Date: Mon, 18 Aug 2008 07:05:41 +0100
From: Jonas Henley <jonas_henley@yahoo.co.uk>
Subject: Sweetwater Boys, Chapter 1

Sweetwater Boys
by Jonas Henley <jonas_henley@yahoo.co.uk>

Chapter 1
An introduction to growing up


Preface:

Maybe there are a few of you who want to hear more about some of the
Sweetwater boys' backgrounds, particularly the nice hottie Nathan was
gabbing it up with at Chase's house. [Remember: in the pool at Tyler's
friend's house]. So this tale is about Bobby and Andrew and Paul, the three
Sweetwater boys from KIS Chapter 10 and picks up again at the end of KIS
Chapter 18. I began writing it months and months and months ago. I figured
it was time for some tale on the side.


On Andrew, Paul, and Bobby at the point of questionable return:

If you recall, Bobby was the outgoing early pubescent tyke at the ripe age
of 12 who was engaging Nathan in some close conversation. He didn't have to
talk about sex to make it hot for the two boys in the pool, and he was
fairly sure that he had pegged Nathan right. Nathan was burning for boys.
That was something that couldn't be denied; and any 12 year old on the
forefront of puberty looking for some strange, or just some
experimentation, could pick up on that. So it was that, as the boys played
at the pool at Chase's house, Bobby came up with an idea to resolve the
three friends' last bid for sexploration before they went for the dating
life when school started back up. They had already figured a willing boy
might suffice better even than a girl, and Bobby knew that Nathan could be
induced to be willing.

So Andrew and Paul, only half-trusting Bobby as experience had taught them,
sat on the sidelines and let Bobby operate. They knew that Bobby, out of
any of them, could get the results. The results might be incredible or
disastrous, but he could get them.

Andrew just rolled his eyes as he watched Bobby work. Paul was more
reflective, thinking back to how their current bid had evolved from the
most natural curiosities in their changing bodies into this. He never
dreamed, and he was the one usually with the sparks of ideas that fueled
Bobby and that brought Andrew in tow, but he never dreamed they would have
reached this point - waiting for the fruits of Bobby's labor. Paul wanted
to back out of the venture entirely, half out of fear, half out of crossing
a line he never intended and wasn't sure he still wanted to cross, and, uh,
another half out of fear for good measure. OK then, maybe two thirds out of
fear and darker uncertainty.

It was Paul, actually, that got them all wondering to start with, at the
very beginning of their pubertal bursts. What more in life could be related
to these feelings that early puberty seemed to be bringing on?

It was usually Paul's initial prompting, not Bobby, that started things.
You see, Paul was the thinker of the group. He often instigated Bobby's
antics unawares; and Andrew, being of a very congenial an even-tempered
nature, usually just went along. Sometimes Andrew was the anchor that put
the brakes on Bobby. This time, though, it was Andrew that got them first
trying it.


More than a year before they met Nate:

The other two boys had walked in on Andrew one day and surprised him in the
middle of experimenting with jerking off, an act he more or less stumbled
upon two days prior. Being simply more reserved than shy, and not shy at
all about his body, despite what the sharp tan line would suggest, he told
the other two about it and briefly pulled his pants back down to show them.

Andrew had only recently turned 11 and the others were still 10. All three
boys later experimented on their own once each got home, and afterward it
became one of the main topics of conversation whenever they got together.
They never tried it together, and after a while, the mutual interest in
what each was trying out died down. After that they didn't really talk
about it, though each knew the others were nightly, or daily, pursuing
their new favorite activity.

The 2 1/2 to 3 inch erections were regularly pumped to dizzying feelings
that culminated in scary electrification of hands, balls, body and minds.
But nothing came out, for all their increasing familiarity with man's best
friend, none of them ever witnessed another boy's hard-on after Andrew's
first showing.



Later, there were some more firsts:

Andrew was the first of the three boys to get hairs above the root of his
penis. And he was also the first to produce cum, which came shortly before
the hairs did.

The little root of manhood that felt so spectacular when it rested hard in
his hand had been growing significantly over the last few months of
wanking. It went from 3 little hard, hard inches, to 3 1/2 to 3 3/4. It had
grown to nicely fill his small hand each night as he pleasured himself.
Perhaps all this activity was the cause of the growth? He didn't know, but
he certainly liked it. And this abrupt change.

