or his family, nor did he employ any snootiness regarding the
wearing of socks and shoes at the table or things like this. There was
simply a way things were done in Jared's house, and a way they were done in
Wesley's; as he got older Jared was noting more and more how the two
differed.

Tonight, staring at the image of his nearly naked friend on the computer
screen, he considered some of these differences. He had, in fact, never,
ever done homework in his underwear, and for some reason the thought of
doing so made him flush. He'd never been prohibited from doing homework
this way, but the thought had honestly never occurred to him.

If you are older, but not so old as to have developed dementia wiping out
all memories of your youth, then perhaps you recall what it was like to be
a young teenager, and how thinking about nudity and undress can create a
certain excitement within young bodies - often in the form of a tingly,
nervous sensation that seems to buzz just below the surface of the skin. If
you are a young teen yourself, then perhaps you are feeling this excitement
right now, even though you should be admonished for reading stories such as
these on sites such as this. Readers falling into this category should
immediately close their browser and wander off to read the works of
Stephanie Meyers, both because they are tamer and because you need to be
punished for reading dirty stories at an inappropriate age. So shoo,
underage readers, off to the library to retrieve Ms. Meyer's wretched
books. This story is about to become inappropriate for your young
eyes...and all your other parts too.

Those still with us may be interested to know that this is the exact
excitement Jared was feeling now, watching his boxer-clad friend read his
homework in a bored manner. Actually, the teen was feeling excitement on
several levels. While it's true that it was thrilling to think about doing
one's homework nearly naked, Jared was also feeling a considerable rush
from spying on his friend, and those of us who have spied know there is no
rush quite like the rush a spy gets from spying. Jared was learning about
this rush first-hand, as he stared at Wesley. He was actually pretty pale,
Jared reflected, staring at his friend's white, smooth tummy.

The other boy swiveled in his seat and Jared jumped, sure that Wesley had
somehow figured out he was being watched. But of course, Wesley could
neither see nor hear his friend, and he just went back to reading his
history lesson.

In what later proved to be a pivotal moment in Jared's young life, the teen
glanced nervously between his computer screen and the door to his room. He
was considering something - something that was making him a little nervous,
a fact belied by his heart thumping rapidly in his chest. He was
considering whether or not he should strip down to his boxers too. What
would that be like, sitting around your room in just your undies? Maybe he
should try it, he thought.

"Nah," he muttered to himself. Sitting around your room at eight o'clock in
your underwear would be...ridiculous. Still, he had to admire the relaxed
manner in which Wesley was doing just that.

"Fuck it," he said after thinking things through a second time. The tingly
sensation growing a little more intense, Jared jumped up out of his seat
and crossed his bedroom to lock the door.  This was another privilege he'd
been granted upon entering high school - the ability to lock his door when
he wanted to.

Jared returned to his computer, noticing that Wesley had spun around in his
seat so that all he could see was the back of the chair and his friend's
chestnut-colored hair. He was disappointed at first, but then Wesley
swiveled back into view, pushing his chair a little further away from the
desk as he did so. This offered Jared an even better view - he could now
see everything from Wesley's knees to the top of his head, everything that
wasn't obstructed by the large textbook his friend was reading.

Peering at the way Wesley seemed at ease with his dress, Jared took a deep
breath and committed to his plan - he was going to strip to his underwear
and play video games wearing only boxers!

Again, if this seems like a rather tame plan to you, there are two things
that should be pointed out. First, we should not criticize Jared. He's
doing his best to serve as the central character in this story. Secondly,
there are times in life when something that seems tame on the surface can
turn out to be really quite exciting, and this was about to prove to be the
case.

Whether his plan was too tame or not, Jared slowly and cautiously set it
into motion by moving to unbutton the front of the short-sleeve blue oxford
he was rather fond of. For those wondering why he was wearing an oxford,
we've already established that Jared was a little preppy and proper. It was
actually neither of these that led the boy to favor the shirt, however - it
just happened to be a really comfy, super-soft shirt that he loved.

Very gingerly, he undid the top two buttons. And then he laughed out loud,
a sharp little barking laugh in response to the way he was suddenly nervous
to unbutton his own shirt in the privacy of his locked room. Feeling a bit
dorky, he quickly undid all of the buttons, enjoying the way the cool air
of the room felt against the newly exposed skin of his chest and tummy.

