Date: Thu, 27 Sep 2001 21:45:49 -0400
From: angelo caduto <angelo_caduto86@hotmail.com>
Subject: Fellatio Trail 3

spoting dicks

A series of events happened the day after Jimmy licked my dick. The first
two were not so unusual to happen during the summer. The next day my family
went to our cottage for the weekend. This was a common occurrence for my
family spent most of our weekends at the lake, which was about a two hour
drive from our suburb home.
This trip to the cottage was different for me. Before, all I did was swim in
the lake and eat. Now I could think of only one thing: dicks. With most
older males at the lake wearing a bathing suit I could actually get a good
idea the size of the cock of each person there. Just about everyone my age
or younger wore cutoffs, but anyone who was around adult age worn nylon
suits that clung to their torso.
Though I had not fully comprehended it, I was beginning to understand the
part of my anatomy, I previously thought was for urinating, was part of
physical attractions, not to mention pleasure.
I knew from my capture in the woods, that there were varying sizes. Now I
wanted to explore this. In my mind it was only to compare. By Sunday my
exploring had gotten a bit brazen.
There was a guy, Frank, who was back from basic training, I had seen him
before, previous summers. Now he was wearing a tight bathing suit and was
physically fit from his military training. There was a raft that was used to
jump off of, but we were sunning ourselves. We happened to be the only ones
on the raft at the time. I was caught staring at his crotch.
"What are you looking at," he said with the same menacing smirk that the kid
who had pushed my head onto his cock down by the river the week before had.
"u...um nothing," I stuttered, but the intimidation had an affect of me. I
was nervous it was exciting me. I was getting a hard-on.
"Are you going to have a camp fire later?" Frank asked, in a taunting tone.
When I didn't respond, he laughed and said, "It looks like you are
collecting some wood."
Fortunate I was spared any more harassment when a couple other older guys
pulled down hard on the raft. Though raft had six oil drums for buoyancy and
was capable of supporting six or seven people, if a couple people from the
water pulled on it with all their weight, they could tip enough to knock off
who was on it.
When we were jerked into the water, I swam for the shore. I heard Franking
laughing from the water. When I was able to put my feet on the sandy bottom,
I walked in, adjusting my cock in my cut offs.
My pre-occupation with penis' was not limited to others, I was not
completely fascinated with my own cock. It started on Friday night when I
masturbated before I fell asleep. After lunch on Saturday, my folks went
into the little town near the lake for beer and soda. Normally I tagged
along, spending most of my allowance at the candy counter. Instead I stayed
at the cottage and worked my way to another orgasm.
Of course my focus on autoerotica didn't end at the lake. Back home Sunday
night, I continued. I couldn't sleep and actually masturbated twice. The
second time I imagined Frank forcing me to suck him on the raft.
Second thing to happen in the series of events was when I went looking for
my friend Jimmy I found his family had gone on vacation. I might have known
he was going, but being 12-years-old you don't really keep track of much. I
really wanted to talk to him, about what happened in the tree fort. He was
my best friend, if there was anyone I could talk to about 'playing with
myself' he would be it. It certainly wasn't my parents.
Since Jimmy was gone for a week, I continued to please myself at home. Both
my parents worked, though my mom only worked three days a week at a law
firm. One of the days both of my parents were gone I did a little snooping
in their bedroom. This is when the third incident transpired.
Next to their bed was a nightstand with a couple books on it. I opened the
drawer and found another book: "The Joy of Sex." I couldn't believe the
book; people were having sex in. Regardless of how artistic or subtle the
pictures were, I found the book to be hypnotizing. I just kept looking at
the pictures and reading some of the text.
The day I found the book I masturbated so much at my balls hurt. It scared
me a little. I thought something might be wrong, but I couldn't tell my
parents. I would experiment with touching my penis. Sometimes finding a way
to imitate the people in the book and having intercourse (a word I learned
from the book) to trying to emulate someone sucking my cock or as the book
referred to it: 'Fellatio.'
The next day my mom was off work and we went shopping. It was fortunate,
since it forced me to take a day off from stroking my dick. Of course the
following day, when my mother had to work, I went looking for the book
again. I analyzed the section on fellatio, thinking about technique.
Probably another thing was going on, that I didn't know about before, which
might have explained my sudden interest in sex: I had started puberty.
The next weekend at the lake I was again scanning bathing suits for dicks
and comparing them. I wasn't just looking at dicks, I was finding women to
be exciting to, in their bikinis. Frank, who I had fantasized about several
times during the week had returned to his military service, but there was no
shortage of bodies at the beach. Once, on Saturday, I was even bold enough
to check out the older man next to me at the urinal in the beach house.
To my surprise he caught me glancing over and said: "Man I had to go like a
race horse."
I mumbled something and looked back to my urinal. I thought he had not
realized I was copping a look.
A second later, he let go of his cock and put his hand on my back, "Would
you like an ice cream?"
It was unsettling to feel this strangers hand on my back. I thought he was
going to push me into the urinal. I had that same adrenaline rush from
wondering what he was going to do with me.
"At the Dairy Queen?" I asked, a bit bewildered. The only place you could
get ice cream was at the Dairy Queen and that was a 20 minute drive away.
He was rubbing a circle on my back, with his hand.
"Sort of," He chuckled, "I have some chocolate ice cream at my cottage," he
said and squeezed my shoulder.(The next week when I got out "The Joy of Sex"
I would find that 'queen' was a term used towards homosexuals.
I stopped peeing and in one motion zipped up my pants and spun out of his
grasp.
"No thank you," I said.
"Are you sure?" he asked and when I turned back to say, 'yes,' he had turned
towards me, with his dick still out of his pants.
"Yes," I said turning and moving as quick as I could. The incident kind of
un-nerved me, but it also excited me.
None the less the rest of the weekend I pee-ed in the lake or our cottage.
That weekend I noticed that when I was caught crotch watching there was one
of two reactions: either the person got a little nervous and looked at me
like I was crazy; or they would just smile at me, as if they had a secret.
The thought of the guy, with his penis out in the beach house rolled around
in my thoughts. I knew he would have been scooping up more than ice cream
had I gone with him. The thought also entered my fantasies that I could get
more than ice cream. Part of me thought about the various mass murders that
were in the papers at the time and a part of me wondered what kind of person
would go with the guy. I wondered just what the guy would give me to go back
to is cottage. And of course what would I have to do.
Those thoughts swam in my head Sunday night as I humped my rolled up pillow.
It wasn't the first time I had masturbated this way, but this time I slid a
pepsi bottle in and out of my mouth, thinking about the guy at the beach
house and his dick.