At first Andrew was afraid he had broken something when those first clear
spurts started coming out. After all this use, maybe he had just pushed it
a bit too far. Maybe he had used it way too often, and it was more fragile
now that it was bigger? That thought didn't seem to make much sense, but
something new had happened that wasn't supposed to. And it certainly FELT
like something different had happened. The as yet unnamed feeling that
usually accompanied the activity was much, much stronger once the spurts of
clear cum came shooting out. And he felt more tired afterward, as well as a
bit less interested in a second go.

Andrew kept this new discovery to himself, more out of fear than anything
else. In fact, he was so afraid that he had somehow ruined his penis that
he didn't touch himself for almost two weeks. Finally the urge was much too
overpowering and he again grasped a hold of his hard and growing rod. It
seemed warmer than usual, tighter, and more tense. He resolved to go slower
so as to not break anything this time.

He had felt a little assured over the two weeks since that he was still
peeing alright; nothing had changed colors and nothing really hurt.
However, now that he was starting back in on the purple-headed monster -
incidentally a deeper color than he had noticed before - he could feel an
ache developing in his balls, balls that he noticed were feeling fuller,
hanging lower, and in general a little more wrinkly than they were just a
month ago.

Unfortunately for his piece of mind, waiting the two weeks didn't lessen
the impact of the orgasm when it finally hit him. It knocked him out.
Literally. The boy passed out from a punch within that started from the
head of his penis grasped strong in his grip and went straight to his
brain. The feeling was the extreme of pleasure and fright mixed in all at
once, right before everything went dark.

This time he was absolutely sure he broke something. He was definitely
doing something he shouldn't. Surely he shouldn't be doing this. He would
have heard something about this if he was supposed to be doing the things
he had been. Maybe just doing it was wrong. He resolved to never touch
himself again, and thought about whether he should tell Paul and Bobby. And
if he did, how should he tell them?

Every witness to this story can imagine how long that second resolve
lasted. Despite his fear, and the obvious proof that he had broken
something given the amount of stuff that came out, he just couldn't keep
his hands away. He lasted just over a week.

This time he decided he would just stop when he started to reach that
amazing feeling that dimmed out the rest of the world and pulled his brain
down into his nuts and tweaked every nerve in his body. When he reached
that point, when he started feeling the first tingles of it, he would back
off and that would be the end of it.

He tried this, and was actually successful at first. However just moments
later he was back to it, driven to play with his rock hard aching cock that
shot bolts of indescribable pleasure down the center of his dick toward the
center of his ass. He would tease himself and back off. He made it three
times, with each time getting more and more difficult to stop. Finally he
couldn't stop himself at all. His brain wasn't even a bystander now, it was
just pushed aside with an 'I'll fill you in later' shove and his hand went
to town on his dick, once again pulling an implosive effect on his butt,
dickhead, and all the stretched muscles of his back and legs causing him to
skim the edge of unconsciousness before briefly dipping in. When he came
to, he was less convinced he had broken something, since everything still
seemed to be working the same afterward. But something definitely had
changed, and he couldn't figure out why.

The next resolve to stop only lasted four days. The one after that was two
days. After that it became a daily frustrating resolve. Finally out of
desperation for an unobscured enjoyment, he quit trying any resolves and
just settled-in by getting used to this new development.

Now despite the jaded readers of today, whatever they may think, Sweetwater
kids were fairly sheltered in the grammar school years. Andrew should have
figured it all out early in 6th grade, but this was one of the moderately
religious, family-value neighborhoods where children still learned all the
basics of life fairly late. Now if he had lived in Indian Spring, or
Coolwater, which was more of a liberal community, he would have known what
this liquid was. He had vague suspicions, but never really went with them.
He was content to continue exploring this new development in dick-pounding
and learn that the feelings, once they were accepted, were rarely
overpowering to the point of fully passing out, but always incredibly
enjoyable.

He kept up his at-home experiment for nearly a month longer before he came
forward and told his friends about the strange spurting liquid. Paul wanted
to know what it was like, what exactly had happened. Bobby, on the other
hand, was more for visualization.

"Show us, Andrew."

As said above, Andrew was not a shy kid and had no problems showing his
friends. This wasn't even sexual to them, just information and exploration.
He pushed down the front of his pants and just started right away.