He marveled at how naughty it felt to be disrobing like this, at how
arousing it was. And it was - Jared may have been proper, but he'd been a
teenager for a while, and he was no stranger to boners or playing with
himself. For some reason, watching Wesley study in boxers and plotting to
undress too had given him one. The boy shrugged.

He was about to move on to "phase two" of his plan - which in this case
meant removing his shirt entirely - when something on screen caught his
eye. Jared looked up to see that Wesley wasn't reading anymore. Instead,
he'd dropped his book onto his left leg, looking rather bored and fed up
with homework. Jared chuckled, wondering if Wesley might just toss the book
out his bedroom window - his friend really, really hated schoolwork.

Jared did not, however, chuckle when what happened next happened, and what
happened was that Wesley dropped his right hand into his lap. Jared's
stared at his screen a little more intently; the way Wesley was holding his
book obstructed the other boy's lap, but if Jared's spatial reasoning was
accurate - and it usually was - Wesley's hand was now sitting right
there. You know...that right there, the right there where your hand was
never supposed to wander, especially in mixed company at dinner parties.

Jared felt a slight spasm move throughout his entire young body. Was
Wesley...was he touching himself?

The teen didn't have to wait long for an answer. Casually, Wesley tossed
his book to the floor, where it joined the general clutter usually found in
his room. Jared now had an unobstructed view of his friend's lanky body. He
stared at his small red nipples, and then at the way his friend's tummy
bent owing to the way he was slouched in his seat. But most of all, Jared
stared at the way that Wesley's hands had wandered into his lap, resting on
either side of the fly to his shorts.

On screen, Wesley sat up suddenly, looking around nervously. It made Jared
jump too, and again the boy thought his friend had realized he was watching
him, although it was certain that Wesley's monitor and speakers were
off. Just in case, though, Jared reached over and spun his webcam so that
it was facing the wall. If Wesley did turn on his system, he wouldn't be
greeted by the image of Jared spying on him, but rather a blank white
square.

Jared nestled back into his seat and looked on. He knew he should probably
turn his computer off and forget what he'd seen, but he was a curious
teenage boy.

To be honest, Jared hadn't given much thought to Wesley sexually. Jared
masturbated, and he figured most of his friends did too, but until this
moment this concept hadn't been more than a vague notion to the teen. Now,
watching his best bud rub the front of his shorts, the question of what his
friends got up to when they were alone seemed far more pertinent and
interesting.

Jared, as we've said, was a little A.D.D., and as such his mind was about
to wander. This was violently halted, however, when on screen Wesley did
what he did next. In one smooth motion the other boy pushed down on the
front of his boxers, freeing a long, thick, and very erect penis.

"Holy shit!" Jared exclaimed, giggling nervously. Not even in a centillion
years, Jared considered, did he think he'd be seeing Wesley's bone
tonight. A centillion, I probably don't need to point out, is a number of
some controversy. In America, it is ten to the three hundred third power,
but in Europe the name is used to denote ten to the six hundredth
power. Feel free to employ either usage, because either is appropriate in
describing the odds Jared felt applied to randomly stumbling into a
situation where he could freely check out his friend's erection.

And then, Jared's hopes and dreams were dashed, not by US and European math
rules, but because Wesley swiveled his chair so that once again all that
was visible was the back of his friend's head, which under the current
circumstances was about the least interesting part of him.

"Oh come on," Jared moaned, reaching over to his mouse and moving the
cursor around his screen, as though this would have an effect on his
friend's position. Jared unconsciously reached into his lap and began
feeling his own erection through his pants, something that often happens to
naughty voyeurs and readers of erotic stories. Jared was not surprised to
discover that he was rock hard, nor was he surprised at how good it felt to
touch himself. But he was still disappointed that his friend had moved out
of view.

Fortunately for Jared, Wesley was not accustomed to jerking off while his
chair was facing away from his desk. He was, in fact, accustomed to jerking
off while facing his monitor, which was usually displaying something dirty
and arousing. Out of habit, Wesley swung his seat back into a position that
offered Jared the perfect view of his friend's body.

Jared took full advantage of this, enlarging the webcam window on his
desktop so that he could make out as much of Wesley's activities as
possible. The other boy pushed his boxers down further, so that Jared could
now see his friend's entire dick and balls. Jared smiled, noting that
although Wesley had a rather large one - both long and thick - it looked
slightly smaller than Jared's own genitals. This was important to the boy
because he enjoyed besting Wesley at everything, which included grades,
pizza-eating contests and, now, penis size.

