Date: Tue, 9 Mar 2010 11:59:49 -0800 (PST)
From: erik ritler <erikritler@yahoo.com>
Subject: Mike and Joey

Writing is an entertaining distraction for me, and I often hope that the
stories I post on Nifty are equally as entertaining to the readers. Below
is a tale of young friends. For those who are interested in such things, I
will say that the entire story is fantasy with the exception of Patrick's
behavior after gym class. This actually happened, and the character and
event are stolen from real-life. I sometimes wonder whatever became of the
real-world Patrick, whose brash behavior has remained fresh in my memory
even years later.

Also, for those who enjoy the story, I will point out that the character of
Mike is from my science fiction series 'Space Ship Boys', which you will
find in the science fiction section on Nifty. The story below stands alone
and is not sci-fi, but if you enjoy it you might want to check out Mike's
other adventures there.

I always welcome comments, criticism, suggestions and whatever else you
might want to email about (the current weather in Maine, perhaps?) You can
reach me at erikritler@yahoo.com. In the meantime, enjoy this latest tale.




Mike and Joey


Mike Albers was a twelve-year old with a secret, a secret that had
preoccupied him completely since winding its way into his life one month
prior. His secret was that he was broken, or so he'd come to conclude.

The state of being broken was simple enough, but the solution, it seemed,
was far less straightforward. The problem was, in Mike's mind, that the
part of him that was broken was that one boy part that you never spoke
about; the one part you never admitted wasn't functioning properly. If it
were a kidney, he'd have gone to his parents or the class nurse. The
problem was with his penis, a part he had trouble naming even in the
confines of his own head, and so Mike wasn't apt to seek help.

If someone were told how much time and energy the boy had put into thinking
about this, how many hours he'd lain awake at night fretting over the
subject, they might conclude that he was subject to some tremendous penile
defect. The fact of the matter was that for all intents and purposes, Mike
Albers was an average, healthy preteen - his boy parts included. In fact,
having skipped two grades and having never suffered much worse than a minor
cold, Mike rated statistically higher than most of his peers in pretty much
every category, both mental and physical.

And yet, the tawny youth had recently become obsessed with the idea that he
was defective 'down there'. In response, he'd taken to biking in endless
loops around his neighborhood for hours each afternoon. Today it was
drizzling and grey, and he was losing sensation in both his butt and right
foot, but he couldn't help circling and obsessing, pushing hard up the
steep hills and racing down the other sides, the crisp March wind buffeting
him and seeping into his windbreaker.  He found the sounds the bike chains
made as the wheels circled helped him clear his head. And so, as he began
his third hour of riding, he decided to start again at the very beginning.

The problem began, as many problems throughout human history have, with a
boner. Actually, four boners.

It had been the end of a long gym class, the one where they make you run a
mile, which was also the one where they don't excuse anyone from running
even if it's unseasonably wet outside, and even if the "track" the school
district is too cheap to pave becomes a giant mud bog. Having completed the
run, the class had ambled into the locker room to begin the ritual of group
showering, something Mike had never been entirely comfortable with. Being
two (and in some cases three or four) years younger than his classmates, he
was a little sensitive to his physical immaturity, even if he made up for
it in brains. He was always a bit smaller and thinner than his peers, many
who were well into puberty.  He knew he would catch up, but that didn't
help much with the embarrassment of being nude amongst more developed boys.

Not that he minded the showers this particular day. A pasty, watery grit
had worked its way between his legs during the run, and he was
freezing. All he wanted to do was take a hot shower, even if it was with
thirty other guys.

The boys in the shower were quiet, everyone being tired and quite
filthy. At least, it was slightly silent before a booming voice echoed
throughout the tiled chamber.

"HEY BOYOS!" a boisterous voice thundered. Mike jumped, but he didn't have
to turn around to know it was resident class-clown Patrick Retsen.

Patrick was a lot like Mike, actually, in the respect that he scored off
the charts intellectually. They sparred for top grades in every
subject. Patrick was exactly the opposite of Mike in the respect that he
was completely uncontrollable. He was known for entering a classroom and
harshly scraping his fingernails along the blackboard. He'd also developed
a system of weekly code words that would temporarily make a normal word
serve as a synonym for something dirty. Mrs.  Bates had absolutely no idea
why Edgar Alan Poe's 'The Raven' was quite so hilarious, but then she had
no way of knowing that currently 'nevermore!' actually translated to
'ejaculate!' for her class that particular day. It wasn't brilliant humor,
but it was popular amongst the young teenagers.

Patrick's latest bout of manic behavior was that he'd entered the shower
completely nude (which was not unusual) and covered head-to-toe in mud
(which was relatively unusual). It was more mud than he'd naturally
accumulated during the run, to be sure, in some places it looked like it
was smeared on a half inch thick. Paired with his longish blond hair, which
was now matted with mud, the filthiness gave him a tribal look. Like he was
a cannibal out of some wacky pulp adventure novel. This was reinforced when
he loudly proclaimed himself the "supreme monkey king of the showers" and
began dancing around the room in what was apparently an imitation of how
monkeys dance. This would have been bizarre had any of the other boys done
it, but for Patrick it was par for the course.

Patrick's antics were greeted as they usually were, by smiles, jeers and
cheers.  Even Mike had to laugh - the guy sure had personality.

It was during his monkey dance, as all attention was focused on Patrick,
that he had a biological response. He started to get hard, which wasn't all
that uncommon in a room packed with nude twelve-to-fourteen year-olds. This
was usually met with a blush and quick retreat by the owner of the
erection, but seeing as how Patrick was quite insane, he neither blushed
nor retreated, and instead opted to draw further attention to his
predicament.

Standing in the center of the shower room, he bellowed exuberantly, "Naked
Monkey King says, naked monkeys swing!" And with that, dancing and singing
some monkey king theme song he was composing on the fly, Patrick had
pressed his hand into his pubes, wagging his penis up and down so that it
swung in rhythm to his dancing. Patrick often performed in the showers.

"Yo!" he bellowed in between verses of his song, sliding along the wet
slippery tile floor and plowing into his "posse", the group of three he
spent most waking hours with, Vince, Travis and Tim. He threw his arms over
Vince and Tim, who were noticeably uncomfortable with the physical contact,
but they didn't say anything. Patrick was a completely dominant
personality, and there were endless perks to being in his group, so they
mostly put up with his craziness.

"C'mon guys," Patrick said, "naked Monkey King says, naked monkeys swing."
He was still swaying to the rhythms of his makeshift melody, and started to
swing his hips a little wider, smacking into Vince and Tim's naked bodies
on each side.  They laughed as they began swinging from side to side with
Patrick, their junk swinging in rhythm to Patrick's song. This resulted in
all four of them developing erections, and the group was subjected to one
of the odder scenes they would share as classmates - four boys swinging
their bones to a tune in the showers, mud running off Patrick's body in
thick brown streams.

Ultimately the monkey king song evolved into a rendition of the theme from
"Gilligan's Island", which the entire group took up with gusto, and after
that things returned to normal. The four tumescent youths finished
showering and made their way back to the changing room, where they stuffed
themselves into their shorts and went on with their school day.

Although many of the boys would remember the day four of their peers got
hard together goofing off and singing in front of the entire gym class even
years later, it was just another bout of hijinks on a long list of hijinks
associated with Patrick Retsen, and most put it out of their minds as soon
as something else came along to entertain their twitchy adolescent minds.

But for Mike, the incident proved, at least in his mind, that his dick was
broken.

That afternoon had given Mike an opportunity to check out the erect assets
of four classmates. These were the first 'real life' erections Mike had
ever seen, and they'd confirmed something that Mike had feared about
erections - they were supposed to be straight. And all four had been,
sticking prominently from adolescent crotches, four to six inches of solid
all-American boner, each as straight and proud as a wooden ruler (or a
plastic ruler, for that matter).

