Date: Tue, 24 Jan 2017 12:02:39 -0500
From: The Paternal Watcher <mfvb@protonmail.com>
Subject: Junior High series (chapter 13)

During finals week, when the windows were open, the kids wore shorts, and
we only showed up for either morning or afternoon tests, I ran into Harold
again. "Hey," I said, as we turned into the same hall at the same time
going in the same direction. There were really only two directions to go --
cafeteria and gym -- so it was pretty much bound to happen.


"Hey," he said. We walked towards our respective tests.


I knew he was going upstairs and I wasn't, so when we approached the stairs
I turned to say goodbye. Instead, he asked me, "What do you have tomorrow?
Anything?"


"Just one more, on Friday," I said.


"How about you sleep over and then we bike to the beach?" he asked. "You'd
have to bike over to my house, though."


"I'll ask," I said before we parted, my heart racing in excitement. I had
gotten the feeling our friendship was fading, but maybe not.


Asking permission was a lot easier in a world without cell phones. I simply
got on Harold's bus, and called my parents from his house. "I missed mine,
so I took his," I explained. "I don't have a test tomorrow and we could
both use a break from studying which is why we want to go to the beach."
This puts the parents in the position of either leaving you where you are,
or coming to get you, which is normally enough to win the day. It was a
little bit of risk since I needed my bicycle and swim trunks, but I knew my
mom was in a good mood and Dad wasn't home from work yet. She agreed.


We messed around for awhile before scouring the kitchen for anything to
eat. I don't know what it was that Harold's mother did, but she wasn't
around much. I knew his parents were divorced but whether that meant dad
paid for the big house or she worked I never asked. She showed up after
eight, when we were downstairs watching Conan, and after speaking to us
briefly she kissed Harold on the top of his head and said, "Mommy's going
out for a little while. Don't stay up too late."


After she had driven away, he said, "She won't be home until maybe 3 in the
morning. Ever watch movies naked?"


"If we do, I won't be watching the movies," I said, and he laughed.


"We can get naked now," he said, and we did, but we carried our clothes up
to his room anyway, just to be sure.


We dropped the clothes and looked at each other. Each of us was hard, his
sticking more towards the ceiling and mine pointing directly at
him. Feeling bold, I grabbed Harold by his cock and said, "Can you guess
what I'm watching now?" I squeezed him a bit and moved closer to rub my own
hard-on against his and his hips.


"Let's get on the bed," he said, completely swept up in my shameless
approach. Or fearless. Or maybe just crazy horny. Whatever it was, I wanted
sex and now I was having it again.


He climbed on top of me in the bed and started rubbing himself up against
me, our dicks mushing together in a way I really liked. "Let me put it
between your legs," I said in a whisper.


"Okay," he said, lifting himself so I could reposition myself. Feeling his
warm legs all around me was amazing! Harold must have liked it too because
he began grinding against me harder, and suddenly I heard a sticky sound
which was my first clue that he'd gotten off between us. I grabbed his
buns, reluctant to let him get up before I got off, but I didn't have to
keep him there long before I exploded as well. As my semen lubricated the
space between his thighs I just about went insane, it felt so
good. Honestly, I think I almost threw up, which sounds weird but felt
better than I could try to describe.


Harold got up quickly then, and tossed me a towel from his hamper before
vanishing into the bathroom. I was wiped up when he got back, and since he
started to get dressed again I followed suit.


"Let's watch movies like this," he said.


"Sure," I said, realizing playtime was over. I wondered if Harold was
getting weird about our fun, or if I was just imagining it. What never
occurred to me, mind you, was actually asking him. That might end the whole
shebang, and I didn't want that!

* * * I was still wondering if something was up with Harold when I got home
late the next morning. As was usual for us, we were one and done when it
came to sexual encounters, but I had no reason to worry on that score: sex
felt incredible, and more than one orgasm a day almost seemed greedy to
me. On the other hand, what if Harold didn't want to do things any longer?
Would he tell? Probably not. Would I be able to find more kids to do stuff
with, without getting beat up or worse?


I knew I could probably do something with Mark again, but even though he
was my friend I didn't feel as interested. I wasn't sure at all why --
especially considering how good his mouth felt -- but there it was.


Walking the dog in the park later that afternoon, I ran into one of the
boys I NEVER talked to: Billy Cragmoor. Billy is definitely one of the bad
kids; I think he started smoking in fourth grade. At least that's the first
time I saw him smoking with a group of other kids as I cut through a vacant
lot on the way home from school. I wasn't invited to stop, and I didn't ask
to; I just kept going on my way.


Mostly, Billy moved in his circles, and I moved in mine, but our paths
occasionally crossed. He actually taped a "kick me" sign to my back once in
fifth grade, and in sixth there was that time in the bathroom. We all went
at the same time usually, when the teacher decided to, but he never
actually went in with us. He just stood outside of the door, probably
listening. There's a lot that you can't hear from the other side of a door,
though. One time, out of the blue, Billy finished up at a urinal and turned
around to look at me, his dick in his hand. He was still shaking it, like
he was trying to get the piss out, but pointing it at me. Some of the other
boys laughed, and then he put it away. I guess that technically was the
first time I saw someone else's, but I mostly didn't want to remember it
happening. It was just weird.


Billy was smoking a cigarette. I felt safer having my dog with me, but my
dog didn't seem particularly on guard. Billy said, "Hey," as he approached,
and my dog licked his hand. Some protection.


"What's going on, Joey?" he said to me.


"It's Joe now," I said quietly.


"Joe, okay," he said, as if tasting the name. "Normal, ordinary Joe."


"Yeah."


"Things going good with you?" He took another drag from his cigarette, and
I wondered where this was going. I wanted to go home.


"Okay, I guess."


What he said next shook me to the core. "I heard you got grounded for
jerking off a friend."