Date: Sat, 27 Jun 2009 01:37:25 +1000
From: Bradley Danaher <bradmikedan@hotmail.com>
Subject: Catching Matt

  This one happened to me at camp back in year seven. At our school
everyone has to go away for a week in year seven to some cabins in the
forest up near the mountains, to learn survival skills and stuff about the
environment, but mostly just to muck around with your friends. I wasn't
a bad kid in year seven. I'd had just come to the school and was liked by
enough people. The whole camp thing scared me just a little bit though,
but knowing I was with my friends quickly got rid of that fear.

   It'd been a tough day for me, the second day of camp and the activities
were really starting to get into full swing. We'd been hiking in the forests
around the cabins for most of the day, and then tried out the ropes
course. Tomorrow, we were setting out on a three-day expedition that
would take us around the entire property owned by the school on foot, as
well as camping in a different location each night under the stars.
Strangely, I couldn't wait. As after every tough day at camp, we needed
showers. There were only three showers in the block next to the boy's
cabins. Well, there were four, but the last one wasn't working. The cabins
weren't anything special, just wooden structures that blended into the
leafy hillside surrounded by forest, lifted up on stilts off the undergrowth.
The exposed grain of the wood was left to silver, and the whole place gave
off an ambience of the peace that came with time and solitude.

  With just three showers and a group of about fourteen boys needing to
use them, there were bound to be some problems. No matter, we just
took turns. For a while, the tiny shower block became packed with
steam, boys, dampness and the endless shuffling of bare feet as bodies
tried to make it past others, to take that much-needed shower and get
the whole ordeal over with. I decided to wait. Pushing and shoving was
not for me. I sat in the cabin that I shared with three of my friends, with
a book and read and waited until all my roommates were back. It was
now just fifteen minutes until lights out, but it didn't worry me. I
wouldn't take longer than that to finish taking my shower.

  Upon entering the room, the steam hit me immediately; a wall of thick,
humid air. I held on to my clothes and towel as my feet squelched on the
wet floor. There were sinks and toilet cubicles to the left, and a urinal
further on. To the right was the alcove where there was a length of
bench, some hooks above it, and four showers facing them. A window
was open to help the steam clear, and a cool breeze swept in and chilled
my bare arms and legs. I noticed one of the shower curtains already
drawn. What's more there was another squelching sound, other than my
thongs, and a quick, sharp breathing, accompanied by short, deep
moans. I had a pretty good idea of what was going on. After all, I was
thirteen, and I figured that whoever was in there shared a common
interest with me, and many other boys in our year level, who were all just
coming into that age.

  The question was: who was it? I ran through every boy in the class. It
couldn't be any of my roommates, they'd all returned from their showers
already. Pity, I thought, it would have been funny if it had been Dan in
there. I could've blackmailed him, or at least given him shit over it. I
wasn't all too sure why I'd been so disappointed that it wasn't him. What
made him different from any of the other boys? I guess he was a pretty
striking boy. He was taller than most others, which immediately got him
noticed, but he wasn't a big tank or a giant, or lanky in any way, just
taller. It made him seem older, and that made him stand out from the
other boys and girls in our year. But, anyway, it wasn't Dan in there, so
who was it?

  I approached the showers, and I could hear the squelching sounds get
louder, and the soft moans began to echo off the tiled and wooden surfaces.
It never even occurred to me that privacy, humiliation, shame or any of
those things should have interfered in this situation. All that mattered
was that I found out who it was in there. I was also secretly glad that I
had finally found someone who shared my hobby. Of course, I knew everyone
did it; I just never got to see how, or where. I had so many questions.
That's what this was about: discovery. And so, without hesitation, but with
a hand shaking from nerves blended with adrenaline, and with a stiff rod in
my shorts, I stepped up on the bench and leaned over the three-quarter wall
of the shower stall. My toes dug into the grooves in the wooden slats for
support, while I tried to keep my head as low as possible, only raised
enough that I could just see.