Mike's, however, was not so straight. He'd been getting erections for about
a year, and ever since then he'd been concerned that he was, well, quite
curved.  His dick didn't point straight out of his crotch like dicks were
supposed to, his extended at an upward forty-five degree angle, curving
about halfway up the shaft so that the tip pointed almost directly at the
ceiling. This had bothered him a little at first, but only as much as
anything else about his changing body bothered him. He assumed the weird
curviness of his dick was a growing pain or something. It would eventually
straighten out, he figured.

Except it hadn't.

And then he saw his first porn, and that made things worse. His parents
were pretty good with the net filters, but this was Northern California,
after all, and Mike was a genius. Ok, so you didn't have to be that smart
to access smut online. Having recently turned twelve, Mike decided to
undergo a scientific experiment and observe some other erections in order
to determine the normalcy of his own. So he'd accessed some online porn,
and the five erections he'd seen had all been straight (and really big).

He hadn't been worried about size, oddly enough, he knew he was still
growing and that penis size varied. It was the curving that bothered
him. He was afraid that his dick had somehow become broken, and he tried to
figure out how that could have happened. Maybe how he stuffed it in his
briefs caused it, or maybe it was a genetic disease of some sort.

Whatever the cause, he'd set about trying to fix it. The most rational
solution, it seemed, had been to 'train' his dick not to curve. So, every
night for three months he developed an erection and then forced it straight
for twenty-minute increments. That had proven a little difficult at first,
but then he'd come up with the idea of holding it firmly against a long
piece of wood from an old block set. It was a little medieval, to be sure,
and it hurt, but Mike felt it necessary, at least until it delivered no
results, at which point he gave up in annoyance and frustration.

And that was about the time that the cocky Patrick had shown off his
annoyingly straight cock in the shower, which had confirmed for Mike that
his penis was broken and sent him into an obsession about it. He was quite
angry about his deformity, and embarrassed, in the way that pre-teens get.

Of course, that wouldn't solve the problem, and so he considered more
drastic solutions. Like cutting it off and reattaching it. Mostly he just
seethed and hated his body and tried not to get erections, because any time
he did he would become flush with negative emotions - annoyance,
frustration, embarrassment.  And when he inevitably did go erect, he'd
taken to forcing it to go away. This made him sad, he'd enjoyed being nude
and erect, even if only alone in his own bathroom, before he'd discovered
his deficiencies. But there was a new reality now, boners were verboten. No
nudity, no erections, just self-loathing and embarrassment and endless
biking and frustration.

If it seems odd that this healthy, smart, active twelve-year old would
obsess about something so insignificant, well, that's how twelve-year olds
are. If this seems humorous, it is, but it should be noted that a fair
number of teenagers end their lives for far less, and Mike's obsession,
although silly, was not entirely healthy.

Fortunately for Mike, about the time his obsession started to become self-
destructive, his life took a different course, which ironically started
with Mike being too obsessed with his problem to notice that he was
literally off course.

As evening set in, he'd looped back towards his house, knowing he would
soon be so cold and wet that biking would not be distracting or fun
anymore. The days were growing longer, but it was still getting dark
early. Mike set about pedaling hard and pushing his bike to its maximum
speed, trying to work off every possible bit of angst before he ended the
ride. The familiar houses of his neighbors passed him by in blurs of yellow
and tan and white.

The boy was thinking about approximately fourteen different things as he
rounded the last turn towards home - his personal problems, the roses that
were starting to bloom in Mrs. Cotesworth-Haye's yard, anchovy pizza, his
math homework, how Mrs. Cotesworth-Haye had a ridiculous sounding name, the
problems in the Middle East, and so on. We must mention that he was not
thinking about opossums, which was unfortunate for several reasons. For
one, it is an amusing distraction to consider the bad hand evolution dealt
opossums, their best defense tactic being to make themselves slobber and
appear so sick that no predator would want to eat them. Secondly, if he
were thinking about opossums he may have noted a millisecond earlier that
one was running directly in his path, which may have prevented what
happened next.

As it were, he noticed the grey streak in the dim March twilight a little
too late, and was quite startled when his brain registered that he was
wheeling full-speed towards one of the creatures, who was scrambling across
the street in the animal's odd ambling manner. Mike quickly calculated that
he could not outrun the creature, and that if he ran over it he would lose
control of the bicycle and crash. So he slammed on the brakes and veered to
his right, which fortunately prevented him from hitting the animal, but did
not stop him from losing control of the bike.

He would not remember what happened later, and even at the time it was a
blur.  He missed the opossum but hit a patch of wet gravel, which caused
the wheels to lose traction and slip on the damp road. Mike panicked, his
left hand clamping down hard on the brakes while his right hand smacked
into the gear shift, throwing the lever between settings and causing the
chains to instantly lock up in a jumble. He also threw his body to his left
as soon as he felt the bike tipping, which kept him upright slightly
longer, but only until the two wheels slammed perpendicular into the
concrete curb, stopping the bike in an instant and sending the boy flying.

It's an odd sensation - suddenly being airborne - and Mike was able to
reflect on this for the tiniest fraction of a second before slamming into
the hard ground of his neighbor's yard. He instantly lost feeling in his
left shoulder, which took the brunt of the impact, and felt a sickening
thunk against his helmet, which caused him to see stars and want to
vomit. And then suddenly the ground was hurting his right knee, and then
his left side again, and Mike realized he was rolling uncontrollably, his
inertia slowing in a brief but painful battle with the laws of physics.

The boy came to a full stop midway up the yard, dazed and slightly confused
about what had just happened. Somehow he was no longer on his bike, which
didn't seem right. Somehow he was sitting in wet grass. And the world was
spinning.

Mike took a moment to collect himself, checking to make sure that each limb
was still attached. They were, although not in peak condition. Nothing felt
broken, but everything hurt. After a few seconds he tried standing up,
which didn't go so well at first. On the third attempt he managed not to
collapse back into the grass. His bike lay in the street about twenty feet
away. He was both annoyed and hurting, but like a typical teen he was also
a little proud about the crash.

At least he was proud until he tried putting weight on his right ankle,
which screamed in pain and made him see stars again. His bike had fared the
crash a little less well. The chains were a complete mess, which may have
mattered if the wheels hadn't been all bent and weird, preventing the front
one from turning. He was now less thrilled by the coolness of the crash -
he'd really liked his bike - and suddenly he was fighting back tears,
partially from the pain and partially from the loss of a favorite boyhood
toy.

He took a deep breath and decided to leave the bike. He set off in the
direction of his house, which was about eighteen blocks away. It took ten
yards before he realized that walking home would be too painful on
foot. Instead he turned into a driveway three houses from the crash
site. It was his best friend Joey Shuler's house, and it was quite a
welcome sight in his condition.

Mike rang the bell, figuring he could ask Mrs. Shuler for a ride home, or
at the very least, maybe she would let Joey walk home with him. It only
took a moment for someone to open the door, and Mike was greeted by the
smiling face of Julie Shuler, Joey's mother.

At least, she was smiling at first, before a completely horrified
expression crossed her face. Mike was confused by this, usually the Shulers
were hospitable, and the motherly housewife normally treated Mike more or
less the same as one of her four sons. Mike briefly considered that he had
broken some protocol in showing up unannounced. Maybe he should have just
walked home.

"Hi Mrs. Shuler," he managed to meekly peep.

"Mike, oh my god! Oh my god, what happened?" Mrs. Shuler asked in a frantic
tone.

The boy shrugged his shoulders. "Bike crash."

It took a moment to realize that his friend's mother was worried about him,
not angry. Mrs. Shuler dropped to her knees and pulled Mike into the
doorway to further inspect him. She first felt his arms and legs,
presumably to check for broken bones. Mike winced in pain as she felt his
left arm. Upon determining that the youth wasn't dying on their doorstep,
Mrs. Shuler stood and took Mike's hand. "Ok, the first thing is we need to
get you cleaned up." They walked passed the carpeted stairway to the second
floor. "JOEY!" Mrs. Shuler bellowed, calling for her youngest son.

