Date: Tue, 15 Aug 2006 23:28:33 -0400
From: Philerup
Subject: Aubrey

	Everyone remembers the First Time, of course.  Sometimes it's such
a sky-rocketing experience that it remains engraved on your memory for the
next fifty years (if you live that long!).  Or it may be a very ho-hum
occurrence that offered little clue to the exquisite joy that would come
with increased experience over the years.
	Mine was relatively unique, I think -- though there may be many
others who had the same experience.  It happened when I was young. Very
young.  Like, seven years old.
	We lived in an apartment over a florist's shop.  Across the hall
was another apartment, where a family lived who owned a tire shop below,
next to the florist.  There were several young men in the family, but I
scarcely knew them -- they were so much older than I was. But the youngest,
Aubrey, was a friendly guy, who would stop and talk to me, buy me a piece
of gum from one of those machines they had, or give me a ride on his bike.
He was about sixteen, and I thought he was really Something Else.  And he
was.
	The two families shared the attic that stretched above both
apartments, though neither made much use of it except to hang up clothes
when it rained. It had rained the day before, and my mother sent me up to
the attic to see if the clothes were dry.  To my surprise, there was
Aubrey, standing by an open window -- smoking. I was shocked.
	"Gee, Aubrey," I said, "I didn't know you smoked."
	He grinned, exhaled, ground out the cigarette on the floor, picked
up the butt, wrapped it in a piece of tin foil, and put it in his pocket.
	"There's a lot of things about me you don't know," he said.
	I was intrigued. "Like what?"
	He looked me over for a moment, then said, "How'd you like to see
my pecker?"
	I had no idea what he was talking about. That word wasn't in my
vocabulary. You gotta remember, this was over fifty years ago. Kids weren't
so precocious then!  I thought maybe he had a pet bird in the attic.
	"Sure," I said.  "I'd like to."
	He unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down.  He hooked his thumbs
in his underwear and pulled it down.
	"Ain't that a nice pecker?" he asked.
	It was.  I had two older brothers, and they were both uncut, though
I seldom had the chance to observe them anyway. One was the same age as
Aubrey, and one was a year older, but they had nothing to compare with
this. I felt an interest rising in me that I had never experienced
before. I tentatively touched it.
	"Go ahead," said Aubrey.  "Play with it."
	I put my hand around the soft round piece of flesh. It was warm and
smooth.
	"How'd you like to suck it?" he asked.
	I hadn't even thought about it, but he held it up so I could put it
into my mouth. As I got close to it, an unfamiliar but pleasing aroma
overcame me -- one that I was to become familiar with many times over the
next many years.  His cock was limp, but when I put it into my mouth, it
soon began to grow.  He pulled it out of my mouth -- much to my
disappointment
	"Play with it some more," he said.
	I didn't need the encouragement.  I played with it. In no time it
was hard as a rock. I had never seen such a thing before.  And I knew that
I wanted to see it, and feel it, and suck it again and again.
	He didn't cum.  He just let me play with his wonderful piece of
flesh for a few minutes, then put it away.  But there were many more times.
We met in the attic and in the back room of his family's tire shop.  One
time we went to his bedroom and he stripped completely -- the only time. On
that occasion I tasted something from his cock -- I thought it was urine
and I was turned off, but he explained it was something else that someday I
would produce myself.  But it was several years before my education
advanced to that -- thanks to Patrick.
	Aubrey moved away just a few months after this all began, and I was
broken-hearted.  I can't remember his face at all now, but I'll never
forget that cock and the exquisite sensation I felt when I first touched
it.