This story contains descriptions of sexual acts involving a man, a teenager and two MINOR boys. Such descriptions are an integral part of the story. While the story may appeal to prurient interests, it is intended to have serious literary value. As a friend once said: "Everyone has the right to fantasy. No one has the right to censor an imagination, or dreams."
With that in mind, know that this story is not true, although it is based on fact and some real events! Further, it is not intended to promote illegal acts against minors, but to demonstrate that men and boys can love each other despite the prevalent attitudes of western society. It is my goal to help readers appreciate that love. The sexual acts described in the story are the result of my imagination. I have not performed these acts, and I do not encourage others to perform them with minors. If the subject of man/boy love offends you, if this material is illegal in your place of residence, or if you are under the legal age for such material, do not read further!
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The story is copyrighted under my pseudonym, Ganymede. A copy has been placed in the Nifty archives for your enjoyment. The story cannot be used to derive monetary gain. The story cannot be placed in archives that require payment for access, or printed and distributed in any form that requires payment either directly or indirectly.
Any similarity to individuals, living or dead, is entirely accidental. Reference is also made in context to movies, characters, and actors that have become part of modern western culture. No other implication about the true sexuality of the people mentioned or their private lives is intended.
Now that the preliminaries are out of the way.....
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Bulahdelah! It sure wasn’t much to look at. Take away the mountain that looms behind the town and it could be any small country town in NSW, but I’ll never forget it. The dozen or so shops on the main street were just beginning to wake up when Byron parked the car outside the cake shop. A woman bustled past just as we got out of the car. She was dressed in a floral-patterned skirt that was two sizes too small for her and a wide-brimmed hat complete with ribbons and plastic flowers. She started talking to herself, muttering something about surfers being too lazy to work for a living. She didn’t seem to care if two of the surfers were kids who were too young to get jobs, and the oldest one was making money hand over fist selling surf boards as fast as he could make them. Blaine and I exchanged a look and giggled behind her back. She had a huge behind, just like Mrs. Carruthers, the music teacher at Edgecliff Preparatory School. Byron merely shrugged and led the way into the shop.
The array of cakes, tarts and pies in the cake-shop was more than enough to tempt a boy, even if he wasn’t hungry. Blaine and I feasted our eyes on cream- horns, vanilla slices, lemon tarts, custard pies, apple crisps, and lamingtons. Along with a pint of milk, I chose a lamington and a vanilla slice, without the cream. In my mind, there was no faster way of being sick. However, the one I picked out had an extra thick layer of passion-fruit-flavoured icing, which I liked just about more than anything else.
Then, clutching our breakfast in paper bags, it was back into the car and a few minutes drive down to the council-managed park that was next to the Myall River. At that time in the morning, we had the place to ourselves. Byron parked the car and we walked over to a picnic table.
“You know, you really don’t have to join the club, Allan, not if you don’t want to,” Byron said nonchalantly as he chewed one of his lamingtons. “I’ll still teach you how to surf, mate.”
After I finished chewing my vanilla slice, I licked icing from my fingers. “It’ll wear off, right?” I asked boldly.
I had grown used to the idea by then, although thinking about it still made me uneasy. If I was careful no one else would ever know about it. The worst part would be Bruce making fun of me, but he’d also make fun of me if I didn’t do it.
“Yep. But not for a while, boy-o. Still, you’ll have be careful who sees your privates. It’ll take a few weeks before it’s gone.” He smiled at me and brushed crumbs of cake and coconut from his hands. “You up for it or not, guys?”
I looked at Blaine. He nodded without hesitation. I nodded too, but I wasn’t sure why, except that I didn’t want to be left out. Besides, from the sound of it, it had been done to Blaine the year before. He had received private lessons from his uncle for a few weeks of the previous summer. That was why he was such a good surfer.
“Where are you going to do it?” Bruce asked.
“Not here, that’s for sure,” Byron said mockingly, pointing at a tractor that was following a couple of cattle dogs down the road. “Reckon we’ll use the lav. Go check it out, Bruce. You guys finish up eating and I’ll get the stuff from the car.”
Bruce and Byron walked off. Blaine and I looked at each other for a few seconds.