She led Mike into the downstairs bathroom. He could hear someone bounding
down the staircase behind them, presumably Joey. This was immediately
verified when the boy answered his mother in the surly tone teens often use
with their parents.

"Jeez mom, I'm doing my homework like you said...FUCK!" Joey ended his
sentence in a loud profanity.

"Joey!" his mother snapped back. Swearing was strictly prohibited in the
house, and under normal circumstances that behavior would be
punishable. This time he got off light due to the circumstances. "Go get my
phone," Mrs. Shuler said in a much calmer manner.

Joey bounded off in compliance, as Mike looked in the large bathroom mirror
and realized what had caused his friend's profanity. He was an utter mess,
the right side of his face was covered in blood, which ran scarlet from a
gash just above his hairline. His arms were scrapped to hell, small pieces
of shrubbery stuck into his skin. Both his shirt and jeans were shredded,
the biggest damage being to his right side. The fabric of the blue jeans
was ripped in a long laceration that almost severed the entire leg of the
pants, and here too Mike was bleeding. He hadn't felt it during the crash,
but the gears of the bike had cut deep into his calf when he was thrown off
the bike.

"Uh, sorry," the boy mumbled, realizing that he was dripping dirty water on
the clean tile of the bathroom floor.

"Whoa," a deep voice stated from behind. Mike looked in the mirror to see
the reflection of Joey's sixteen year-old brother Jack looking into the
bathroom through the doorway. A pang of embarrassment shot through the
boy. Jack was older and cool, and Mike felt very lame to be observed in his
condition.

The rest of the evening was something of a blur. Mrs. Shuler immediately
called Mike's mother, who she located at her office. Mrs. Shuler
simultaneously attempted a more thorough inspection of the boy, removing
his helmet and t- shirt, talking into her headset the entire time to
describe the boy's injuries to Mrs.  Albers. Mrs. Shuler maintained a calm
and composed tone, which, although intended for Mike's mom, was also very
comforting to the injured boy. Mike had a feeling that the other side of
the conversation was less composed.

After rinsing Mike off in the shower, removing the grass and mud and gunk,
it was agreed that the gash in the boy's scalp and leg warranted a visit to
urgent care. This began a whirlwind evening that exhausted the injured
youth - the packing of him into the family car, a drive to the hospital
that had too many bumps, a boring waiting room that smelled sterile and
horrible, being inspected by a doctor whose jokes were less than amusing
("So who won, you or the tree?"  Ugh.), his mother arriving and bringing a
frantic energy into the room, getting stitches in his leg but not his head,
being told he had to stay awake for ten hours with adult supervision, a
drive home, and then a completely dull night of board games with his
parents where he was not allowed to sleep.

As soon as he was allowed, around eight the next morning, Mike slipped into
unconsciousness for the first time in twenty-four hours. His mother woke
him up once around five pm to check on the boy, and Mike had greedily
gulped a large container of Gatorade. He moved from the living room couch
to his bed and immediately fell asleep again, waking the next morning
bruised and sore as hell, but as is the way with teenage boys, otherwise
unscathed and ready to face the world.

Mike spent the next week sore, but there were some perks. For one, Joey was
allowed to spend two nights the weekend after the crash, which was unusual
during the school year. And Mike was treated as something of a war veteran
when he returned to school, earning even the admiration of Patrick Retsen.
Everyone demanded a viewing of the deep blue and yellow bruising that
covered Mike's torso, and although a little shy about it, the boy would
lift his shirt up upon request, which was usually met with gasps and
accolades.

A week after the crash a brand new bike had shown up in the Albers garage,
one that was considerably cooler and more expensive than the wrecked model
(which Mike would keep for another three years despite its uselessness,
demanding it never be junked). He had to swear many, many times that he
would be more careful in the future, and was told the new bike was
partially a reward for wearing his helmet, which the doctor had said
prevented the accident from being substantially worse.

But the best part came to Mike's attention a week and half after the crash,
on a sunny Wednesday afternoon. Joey had gone home after school, then
shortly thereafter shown up on Mike's doorstep, noticeably excited about
something.

"Hey Mik-EE, Mikey, Mikey, Mikey" the youth had jabbered, as was his
custom.  Usually this would be accompanied by a firm punch to the shoulder,
but Joey had been courteous enough to stop a few inches short of physical
contact with his bruised friend.

Joey was considerably more lighthearted than Mike. The boys shared similar
European features - the same long, straight noses and slender frames. Joey
was a little darker than Mike, owing largely to his tendency to run around
shirtless whenever the sun was shining. The two slender youths could be
mistaken for brothers and occasionally had been. However, their difference
in demeanor, Joey always playful and Mike always thoughtful, made Joey seem
either more youthful or a little stupider than Mike, something Mike tried
not to think about since comparing your friend to a dumb puppy dog didn't
seem overly nice.

Joey jumped around the Albers' living room, which really didn't help with
the puppy allusion in Mike's head. He laughed at his friend's exuberance,
which was running high even for Joey.

"Guess what?" Joey asked, still fidgeting.

 "I don't know, what?" he responded, pretty sure that wasn't going to
work. Mike hated this game, and although he knew Joey would always demand
it go a couple of rounds, he always tried to cut it short.

"Aww, c'mon, you have to guess," Joey whined.

Mike chuckled, which was still slightly painful in his ribs. His response
was a typical answer for the youth, " I don't know - the sun has finally
decided to implode and the Air Force has given you command of the San
Francisco fleet?"

It was a somewhat serious answer given the state of the world, but then
again not really. Joey rolled his eyes at Mike.

"You're such a fucking dorkwad," he retorted. Swearing was prohibited in
the Shuler household, which resulted in a case of potty-mouth that ran
rampant amongst the Shuler boys whenever they weren't at home. "Anyway, you
know how we always go up to the beach house for spring break?"

Mike did know. The Shulers had a private beach house near Half Moon Bay,
and it was a mandatory trip for the Shuler kids every year. Unfortunately,
company was strictly prohibited, so Joey spent every spring break at the
beach and Mike spent every spring break bored at home.

"Yeah," Mike answered. He was hoping the trip was cancelled, which would
give him some company during the two week vacation.

Joey put on an impossibly wide grin. "Well, this year you're coming with
us!" he giggled.

It took a moment for Joey's statement to register. "What?" Mike asked,
confused by the revelation.

Joey started hopping up and down in earnest. "Yeah, I know. Like I guess
that night you were in the hospital and all," Joey crossed his eyes and
twirled his forefingers around each ear to signify Mike's condition that
night, "well, I guess my mom was talking to your mom, and because Jared and
Jon are off at college and it'll just be the four of us, they wanted you to
come."

Joey's two oldest brothers were away at school, leaving only Joey and Jack
still at home. That did free up a lot of space in the three bedroom
vacation home, and Mike had indeed been invited.

What neither youth knew was that on the night of the accident Mike's mother
had confided in the Shulers that Mike had been a little off lately, distant
and weirder than normal. The adults feared that there was something more
behind the crash, although as is the way with adults when trying to
understand twelve-year olds, they had no idea what the real issue was nor
did they think to ask Mike about it.  So the parents had determined that
adding Mike to the vacation might help.

He would have been distressed to know there were patronizing roots to the
invitation, but since both boys were ignorant of this fact they were both
quite excited about the trip, and Mike joined Joey in hopping around the
living room, which turned into them running around the house, which turned
into the normal pandemonium that follows teenage boys wherever they
go. Once Mrs. Albers heard the commotion, she left the kitchen to see what
the noise was about, and when she saw that the kids were responding to the
trip she smiled rather than scold them. It was good to see her son laughing
and playing and not displaying the worried expression he lately constantly
wore.

There was an unfortunate disturbance in time/space the following week, or
so it seemed to Mike. He calculated 259 hours from the time he was told
about the trip to departure, but he was quite sure in the end it took
approximately 597 hours for spring break to actually arrive. According to
the several clocks around the house, this was not the case, but Mike felt
that you couldn't really trust clocks during a disturbance in the
time/space field anyway. Eventually the big day did arrive, and amidst much
fanfare (if Mike's parents waiving good-bye from the driveway qualifies as
fanfare), the Shulers headed to the beach home with their plus-one in the
back seat.

