Date: Sun, 25 Nov 2018 09:33:19 +0100 (CET) From: David Subject: David's World, Part Four-David Grows up a Bit In this chapter, David gets a bit of unexpected help and deals with his panic attack. When I began writing this autobiographical series, I simply wanted to share some of my early sexual experiences and contribute to the Nifty Archives in a way I felt I could -- with honest accounts of actual events. I suppose I was rather naive thinking I could write about them without including a bit of background, and the sex so far has taken a back seat to that. It seems that background, or David's struggle with understanding and accepting the hand he's been dealt, is what most of you find most appealing. I have struggled to stay on track with reasonably short, highly readable chapters which include the eroticism I set out to write. For those expecting to vicariously enjoy young David's first sex, the wait is nearly over, so don't fold just yet. The chapters might sometimes be a bit longer than I had hoped, and the sex acts might be a bit delayed, but I will do my best to keep the chapters reasonably short and the sex abundant. I am somewhat overwhelmed by the positive feedback, especially comments that my experiences have caused you to pleasantly relive your own past. Thank you. I reply to all emails. I enjoy hearing from you! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing it. I retain all rights of ownership, use and distribution while granting Nifty digital license to share this with you for your personal reading pleasure only, according to Nifty's terms. If you are able, please consider a small donation to Nifty to help maintain this great repository of GLBT erotica. It's easy. Just go to http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html -David, aka Lovebug ******************** DAVID'S WORLD PART FOUR: David Grows up a Bit [In the last chapter, David fails to find the boy he met the day before and ends up masturbating in a public restroom where he nearly hooks up with a man who -- to David's unraveling -- turned out to be someone who knows him from church.] It was after 7:00 and the sun was about to set. I had regained my composure. I had no tears left to cry, no voice left to scream, no feelings left to feel; I was numb, in a zombie-like state in which I resigned myself to my fate of a life of ridicule and shame. I was worthless, even too much a sissy to do the brave thing, to end it all. I had considered putting my head in one of the rocking-horse oil pumps which surrounded me to squish my head like a grape. But I couldn't. Sissy boys don't do that sort of thing. I grabbed my bike and walked it home. I was in no hurry. Didn't even want to ride the damn thing. My mom surely knew Brother Frandsen. Had he called her? Or would he call our Bishop? Either way, I was screwed. The funny thing, surely obvious to you, dear reader, but of which I was completely ignorant, is Brother Frandsen was just as naughty as I. How could he tell on me without telling on himself? He was old, probably late-twenties, married with a couple of young kids. In my panicked state, I did not consider this at all. I made it home just after the street lights came on. Had I been outside playing it would be time to come in, but as I had not yet been home from school, I knew there would be hell to pay. I didn't care. A couple days grounding for not coming home or calling was nothing compared to what lay in store for me. I dropped my bike on the front lawn and went inside expecting my mom to yell at me -- or worse. "My gawd David! What happened? Are you okay?" mom shrieked, truly scared. I stopped and stood there, head hanging, unable to face her. I must have been a sight. When I cry, my eyes redden and puff up terribly. My knuckles were bloody, my clothes were filthy, my cheeks were tearstained. She rushed to me and put her hands on my shoulders to get a good look. She lovingly brushed my cheek with the backs of her curled fingers. She lifted my hand and examined it, put it gently back at my side and raised the other for a similar inspection. I stood motionless, looking down, fighting back more tears I didn't think I had. She tugged my shoulder, turning me a bit to look at my backside and brushed off loose dirt from my shirt and seat of my pants, not caring it went all over her spotless floor. She turned me back to face her, hands back on my shoulders. She ran her fingers through my hair then gently lifted my chin, raising my bowed head to look at her. She looked bewildered, worried, and sad. I lost it; I was not done crying. I started wailing like a baby. My chest hurt, my first heartache. I was so sorry for what I had done, for what I had become. She didn't say another word, just wrapped her arms around me as I buried my face in her bosom and hugged back. She held me and gently rocked me forever, as time at that moment was meaningless. I felt her crying too, and she kissed the top of my dirty hair over and over, cooing that it'll be okay. I eventually believed her that all would be okay and my crying turned to sobs. In her infinite wisdom, she did not ask a single question. She recognized that I was hurting emotionally and that the minor physical scars were incidental to it. She knew I needed her love, not her interrogation. "You better, sweetie?" she softly, lovingly asked. I nodded, unable to speak. "Let's get you cleaned up," she suggested, as she led me by my hand to the master bathroom even though the hall bath was vacant. I guess she thought I needed my privacy. She sat me on the toilet lid and started the bathwater. "I'll get you some clean clothes." Mom was back in a heartbeat with a fresh towel (one of the nice ones we kids aren't allowed to use), undies, and pajama bottoms. She set them on the vanity. I thought