“You’re really going to let him do it to you, Allie?” Blaine asked hesitantly.
He didn’t sound as confident as he usually was, but neither did he sound particularly anxious. Then, I realised that he was worried about whether I was going to do it.
I shrugged as nonchalantly as I could, taking my cue from how he acted. I had a funny feeling, something inside me saying ‘do it’. Whatever it was, it was exciting me in a way that I really didn’t understand. I had to think just to breath. Other than what happened that morning when I woke up, Blaine was the only person who had seen my balls in the last five years. I trusted him because we were best friends, but Byron and Bruce? That was an entirely different matter. Blaine waited while I tried to understand the thoughts that clamoured in my mind.
“I will,… if you do,” I finally managed to get out. My decision was made and I would stick by it.
Blaine grinned. “Ripper! There’s nothing to be worried about. It only takes a minute or so but it lasts forever. It makes you one of us,” he added seriously.
“Only you have to go first,” I countered.
“Sure, why not?” Blaine grinned and bit into his lemon tart. “This is really good,” he announced boldly.
“It’d be better if you ate with your moosh closed.”
His response was to shove the rest of it in and masticate energetically.
“It gives a whole new meaning to ‘cake hole’,” he laughed, spitting bits of tart across the table.
I laughed too. At the station wagon, Byron was taking out some of the cardboard boxes and bags from the back.
“Allie, you know what By was talking about when he said no telling anyone, don’t you?”
I stopped eating. “Kind of,” I ventured.
It was the first time that Blaine had called his uncle ‘By’. The way he talked reminded of someone sharing a secret, only I hadn’t been sworn to secrecy. Or had I?
“Hm,… See, it’s like this. We’re all guys, right?”
He paused, turning his tart upside and licking off the icing sugar. He glanced over his shoulder at Bruce just before he entered the brick and corrugated iron lavatory. He waved to Byron at the car and gave the thumbs-up salute. Byron waved back.
“And guys,… at least when they don’t have girlfriends,… they do stuff sometimes.” He stopped, changing his approach. “Allie,… Well you know how you and I muck around with each other’s dongs and stuff sometimes?”
“Yeah?” I wasn’t certain where he was headed, but I had a vague idea it was something to do with what happened the night before. I waited.
“Lots of guys do things like that, you know, Allie, not just us,… It doesn’t mean we’re poofters or anything like that. It’s okay because we’re mates.”
“Okay?” I wasn’t agreeing or disagreeing.
“You like messing around with me, don’t you?” Blaine prompted.
“Yeah, I guess, but it’s not just me. So do you, Blaine,” I answered defensively.
“I know that. See, the thing is,… well some things might happen at By’s place,… You might think it’s kinda strange,…”
“Something like what?”
“Um,… Maybe,… well like the stuff we do for instance.” He watched me for a reaction.
I shrugged. I enjoyed doing ‘stuff’ with Blaine. He knew I did, Why would say that I might think it was strange?
“And if it does, then you can’t tell anyone,” he finished in a rush.
“I wouldn’t tell anyway, Blaine,” I said bluntly. “We’re mates, that’s why. The thing is, you shouldn’t have told Byron about us,” I added argumentatively
“Look, I’m sorry about doing that, Allie. It’s no big deal for him to know we sucked each other off. Bruce too. No one cares except you. I keep telling you that By’s really okay. He’s nothing like other grown-ups. He swears, and mucks about with us. He’s more like an older brother to me than an uncle.”
“What about our promise to keep the stuff we do a secret?” I demanded. “Why did you have to shout it out for the whole bloody world to hear?”
Blaine looked down at his feet. “So I screwed up. I’m sorry, okay.” He took a deep breath. “Doing stuff like what we did last night,… Allie, see it’s not what everyone thinks. It’s fun. You liked it, didn’t you?” he asked again, increasingly less certain because we both knew that whatever I said would change our relationship.
“It was okay,” I answered evasively.
The pressure was off, at least for the moment. “You did it really great, especially for it being your first time and all.” He giggled suddenly. His relieve was palpable.
“What’s so funny?” I demanded.
“You want to know a secret, Allie?”