The first couple of days were a blur, but the good kind, the 'we're having
too much fun' kind, not the 'I was in a massive bicycle accident' kind of
blur.

Joey and Mike had claimed the attic bedroom at the beach house, a
controversy that had garnered quite the contrarian opinion by Jack, Joey's
16-year old brother, who felt he should be given the more private
quarters. He claimed he had been waiting his entire life for his brothers
to be away from home and off at college, opening the room for his
use. Apparently, being denied this all-important honor was going to ruin
the trip, the year, and his entire childhood, a fact all were ignorant of
until Jack proclaimed it loudly to the household. He threw a rather
childish fit for someone licensed to drive, and the sight of someone more
than four years older than Mike acting out made Mike quite
uncomfortable. But then Mr. Shuler had stepped in and brokered a deal. Jack
would be given the master suite for the duration of their stay, which had a
private bathroom, its own balcony and a 50-inch television. The other
brothers had never, ever been offered the master suite, so this proved more
than acceptable to the teen and peace once again descended on the
household.

The boys were more or less given free reign on how they spent their days,
and they spent them well. Mornings were for patrolling the beaches,
exploring the rocky tidal pools and chasing the various seabirds that lived
along the coast. The beach house was located about seventy miles north of
Monterey Bay, so the area was teeming with life, and as a young scientist
Mike found everything fascinating.

Afternoons were spent exploring the national parks, running up and down the
trails expending the kind of energy that only 12-year old boys have on
tap. Mike and Joey had taken on several of the harder hiking trails, coming
home at night with tales of mutant slug monsters (it should be noted that
banana slugs are neither mutants nor monsters) and weird alien
landscapes. Mr. Shuler had insisted on accompanying the boys the following
day - he was intrigued by their tales of a hiking trail to an abandoned
airfield. The boys had failed to mention that the hike, although only nine
miles, involved a change in elevation of several thousand feet. Mr. Shuler,
to his credit, completed the hike, but it was the last time he tagged along
for an adventure with the kids.

The third day Joey took Mike to one of the coolest places of all. It was
the evacuation shelter for the area, one that served San Francisco and the
outlying areas, and although the underground areas were closed off, the
entrance lobby was open to the public. Four years later, Joey would be
evacuating from this very location, although it would be considerably more
crowded at the time. Mike, on the other hand, would leave from a moderately
smaller facility near his college.  Today, however, the large
mausoleum-like room was empty except for the occasional tourist, and the
boys marveled at the murals and stained glass features in the huge
space. Quickly boring of this, they discovered if they removed their shoes
their sock-clad feet slid against the polished marble floor like it was
ice. This resulted in an extended game of make-believe ice soccer. In
retrospect, hockey would have made more sense.

On day six disaster struck. Well, a minor catastrophe, but disaster
nonetheless.

The guys had been rough-housing in their room before bed, bouncing around,
wrestling, being boys. Unfortunately, during a rather daring leap by Joey,
who sought to upset a line of toy bowling ball pins, which in this case
represented the Special Ops forces under Mike's command, he misjudged the
distance and rammed into the nightstand, which sent an open container of
milk tumbling onto the bed and spilling everywhere.

The guys had tried to covertly clean up their mess, but sadly the toy pins
could not offer any real-world advice to the kids. Otherwise they might
have told them that when rowdy preteens go quiet and are then seen
smuggling two rolls of paper towels to their rooms, it inevitably draws the
attention of any adult in the area.

"Oh, you guys," Mrs. Shuler sighed as she pulled the sheets off the bed. It
was well past eleven, and she was clearly not in the mood to do laundry. "I
have no idea how you managed to spill half a quart of milk in your bed."

"One might say we managed to save a half quart of milk," Joey proffered,
which garnered a glare and raised eyebrow that seemed to indicate this was
a comment that may have resulted in a scolding had Mike not been there.

Mrs. Shuler took the soiled linens to the laundry room, returning shortly
with a set of purple silk sheets. "This is all that's clean, so it will
have to do tonight.  Tomorrow you can do all the laundry downstairs,
please."

Joey huffed a little at the assigned chore, but didn't say anything. Most
boys inherently know not to push their mothers so soon after making a big
mess, and instead of offering up any attitude he wisely promised to
complete the task first thing the following morning, and even went so far
as to promise immediate bedtime for him and his friend.

The two boys climbed into the queen-sized bed, as promised, although they
did quietly chatter back and forth, which only seemed fair since the
bargain struck with Mrs. Shuler had been to go to bed, not necessarily to
go to sleep.

They talked about the things young friends talk about late at
night. Skateboards and bikes, video games and music, mutant banana
slugs. Hours passed and the teens failed to tire, as teens often do,
although the conversation slowed to a flow of hushed whispers that were
punctuated by long bouts of silence. It was typical for Mike and Joey, the
silence between comments growing longer and longer until they drifted off
to sleep.

"These sheets are weird," Joey commented. Mike could hear a slight rustle
from Joey's side of the bed, his friend obviously feeling the material of
the replacement bedding.

The sheets were, in fact, weird. The silk was smooth and cool against the
skin of Mike's arms and legs. The bedding was quite unlike the cotton
sheets they'd had before the milk incident.

"Yeah, it's really slippery," Mike replied, also running his arms over the
smooth material. He'd never had silk sheets or clothes before, although
he'd sometimes seen boxer shorts at the mall and wondered how the material
would compare to his cotton underwear. He brought this up to Joey.

"Yeah, I bet silk would be all slick against your skin, maybe almost like
being naked," Joey mused. The word naked struck a chord with Mike, as it
could with teenagers, and made him feel a little funny in his tummy. "I
mean, do you ever sleep naked?" Joey asked.

"Uh, not really," Mike responded. This wasn't altogether true. Before
learning that he was defective, Mike had on occasion stripped down in his
bed to enjoy the sensation of being nude before falling asleep. Since this
resulted in an erection, and since erections were now completely forbidden,
he wasn't apt to disrobe after-hours anymore.

"Oh," Joey replied, "well, these sheets are cool. I'm going to take my
shirt off to see how they feel."

There was an even greater rustling from the other side of the bed as Joey
sat up and shucked his t-shirt before lying back down. Mike could hear his
friend moving around under the sheets, which sent another funny feeling
down his spine and deep into his tummy.

"Wow. This is so awesome. It's like smooth and slick and weird feeling,"
Joey said, describing the sensation of the sheets against his skin. "Hey,
take your shirt off, this is really cool!"

Mike longed to do just that. The fabric felt great against his forearms,
and he was certain that it would be even better against his stomach and
chest, but there was something awkward and weird about stripping down next
to his best friend for a tactile experiment like this.

"Uh, that's ok."

There was no question that Joey was the alpha between the two. He was a
year older, and his personality was more exuberant and boisterous than
Mike's, although it has to be said that this exuberance definitely rubbed
off on the other teen, who was generally happier, more hyper and far less
sullen when around Joey. As such, Joey would often push the boundaries a
little, with or without Mike's consent. This turned out to be one of those
times.

"Well, I want to try this naked. Then I can see what silk undies are
like. Hold on," the older boy stated. He shifted around, and although he'd
said he was going to disrobe, Mike had a hard time believing he would
actually get nude in the same bed with his friend. The very thought of it
sent another surge of weirdness through Mike's body.

"Ohh, cool," Joey cooed, "This is awesome. It's like being naked, but also
the sheets are like soft ice." Apparently the teen had been quite serious
about shedding his pjs in the bed, which was short-circuiting Mike's brain
with the mixed emotions of being simultaneously excited and
uncomfortable. "Hey, let's try mummy-scratches."