Still, Wesley had nothing to be ashamed about, particularly at his
age. Jared watched, enrapt, as his buddy started stroking his shaft. He
noticed that Wesley's cock was long enough that it almost reached all the
way to his navel, a fact made more obvious each time his friend completed
an upstroke on his erection.

Jared's body throbbed, and he couldn't take it anymore. Any thoughts of
what was and was not proper flew from his mind like napkins from an outdoor
caf‚ table on a windy day. The teen hastily unbuckled his belt and then
unbuttoned his pants, smiling as he did so. Everything was suddenly
intensely erotic - the way his open shirt brushed his nipples as he moved
around in his chair, or the feeling of his brown puka shell necklace
against the tan skin of his neck.

The boy unzipped his shorts with fumbling fingers, and then he pulled the
fly open as wide as it would go. Jared's plaid boxers were tenting about as
much as they could, indicating how boned he was within them. Wasting no
time at all, Jared hauled his stiff dick out through the fly in his
boxers. Oh to be young, free of dementia, aroused and exposed!

Stroking himself and moaning lightly, Jared looked back at his monitor and
took note of the similarities and differences between his dick and
Wesley's. Both were long and straight, and both pointed up toward the boys'
chests. Both were long enough so that pressing the shafts against their
bodies brought pink tips to rest right below teen navels, and both were
thick enough to provide a decent handhold. Jared noticed that both boys had
ample pubic hair.

One thing that differed was the color of the skin on the shaft. Jared's
shaft was the same color as the rest of his body - a mellow tan that was
consistent all over his body, no matter which parts had been exposed to the
sun. Wesley, however, had a shaft that was slightly darker than any of the
other skin on his body, darker than his pale tummy and darker than his
slightly tanned forearms. Jared found this interesting.

He also found the difference in their balls fascinating. Where Jared's
scrotum was rather full looking and pressed up against his young body
tighter, Wesley's nuts hung lower, and his sack was more slack looking, as
though there was less of whatever fluid balls floated around in there.  As
Wesley stroked, his balls bounced around, looking somehow happy and
carefree. Jared's balls bounced, as most boys' balls bounce when they jack
off, but they didn't move around nearly as much as Wesley's, which flopped
here and there with wild abandon.

And they were flopping here and there with wild abandon. Wesley had gone
from stroking to all- out masturbating, moving his fist up and down the
shaft of his long cock in the fast and furious manner known to most teenage
boys.

Jared writhed in his chair, watching his friend flog himself. Jared had
seen some porn before, but he'd never seen anyone doing anything sexual
live, and he'd certainly never seen someone he knew doing something like
this. Jared hastily pushed his shirt off his shoulders, allowing it to slip
off his young body.

Tearing his eyes from his screen, the boy contemplated his exposed
torso. Jared enjoyed his body, and he enjoyed making it better and
stronger. He liked how his daily sit-up routine was coming along, so that
when he leaned forward in his chair now his abs contracted into the faint
beginning of a six-pack. And, of course, he loved his dick, which a couple
of years ago hadn't been nearly as much fun as it was now. He loved how it
got bigger when he was aroused, and how satisfying it was to touch it,
stroke it, and play with it.

Having a dick was great, Jared thought as he touched himself, using the
long, deliberate strokes he preferred. It felt like electricity was
shooting through his young body each time he ran his fingers over his hard,
pink tip. "Mmmm," he moaned, enjoying the way his own voice sounded when it
was soaked in hormones and lust.

On screen, Wesley continued incorporating a totally different technique -
frantic one-handed pumping. Jared watched as the other boy's balls flew up
and down in time with his fist, an almost hypnotic display. Wesley let out
a long sigh, which Jared imagined he could hear.

Except...wait...he could hear it. Wesley's webcam was still broadcasting,
and that meant sound too, although Jared hadn't noticed until now. He
reached over and slowly turned up the volume on his speakers. Gradually,
the light noises Wesley was making became clear and distinguishable.

"Wow," Jared sighed, listening to the slapping sounds Wesley's cock made as
it was stroked and fondled. He could also hear that his friend's breathing
was elevated, and it was these light gasps that, perhaps more than
anything, pushed Jared into total and complete boy heat.

