Date: Mon, 3 Jan 2005 00:01:36 EST
From: BillS16309@aol.com
Subject: Sam & Slick

This story contains self discovery and sexual activities among minors.
If this subject doesn't interest you, close this window immediately.
This story and its sequels are copyrighted.  Do not reproduce or
distribute without express permission from the author.  Feel free to
contact me at BillS16309@aol.com with any comments.

Sam & Slick
Part One


Sammy and I had been friends for eleven years, since meeting in
Kindergarten.  Even then, he was a rough kid.  Bigger than most kids,
outgoing, with an agressive smile, sometimes hyper (nowadays, they would
call it A.D.D.) but definitely the kind of kid you wanted on your side.
I was the smallest kid in the class, more reserved than Sammy, and shy.
We complemented each other.

Although Sammy was far from stupid, I was one of the smartest kids in the
class.  By the third grade, when we began bringing schoolwork assignments
home, he and I had become close enough that I would help him.  Naturally,
Sammy wanted me to simply complete the homework for him, so he could turn
it in.  But I always took the time to explain the particulars of nouns,
verbs, long division, and the like.  I wanted him to grasp the building
blocks of language and math, true.  Looking back on it, however, I can't
help the thought that I also wanted to stretch the time we spent
together.

Sammy's family was also different than mine.  Visiting his house was
always an adventure where his brothers (three of them, all older) were
always roughhousing and getting into trouble, and his mother was always
cooking something wonderful.  His father worked second shift for General
Electric, and I seldom saw him.  One of Sammy's brothers had nicknamed me
Slick, and the name stuck.  My own mother couldn't cook anything more
complicated than Stouffer's frozen dinners, and my two sisters were much
older than me and already out of the house.

From about the third grade on, Sam and I had occasionally played "doctor".
Sam was fascinated by my penis because I wasn't circumcised.  I enjoyed
demonstrating how I could pull the skin back and forth over the head.  But
our experimentation hadn't gotten past the "look and don't touch" phase.

By the time I was in the seventh grade, my dad announced he was having
and affair and was filing for divorce.  Sam and I were now best friends.
Our differences had made us friends, initially.  My parents' divorce
brought us closer together.  During that time, I spent as much time away
from the house as possible.  Sam and I would explore a small patch of
woods with a creek that ran behind my house.  It was around this time
that our bodies were changing.  Sam was growing rapidly taller, and his
voice was cracking.  I had sprouted the first hairs above my penis.  But
I was still the shortest kid in the class.

One afternoon, as we were hiking, I pointed out how tall Sam was
getting.  There was a brief pause, and a look came over his face, as if
Sam was deciding whether to broach a subject with me.  "Yep, I'm
changing."

"I'm changing, too."

"Oh, yeah?  How?"

I looked around to see if anyone else was nearby.  The coast was clear.
"I'm getting hair down there.  Look."  I unzipped my jeans, pulled down
my white briefs (we all wore white briefs in those days), and hooked them
under my balls.  Sam looked at my penis, moved closer to me, and brushed
the back of his fingers across my sparse pubic hairs.

"I got 'em too."  Sam pulled his t-shirt up.  His didn't have washboard
abs, but his stomach was flat.  I noticed a line of hair reaching down
from his navel, like the kind I noticed on my now absent father's
stomach.  Then he unzipped his jeans, and pulled them and his briefs down
to his thighs, exposing his dick, balls, and ass.

His dick was enormous!  It hung down at a 45 degree angle and pulsed with
life.  I audibly gasped when I saw it.

"Big, huh?"

"Sam, it's the biggest one I've ever seen."

"Who's else have you seen?"

"Not many," I admitted.  "There's my dad, my older cousins, and you."

"I haven't seen my dad's, but I've seen all my brothers.  I'm bigger than
one of them.  But not as big as the oldest two.  You really saw your
dad's dick?"

"Yeah, we used to shower together after camping."

"Did you see your dad hard?"  Sam seemed fixated on the subject of my
father's penis, and I was getting irritated.  The last thing I wanted to
discuss was my father.