Mummy scratches was a game they'd invented a couple of years earlier, and
one they hadn't played for some time. Basically, it was a sleepover game
that involved rolling yourself up in the sheets and then letting the other
boy scratch your back. It wasn't clear why back-scratching required rolling
up in a sheet, nor why the occult element of Egyptian zombies was
incorporated, but that's the way the game had evolved for the two.

"Uh..." Mike started, but Joey cut him off.

"Oh come one, it'll be cool. Mummy-scratches was made for silk sheets."
Joey began shifting around, and suddenly Mike's portion of the blankets was
pulled off him as the other boy rolled himself up enchilada-style.

Joey seemed quite relaxed, but for Mike there was an unbearable tension in
the room. The adrenaline that had begun coursing through his body was
making his hands shake a little, and the thought of his best friend nude
except for a sheer sheet, a best friend who was expecting Mike to touch him
and scratch his back, was making things worse.

"Ok, get to it," Joey said once he was in position, his voice muffled by
the bedding. The game was extremely simple - now that Joey was lying
face-down on the bed, Mike was supposed to give him a good back
scratch. And although he felt weird about it, this variation wasn't all
that different from the game they'd played the year prior, so Mike scooted
over to Joey, who had covered himself head-to-toe in the purple silk sheet
so that he looked like some bizarre lavender insect cocoon.

But the room was completely dark, so Mike couldn't really see much more
than a dark lump where his friend lay. Reaching out into the inky dimness
of the room, his fingers came into contact with his friend's silk-covered
shoulder blade. Mike relaxed a little. Sure Joey was nude under the sheet,
but this wasn't so much unlike their previous back scratching.

Mike proceeded to give Joey the same style back scratch he had a dozen
times before. The difference this time, however, was that the sheer fabric
of the sheet gave Mike a completely different tactile experience. The boys
were usually wrapped in a cotton sheet over their pjs, so the scratching
occurred through several layers of thick fabric. With the silk and no
pajamas, however, Mike could feel every detail of Joey's body, down to the
heat he was radiating.

Mike scratched at Joey's back with his left hand, feeling his friend's skin
and bones and the young muscles that had just begun putting on the bulk of
manhood. He completed his routine, which was about ten minutes of
scratching.  This usually indicated a shift in turns, and as Mike stopped
Joey shifted around.  He didn't climb out of the sheet, however, and had
just rolled over.

"Here," he said, "now do the front."

The request was odd for several reasons. First, they'd never
mummy-scratched fronts before, and secondly Joey was naked under the sheet.

"I don't know, Joey, wouldn't that feel kinda weird?" Mike stammered.

"Please," the other boy asked, a slight tone of pleading in his voice, "I
want to see how it feels."

Now the adrenaline and teen awkwardness was giving Mike full-on shakes. He
wanted to say no, but then again he also wanted to feel what his friend
felt like under the sheet. Mike slowly reached out until his hand grazed
Joey's chest.

Where Joey's back had been covered with two layers of the silk, his front
was only encased in a single sheer layer, and when Mike put his hand
against Joey he could feel the details of his friend's skin, the strong
teenage heart beating in his chest and even the pert nipple that was
pressing erect against the fabric.  Joey sighed at the contact.

"Oh my god, that's so cool. Feel me all over," Joey said.

Mike obeyed his friend, giving his front more of an exploratory feel than a
scratching. He ran his fingers along his chest, feeling the symmetry of
Joey's developing body, and then up to his face, which was also covered by
the silk.  Mike felt along Joey's nose, which made the other boy snort and
giggle a little, apparently tickling the youth. Mike ran a finger along his
friend's eyebrow, marveling at how clearly he could feel the hairs through
the sheet.

Mike was unbearably nervous, but also at ease because he and Joey were such
good friends. Still, this exploration was far more intimate than anything
he'd ever done before, and as such it felt ten times as forbidden and
exciting.

Mike moved lower, feeling Joey's thin arms and then his tummy. He'd seen
him naked before, of course, but it wasn't until he was running his hand
over Joey's abdomen that he noticed how the muscles there had moved well
along the path the adulthood, and instead of the smooth kid tummy the boy
had sported a year before there was the beginnings of a six pack, one that
would fully form over the next two years.

Once Mike had moved down Joey's body enough to feel his friend's navel,
Mike could tell that the sheet was pulling away from Joey's torso, and that
made it clear that the teen had a boner. A feeling of awkwardness returned
and he abruptly stopped the exploratory massage.

"Pretty cool," Mike said, vague on whether he was referring to the sheets
or the experience. There was a noticeable shaking in his voice.

"Yeah," Joey sighed. "Ok, your turn."

"No, uh, that's ok, I'm kinda sleepy," Mike lamely replied, although he
really wanted to see what the sheet felt like against his naked skin, not
to mention what his friend's hands felt like through the sheet.

"No way," Joey insisted, "fair's fair. You did me, now I'm doing you. Get
undressed."

It was more of an order than a request, followed immediately by Joey
unrolling himself from the sheet and tossing it over Mike's head. Again,
the youth didn't feel like arguing with his more dominant friend, so he
slowly pulled his shirt over his head and removed it. The sheet billowed,
then slowly settled on his frame.  Mike gasped a little. The fabric did
indeed feel awesome against his naked shoulders.

He scuttled out of his bottoms, momentarily considering leaving his undies
on.  However, Joey had been naked, so Mike was pretty sure his friend would
insist on him being the same. Also, he was getting past his nerves a little
and into the game. Mike rolled up in the sheet and went to lie facedown,
but Joey tugged him over.

"Here, front first. It feels cooler."

Mike rolled onto his back, and was suddenly very aware of being naked
except for the sheer layer of fabric. His nerves returned and he started
shaking quite uncontrollably.

Joey clearly noticed. "Hey, dude, what's the matter? It's ok if you want to
go to sleep."

"No-o-o, that's-s-s ok-k-k," Joey started, startled that he was now so
nervous that his words were coming out ragged and stuttering. For some
reason this suddenly seemed immensely hilarious and he let out a nervous
giggle. "I don't-t-t know what's-s-s wrong with me-e-e. This-s-s is
just-t-t a little weird-d-d, I guess-s-s."

This seemed to really concern Joey, who despite being a little bossy was
always concerned about his friend's well-being.

"It's no big deal. Here, just lie back and relax."

Mike did, and tried to stop shaking when he breathed. Suddenly, he felt
Joey's hand on his chest, and there was a jolt of sensations running
through his body that seemed to demand that he ignore the shaking and
nerves. The boy relaxed a little.

Joey ran both hands over Mike, seemingly very intent on putting his nervous
friend at ease. He ran his hands over Mike's face and head, and then down
his chest to his stomach, which was still shaking with each heartbeat.

"Wow, shakey," Joey said, pointing out how Mike's body was vibrating with
each breath.

"Sorry-y-y," Mike whispered.

"It's ok," Joey said in a comforting manner. He pressed his right hand
against Mike's tummy, possibly trying to calm the muscles that were stuck
in nervous flutter. It worked a little, but Mike could feel the shakiness
lingering right behind his sternum, ready to return at the slightest
impetus.

Joey moved his hands down to Mike's knees, feeling the knobbiness of the
bone there through the sheet. Mike thought Joey was going to feel down his
legs like Mike had done to Joey only moments before, but instead the
youth's hands moved upward onto Mike's thighs. Mike had a boner, of course
- he'd had one since the naked game had begun, but he was now more
conscientious of it that ever before, his best friend's hand mere inches
away from him manhood. Mike tensed under the lavender sheet.

Joey sensed his friend's stress, and whispered back to him, "Calm down,
it's ok."

Later Mike would reflect that Joey had wanted things to progress in this
direction from the very beginning, and in all honesty this was a-ok with
Mike, but at this moment, lying nude under a single layer of sheer fabric
in the darkened silence of the attic bedroom, things felt as if they were
spontaneously evolving into an unexpected direction, a direction that was
fulfilled when Joey's forefinger very, very lightly brushed Mike's scrotum
through the sheet.

The feeling was electric and instant, a newfound sensation that was
somewhere between bizarre and wonderful. Mike felt his body come alive at
its very core as pleasure shot up his spine and into the deepest recesses
of his brain. He involuntarily gasped at the touch.