I shrugged. Unlike Blaine, I was good at keeping secrets. As far as I was concerned just about everything that Blaine and I did together was a secret that had to be kept. The other two people who I sometimes confided in would never understand. Apparently, Blaine didn’t feel the same way.
“Okay?” I prompted, without promising to keep the secret, but then he hadn’t asked me to.
He smiled enigmatically. “See,…Last night,…” He glanced around, avoiding my eyes. “You made me spunk for the first time ever, Allie.”
“That’s why I told By, see? I spunked last night. I had to tell him about that.”
“You spunked?” I asked in disbelief.
Suddenly, I remembered the strange, slightly slimy taste on my tongue. It was different to anything I’d ever tasted, his penis included. My mind reeled. A single word had completely changed the meaning of what happened during the night before. Spunk! The stuff that babies were made from. Blaine had produced semen for the first time. Not only that, but he spunked in my mouth? I stared at him, then looked away quickly. It was impossible to believe, yet something in his expression told me it was true. It wasn’t something he would lie about.
“Yep.” He nodded again for extra confirmation. “I spunked, Allie. I really did it.”
We watched Byron walking across to the public lavatory. He turned and beckoned to us. Bruce was lounging against the wall, grinning like the Cheshire cat. I glanced back at Blaine. For the moment there were more important things on my mind. Was it possible? It made sense of course, because he was at the age when it was supposed to happen to a boy. My second-hand knowledge of sex extended that far, but still? It was almost impossible to believe, not that he hadn’t done it, but that I had made Blaine do it. I was responsible for Blaine’s first emission of semen, and he had done it in my mouth.
“That was spunk?” I asked uncertainly.
He nodded. “You want to know something else. I did it again this morning, Allie, just before you woke up. I wanted to make sure before I told anyone.”
“And?” Now it was my turn to sound uncertain.
“When it comes out, man it’s weird. At first, see, it’s just like spit,” he replied confidently.
“How much was there?” I asked, aware that I was becoming increasingly tense.
“There was just a little bit. Like a droplet or two. It oozes out, sort of like when you drool.” He smirked, obviously proud that he could do something that I could not.
“It’s mostly like saliva then?”
“Yeah, pretty much. I know I told you it was white. Back then I didn’t know it takes a while for that to happen. It gets thicker too,” he added expertly. “Then, there’s a lot more of it. It won’t be long and I’ll be shooting spunk everywhere.”
“You spunked in my mouth?” I thought aloud.
On reflection, I wasn’t at all sure that I liked the idea of that, but neither was I sure that I didn’t like it. The more I thought about it the more I realised that it hadn’t been unpleasant in the slightest.
“Yeah, I guess I did,… I’m sorry, Allie. See, I didn’t know it was going to happen. I would have told you otherwise. It just kept getting nicer and nicer, and then I got the feeling, only it was better than it’s ever been. I was sure something came out, but you didn’t say anything, so I didn’t know.”
“I guess I didn’t know. It tasted a bit funny at the end, but that’s all.”
“That was probably it,” Blaine said proudly.
“There wasn’t very much.”
“That’s how it is at first. It was the same this morning.”
“You wanked again this morning?” I asked awkwardly, forgetting that he’d just told me that, and then remembering what I dreamed about just before I woke up. Perhaps it wasn’t a dream after all.
Blaine smiled slightly. “Hm,… well,…”
He licked his lips, getting up from the bench he had been sitting on while he ate breakfast. His eyes were full of merriment, the way he got when whenever he was planning something that would probably get him into trouble.
“Don’t be ninny, Blaine. You either did or you didn’t.”
Blaine smirked. “Okay, don’t get your knickers in a knot. See I spunked,… but, um,… I didn’t wank to do it,” he muttered.
“You had a,… a,…” I tried to think of what it was called, when a boy ejaculated without touching his penis. It was in Blaine’s little booklet.
“Huh? Oh you mean a nocturnal emission?” He rolled his eyes. “Nope. Not this time anyway.”
“How then?” I demanded.
“Hm,… how to put this?... It’s was a hell of a lot of fun, that’s for sure. Only I’m really not sure if I should tell you.” Blaine looked around deviously. “Hey, they’re waiting for us, Allie,” he added as if trying to avoid answering any further.