"Hold on." Paul said and he ran out of the room. He came back shortly.
Andrew still had his pants down, and Bobby was now pointing out the new
development of a couple of hairs, about a quarter-inch long and on the
brown side of black. Paul, on the other hand had been practical enough to
run to the bathroom to get the lotion that he had discovered made things go
even better. Then he left again to the living room and came back with a few
volumes of the encyclopedia.

"Here, use this. It feels better with it," he said as he tossed the lotion
to Andrew. Paul then stripped down himself to nothing but his glasses and
began flipping through the encyclopedias as Andrew began working himself
up.

"You're right, Paul! This stuff makes it feel a lot better starting."

Bobby kept watching, laying propped up on his elbows, his face practically
in Andrew's crotch. Paul looked up from the encyclopedias every now and
then to check the progress. Pretty soon he looked up in earnest as Andrew
announced it was happening.

Andrew straightened his back leaned forward slightly more and held one hand
in front of the opening of his dick while the other kept a deep massage of
that penile root going. He shot a fair amount of liquid into his hand and
held it out for inspection by both of the other boys.

Both boys dipped their fingers into the mixture and smelled it.

"You sure it isn't piss?" Bobby asked.

Afterward, Paul began to read to them what he was finding in the
encyclopedias. For close to three hours, one word lead to looking up the
other until the boys were fairly well versed on sex and what was happening
to their bodies, or rather what was happening to Andrew's body, and what
was eventually going to happen to the other two, as well. Paul was still
naked through all of this, seeing that it was at his house; and they had
the house to themselves for at least another hour. When he finished the
last word they wanted to look up and read about, Paul said he wanted to see
if he could start producing semen and sat up on his knees and began to flog
himself. The other boys were hardly even mildly interested, as it was still
much more interesting to do it to yourself than to watch someone else; plus
neither believed Paul could do what Andrew could. Still they politely gave
him a quiet audience all the way through his last gasps. Gasps that in the
end had disappointed him by once again producing nothing.

"It's OK, Paul. Maybe next time."  Bobby had offered.





Cumming of age:

After this, the boys kept loose tabs on the progression of Andrew's
puberty. He would regularly pull down the front of his pants and underwear
for a glimpse of his pubic hair. Every now and then he would haul out his
still growing erection, now getting a bit fuller, and work some lotion in
to spurt some cum for the audience of two. Each of them began wondering
when the other two would start.

Bobby, after months of trying out his small stiff friend and waiting in
vain for semen of his own, was finally the next in development and came
running up to the other two on their way into school one morning.

"Guy's you'll never guess what happened this morning!!"

Well, they did guess, and guessed correct. It was obvious, after all, for
what other great event had Paul and Bobby both been waiting? So that
afternoon they all got together at Paul's house again so Bobby could show
them.

"It was a lot more this morning," Bobby said as they all leaned in to look
at the streaks the two small spurts had left on his hand.

"I believe you Bobby. I think it gets more if you wait between rubbings and
less if you do it more often in one day. That's what I noticed with mine."
Andrew said.

"It makes sense," Bobby threw in. "Your balls probably need a break to make
more. They'll probably make even lots more when they get bigger, too."

The discussion then turned to whether Andrew's cum was finally becoming
white like the encyclopedia said it would. He affirmed that it was in fact
more whitish, kind of grayish really. Bobby of course wanted to be shown,
and he left his equipment still hanging out as Andrew once again pushed
down his pants and underwear, sat back on his heels, squeezed a bit of
lotion out, and began working on his growing dick. It had been three weeks
since he last did this in front of them, and he now had a dozen or more
hairs, and no longer brownish, but black like the hair on his head. The
other two boys watched, as in his final throes, he shot his growing load of
cum into his hand to show them the grey puddle in the center of his palm.

"I didn't play with it last night," he added somewhat breathlessly. The
other two boys understood that he was explaining, in part, why he had so
much more than Bobby.

"Cool." Bobby simply said, while Paul, who remained dressed this time,
nodded in agreement.

Over the next month or so, whenever the topic of masturbation, as they now
knew it was called, came up, the boys would slowly put together all the
swear words they had heard from time to time (and once or twice used
themselves) and finally connected them with the mechanics of everything
they had learned both in the encyclopedia and the few show-and-tell lessons
that they had given each other.

As was stated before, it was an observation made by Paul and taken up by
Bobby that began to move them forward in their exploration.