Having come this far, Joey apparently decided to go all-in. He allowed his
finger to move upwards, running it along Mike's rigid shaft. For his part,
Mike responded with a second gasp and a squirm. He was just barely able to
process the sensation of someone touching his young balls, and this was
about ten times as intense.

Joey's finger traced the outline of the shaft through the sheet, stopping
short of the tip. "Is this ok?" his friend asked.

How to answer that? Mike was in the unique position of being felt up for
the first time. It was as if his body had just discovered a use for 90% of
his genetic coding, and it all had to do with getting his boner rubbed by
someone else. He wanted Joey's hand where it was, and he wanted it to stay
there forever, but he was also suddenly very conscious of his deformity.

"It's-s-s ok," Mike replied, his shaking slightly more under control, "It's
just that, and you have to promise never to tell..."

"Yeah?"

"I'm kinda broken. You know, down there."

Although it was a short phrase of relatively innocuous words, this was a
tremendous moment in Mike's life. He was admitting the darkest of his
secrets to his best friend, a secret that made him feel worthless and
endlessly embarrassed. He was almost certain that once he explained things
he and Joey would no longer be friends. Or even worse, Joey would tell
everyone in the world and then he'd have no friends at all. It was an odd
concern, but as we've said, teenage boys can be big into melodrama.

Joey snorted, grasping Mike's shaft in his hand. "It doesn't feel all that
broken to me."

And it was this comment that send Mike to babbling. He babbled about how he
was curved, and how his penis was weird. He admitted to trying to fix it,
and although he left out some of the gorier details, he confessed mostly
everything to Joey in one frantic lump of whispers and stress.

Joey listened patiently, as good friends will, and then told Mike there was
nothing wrong with him, laughing a little as he responded. "You do know
they come in all shapes and sizes, right?"

"Well, yeah," Mike replied, "but they're not supposed to curve like this."

"You're kind of weird," Joey said, which was oddly comforting. "There's no
'supposed to' for dicks. As long as they work, they work. Here, let me
see."

And with that, Joey ran his hands along the full length of Mike's erect
(and curved) penis. Mike inhaled sharply at the sensation. Sure, Joey was
just checking him out, but it was still an unexpected and erotic sensation.

After grabbing it in his fist, Joey said, "See, just what I thought. It's
not all that curvey. Not the most curved I've seen in movies, anyway. And
besides, mine curves like that too. Here, see."

Joey took Mike's hand in his and moved it over to his crotch, which he'd
covered with the edge of the silk sheet. Mike's hand came into contact with
Joey's hard member beneath the sheet and instinctively grabbed on. Joey was
telling the truth. His penis felt slightly larger than Mike's, and it
extended from his body in an upward curve, not quite as dramatic, but still
curved.

Mike suddenly realized that he'd been very stupid, and he flushed a little
with embarrassment. "Yeah," he said, in acknowledgement of his friend's
curviness.

"The important thing," Joey said, "Is that it works. It works, right?"

"Huh?" Mike asked, suddenly concerned that he might be broken in some other
way.

"Here, let's see," Joey said, pulling the sheet off Mike's body and
exposing his nudity to the room. The older boy wrapped his hand around
Mike's now fully exposed boner and began stroking up and down. Under normal
circumstances Mike would have dove for cover, but the immense explosion of
enjoyment the coursed through him froze the boy into place.

"Oh-oh-oh," the younger boy gasped, "What are you doing?!" Waves of a
newfound type of pleasure swept over the boy as his friend introduced him
to the back and forth motion that a billion years of evolution had
programmed his brain to enjoy.

"Wanking you off," Joey said matter-of-factly. "You don't do this?"

"No," Mike replied, gasping and squirming. "I...oh....get
naked...ugh....sometimes, but...oh..."

Joey chuckled at his friend's inability to form a coherent sentence. He'd
been jerking off for over a year, and knew the pleasure Mike was
discovering. "This is wanking off," he explained as his friend writhed
under his hands, "you have to do it all the time after you get pubes or
else you go crazy. It feels really good."

"Yeah...ugh...no kidding...ah..." Mike spluttered in response.

Joey wasn't giving the best handjob in the history of the world, but it was
Mike's first and it fulfilled its purpose quickly and efficiently. After
only a minute or two of stroking, Mike felt an odd pressure building in
between his legs and was suddenly acutely aware that he was about to piss
all over his best friend.

"Joey, stop, I gotta pee," Mike stated urgently.

Joey didn't stop, but rather chuckled at his friend's ignorance. "Nah,
you're just about to cum. This is the best part."

Mike wanted to hop up and run to the bathroom, but the pleasure was holding
him firmly in place. His legs convulsed and the youth was sure that he was
about to release a torrent of urine all over the bed, something that would
make the milk accident look mild in comparison. But at the same time, it
wasn't quite the same as needing to pee, and as Mike pondered this he lost
the battle, his muscle involuntarily contracting to fulfill it's primary
duty.

"Arg, jeez, what the fuck...ERGHHHH!" Mike exclaimed as his first manually-
induced orgasm gripped him. His entire body tensed, his eyes rolling up
into his head as stars appeared in his field of vision. Wave after wave of
pleasure moved through his frame as his body convulsed again and again. A
small blob of thick clear fluid oozed out the end of his penis. Mike was
advanced enough to know what this was, but he'd never really stopped to
consider the immensity of the sensations the whole reproductive cycle
inflicted. No wonder there's such a fuss, he thought to himself as his
orgasm subsided.

Joey had pushed events in this direction as a result of his own adolescent
horniness, and the sight of his best friend experiencing an orgasm, the
grunts and 'ohs!' coming from Mike were too much for the thirteen
year-old. The nude games had pushed his body to the limit and he needed
immediate release.

The boy hopped up on his knees, kneeling at the edge of the bed, and
frantically began pounding at his boner. Mike watched in fascination as his
more experienced friend brought himself off as quickly as he possibly
could. It didn't take long, nor did it take too many strokes before Joey
was gasping just like Mike had been seconds before. "Ah, ah, ah, AHHH!" he
grunted as he came. Mike watched as several thick ropes of cum erupted out
the end of Joey's dick. His friend was obviously a little further along in
puberty, Mike though before giggling inwardly at the way he nerdishly
observed the world.

Once both boys had cum there was a general feeling that they needed to
retreat beneath the sheets, not so much out of embarrassment or
awkwardness, but more so that they weren't overheard by the other Shulers
downstairs. Both boys were now very conscientious about being caught, and
although Mike wanted to repeat the boner rubbing and was still filled with
youthful sexual energy, the boys stuck with whispers about sex and jerking
off and things that young friends talk about after their first mutual
masturbation. Joey was quite open about his own experiences, and although
neither of them fully realized it yet, this was a night that cemented their
friendship firmly into place, and also a night that put the bulk of Mike's
irrational anxieties behind him.

Once they'd told every tale they wanted to tell, and once there was no more
to say that was worth keeping increasingly droopy eyes open, the two boys
finally fell to sleep.

The following morning, after a breakfast of banana pecan waffles and bacon,
Mr.  and Mrs. Shuler announced that they would be attending an opera up in
the city and staying overnight in a hotel, and that Jack would be in charge
for the next twenty-four hours. This had immediate tremendous impact on the
boys since all teens desire being left overnight alone for some
reason. Well, Mike and Joey's reasons were probably pretty obvious. Both
kids were massively horned and ready to try some more bedtime play.

Mrs. Shuler misinterpreted the youths' hyperactivity as general
mischievousness, and laid out a LONG list of rules and regulations that
were to be strictly followed, including that everyone was confined to the
beach house once the adults left.  Once the list had been gone through
three or four times, and once both Jack and Joey had sworn themselves to
good behavior, the Shulers left an ample pile of pizza money on the kitchen
counter and took off for the city.

