Date: Tue, 2 Dec 2003 04:07:02 +1100
From: Janosz Poha <jgdavies@optushome.com.au>
Subject: Showing Zack

Copyright Janosz Poha 2003

	After swimming, myself and my two friends retired to the changing
room, an area of increasing interest for me.  Myself and Zach stood
uncertainly with our bags on the bench in front of us, while Simon peeled
off his shorts with a child's complete lack of self-consciousness.  He
walked naked in front of us to the shower room, his penis like a small
acorn, as brown and smooth as the rest of his body.  His scrotum was a
tight ball behind it.

	"Simon doesn't care," Zach observed, in a tone not completely safe
from curiosity.  Still, Zach and I would always hide our nakedness from
anyone.  Zach was shorter than me, although a year older at thirteen.  My
mother described him as cute.  Although I saw his bare ass several times a
week, usually shown to me when I least expected it, he was cautious about
revealing the space on the other side of it.  I followed suit; we were best
friends, after all.

	After showering in our soaking wet shorts, we undressed, and dried,
behind towels.  Although no-one could see me, I enjoyed the feeling of
being naked in the company of others, something that I had never
experienced.  I watched Zach pull on a pair of bright blue underpants,
(jocks, as we call them here), with pictures of stars on them.  His slight
belly poked over the top.  Having dried himself carelessly, the cotton wet
through and I saw the outline of his ass-cheeks as he turned from me.  I
pulled on a pair of red underpants with a looney-tunes pattern.  I was
thin, so no belly hung forward -- in fact, each muscle on my stomach was
defined.

	"Like my six-pack?" I asked my friends.  Zach cast a slow eye over
my body, his expression an uncertain one.  He smiled cheekily and pretended
to punch me, his fist lightly touching my skin.

	Simon came from a family with quite strict parents.  After the
pool, he had to go home.  Zach and myself, however, could return to my
house, where my mother went to bed as soon as darkness fell.  We prepared
to get into our sleeping bags in front of the TV.  Going through his bag,
Zach said, "I don't know why my mum packed towels." He was far too self
conscious to strip naked in somebody else's house, as I was also.  I turned
to the kitchen behind us and went to get a drink, and when I turned around,
I saw him removing his clothes with mock pride.  This was his dominant
playful side.  One time, at the mall, he had tried to sneak into a movie in
a joking, conspicuous manner, wanting to get caught.  Another time he had
walked into a women's lingerie store, not seeing why I would be embarrassed
to do such a thing myself.

	He strutted over to me, the lose fabric hanging loosely in the
front but hugging his ass at the back, and took the drink I poured for him.
He drank it with an exaggeratedly masculine gesture, as a cowboy might do
in a saloon, and got more liquid on his face than in his mouth.  I showed
disgust.  He laughed.  "I just did that to see your reaction," he said.  He
turned and walked away and I slapped him playfully on the ass, loving the
feel of it.  Struck by sudden playfulness, I then reached forward and
hooked my index fingers into the sides of his underpants, and yanked them
down.  He turned his head to face me, keeping his front hidden, and gave me
a stern look, then slowly pulled his pants back up, so as to not seem
embarrassed.  "Don't do that again," he said.

	His contempt for such a gesture had its origins in a school camp
experience we had shared.  Playing around noisily after lights-out, he had
attracted the attention of a teacher, who ordered him to put on his
pajamas.  The rest of us were in bed already.  He acted shyly on that
occasion, obviously embarrassed about getting down to his jocks in front of
the watchful eyes of a teacher at the door.  In the lower bunk bed right
next to him, I couldn't resist reaching over and de-jocking him.  He pulled
his underpants up quickly, but I'm sure the teacher got an eyeful.  He
didn't forgive me for that one for quite a while.

	After we got into our sleeping bags, we watched the movie barely
speaking a word.  It was a flick we'd chosen based solely on the promise of
nudity the cover displayed, and it didn't disappoint.  Throughout the
better parts Zach made little "ooh" noises, and moved his legs from place
to place.  I sat riveted, my penis hard in my jeans, uncomfortable but
pleasurable at the same time.  When it was over, I turned the lights out,
and lay down on my pillow.  Zach faced me and looked as though he had
something he wanted to say.  I waited for it.  "Did you get a stiffy during
that movie?" he asked.

	"Yeah," I said.  He lay his head down next to mine and looked into
my eyes contentedly.
	"Mine would be about that big," he said, and held his hand up,
creating a space of about three inches in between his thumb and forefinger.

	"So would mine, I think," I said.  He looked at me in quite
gratitude.  I felt very close to him, and almost wanted to reach out.
	After trying to sleep for a while, I stood up.  I was still fully
dressed.
	"What are you doing?" Zach asked me.
	"I can't sleep here," I said, and turned towards my room.  He got
up and followed me, clad only in underwear.  In my room, I turned the light
on, and quickly undressed and got under the covers.  I turned on my
nightlight, which I still felt I needed.

	"Zach," I said.
	"Yeah," he asked, lying in his sleeping bag on the floor next to my
bed.
	"Have you ever masturbaded?" I asked, saying the word incorrectly.
	"No," he said, "I don't know how to."
	"Well," I said, "you know when you get a stiffy, it feels kind of
good if your dick rubs against your pants?" I asked him.
	"Yeah?"
	"I think if you rubbed your dick with your hands, maybe that's what
masturbation is."
	He looked at me with interest but said nothing.
	"Let's try it," I said urgently.  I was really the leader in our
friendship, as I was more than willing to take risks.  Zach would follow me
in anything, and I had intelligence enough to do it.  Hence I realized this
suggestion was not something likely to place our friendship in jeopardy.
	"How are we going to try it?" he asked me, sounding confused.

	"Like this," I said, trying to act as if there was nothing strange
about this.  I got out of bed, and lay next to Zach's sleeping bag, pulling
it open so that I could see his semi-nakedness.  I slowly, gently slid
Zach's underpants down, and saw his penis for the first time.  It was just
like mine, I noticed.  He'd told me that he was circumcised, and it was a
little bit hot and red from the constant erection he'd doubtlessly had from
the movie we had just watched.

	"You take it in your hand," I said, speaking as though I was
explaining a maths problem to him, as I'd done countless times before, "and
pull it very gently."  I reached over and took his penis in my fingers
beneath the head, and started stroking it.  Zach made a slight gasping
noise, and I saw it come to life and stand up, like a cobra at the music of
a flute.  I grasped it in my small hand and kneaded it's whole length.
Zach bucked his hips hard against my hand, and made a sound like he was in
pain, but I continued anyway.  Soon, his penis quivered strangely in my
hand, and spat out a milky white substances.
	"Whoa," Zach said, "that felt great."

	"Look," I said, holding a sticky finger to his face, "I got some
cum."  He looked at his own semen like someone studying a rare species of
insect.

	Holding his balls gingerly, his stomach bulging out nicely, he
said, "thanks for showing me that."  He smiled in mild embarrassment.

	"I think I'm going to sleep down here today," I said, and hooked my
legs over into the open fold of his sleeping bag, zipping it up.  "I gotta
keep an eye on you."  Inside the bag, I climbed on top of him, tickling him
furiously.  He couldn't stop laughing.  I didn't stop either; my penis was
excited rubbing up against him inside my cotton underwear.  Soon,
exhausted, I lay beside him, my thigh draped over his body.  His sticky
prick pressed against the inside of my thigh, and I felt like my own was
rock hard and ready to burst.  I closed my eyes and had the most contented
sleep of my life.  The day earlier I awoke before Zach did, and resigned
myself not to mention the earlier night's activities, so as to not scare
him.  Later, I could try for a repeat occurrence.