  It was Matt. Green eyes, fair skin, blonde hair left slightly long, he was
the stereotypical thirteen-year-old boy. Except maybe if you saw what he
was doing now. Facing the left wall, those green eyes trained down, that
fair skin dripping with water from a shower that had been turned off, and
the blonde hair matted and soaked, he was pumping eagerly at his hard
cock, which was, of course, all that I was interested in at the time. It was
about one and a half times as big as his hand, so about five inches,
maybe a little more, which I guessed was normal, but I only had myself
to compare with. Matt didn't even see me, he was so engrossed. One
hand glided skillfully up and down his shaft, occasionally running his
fingers over the smooth round tip. The other hand traced circles over his
wet chest, and as his fingers brushed his nipples he lifted his head, his
blonde hair dripping, and let a small, satisfied sigh escape. I watched
intently, admiring his technique, until a moment later, when he took his
slick, sticky hand off his shaft, brought it to his face and hungrily ran his
tongue across his palm.

  Only then could I see that Matt's meat was already covered with the
white liquid that I was so familiar with. He had obviously already cum
earlier, and was using it as lube for his next attempt. What's more, it hit
me; he had just licked it off the palm of his hand! This was a bit too
much for me, and my feet slipped a bit. I tightened my grip on the top of
the wall, but my knee bumped into it before I could stop myself.

  Matt looked up in shock, his smooth, boyish chest rising and falling to
the quick rhythm of his excited breathing. Nicely rounded arms and a
defined body with muscles evident under the last of his baby fat, and
perfect hard nipples made Matt look amazing in the cubicle at that
moment, his hair and skin still gleaming and wet. His eyes were filled
with fear, one hand still wrapped around his cock, and the other frozen
across his chest. I ducked down, I didn't think he had time, or saw
enough of me to recognize me. What must be going through his mind, I
thought. Not only had he been caught jacking, but using his own spunk
as lube, which I guess was okay if Matt had been getting desperate, but
then to lick it off! That was another thing. I quickly ducked into the next
stall on the right and ran the shower, not wanting to think about what
was happening in the next stall.

  Apparently, being caught out had excited Matt even more instead of
deterring him. It wasn't long before I heard the series of short, throaty
grunts and scarcely-suppressed cries that were the universal signal that
the boy in the next stall had just blown a second load all over himself,
the shower floor... his hands... his smooth stomach... who knows. I shut
my eyes but couldn't fight off the image of Matt just two feet away licking
his palm again, just like before, savouring the flavour of his own young
seed. I was already hard, and I had been for some time. As I soaped up
my body, I let my hands wander across my dick, feeling my fingers run
over the tip like I'd seen Matt do. Behind my closed eyes, the image of
him doing the same thing gave me a jolt of excitement.

  A cold breeze blew in through the open window, swirling the steam
around the cubicle, and I felt the skin across my chest tightening in
response. Hesitantly, I brought a hand to my chest and brushed a finger,
then two over each of my nipples. I'd never done that before, I had never
thought of them as sensitive in the same way as my cock. My hand was
stroking at a pretty fast pace now. Already, I could feel the cum rising in
my groin. I took a deep breath, and slowed my hand down as well. As my
chest heaved, I pictured Matt one more time, his wide eyes filled with
excitement and fear, the look he might have had on his face as he
grunted out that second load. What if I'd done it at the same time, and
we were moaning, stroking and shooting our loads onto the same shower
floor just a metre apart? What if he'd looked in on me, knowing that I
was in here? What would I want him to see... if he was watching me
now?

  That was too much. I pumped harder as the feeling grew, and a low cry
escaped my lips as I let three blasts of my boy spunk hit the tiles. My
eyes still closed, I felt the warm cum dribble through my fingers and drip
onto my legs and feet. I couldn't quite bring myself to taste it afterwards,
though, as much as I wanted to. By the time I finished showering and
dried off, got dressed and left the stall, Matt was already gone. I checked
his stall, and he had cleared any evidence of what he'd done there.

  I climbed into my bunk that night feeling awkward and not knowing
what to say to Matt the next morning. But did Matt even know it was me
who caught him? If he did, he probably wouldn't say anything about it.
Maybe he'd think I would tell, and that he would get in trouble.
Conflicting emotions troubled my young mind that night, and I was left
to fall asleep to the rhythmic breathing of five others in my cabin.