Suddenly, I wasn’t sure about anything. It seemed like my whole world had been turned upside down by a couple of droplets. It didn’t make any sense, yet it did. It didn’t seem like that much of an achievement, yet it was. Blaine changed forever with a single ejaculation of semen. At eleven years old, spunk made all the difference in the world. It separated the men from the boys. It was the most important thing that could happen to a boy, at least that was the way it was talked about at school.
“What’s that supposed to mean? Why are you being so shitty all of a sudden?” I asked brusquely.
I started walking after him, following a bee-line approach to the toilet. We went directly across the cricket field to where Bruce and Byron were waiting patiently. I tried to pulled ahead to show my irritation, but Blaine kept up. Finally, he grabbed my arm. We weren’t finished talking about it.
“Slow it down at bit. Okay, I’ll tell you, but just remember what you promised Byron, Allie? From now on whatever happens, you can’t tell? Anyone? Not ever?” Blaine said pointedly.
I stopped walking. I nodded. “I don’t go around telling secrets,” I replied sarcastically.
“Okay, enough already. I’m sorry. See, I said I didn’t do it by wanking. I mean well, I did, but not really,… because,… see,… well, I didn’t do it.” He was trying his best not to giggle.
He smirked at me. “See, Allie,…” He took a deep breath. “Okay, if you must know, someone else did it to me.”
My dream was not a dream, but a dim memory of what I’d seen earlier in the morning.
“Byron,… He did that to you?” I asked curiously.
Guessing who, wasn’t a stab in the dark even if Byron had not been there when I woke up. It was the logical choice. It was either Bruce or his uncle, because common sense said it wasn’t going to be Dr. McIntyre.
My mouth dropped open. Blaine had a self-satisfied look that I didn’t much care for. I was dumbfounded. “I,…” I started to say ‘I don’t believe you.’
“Hey, you want to know something else, Allie.” He didn’t wait for me to answer. “See it’s sort of a tradition for us McIntyres.”
"Yeah…” He smirked again. “It is,... sort of, because,... see By did it to Bruce too for his first time.”
“No bull, Allie! He did it when Bruce was just about my age. As soon as he could spunk.”
“You’re making that up,” I rebuked heatedly. It made no sense at all.
“I’m not. You want to know something else.” His head came closer. “Bruce told me that dad did stuff with By when he was a boy as well,” he confided.
Blaine grinned. Despite how much I wanted it not to be true, I knew it was. There was no reason for him to lie about something like that.
The public toilet was obviously a substantial investment for the community, but that was only to be expected given that the park served both as the council cricket field every other weekend, and fairgrounds once a year. It was made of brick with a corrugated iron roof. Bruce and Byron led the way inside. There was a concrete urinal along one wall, a single cubicle minus a door, and a porcelain-white washbasin. The entry door could be closed but it was made of metal bars so there was no point in closing it. The smell was exactly as I expected. It was the same sour smell as any of the public toilets I used on the trip to Brindajari. I wrinkled my nose and tried to forget about it. The smell was awful, but I’d smelled far worse when the urinal plumbing didn’t work or the pans weren’t emptied on a regular basis. A dozen blowflies buzzed lazily around, making dives at the urinal. The smell didn’t bother them.
“This will have to do, but we better do it quick before the stink kills us,” Byron said with a grin.
“It isn’t the Taj Mahal of dunnies, that’s for sure,” Bruce agreed.
Byron held up a small glass bottle in his hand, swilling the nearly black contents around and around. “Okay, so who’s going first?”
“Him!” Blaine and I said at the same instant. Bruce and Byron laughed.
“They’re eager as a Kings Cross pro, aren’t they?” Byron remarked as he continued to shake the contents of the bottle.
“You promised you’d go first,” I said, glaring at Blaine.
“Did not,” Blaine retorted as he struggled not to laugh.
“Did too! A deal’s a deal.”
Bruce leered at his younger brother. I could tell he was about to extract payment from his sibling for some previous indiscretion.
“It sounds like you get to do Blainey’s knackers first, By,” Bruce sniggered.