For the spying teen, it felt like he was experiencing a moment frozen in
time. On screen Wesley's junk bounced around as the other boy sighed and
panted as he completed the number one pastime of teenage boys. Jared
stroked away too, smiling as his own penis became wet with pleasure. He
loved the way his fingers felt on the hard, hot shaft, and he loved the
waves of pleasure that contact with his tip caused. He stroked a little
faster and harder, watching his friend do the same on screen.

It would be nice to be able to say that this display of young lust went on
for hours. This is, however, not how the bodies of young male teens work,
and like volcanoes or shaken soda cans, they're going to go off, usually
rather quickly.

This is, needless to say, what happened to Wesley, very shortly before it
also happened to Jared.

A few more seconds of frantic pumping and Wesley's demeanor changed in a
way that caused Jared to figure the end was near. The other boy's lips
curled into a very slight smile, an involuntary show of glee at what was
about to happen, and his breathing became a little more rapid.

"Uh...uh-huh...uh-huh!" Wesley gasped lightly, sounding almost as though he
were agreeing with something being whispered in his ear. The boy slid a
little further down into his seat, and Jared watched as a shiver moved
through his friend's frame. And then Wesley's entire body seemed to relax -
well, all of it except his dick, which convulsed and throbbed as he stroked
away.

"Ahhhh...." Wesley sighed, enjoying the onset of his orgasm. He chirped and
allowed his eyes to roll up into his head. He didn't shoot much, which
caused Jared to at first wonder whether his friend had come at all. But
then he noticed a small white blob on Wesley's tummy, and how his friend's
stroking was becoming squishier sounding, something that sent another wave
of pleasure through Jared's body and let the spying boy know that, indeed,
his friend had just sprayed.

"Wow," Jared whispered as Wesley began running his fingers all over the
head of his cock, Jared's big blue eyes as wide as they could go without
hurting. His friend had just orgasmed, and Jared had watched while jerking
off!

And then he realized just how much in need Wesley's display had left his
body. Frenzied with lust, the boy pushed his shorts and boxers to the
floor, not even thinking twice about getting naked in his room. On screen
Wesley was pulling his boxers up over his still-turgid cock; Jared watched
this as he began stroking himself harder and faster.

It didn't take long, but it sure felt good.

Jared squirmed as he beat off, almost falling over backwards in his
chair. He regained his balance, and then felt the familiar tingle from down
behind his balls. He smiled, and flexed his young tummy, and then took a
deep breath.

"Ohhhh...ohhhhh," the boy moaned as his orgasm approached. And then it was
there. "Ah! Ah!"  he gasped sharply. A long, white jet of boy juice erupted
from his tip, landing in a streak that extended from his left nipple to his
puka shell necklace. He groaned and grunted through three more shots, more
than a little proud about how much cum he made and how far it went when he
shot.

"Oh...wow...uh...uh...yeah," he groaned as his orgasm continued, ultimately
subsiding into a warm glow of lust.

Jared swirled a finger through the mess he'd proudly made on his chest. On
his display, Wesley's room was now empty, the other boy presumably away
cleaning up. Jared followed suit, hopping up and dashing to his bathroom
for some tissue. When he returned to his computer he considered remaining
naked for the rest of the night, but this notion only lasted about ten
seconds before the teen stood and put his school clothes back on, his sense
of what was proper and what was not returning to the forefront of his
mind. And then he realized he was hungry.

"You've got to be kidding me," Jared's mom said when she noticed her son in
the kitchen microwaving some leftover mac and cheese.

"What? I'm hungry," Jared replied defensively.

"How are the parasitic aliens?" his dad asked.

Jared shrugged. "Dunno. I was...er...online with Wesley - helping him with
homework."

It would be nice to say that Jared's parents made some reply that was
seething with innuendo and therefore very humorous, probably something to
do with giving someone a hand or something, but that would be a
falsehood. Instead they just smiled and lauded their son for helping a
friend during his valuable video game time.

The boy said goodnight a second time and returned upstairs to his
room. This time, he found the chat window to be totally black, indicating
that Wesley had shut his system down. Jared smiled a crooked little smile,
thinking about what he'd seen. And then he felt a familiar twitching in his
pants, and before you knew it, his shirt was unbuttoned and his shorts
pooled at his feet.  Jared would cum three more times before drifting off
into a dozing, sated sleep.

At least, he was sated until morning came, when he remembered what had
happened the evening before and instantly found himself with a raging hard
on.

Such is the way of teenage boys.