When Mike had first met Joey, there were occasions when Jack would allow
the two to hang out with him. Over the past year, however, the 16 year-old
hadn't been that accepting of the younger teens' presence. Mike thought
this was too bad, particularly since Jack was older, cooler and had his own
car. Mike never stopped to consider that these were the exact reasons the
older teen didn't want the two younger kids around.

The two were therefore quite surprised when Jack suggested they spend the
afternoon in his room playing video games. They were even more surprised
when, after their twentieth or so round of a favorite multi-player
war-game, Jack crossed the room and opened a backpack to produce a rather
large bottle of brownish liquid.

"Well," the cool older boy stated, "if I'm gonna be stuck at home all
night, I'm gonna get buzzed."

With that, he took a deep swig of the contents, wincing a little as he
drank. He crossed back to the couch and passed the bottle to Joey,
collapsing between the boys. It's not often that a thirteen year old has
access to liquor without having to sneak it or work for it, and Joey wasn't
about to refuse the invitation. He took a drink from the bottle, coughing
considerably as he passed it across Jack's chest to Mike.

Mike, wanting to impress the older kid, tried taking as deep a drink as
Jack had, but not being prepared for drinking what tasted like liquid fire,
he involuntarily gave a great cough, sending a torrent of the unpleasant
liquid into his nose, which made him choke and sputter all the more.

"Whoa, buddy, careful there," Jack said. Mike turned red, both from the
choking and embarrassment.

Once Mike had successfully fought off imminent death, they boys resumed
their game. Jack would take gulps from the bottle now and then before
passing it along. For the most part Mike and Joey both abstained, although
Mike took the occasional sip. Frankly, it tasted awful, but it felt cool
and Mike liked the tingling sensation the liquor was causing in his toes.

After another couple of bloody gun battles, Jack announced that he was hot
from the bourbon and stood up to shuck his hoodie and sweatpants,
collapsing back on the couch in a grey tank and black boxer briefs before
taking another swig.

Mike idolized Jack, as twelve year-olds often will. Jack was older, more
mature.  He was on the track and swim team and had his own car. And perhaps
most notable, he was well on his way to manhood, having put on many pounds
of muscle over the past year. He'd also taken to leaving his face unshaven,
and the scruffiness made him seem even cooler. Mike considered this as he
stared at the older kid, now in his underwear. Suddenly he noticed that
Joey was also staring, and the two younger boys' eyes met. The two broke
into giggles, largely fueled by all the weird energy over the past day and
the alcohol.

"What are you two laughing about?" Jack asked, not prying his attention
away from the game.

"Jerking off," Joey responded. It wasn't a totally accurate response, but
it seemed like the funniest joke in the world at the time, and the two boys
fell into uncontrollable fits of laughter.

"God, you two are SO weird," Jack replied in response to the laughing
teens.  Mike did, in fact, feel a little weird. The world had become a
little blurry, and considerably more relaxed. This made the preteen laugh a
little harder.

The two eventually calmed down enough to return to the game, not that it
mattered. Jack seemed capable of hunting them down and shooting them
regardless of their strategy. Mike's fingers felt a little mushy, and he
wondered if that was contributing to his losing streak. After losing to
Jack twice more he decided to try hiding in an old plane wreck at the edge
of a reef.

"Dammit, why'd you have to mention jerking off?" Jack spontaneously asked
after another twenty minutes of gaming. "Now I'm all ancy."

Mike looked away from the screen at Jack, and could immediately tell what
the older boy was talking about. The already significant lump in his shorts
had become noticeably larger and begun to tent. Jack didn't seem overly
concerned about his erection, or about pointing it out, and took another
drink from his bottle.  Joey passed, but Mike tried to gulp down a decent
swallow of the terrible liquid, this time still coughing but not choking.

The plane strategy turned out to be a bust - Jack always managed to locate
a rocket propelled grenade launcher that turned the downed craft into an
aluminum coffin for Mike's character. Joey didn't fare much better.

As the trio played on, Mike occasionally snuck a glance at Jack's lap,
which had continued to tent until the older teenager was fully erect.

"Well, I can't help it," Jack suddenly stated. Mike looked up to see that
the older boy had caught him looking.

"Sorry," Mike mumbled, turning red yet again.

Jack chuckled, "No problem. Kinda hard to hide. Yours is too."

Mike looked down and saw that he was indeed noticeably aroused. Later he
would learn that having an upward curving dick had its advantages - many
times throughout his teenage years he would resort to hooking an unwanted
erection into the waistband of his undies so as to hide his aroused
state. But he had yet to learn that trick, and his boner was pressing into
his cotton shorts with wild abandon. Jack and Mike looked each other in the
eye, an instant camaraderie forming, born of mutual arousal and slight
drunkenness.  At least that's why Mike assumed everything was a little
blurry and quite hilarious.

The boys moved to another battlefield, a decayed urban wasteland in a
snowstorm, and Jack set about beating their asses yet again. The older teen
had moved his hands and the controller into his lap, and while Mike mostly
watched the screen he could see Jack pushing his boner around through his
shorts from time to time. Occasionally when he was under fire and the
controller began to buzz Jack would press it into his briefs, presumably
enjoying the sensation.

Mike looked over to Joey to see that his friend was also clearly aroused,
his dick neatly tenting his green athletic shorts. The two friends smiled
at each other, the events of the previous night making things seem
considerably more relaxed than they might have otherwise been.

The boys played on, each now shifting their bodies a little more often and
adjusting themselves a little more frequently. Nothing much was said about
the sexual energy in the room, but it was there and palpable. Jack's
character eventually located Mike's and let loose with an AK-47, sending
Mike's controller into a bout of frantic buzzing. Mike took the opportunity
to press the controller into his lap, the game vibrations spreading
throughout his crotch. It felt weird, but also kind of good. Jack looked
over at Mike and chuckled.

Mike had little hope of winning the next round, now having to contend with
Jack's superior playing skills, his own arousal, slight drunkenness, and
his thoughts about Joey's older brother. Jack was much further along in
puberty than either Mike or Joey, and Mike could not help but notice all
the little differences between Jack's body and his own.

While Mike was pretty much hairless all over, Jack had a fine black dusting
of hair on his forearms and legs, which made sense considering that the
teenager had facial hair. But when Jack stretched, reaching his arms up
over his head after killing Joey's avatar, his tank rose up over his navel,
revealing a pale stretch of skin along his lower abdomen, which featured a
trail of black hair leading into his shorts. Mike felt an odd surge of
energy in his own pants when he noticed this.

"Ok, now you guys have to concentrate for reals, 'cause creaming you is
getting kind of boring," Jack announced at the beginning of the next
round. Mike and Joey quickly discussed a strategy they assumed might turn
things in their favor.

The new tactics worked for a while, allowing the younger boys to evade the
relentless Jack longer than they ever had before. Mike was trying to locate
his weapon of choice in order to go after Jack when his concentration was
broken.

"Whoops," Jack spoke up, slightly slurring his words, "would you look at
that?"

Mike glanced over and was quite shocked to see that the older boy had
managed to manipulate his boxer briefs so that his aroused cock was now
sticking out of the fly, and even though it was still partially covered in
fabric it looked huge, particularly to Mike and Joey, who hadn't come
anywhere near their maximum length yet.

Jack chuckled and continued the game, somehow managing to hunt down Joey
while simultaneously using his wrists to play with himself. Mike considered
that Jack must have practiced gaming and masturbation together before,
although thinking about this led to a rather gruesome death for Mike's
character.

Joey fared much better, ending up in a game of cat and mouse that lasted
for some time. Mike, now out of the game, decided that if the alcohol gave
Jack license to be bold it did him as well, so while the brothers dueled it
out on screen Mike manipulated his shorts so as to allow his now throbbing
boner freedom in the afternoon air. Jack looked over briefly and smiled,
causing Mike to flush at the older kid's approval. He'd never have done it
if he hadn't been a little drunk, but as is often the case with alcohol, a
freed boner felt like the best idea in the world.

