Date: Fri, 30 Mar 2001 00:35:42 -0500 From: Chad M. <chadtales@hotmail.com> Subject: Justin's Boyhood, chapter 2 JUSTIN'S BOYHOOD by Chad Author's Note: This story contains descriptions of sexual acts between minors. If you don't like this, don't read it. The characters and events are purely from the imagination of the author, and in no way represent any actual persons or events. Any similarity is purely coincidental. ++++++ Chapter Two THE LITTLE VISITOR The next day at school, I began to wonder just who else knew this lovely little secret. Who else practiced this forbidden, yet totally pleasurable activity? In English class, we had to write a short critical essay. Well, it seemed short to me, since I was finished in 20 minutes. It took the rest of the class the whole period, and some of them had to finish it for homework. Anyway, after I was done, I moved over to the little reading table the teacher had set up in the room. I found a magazine I liked, and moved around the table so I was facing the class. However, I couldn't concentrate on the articles--I was too busy scanning the faces of the boys in the room, trying to guess whether or not they "did it." In the front row sat Kelvin, a small black boy who was totally obsessed with basketball. He doesn't. Then there was Kyle, a little blond dude with a squeaky voice. His nickname was Mouse because he was so small. Probably wouldn't hit puberty for another two years. Naah, he doesn't. Chris was a tall boy whose mother was either Mexican or Spanish. He was a real chick magnet, even though he never seemed to have a steady girl. Instead, he was know to be a "player." He does. Perry was a rather dim boy who was two years behind in school. Not a lot else going for him...he definitely does. Then I looked at Matt Richards. He seemed to be finished with his essay, and held the eraser end of his pencil in his mouth. It took me a minute, but then I realized the he was staring directly back at me! As we made eye contact, he gave me a little sly grin, and then looked down at his paper. I went into panic mode. How long had he been looking at me? Did he see me looking at the other boys in the room? And what was that little grin about? I tried to go back to my magazine, and soon I was literally saved by the bell. Despite that close call, I spend the rest of the day looking at the other boys, imagining what they must look like when they jacked off. I tried to picture the expressions on their faces when they came, and I speculated as to the size of their equipment, and how much hair they had (if any). But my thoughts kept coming back to Matt. He was the jack-off expert, so he definitely must do it. How long was his dick? What color were his pubes? How much sperm did he shoot? All of those things were on my mind that afternoon as I got home from school. I unlocked the door and couldn't get up to my bedroom fast enough. I dropped my jeans and boxers in one motion, jumped up on the bed, and immediately started stroking. I closed my eyes, and saw Matt's face...his naked body...his stroking...and finally, his orgasm as I shot all over my chest. It was my first masturbation fantasy. I lay there, my chest still heaving, when I suddenly heard the door slam downstairs. Sitting up, I glanced over at the clock. It was only 4:30--too early for Mom or Dad to be home. "Justin!" I heard in the distance. It was Bryan, a kid from down the block. Shit, I got to remember to lock the door when I do this, I thought to myself. I made a mad dash to wipe off my chest with my t-shirt. My boxers were still lining my jeans, so I pulled them on together. I was standing there shirtless and sockless when Bryan stuck his head in the room. "You in here?" he asked. "Don't you believe in knocking?" "I always come in without knocking. You never said anything about it before." This was true. I never minded his coming right on in. Not before now, anyway. Bryan spent many afternoons at my house, even though he was three years younger than me. Like me, he was more intellectual than athletic, although he enjoyed a playful wrestling match once in a while. He studied me for a moment, and I must have looked uncomfortable. "What have been doing?" he asked. "Nothing! What do you mean?" "You're like all sweaty, and your face is red." "I don't know...maybe it's just hot in the room or something." "It don't feel hot to me. Smells though. Smells like my brother's room." Then it hit me. I, too, caught that faintly bleachy aroma of sperm. My wet t-shirt--the evidence of my activities--was lying on the bed beside me. At nine years old, Bryan was the youngest of a family of three boys. His brother Dale was 14, and was a ninth grader at my junior high. Dale's rugged good looks and positive attitude made him extremely popular with the girls. His older brother, Kevin, was 16 and in high school. Kevin was not nearly as good looking as his brothers, nor as out- going. He was smarter, though, and was heavily into his photography hobby. As for Bryan, he was the perfect blend of his two older brothers. He had the good looks of Dale, and the shyness of Kevin. He was two inches shy of five feet, and weighed around 80 pounds. His hair was brown near the roots, and sun-bleached on the ends. He wore his hair generally longer than most kids, which made the highlights even more prominent. His skin was nicely tanned, with just a few freckles around his nose. His cheeks stayed pink from the sun, even in the winter months. "Which brother?" I asked as I slipped on a clean shirt. I casually kicked the soiled on under the bed. "Kevin." Then suddenly he lunged at me, throwing me back on the bed. "POWER BOMB!" I didn't particularly care for wrestling, but Bryan was small and light. He didn't really present a threat to me, even when he got carried away. He liked it, and I liked having him around, so I played with him in this way. I know I looked stupid playing with a little kid, but there weren't too many kids around my age on my block. At least that I got along with. Dale was just two years older, but he was deep into sports, which I wasn't. Bryan was the youngest kid on the block, except for some 6- and 7-year- old girls. He also possessed a gentle nature, so he and I just gravitated toward each other. After twenty minutes of muscling around the room, and all over the bed, we were both a little out of breath, so we headed downstairs for a drink. As I poured him some grape soda, he asked "Can you spend the night at my house sometime?" This thought had never entered my mind. I tossed it about for a second, and then answered, "I dunno if that's a good idea. I don't think your brothers like me too much." "Well, I like you! I don't care about them." He pondered a moment. "Well, can I spend the night with you then?" "I dunno. I'll have to ask my mom." Actually, this would be a first. I had never actually had anyone spend the night before. Oh, relatives with kids had stayed the night, but never had I invited a friend to sleep over, nor had I ever been invited to someone's house for the night. One of the disadvantages of being an introvert. As we downed our drinks, my mom pulled up. "Hi honey! Hi Bryan!" she said. She looked tired after a day at the office, but managed a smile for the two of us. We were good kids and she knew it! "Hi, mom!" "Ask her!" pleaded Bryan. "What?" Then we both said together: "Can Bryan/I spend the night Friday?" "Well, I don't see why not!" Mom said. "Cool! Thanks, Mrs. O'Neal!" Bryan exclaimed. He then got up and gave her a hug, almost knocking her backwards. "Just have your mom call me to make sure it's OK." "I will! I'll go tell her now!" Bryan shouted. "Bye, Justin!" He even gave me a quick little hug, and quickly disappeared out the door. Mom said, "Well, we sure made his day!" "Yeah, I guess..." "I'm glad to see you are making some close friends, even if he is a little young..." Then with a gentle reminder to get my homework done before dinner, she sent me to my room. Within the next half-hour, the phone rang, and I could hear Mom talking to Bryan's mother. In two days, I would have my first sleepover.