Blaine gave his brother what might have been the ‘thumb’s up’ sign, but he jerked his arm. The obscene gesture was usually accompanied by ‘get stuffed’. Under any other circumstances Blaine would have taken off immediately, running as fast as he could to avoid getting whacked. Instead, Bruce smirked smugly.
“Like you really mind him feeling your balls, Blainey,” he sneered.
“Okay, Bruce don’t start. I don’t mind you picking on him, but not now. It’s time to get your shorts down and show us those cute little spunk makers you’ve got hidden away down there, Blainey,” Byron said with an authoritative voice that sounded more like an order.
Blaine glanced at me for moral support. I swallowed and stepped back out of the way. I was as far away from Byron and Blaine as I could get and still have a good view.
Blaine’s fingers slowly unfastened the cord at the front of his board shorts. He pushed them down a few inches, visibly reluctant to take them off.
“Do I have to take them all the way off, By?”
“You’d better mate, if you don’t want to get dye on them,” Byron replied. He settled back on his haunches, watching.
“Geez. Okay, but Bruce had better keep an eye out for anyone coming,” Blaine agreed plaintively.
Bruce didn’t wait for Byron to tell him what to do. He moved a few feet to the side, positioning himself so that he could see out the doorway, but he could also watch what was happening inside the toilet if he chose to turn his head. Blaine breathed out. Then, without further ado, as if he had been undressing in front of his uncle and brother every day of his life, he shoved his board shorts all the way down until they were lying on the concrete floor. He stepped out of them and shoved them away from the foul-smelling urinal with his foot.
“You still remember the routine, I expect. Get your legs apart, Snugglepot,” Byron instructed as he squatted down in front of his nephew.
I stared, feeling a strange sense of trepidation as Byron unscrewed the black cap from the bottle.
“You’d better pull your shirt up too, mate,” Byron added. “We wouldn’t want to get dye on it and have to explain it to your mum, would we?”
Bruce laughed. “You better hope she doesn’t come up to visit us with Dad, Blaine.”
“Don’t worry. She won’t. Not on this trip anyway. Your dad knows better than that,” Byron commented dryly. He sounded very sure of himself.
“Just my balls, right?” Blaine asked.
“Yeah. Anything else is optional, but I’ll do your cock too if you want me to?” Byron answered with a laugh. “But the first time you point Percy at the porcelain, everyone’s going to know you aren’t normal. It’s up to you.”
“No way, man.”
“Don’t sweat it. You ought to know the drill by now. Just keep your bollocks under cover and no one will ever know, except the three of us that is. Like before, it’ll mostly wash off before you go home, Blainey, and if it doesn’t, just make sure your mum doesn’t see you running around with your dick hanging out.”
“Okay.” Blaine smirked, looking over his shoulder at his brother, then back down to Byron’s head.
“If she does see it, what’s the story?”
“Um, I got stung by a bluey?” Blaine offered.
“Right on. Your dad will back you up. There’s nothing quite like some blue-bag for a blue-bottle sting. Hey, you’ve got some little fuzzies growing down here. I can see them now the light’s better.”
Byron looked up. I wasn’t certain, but it seemed as if he was holding Blaine’s genitals in his hand, playing with them much the same way that I did.
“Hey Brucie, your brother’s tool looks just like yours, only smaller. Yeah, it’s a McIntyre all right,” Byron teased.
I watched his finger poked at Blaine’s dangling penis. “It’s going to be a real donger in a few years, but right now it’s just perfect. If you know what I mean. Nudge, nudge, wink, wink, say no more.”
Blaine glanced over to me quickly. His face appeared to be reddening. I was glad it wasn’t me standing in front of Byron.
“Now, this is going to feel really cold for a few seconds, Snugglepot, so be warned. I’m using acetone as the base this time. It evaporates real fast so I’m going to do it quickly, but it spreads the colour more evenly. It might even sting a bit so just hold your breath.”
Blaine nodded, glancing again at me for best-friend support.
There was a little eyedropper inside the bottle. Byron squeezed the rubber bulb, filling the tube and carefully withdrew it. “You’d better hold your dong up out of the way.”
Blaine giggled and complied, taking hold of the end of his penis and pulling it up so that it reached towards his navel.