"No," I answered rather emphatically

There was another pause.  Sam realized he had brought out some unhappy
feelings in me, and changed the subject.  "I caught my brother playing
with his dick. He showed me something cool.  Wanna see?"

"Sure," anything to stop talking about my father and his dick.

Sam started rubbing hand up and down the shaft of his dick.  By now, it
was hard and pointing upward.  I copied his motions, as we watched each
other.

"Slick, make the skin go over the head like you used to."

As I began working my foreskin, strange new feelings began to overwhelm
me.  I was a little frightened by them.  But seeing the look on Sam's
face as he began stroking himself faster and faster washed away any fear
on my part.  He began huffing and moaning, and his face was sweaty and
red.

"Slick, watch this," he gasped.  And then, white stuff shot out of his
pee-hole, hitting the tree next to us.

Seeing Sam's orgasm (even though I didn't know the word for it), made my
dick swell to full hardness, and I felt an inner itching and
uncontrollable throbbing in my cock and balls, as a drop of clear fluid
appeared at the end.  I had never felt this before, and was unprepared
for the intensity.  It was then that I began to feel dizzy, and Sam, his
dick still wet with cum, caught me before I hit the ground.

"Slick, are you okay?"

"I'm dizzy.  I think I need to lie down."

Sam slowly lowered me to the ground, cleaned his dick and zipped himself
up.  Then, he leaned over me and carefully tucked away my penis and
zipped my jeans.  I was as weak as a newborn kitten.  Sam lay next to me,
and rubbed my chest.

Later that day, as we walked home, Sam grabbed me by the elbow and
stopped me, facing me, standing very close.

"Slick, I hate to point this out.  But you're changing in another way,"
he said, pointing at my stomach.

"I know.  I can't seem to control it."  Of course, I could control it.  I
was overeating to compensate for the emptiness I felt in my lonely
family.

Sam grabbed me by my shoulders, "Let's do sit-ups and lift weights in my
basement!"

"Okay.  But not today, I'm still too weak from what happenned."

Sam's basement "gym" was a primitive affair, with a bench and an
assortement of dumb-bells and free weights.  In the corner was an toilet,
right out in the open, and Sam and I were never shy when we had to piss
or even take a dump.  The basement was the "guys only" part of the house,
and his mother seldom ventured down there.  Occasionally, one or another
of his brothers would join us, but not often.

From seventh grade until we finished high school, Sam and I would regularly
work out in his basement after finishing our homework.  My arms and chest
developed (we always took off our shirts when we worked out, and if it was
too hot, our jeans) and my stomach shrank so much that Sam's mother was
always making treats for us, saying I was too skinny.

And so it went for several years, from elementary school, to middle
school, and finally on to high school.

Camping was our favorite pastime.  In retrospect, camping was Sam's way
to get some quiet time away from his loud family, and my way to be close
to another male.  During the summers between our sophmore, junior, and
senior years in high school, Sam and I went camping whenever we could.
There were always adventures (like hiking in the nude) and misadventures
(such as getting caught in the rain).  We could be close to each other,
physically and emotionally, without anyone else to interfere.  But we
never discussed our feelings--until the last time we went camping, the
summer we graduated from high school.

We had timed our camping trip to coincide with a meteor shower in
August.  Sam and I went to our usual spot, a old CCC campground in
southeastern Ohio that had been all but abandoned when a fancier place,
with modern amenities like toilets and showers, was built in the 1970s.
We were expecting hot weather, so we dressed light, carrying only one
change of clothes, plus a tent kit, some food, and sleeping bags.  We
arrived in mid-afternoon.  Sam parked his truck at the end of a dirt road
where the campground ended and the woods began.  We knew these trails
well, and began hiking on memory and instinct.  I always carried a
compass just in case--this was long before the advent of GPS.

We set up camp in early evening near a stream at the base of a mountain
in the Appallachian range.  While I put the tent up, Sam gathered some
wood for burning.  It was cooler than we expected, but that didn't stop
us from a quick round of skinny dipping before dinner.  After a few
minutes in the water, I put my shoes on and headed over to the woodpile
to start a fire.  I didn't bother putting any clothes on as Sam finished
his swim and headed toward me.  Grabbing a loose branch, he used it to
poke at my dick.