of the magazines under the vanity but had a sudden contempt for them and anything sexual. She felt the water and adjusted the temp, added her bubble soap, and knelt before me waiting for the large tub to fill. She didn't say a word, but just rubbed the backs of her fingers on my cheek, saying more with that gesture than any words could convey. I closed my eyes and held her hand against my face, enjoying the pure love I felt. "Okay, Mister, it's about ready," she said. She felt the water again, swirling it around. "Nothing a hot bubble bath can't fix. Take your time, relax, and let the bath wash away all your troubles, okay?" "Okay mom," I managed to squeak out with a broken voice. She turned the lock and closed the door behind her. ********** The bath did wonders. I soaked for about an hour, adding hot water as needed until my pruny fingers needed a break. I mulled over today's events and eventually realized Brother Frandsen couldn't tell anyone what he saw because he was doing even more than I was. I felt pretty stupid for having panicked, but I felt so relieved it didn't matter. I was no longer suffocating under the pressure of everything bad I thought lay ahead for me. The idiom "a tremendous weight off my shoulders" is surely born from the physical feeling one gets from such relief. Indeed, I felt so good after I had that little epiphany I even got hard. I had been watching my dick float. I hadn't taken a bath in years, not since it grew from its little boy size, so I didn't know it would float. It turned me on. I had to feel my balls, too, to try and figure out why they weren't also floating. I enjoyed the sensual feelings without any sexual thoughts whatsoever, and I wondered what it would look like to squirt underwater. So I played. I leaned back almost horizontal in the large tub and played with my nipples, both at once. With my wrinkly, waterlogged fingertips, it felt like somebody else was playing with them. Oh, what a feeling! I flicked them back and forth lightly for probably five minutes while occasionally squeezing my butthole and making my dick jump. I think I could come with this alone, but I continued playing with one nipple and reached down to play with my rigid 4-inch friend. My balls weren't as sensitive as usual, at least not to the light caresses I usually enjoy so much. Must be the water. I could float a bit in that deep tub, so I arched my middle upward and reached under for my perineum, but I came up short and my fingers went into my crack. Wait just a minute! Wow. I reached my fingers in again and felt my hole. Oh, man! I think I just found another e-zone! The water was cooling and I was surprised my mom had not been back to check on me, so I filed that one away and got back to business. I arched my middle higher, exposing my charms to the cool air and fondled my balls, which were hanging much more loosely than usual. I pinched my left nipple while I stroked my dick with my right thumb and fingers, starting slowly, enjoying the view. The sensual feelings in my nipple and dick were more than sufficient to bring me to orgasm without any sexual thought whatsoever. Faster and faster I went, and in less than a minute I felt that tingly, intense burning pleasure behind my balls. It spread deeper and wider, that fantastic feeling I craved. I dropped my middle back under the water and slowed my stroking as my dick lurched and my ass clenched and held for a second or two before convulsing with the expected terrific feeling I can describe only as blissful. I was riveted watching three little squirts of grayish clouds erupt from my dick. Fascinating, I thought. I laughed as I thought I sounded like Mr. Spock, and imagined him saying "Fascinating" after watching me jerk off underwater. I lay in the tub another few minutes recovering from a rather intense orgasm before getting up and rinsing. I drained the tub as dried myself and dressed, making sure any evidence washed down. I got a long drink of water from the vanity faucet. I came out of the bathroom and saw my dad sitting up in bed reading. He looked up, but I was embarrassed and looked away as I hurried for the door. "How ya doing, Champ?" he asked, undeterred. "I'm okay," I answered with a bit of hoarseness. Seems I had gotten at least some of my voice back. "You been fighting?" What a stupid thing to say, I thought. I've never been in a fight in my life. "No," I mumbled as I walked out of the bedroom and down the hall to my room. I wanted to go straight to bed. My mom, apparently, had made my bed for me and turned on my bedside lamp. I closed my door, crawled into bed and turned off the lamp. I stretched out on my tummy thinking my bed had never felt so good. My sheets were even fresh. There was a light knock on my door. "Honey? Are you hungry?" she asked. "No ma I just wanna sleep, I'm beat," I said, again delighting in a clever, albeit accidental pun. "Okay, but if you get hungry, I made you a plate. It's in the fridge next to the... you'll see it." I thanked her and we said goodnight. I don't deserve her. ******************** Thanks for reading! This chapter was very painful to write. I hope it was worth the effort, that it resonates with some of you. I know I promised actual David-and-another sex in this chapter, but after much consideration, I decided to truncate this where I did and submit this as its own chapter. This chapter as it is now should be around 10K. As it was, it would probably have been 30-35K. Although the next chapter describes David's first oral sex act, it includes two distinct parts. For sake of brevity, I may again separate the next narrative into two chapters, but the next chapter most definitely will include a long-promised sex act. As always, I love to hear from you! I answer all emails. -David, aka Lovebug