Approaching 12:

The next three months went a little slower in the shared dick-interest
department. The boys still did their own thing at home, with Andrew's cum
slowly becoming whiter and Bobby's slowly becoming thicker and more in
quantity. The boys still had gathered back at Paul's and each other's
houses from time to time; however, there were now only occasional and
casual inquiries into the development of each other. Paul was feeling
farther and farther behind, though he was able to ignore much of his
feelings when with his friends. And the other two never really said
anything.

Then one day, about 10 months after Andrew had started this all off with
his own discoveries, the boys had another of one of those meetings. The
news this time was again Bobby's:

"Hey check this out guys," and he lifted up his shirt and tucked it under
his chin and proceeded to unbuckle his belt. He snapped open his jeans and
unzipped his fly. Paul watched intently as the zipper moved down the fly
and the jeans began to part to reveal Bobby's blue briefs. Paul had a small
fear of what he was about to see, though he was anxious to see it just the
same. His dick could affirm that, pushing up against his own restraining
underwear and pants. So still he watched, as Bobby hooked his thumbs into
the front of his blue JC Penney briefs and pushed them downward.

Paul's eyes grew large as he watched the advancing soft skin, already
knowing what to expect as he saw the first hairs appear above the
waistband. Then a few more appeared, followed by the flaccid root of a
young boy's penis. Eventually Bobby pushed the front of his shorts down far
enough to reveal his totally limp penis dangling over a tight scrotum,
growing slightly darker and more wrinkled by the month. He was definitely
developing some cum factories and now had the hairs to prove it.

Paul sighed and Bobby and responded, "Paul, dude, don't worry about it.
You're gonna get some hair soon."

"Yeah," Andrew added, "and you'll probably have the biggest dick out of all
of us."

Paul just shrugged and went back to reading a cheat book on his latest
video game.

"Those are cool, Bobby." Andrew said as Bobby pulled his shorts back up,
covering his sparse, crooked and crinkled brown hairs.

"Thanks, Andrew. Hey, I wonder what color yours are gonna be, Paul. Maybe
blond?"

Paul looked back up and shrugged. Then he smiled and said, "They are cool
Bobby. Yours, I mean. And I guess mine will probably be more blond than
brown. I've been reading some more on all of it. Getting hair and all of
that. I just wish I had some."

Bobby could understand. He had eagerly awaited his own pubic hair, and for
the last few days had been running his hands through the short and
scraggily silkiness of his burgeoning mark of adolescence more than he had
even played with his dick. As for the dick itself, Bobby was quickly
becoming enamored with the form and substance of his hardened boyhood. He
didn't just jack-off in anticipation of a wash of feelings like Andrew. He
didn't analyze anatomical detail to reference in books or search for signs
of impending development like Paul.

Bobby lavished his hand on his dick. He luxuriated in the feel, as much as
the sight, of his hand sliding over the engorged ridge of his helmet. His
bulb was lighter in color than Andrews, and didn't flare as much, but he
loved it. He was a devoted convert to a horny nature, one that fit in with
his genuine rambunctious and mischievous undertones.

He still always managed to keep under the radar with his general nature,
but if one boy in the classroom was going to have a dab of mud on his face
or mussed hair, it would be Bobby. This new activity was just another part
of that nature, as he leaned back in his bed, totally naked with his smooth
toned skin highlighted by the white sheets underneath, straining his back
and pushing his dick up through his fists as he felt the final eruption
pending aaaaaaannnnnnddd BAM! Release. Pure enjoyable release.

Outside the door, Oscar Chambers chuckled to himself as he walked past,
going back downstairs. "So, little Bobby's growing up. Oh, boy. Janice, I
don't think you're going to miss the next few years too much." He was
talking to his dear departed wife, as much to himself. He had a habit of
doing that when alone, but this time instead of sad, he just chuckled all
the more - remembering his own early years through puberty. "I guess the
girls are coming next." He said with a sigh.

Meanwhile upstairs Bobby had cleaned up and hopped back into bed, still
totally naked, as was his custom now. When Oscar came up a little later to
say goodnight, Bobby was already fast asleep. Oscar began to tuck the boy
in, but couldn't resist turning on the bedside lamp and lifting up the
sheet. No worries on waking Bobby up; the boy slept like a rock. His dad
looked down at the growing body, the perfection of being almost at the
edge. He saw the perfectly formed penis, now limp against a hanging
ballsack and he noticed the strands of brown pubic hair just above his
son's penile root. Oscar smiled to himself and thought, "Yep. He's growing
up." He tucked the boy in and turned out the light.