Date: Sun, 7 Oct 2012 14:17:37 +0000 (UTC) From: fiveholepunch@comcast.net Subject: Caught Sniffing Part Four Caught Sniffing Part Four After getting caught by Johnny and Eric, I was afraid to go into the bathroom after hours to look for other student's underwear left behind in the common shower area of our dorms. Eventually, lust overcame fear, but over the next week or so something else occupied my thoughts – Hank's penis. I wanted to see it again. I wanted to know what that stuff was that he had in his underwear. I decided to risk finding out. I knew that dorm time or meal times would be too crowded and I would have to catch Hank after sports or before evening study hall. I watched for my opportunity to talk to the seventh grader, but Hank always seemed to have more than one guy around after sports; I knew it wasn't going to be possible to talk to him under these circumstances. Since we had monitored evening study halls in a classroom, students had to return to the dorms and retrieve their books after dinner and then cross the quad to go to an hour-long study hall. I always ran back to get my books early so I could take a place in the quad to watch for Hank. It took about a week of watching before I saw Hank making his way unaccompanied. I ran up to Hank before anyone else came near. "Hank! Hank!" I called out loudly to the dark-haired boy. "Hallo, Timmy! What is up?" Hank asked, still with a trace of being a non-native English speaker. "Hi, Hank," I said a bit out of breath, genuinely glad to see his smile at my greeting, "I wanted to talk to you." "Sure, Timmy. What about?" "Well, it's kind of private," I confided, "I don't want anyone else to hear." "Okay. Let's go over there," Hank suggested, indicating a few trees near the on the side of the quad with a nod of his head. After making our way away from the regularly trodden path and I was sure that we were beyond anyone else hearing, I summoned up my courage. "Hank, do you remember last week when you scared me in the bathroom?" "Yeah, sorry about that." "Hank ..." I paused. "I ... I wanted to ask you ..." I paused again. Then, really quickly, I blurted out, "What was that stuff that was in your underwear? And what is a wet dream? I didn't know who else to ask." Hank smiled and he almost laughed, but he caught himself. He then became serious in order not to embarrass me. "That sticky stuff in my underwear was sperm. You know, what a man uses to make babies? A wet dream is when the sperm comes out when you're asleep after having a really nice dream." "Oh," I answered, but not fully comprehending. Hank could see that I really didn't know anything about sex. "Look, Timmy, it would take too long to explain now," Hank offered, "can you meet me after study hall?" "Yeah, sure Hank, where do you want to meet?" "We can't really meet in the dorms because there would be too many guys listening in. What room are you in for study hall?" "203," I replied. "I'm in 210. Right after study hall ends meet me in the boy's room at the top of the stairs right next to room 301. You know the one I'm talking about?" "Yeah, I know which one you're talking about," I confirmed. "Good, I'll meet you there and I can answer some of your questions." "Okay," I excitedly agreed, "I'll see you there Hank. Thanks a lot, I mean I appreciate it." "Let's get to study hall before were late," Hank warned. We both went into the same building for our one-hour study hall. I felt really good. All through study hall I could only think about what Hank might teach me. As soon as study hall ended I ran down the hall and up the stairs. This particular building on campus was very old and the boy's lavatory extended fairly far back. The sinks and urinals were up front and the commodious stalls were further back. There was actually a bench up front where you could sit or put your book bag down. I knew why Hank suggested this third floor lavatory, there were no study halls on the third floor at night and it was highly unlikely that anybody would come up the stairs to use these facilities. We would have a half an hour before we had to be in our dorm. I threw my book bag on the bench and quickly checked my appearance in the mirror. Only a minute had passed before the door opened and Hank came in. "Hi, Hank." "Hallo, Timmy." Hank threw his book bag on the bench. "Well, Timmy, what do you want to know?" I replied in a low voice, afraid that somebody else might hear, "I've got a bunch of questions. How does sperm make babies? Does sperm come out of your penis like pee? How does that happen?" "Sperm can come out of your