Eventually, sadly for Joey, his character died yet again. Coming out of his
game concentration, he noted that now his best friend had his erection
out. Jack cued up another round of onscreen bloodshed, and while that
loaded Joey took the opportunity to slide off his shorts and underwear, his
boner popping out proudly.

"Nice," Jack commented as Joey's erection plopped audibly against his
tummy.  "Bourbon always gives me the horns," he explained, taking the
opportunity to pull his full erection and balls out of the fly on his
shorts. Mike was wide-eyed as his friend presented his full manhood. Jack's
cock was well on its way to adulthood, and pointed upward at a 45 degree
angle. Like his brother's, it was slightly curved. Mike felt mostly better
about his curved dick after the previous night's events, but seeing this
boy he idolized, this older cool kid, with a curved dick immediately and
forever eliminated his feeling bad about his shape.

The trio began another round of the game, one that would have seemed quite
humorous to an onlooker, as well as considerably erotic. The three boys
were all exposed now, and while they were trying to concentrate on the game
in order to beat the others, their primary focus was on simultaneously
massaging their dicks.

Jack was the best at this. He could somehow hold the controller and
manipulate all eighteen or so buttons while slipping a finger or two down
along his shaft.  Mike, who hadn't yet truly learned to masturbate even
without the controller, was moderately clumsy at his attempts, but it still
felt good to feel himself as he tried to play the game. Joey had tried a
third strategy, resting the controller on the base of his shaft so that his
dick remained within reach of his thumbs.

It soon became evident that playing the game was completely secondary to
getting off, and all three avatars spent most of their time wandering in
useless circles as the three boys focused on touching themselves.

"Dude, I am soooo freaking boned," Jack stated as he played with
himself. Since neither Jack nor Joey seemed prone to shooting Mike's
character, the boy broke eye contact with the screen to focus on Jack's
arousal. Jack, an avid masturbator (as most sixteen year-olds are), was
expertly working his dick, and whether on purpose or not he was teaching
Mike tons about what was soon to become a full time hobby for the youth.

Jack grabbed his shaft right below his red helmet between his thumb and
forefinger, gently but forcefully jerking his cock in small strokes. Mike
would have spent years masturbating on his own before trying this
particular motion, but he took a cue from the older boy and gave it a
shot. "Oh!" he exclaimed, surprised at how good the motion felt.

"Yeah, pretty sweet, huh?" Jack replied and Mike grinned back. The boys
were now in intense heat, and the oldest showed it most. He began producing
a copious amount of precum, which drooled down his dick and made the entire
shaft glisten in the afternoon light. Joey also produced a little of the
liquid.

"Are you cumming?" Mike asked, a little hesitant to reveal his ignorance to
the older boy.

"Naw," Jack replied. "This is precum. It lubes things up nice and slick,
feels real good. You'll probably do it when you're older."

Jack, his cock now slick, began panting a little more deeply, then suddenly
reached up to violently tug his shirt over his head. He showed a little
more caution in removing his underwear, making sure not to smash his balls
when pulling them out of the fly. He collapsed back onto the couch, now
naked. Mike and Joey looked at one another then happily followed suit,
sucking their clothes in a hurried fashion, all three boys caught up in a
flurry of youthful hormones.

Controllers and clothing abandoned, the fully naked trio paid avid
attention to their own boners and watched one another. Mike couldn't get
over how hot Jack looked, his developed muscles flexing in time with his
strokes. Each time Jack changed grip Mike would follow suit, sampling each
stroking style for the first time.

Being teenagers, things didn't last too long. This time Joey was the first
to erupt, catching Mike by surprise while he watched Jack stroke.  "Uh, uh,
uh!" Joey exclaimed, suddenly turning beet red as his dick pulsed and shot
several ropes of cum onto his abs.

Mike briefly thought to wonder how fast the fluid replaced itself, but this
internal inquiry was short-lived when his own orgasm set in. He again
thought he was about to piss himself, but remembered what happened the
night before and continued to stroke his dick in the same technique Jack
was using. "Urg!" he grunted as he brought himself to orgasm for the first
time. Another small glob of clear semen ejected weakly from his dick on the
first spasm.

"Cool," Jack stated, looking first at his brother then at Mike. His eyes
rolled up into his head and he stroked even faster. "Ohhhhhhhhhhh," he
began in one long syllable, his entire body tensing and showing off the
benefits of a year of swimming and track,
"fuuuuuuuuuuuccccccckkkkkkkkkkkkkkk!!!" he yelled, his large balls pulling
up briefly into his crotch before several white ropes of cum spewed out of
his cock and onto his upper chest.

The three teenagers, their bodies soaked in hormonal bliss, collapsed back
on the sofa.

"Ahhhhhh," Jack sighed, "I needed that."

"Me too," Joey beamed.

The three laughed at their bliss and nakedness and nudity. Jack picked up
his discarded tank and wiped himself off, passing it along to Mike to do
the same.  The younger boy proudly took the t-shirt as if it were some
mysterious trophy of manhood and used it to clean up the minor mess he had
produced. Some of Jack's semen wiped off on his smooth stomach, and the boy
felt an odd twitch in his balls at this.

"I didn't know you two could spunk," Jack said, clapping his hands roughly
against the naked backs of the two boys. "That's awesome."

"I've been doing it about a year," Joey proudly stated, "but Mike just
learned last night."

"What?" Jack responded in mild astonishment. "No way, that's so cool. Way
to go dude."

Mike was a little annoyed at Joey for pointing him out as a newbie, but the
accolade coming from Jack in response kept him from getting too angry. He
felt somehow like he'd just joined a super-cool club or something.

"Dudes," Jack said, smiling mischievously, "if you're up for it I should
show you a few things."

The boys were twelve, thirteen and sixteen, and although they'd just cum it
was clear from three rampant erections that they were all three ready to go
again, as young boys are.

"Hell yeah," Joey exclaimed, and Mike joined in, excited to keep the naked
games going. The house their own for the evening, Jack jumped up off the
couch and went to the next room, still fully naked. The two younger boys
followed Joey's brother in excitement, and for the following hours the
older boy did indeed show the younger kids a thing or two.

First Jack produced a rather raunchy sex magazine and the three played with
themselves on his bed while looking at it.

"Ugh," Jack grunted as he came on the periodical.

"Urg," Joey followed suit.

"Ahrg!" Mike exclaimed lastly, still not used to the intensity of orgasm.

Next the three boys had a snack in the kitchen when they noticed a large
watermelon on the counter. Jack mentioned a porn site where there was
discussion of fucking melons, and about twenty seconds later the hapless
fruit had three holes and three teenage dicks in its sides.

Standing in a triangle with his two hot friends and penetrating the melon
together was far more erotic than fucking the fruit itself, and this time
Mike came first.  "YEAH!" he panted.

The must have inspired Jack, because once Joey had cum with his customary
chirping he bucked violently into the fruit, exclaiming "Yee-Haw!" loudly
before ejaculating.

After disposing of the melon, Jack introduced the boys to lotion.

"Uh...uh...uh...uh!"

"OH...oh....oh...oh!"

"ERGH...yeah...pant....gasp!"

Then they learned about real lube.

"Ohmygod...ohmygod....ohmygod....ohmygod!"

"Fuck...ohhhhhhhhhhfuuuuuuuucccccckkkkkkkk!!!"

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHH.........."

Then they showered. Together. And Jack taught them about showering
together.

"Uh...uh...uh...uh!"

"Here it comes...ughhhhhhh!"

"ohyeahohyeahohyeahohyeahohyeahohyeahohyeahohyeah!"

And so on. By the end of the night, when it was quite late and the three
were quite spent, they counted up at least ten orgasms apiece. If this
seems unbelievable, think back to those early days of pubescence. By the
end none of the boys were producing anything more than pleasure and
convulsions, and Mike had rubbed himself rather raw, and while the orgasms
were beginning to seem more painful than pleasurable, three dicks, all of
them curved, still stood at attention.

"Cool," Mike giggled before falling asleep that night, "pretty freaking
cool."