"Hmm.  I guess some things contract in the cold."

I wasn't embarrassed at Sam poking fun (literally) at my shrivelled
penis, as his had nearly retracted into his body.

"It'll grow when the fire is done," I replied.  "Besides, you're a bit
under par yourself, peewee."

It was awesome hanging out naked with Sam.

We wolfed down dinner as soon as we made it, sitting on a log with our
shorts under our butts so we wouldn't get splinters.  It was getting dark
and the stars came out.  By then, even the fire couldn't combat the cold
and regretfully I pulled on my sweatpants, and Sam put on his shorts.  I
grabbed t-shirts from the tent as Sam broke out the beer.

The sky was crystal clear--a perfect night for stargazing, and one of the
reasons it was cold.  Sam and I were now sitting on the ground, my right
side leaning against his left, feeling the warmth of his body. The
crickets were a noisy accompaiment to me as I pointed out the various
constellations to Sam.

"That's Isis, and over there, that's Osiris."

"Man, Slick, you sure know your astrology."

"It's astronomy.  Astrology is horoscopes."

"Man, you are such an Aries," he said, his grinning face as the fire cast
flickering shadows across his face.

We went on for a while like that, drinking while huddled for warmth,
looking at the stars, wondering if there was life out there, content in
each other's company.  We both stood and took a long piss into the fire
to calm it, our streams crashing into each other, as they had many times
before.

By this time, we were pretty buzzed, and as they say, "in vino, veritas."

Sam opened another bottle of beer.  "You got the brains, slick.  You're
gonna go far."

"Give me a break.  You're not stupid just because you get stuck in school
sometimes.  You'll do just as well as me, maybe better."

"Maybe."

Sam opened another beer.  The dying fire crackled and popped.  Sam had
that look again, like he wanted to say something but was working up the
courage to say it.  "You got something else I wish I had."

"What"

"You got that skin on your dick."

"What?" There was a pause as I began to comprehend that Sam actually
spent time thinking about my dick. "You're unhappy because you were
circumcised?  C'mon.  You have nothing to be ashamed of in the dick
department.  For one thing, yours is a lot thicker than mine.  Besides,
most guys are circumcised."

"Yeah, but it's not like I had any choice."

"Well, neither did I, although I suppose I could have it done now."  Sam
glared up at me.  "Hey, I was the one with the strange looking dick in
the locker room.  I wish I HAD been cut."

Like lightning, Sam rose up and charged for me.  I stood, frozen in
disbelief that he was about to hit me.  Then, Sam grabbed my sweatshirt,
and lifted his fist.  "Don't say that!  Be proud of what you have!"  I
stood motionless, looking him straight in the eye.  Sam slowly lowered
his fist, his lips bunched into a deep frown,  he covered his mouth with
his hand, and tears welled over as he began sobbing.

And then it happenned.

The fist that had been raised in anger opened and found its way to the
back of my neck, pulling my face to his.  His other hand let go of my
sweatshirt and moved around my waist.  I was not expecting his kiss, had
never even thought about kissing him.  But I didn't recoil.  Kissing my
best friend was the most natural thing in the world.  Why had we never
done this before?

I could taste the beer on his breath, felt his stubble rubbing against my
face.  Everything was so right.

Suddenly, Sam pushed me away.  "I'm sorry I'm so sorry Slick I didn't
mean to kiss you please don't tell anyone."  The drying tears left tracks
on his face.

"It's ok, it's ok Sam....it's ok.  Come here, it's ok man.  You're drunk,
I won't tell anyone.  Let's put out the fire and go to sleep."

It was getting cold.  I helped Sam get into the tent, lowered him onto
his open bag, and pulled his boots off.  Then I went to throw dirt on the
dying fire, finishing it off by pissing on it.  By the time I got back
into the tent, Sam was already passed out.  I began turning the events of
that night over in my mind, trying to understand what had brought forth
such fury in my friend.


To be continued...

...and yes, there will be sex in part two.