Date: Sat, 14 Jan 2017 17:05:40 -0500
From: The Paternal Watcher <mfvb@protonmail.com>
Subject: Junior High series, chapter 12

"Do I still owe you five dollars?" I asked once I caught my breath.


"Maaaaaybe . . . let's brush our teeth," Harold replied.


We went into the bathroom, still naked, still hard, and tried to aim our
penises at the bowl before getting the taste out of our mouths. I was
beginning to see how useful urinals are.


By the time we got back to his room, we were both pretty limp, and Harold
pulled on some shorts, signaling that the fun part of the day was over
with. Well, okay, there are other fun things we do together, but this one
kind of had my full attention at the moment, whether we were playing on the
computer or running around in the park. It's not like I was actually hard
the whole time or anything like that; I just couldn't stop thinking about
how good orgasms feel and nice it was to have someone to orgasm with. If
there was a part of my brain that was thinking the word "gay," it was
completely overwhelmed by the thoughts of Harold and his cock. And those
bouncy balls. His butt was interesting too, but mostly because you just
don't see a lot of butts, especially your own. I liked that his armpits
didn't have hair, and didn't even realize that those smooth little nipples
of his would probably sprout some at a future date. All I knew for sure is
that I shouldn't let him know that I was thinking about sex constantly,
because that would make me a pervert for real.


I was still scared of being thought some kind of freak when we finally went
to bed, so I decided to just let Harold take the lead, if that's what he
wanted to do. That might have been a mistake, because we were both asleep
before I even realized it, him in his bed, me on the floor at its foot. His
bed was big enough for both of us -- as we already knew -- but sleeping
together? Now THAT would be GAY!


The next thing I knew, he was calling my name. My eyes flew open to see his
head sticking over the foot of the bed, and then I realized my hand was in
my shorts. For some reason that embarrassed me, and I pulled it out quickly
enough to make it obvious. He laughed a little, but not in a mean way. "My
mom's making us breakfast," he said. "She's going to drop you off and then
take me to Hebrew school." Our latest adventure was over, and I found
myself wanting even more.


I was home before noon, and while my thoughts were still mostly lingering
on sex (making me wonder if there was something wrong with me), I managed
to negotiate dealing with family without being found out.


There was no doubt I felt different. I felt like a man. I had unlocked the
secrets of my penis, and even though it had been a long time before I was
able to share that with my friend -- that campout hadn't been nearly as
interesting as the time those older boys were playing truth or dare, and we
hadn't been able to have a sleepover the next week, either -- I'd finally
showed him what I could do in probably the manliest way possible, by doing
it right in his mouth. That was awesome, but I tried not to think about
that moment too much, or I'd get hard again. I tried to sit down and do
some homework, but I just couldn't focus yet. The springtime breeze wafted
inside, carrying with it birdsong and the sounds of kids playing.

* * * As exciting as sex was -- if you could even call it sex, without
intercourse, or without a girl -- and as much as we both seemed to enjoy
it, weeks crawled by without us seeing each other outside of school. It was
pretty maddening, and it definitely affected how I acted. There was the
talking like a pervert around our friends at school, for one, and I started
making up sex-crazed fantasies in my journal. Pretty much all of my friends
got the treatment, sooner or later. I was terribly curious about what they
each looked like naked.

Then there was the time one weekend when I decided to sneak out of my house
late at night, wearing only a zipper-down hoodie that I left open. After my
parents were asleep, I slipped out the door in bare feet into the mostly
warm, slightly damp air. It was just cool enough to harden my pink
nipples. My dick didn't need the temperature to stimulate it. I walked
quietly around the side of my house and mounted my banana-seat bike, my
hard tool sticking straight into the air between my hairless thighs, which
seemed whiter than ever under the soft glow of the street lights. I enjoyed
taking the risk, but I didn't go far; only two or three houses away, then
circling back. When I returned, I was so excited that I stopped the bicycle
and put my feet on the asphalt in the middle of the street to stabilize
it. One hand stayed on the handle bars, but the grabbed my pulsing cock and
went to town. The prospect of a car rounding the corner sent me into a
tizzy of stimulation, and I blasted out my load all over the seat, even
though I'd meant to point it at the ground.


I didn't really understand what an explosive fire hose this was between my
legs, but I knew I needed more Harold. Or someone. I was going out of my
mind.


Even though I was acting more like I had sex on the brain, I didn't know
how bad it was until I had another friend over one day after school. Mark
was, like me, looking forward to the start of summer, which wasn't so long
away; the warm weather outside made the school days drag on forever. He
came over on the bus, and we went straight to my room after making the
briefest of small talk with my mother. She'd trained me fairly early to
change out of school clothes right away, so without so much as a by-your
leave I started peeling off my shirt, shoes, and pants. I stopped talking
to Mark mid-sentence when I realized we didn't even have gym together.


"Sorry, Mom always wants me to change," I said.


"It's okay," he replied. "Wear whatever you like, it's your room, and you
closed the door."


Honestly, I didn't have a single dirty thought until that moment.


I pulled down my pants -- without even checking the pockets -- and laid
them in a careful heap in the corner, where it would be impossible for
anyone else to tell if they were clean enough to wear again or not. I could
feel myself getting hard, and I could feel Mark's eyes on me as I tried to
continue holding a conversation. My heart sped up as I pulled open my
dresser drawer and pulled out a clean pair of underpants. Sitting down next
to him on the bed, I held them up. "She wants me to change everything," I
lied. Mark shrugged, maybe in understanding, maybe something else. I
couldn't be sure which it was, but I didn't care enough to think about it.


Acting as smoothly as if getting naked while hard into front of a friend
was the most ordinary thing in the world, I slid down the pair I was
wearing, exposing myself completely and not trying to hide anything. Mark
looked, and didn't try to hide that he was looking. "Changing is such a
pain," I said. "When I get home from school, all I really want to do is
relax." With that, I laid back and stretched.


I had never thought about Mark sexually, despite my recently-journaled
fantasies. He wasn't in any of my classes, when I would cook up scenarios
while I was bored; I shared lunch with him, which was one of the few times
of day remaining that sex wasn't my top priority. What I was doing could
have lead to shame and ridicule for life, but it didn't.


Instead, Mark leaned over and put my dick all the way into his mouth.


Not that I had a huge amount of experience, but WOW, it felt really good! I
didn't think a mouth could feel better than Harold's had, but Mark's sure
did, and he wasn't even going up and down or doing anything at all as far
as I could tell by looking. By feeling, though, I was going to be finished
really, really soon at the rate things were going. An older, more
experienced me might have told him to stop for a minute so I didn't shoot
so fast. 12-year-old me wanted to get off as quickly as possible, because
isn't that the whole point? I didn't make a sound -- I am not sure I even
breathed -- the entire time he was down on me. I looked at the ceiling, or
at his lips stretched around the base of my cock, and then I just
. . . shot.


"S-sorry. . . " I gasped.


Mark just grunted. At some point he'd taken his own dick out, and I was
surprised that it was smaller than mine. I guess I figured all the boys my
age would be about the same size. He was stroking it quick, and in just a
few seconds it was spraying jizz all over my carpeting, which was a weird
orange color that made all the evidence vanish when it was rubbed in. Maybe
that's why my parents got it for me in the first place.