Date: Wed, 22 Feb 2012 09:48:23 -0800 (PST)
From: The Paternal Watcher <hvdude@yahoo.com>
Subject: Junior High series (chapter 10)

Call me slow, but I didn't realize right away that I'd had my first orgasm
in the shower.  It . . .  wasn't what I expected.  I'd read that it was
intense pleasure, but my experience with pleasure didn't yet include
practically blacking out!  And besides, with the water running the way it
was, any semen that might have come out had been diluted and mixed with the
soap, so there was no evidence.

After a day of thinking about it, I decided that I had probably finally
become a man, but I had to be sure.  I needed to reproduce the conditions
of my last shower, but carefully.  I needed to do it when there was plenty
of hot water, and when no one else was around to wonder why I was in there
so long.  It would have to be after school on Tuesday, when my mother was
at work when I got home and all of my siblings had other things to do.

I'd never looked forward so badly to a shower before.  I think I was hard
all day in school -- even in lunch, when I sat next to Harold like I did on
Tuesdays and Thursdays.  I knew I couldn't say anything to him about it, of
course.  The only time we ever talked about this stuff was when we were
daring each other to try things.

I was really, really glad that I didn't have gym that day.  Not that
nakedness was ever an issue for gym class.  Oh, there were showers in a
dusty corner of the locker room, but the teachers never mentioned them and
the boys never even ventured over there to take a closer look.  Maybe
someone had decided that gym classes just didn't justify their use.  I
didn't know and I didn't care, but I did know that there would have been no
way to hide my boner in my underpants, so I was really glad that there was
no gym class.

Running from the bus stop would have been nice, but I wasn't going to
chance it with this unrelenting hard-on.

When I got to my house, my hand was trembling as I put the key in the door.
I was consumed by the idea of the orgasm, and finding out if I'd really had
one.

And I really, really wanted another one.

I rushed to my room, pulling off my shirt and dropping my shoes and book
bag as I went.  Up until this day I had felt . . . something tugging at me,
something unfulfilled.  It was always just out of sight, compelling but
incomprehensible.  Now I comprehended, and I wanted to focus all my energy,
my desire, my curiosity on that tiny little mass of flesh, and force it to
reveal its secrets.

Not bothering to belt my robe, I all but flew from bedroom to bath.  If
anyone had been home they surely would have seen me, robe flapping behind
and boner leading the way, and I would have died of shame.  I closed the
door, started the water, and stepped in as soon as it felt right.  I didn't
feel particularly dirty, but soap had definitely been part of the fun, so I
started lathering up again, starting with my arms and chest, reaching
around back to get between my cheeks (and feeling a strange flutter up
front as I did so), and finally I turned my back to the hot spray and
soaped up my aching knob.

This time, I knew what movements made the electricity.  This time, my knees
went weak faster, and I turned around to sit with my back against the end
of the tub.  The spray hit me mid-chest on down, and as I lifted up and
spread my legs into it I caught quite a thrill as it drummed upon my little
button.  But that was nothing compared to the sensations my penis was
delivering to me.

I stifled a groan -- I was afraid it would echo, even in the empty house.
As I regained my senses, my breath heaved out of me in gasps, and the hot
spray gradually became noticeable again.

I got out of the shower, and thought about the next time I would be seeing
Harold as I dried myself off.  After school tomorrow?  Or sleeping over
this weekend?

Neither, I realized.  Tomorrow night's boy scout troop meeting was starting
early, because those of us going camping this weekend were organizing the
troop gear.

"Crap," I said out loud.  If I had a camping trip, I wouldn't be able to
sleep over Harold's this weekend, either.

"Glad I finally figured out how you work," I said to my penis.