Date: Mon, 10 Mar 2008 03:44:57 -0700 (PDT)
From: Tim Stillman <novemberhourglass@yahoo.com>
Subject: Naked Boy (g/m masturbation)

		       Naked Boy, Age Almost Eleven
				    By
			       Tim Stillman

      You are alone. You are loved. You have this summer afternoon and on
into night to yourself. It is Friday. School was over three days ago.  You
are naked here at two thirty p.m. The house is nicely warm. You are naked.
One year almost ago you learned to masturbate. It is your delight. Your
penis is almost two and three quarter inches hard. It is always hard. You
stand in front of the living room mirror. The drapes over the windows are
closed. The light of afternoon shines almost greenly. It makes you feel as
though you are underwater.

      The linoleum is cool under your bare feet. You look at yourself. You
examine what little musculature you have. You start by tracing your face
with your fingers of your left hand. You hold your eyes wide, then closed,
then opened again. Your eyes are blue. Your haircut is short. Your hair is
brown. You touch your neck, center. You move your hand down to your chest.
You touch a finger to your tits, left one, and then right one. You do all
of this slowly, suggestively. Your nipples are little brown hard berries
almost invisible. You are thin. You play your hands down each of your
ribs. You hold your hand over your heart to feel it beating. Thus, you
assure yourself you are alive.

      You turn round and look over your shoulder, as best you can, to see
yourself from the back. You have a round butt, plump cheeks, your spine
curves just a little. You are tall for your age. You turn round again. Your
penis sticks straight out. It does indeed look like a little stick. You do
not touch it. You make it move a bit up and down just by willing it so.
You stretch out your groin V to the mirror, as though offering
yourself. You are pale from not being in the sun a lot. This will change as
summer goes along. You will become brown. You are now the color of pink
coral.

      Your penis wants you, begs you, to touch it. Its slit you open and
move it back and forth, as you smile at it, for it looks like a mouth
opening and closing. It stretches to your hand, like a puppy begging
attention, so wanting to be petted. You rub your hand over your smooth
groin. You take your hand away. Your penis stays hard, and arches a tiny
bit. You smile into the mirror. You have not very good-looking teeth, so
you smile little. Your face has a vague looking at somewhere else
expression to it. This has been commented on, but it is your right to have
your face, your eyes, and your mouth look as they do.

      You put your head over and kiss each shoulder as best you can. You
put your arms around your tiny waist and turn away, to look backward at the
long full-length mirror, to see yourself as though someone else's arms are
holding you. This makes you a little sad. You take your arms down, and turn
frontward again. Your navel is an innie. Once you put a finger into it and
pushed in, which made your body feel like painful electricity was shooting
through it, not like the nice exciting electricity you get when you make
your tits hard.

      You stand now with your penis put between your legs and you wonder if
this is how girls look. You pose with your head thrown back a bit and
smiling as seductively as you know how from the movies. You stand this way
for a moment, right hip at an angle, and then you stand normally
again. Your hard penis is hurting now, so you take it from between your
legs. It pops up like in a pop up book and you laugh because that is
funny. Wouldn't that make for a fun pop-up book in the school library?

      You will be eleven on September 2, which is a long way away, and the
very opening day of school, which you do not want to think about, but you
do wonder if you will get a Schwinn bike this time? Or maybe at Christmas?
Your hands are on your penis. It has two little brown bands round the
circumference of the shaft. It loves you. You begin to stroke it, and
shiver from stroking it. Your balls get tight. You wonder what your boy
hole looks like, but you have been scared to look, if you could figure out
how. You bend back as far as you can and feel so horny, though you don't
know what that word means yet. You just know that you feel good. That you
feel complete within yourself. That you need no friends, no family. You
have your body. And your penis.

      You lean back too far and you fall, as immediately you start to laugh
and the giggles come more. Then you lie on the cool green linoleum, on your
side, and you look at your skinny legs and your flat tummy and start to
masturbate. You tremble with anticipation. You rub with the forefinger and
the thumb of your left hand, and it feels so exciting and nice. Your penis
is more alive than you. You look at yourself naked and this turns you on
more, as you cup your tiny balls and hold them, while with the other hand
you continue to masturbate till the feeling starts and you are floating, as
your whole body seems to be concentrated in that penis that is almost
gloating, it is so proud of itself. You rub your hand down your chest and
legs.

      Then you scissor your left leg upward for that makes it feel better.
It is starting to happen, as you pull in and out your entire body which is
now shaking, squirming like a fish caught on a hook. You almost convulse,
as you hunch over far, and hold your penis as it feels so good, as it
explodes with little rushing starlight going fast, and seeming soft arrows
coming out and coming back over and over again. The arrows seem to have
feathers on their sides and make your penis feel like it is being tickled
inside. Your penis shakes as does the rest of you, as you rub faster and
faster as your hard on dry cums and you close your eyes, lost in the
palatial other worldly beauty of your body as you hold your penis tightly
with one hand and almost milk it like squeezing an orange.

      Your eyes have little light shows behind their closed lids now, and
your penis is like gasping for air and taking you over, making you feel
empty at the middle of you and like your entire body is rushing over the
morning of tomorrow when you will be somebody and that somebody will not be
you. You lie exhausted. You are perspiring. In a few minutes you will do
this again. You lean up your head and pretend you are kissing someone's
lips. You feel safe and warm. You cry.

      You are loved.