dick when it's hard, but it's not like pee, it's kind of gooey and sticky," my seventh grade schoolmate informed me sotto voce. "It makes babies when you put it in a woman's pussy. That's why your dick gets hard, so you can stick it in." I had no reason to doubt Hank, but this was news to me. I knew what girls looked like naked, sort of, from pictures and I knew where babies came from, but I hadn't really thought about the mechanics of impregnation before. "How do you get it to come out?" I asked in all innocence. Looking back, I'm sure Hank had anticipated that our conversation would head in this direction. "I can show you if you want." "Would you?" "Sure. C'mon, let's go back to one of the stalls." We went to the farthest one back, of course. After stepping inside Hank took off his jacket and hung it on the hook. "Have you ever played with your dick when it was hard, Timmy?" "Uh-huh," I admitted blushingly. "That's okay, all guys do it," Hank explained, "it's called masturbating or jerking off. Have you ever gotten a really good feeling when you played with yourself?" "Yeah, I get all tingly and my penis twitches," I confessed. "That's called an orgasm," Hank declared. "Have you ever noticed any juice the end of your dick?" "Sometimes there are a couple drops." "You'll probably make sperm soon." "Really?" "Do you want to see me make some?" Hank asked. "Yeah, Hank. I sure would." Hank unzipped the gray wool trousers we all wore as part of our school uniforms. He fumbled with the fly of his white cotton briefs trying to free his already fattening penis. He pulled his member out and allowed it to hang down from his pants. I was transfixed by the heavily-hooded glans. My legs trembled in excitement. "Have you ever seen a foreskin before?" Hank asked. "No." "You can touch it if you want." I could see Hank lengthen rhythmically with every beat of his pulse. My mouth was dry. I wanted to reach out and touch it. I had never touched another boy's penis before. "Go ahead." I put my hand on it. It was thick. I could feel the foreskin slide on head of Hank's penis as he became fully stiff. "Slide it back and forth." I did. I could see the ruddy ring roll back exposing the moist, reddened glans. I felt the scratchy wool of Hank's trousers on my hand as I slid his skin downward, it contrasted with the smoothness of the older boy's skin. My erection tented painfully in my trousers. "You can take yours out if you want," Hank suggested noticing my protruding fly. "Okay, Hank." I let go of Hank's erection. It stood hard. I unzipped my trousers and pulled my cut, four inch boner out of my cotton briefs. My knob was deep blue against the white fabric of my underwear. "Can I touch it?" Hank asked. "Yeah, if you want to." As his fingers touched my hard penis I felt like I might pass out. There's no other word for it, I swooned. "Ohh!" "Do you want to rub our penises together?" Hank suggested. "Yeah ... Okay," I agreed in a daze. I was incapable of thinking at this point. Hank came closer. He reached down and lightly lifted the back of my thigh with his left hand; I stood on tiptoe. Hank rubbed his stiff, hooded cockhead on the tip of my erection. "Unhh ..." I gasped. Hank was breathing hard. "I'm getting close to sperming, Timmy," Hank said huskily. I don't know why I said this, but I was thinking of Hank scooping his ejaculation out of his underpants in the bathroom. I wanted to feel the stickiness. "Sperm in my pants." "What?" "I want you to sperm in my underpants," I repeated, "like in your wet dream." Hank looked crazed, his nostrils flared. He picked me up with both hands under my rear. "Get up on my thighs," Hank ordered. I hopped up and put my trousered thighs on top of his. Hank pushed my back up against the stall door. He was trying to guide his erection into my fly. He wasn't succeeding. "Help me get it in," the seventh grader desperately asked for assistance. I reached down and tried to put his penis in my open fly; I couldn't, my erection was in the way. It took me a few moments to fumble my own erection into my underwear. "Hurry, Timmy!" I reached down and tucked the dripping head of Hank's stiff rod into the opening of my cotton briefs. Hank immediately thrust his five inches in full length. I could feel it slide next to my hardness and over my hairless crotch. "Nnngh!" Hank groaned. Hank started to thrust back and forth; his hot phallus was pressed tightly in between my pants and my soft, smooth skin. There was an increasing slippery wetness as Hank pounded harder and harder. I could feel Hank's hot breath on my neck. "Ohh ... Ohh ... Ohhh!" I was getting my tingling. My cock twitched excitedly against Hank's intruding thickness. "I'm ... uhh ... I'm ... I'm going to ... Sperm!" Hank gasped. "Gnngh! ... Gnnghh! ... Gnnghhh!" Hank grunted, over and over, through clenched teeth. I could feel the spurts of thick cream, one after another, flood my cotton briefs. Hank stopped thrusting. We both caught our breath. Hank then lowered me slowly to my feet. His cock slid sloppily from the fly of my trousers. It left a smear of his semen on the crotch of my wool slacks. Hank smiled sheepishly. He wiped it off with his finger. "Sorry," Hank apologized, a little embarrassed. "That's okay," I replied. We both didn't know what to say. Hank wiped his finger on his underwear and tucked his limp, glistening penis into his jockeys and zipped up. I was still erect, but I zipped up as well. I could feel Hank's ejaculation drip downward in the pouch of my underwear. I felt pretty wet. "You better pull your shirt tails out if it starts to soak through." "Okay." "Don't worry, its dark outside," Hank assured me, "nobody's likely to see you in the quad. Just go upstairs with your book bag in front of you and change as quickly as possible." "Okay, Hank." "Hey, Timmy, I'm sorry. I couldn't help it," Hank apologized again. "It's okay. I asked you to." "You're not mad at me are you?" "No, Hank," I assured him again, "it's okay. I like learning stuff with you." Hank smiled and tousled my hair. He put on his jacket and straightened his tie. We left the toilet stall and grabbed our stuff off the bench. Hank peeked out the door to see if anyone was in the hall. "We better split up when we leave, just in case," Hank warned. "I'll go ahead and give you signal if the stairways are clear, okay? Or, do you want to go first?" "No, it's better if you go first." I didn't know how fast I could walk; the cotton fabric was clinging to my still iron-hard stiffy. "I'll see you tomorrow, Timmy," Hank said with genuine affection. "Okay, Hank, see you tomorrow." Hank went ahead and having reached the bottom of the staircase gave me the signal that it was all clear. I waved goodbye and made my way down the stairs. With every step, my boner rubbed back and forth across the wet material. I was still keyed up, my penis tingled. I felt like I had to rub myself. I made my way into the cool night air. It was about five minutes to curfew and very few boys were still outside. I made a bold decision. I went over to the trees where Hank and I talked earlier. I hid in the shadows where no one could see. I put my book bag down, stuck my hand in my pants pocket and began to masturbate. I could feel the cool wetness on my scrotum. I closed my eyes and, within a very short time, came. "Nngh! Nnggh! Oh! Ohhhh ..." I did my best to stifle my groans. I quickly recovered and picked up my books and made my way to the dorms. It was easier than I thought to get to my locker and strip off for the showers. I took off my trousers and threw them into my locker. I was hit by the overwhelming smell of Hank's semen in my underwear. I peeled them off and stuck them far back in my underwear drawer. I wrapped a towel around my waist and headed toward the showers. I worried that someone would notice the smell, but I guess the smell of a bunch of sweaty young boys at the end of the day is pretty strong in and of itself. As I lay in bed that night I thought of everything that happened. I got stiff again. I thought about sneaking my semen-soiled underwear out of the closet and smelling them while I masturbated under the covers, but I didn't want anyone to catch me with them. And besides, I was pretty tired from the day's activities. I did smell them every night after that for almost a week before I had to put them in the laundry. My underwear drawer smelled like Hank's semen for quite a while. Hank taught me more about semen and foreskins over the next several weeks. I didn't think anything could be more exciting than smelling another boy's underpants redolent with semen or the feel of a foreskin sliding over an engorged cockhead in one's hand. I was wrong. The taste and feel on one's tongue surpassed it. --------------------------- Dear Reader, You may well ask if Timmy will forget his fascination for discovering the misplaced undergarments of his classmates. And what of Roger? Fear not. Timmy will soon revisit the other olfactory sensations that aroused his interest in our earlier chapters and Roger will be instrumental in rekindling that interest. Your author, Five Hole Punch All Rights Reserved. Copyright 2012.