“Geez. Don’t pull the silly thing off, mate,” Byron joked. “I’ve got plans for that little fella tonight, and I bet you do too.”
Blaine giggled again and relaxed the pressure slightly, but it was apparent that he didn’t want to run the risk of getting any dye on his penis. His testicles were an entirely different matter. He watched intently, just as I did, as Byron deftly wiped the tip of the eyedropper over the loose folds of his scrotum. Wherever it went it left a dark, nearly black swathe. Blaine trembled.
“Not really. It kind of tickles. Man, it sure is cold enough.”
“That’s the acetone, like I said. It’ll make your balls shrivel up like a prune. It’s worse than ice water, but it’s so hot in here that it’s drying right away. That’s why I’m hurrying.”
And he was hurrying. The eyedropper moved back and forth, making up and down lines that began where Blaine’s scrotum joined to his body, all the way to the underneath where I couldn’t see. After a few more seconds all I could see was a nearly black lump instead of the little pink pouch that had been there less than a minute before.
“Nearly done,” Byron announced. “You’re keeping an eye out, aren’t you Bruce?”
“Yep. Too right.”
“They’re done. Feel okay Blainey?”
“Uh huh.” Blaine craned his neck to see past Byron’s head. “Geez, but they’re black, By. I look like some abo or something. You said you were going to use blue,” he observed.
He didn’t sound at all happy about the change in colour. Indeed, from where I stood, that part of his body did look a lot like the aborigine boys whose fathers sometimes worked for Brindajari.
“They are blue.”
“It wasn’t this dark last time.”
“That’s just how it looks when it first goes on. It’s the same dye I used last time. It’s what I use on the surfboards, only I dilute it with a bit less acetone. Don’t worry, Blainey. Most of the black will wash right off pretty fast. Hey Bruce?”
“Yeah?” Bruce was still watching for unwelcome visitors from his assigned post in front of the doorway.
“Get me some wet toilet paper, will you?”
“I thought it was supposed to dry first before you got it wet,” Blaine said.
“It is dry, mate. It dries real fast. That’s the acetone, like I said. It sinks in so fast that some gets left on the surface. It’s way better than using turpentine. That’s what I used last time. The only problem with acetone is not all the dye gets absorbed by the skin.”
Turpentine was good for getting out ticks without breaking their heads off, but it stung. I was glad that Byron wasn’t using turpentine.
Blaine waited patiently while his very amused brother scavenged a handful of toilet paper from the cubicle and brought it over.
“Cool balls, huh?” Bruce said with a smirk at me. “Yours are next, Bunny.”
“Ha ha,” I said sarcastically.
Byron wiped the wet toilet paper carefully over Blaine’s scrotum being careful not to smear the excess dye onto the untouched areas. Within a few seconds most of the blackness disappeared, replaced by a dark shade of blue. It was the same colour that even today is still my favourite colour. The hue was somewhere between purple and dark blue, a little darker than navy blue. The toilet paper dropped to the floor with a wet thud.
Blaine looked down, smiling. He was as fascinated as I was by what was happening. And what was happening was certainly not what I expected to happen. Byron was gently stroking Blaine’s penis. It was no longer dangling down like it had been only a few seconds earlier, but neither was it erect. However, it was noticeably bigger, bigger than it had been when Byron started applying the dye. And the smile on Blaine’s face was nothing less than unrestrained lust. I saw the very same expression every time we took our clothes off and played with each other’s sex organs. The last time was the night before. That look alone made me realise that he wanted Byron to do it, that he actually enjoyed his uncle touching him there. It was also apparent that if Byron kept doing it long enough Blaine would soon be erect. As I watched, his penis became both longer and plumper. There was a sense that they were sharing something special, mysterious, yet not unfamiliar to either of them.
Then, the rules of the game changed. I was shocked when Byron changed from gently stroking and began to rub up and down. Wanking Blaine. He was wanking my best friend in front of me.
Byron used the same slow motion that I did when I masturbated Blaine. It was the way he liked it. Slow, long strokes, from the tip all the way to the base, squeezing, but not too tightly. Very quickly, it got even bigger. In seconds, Blaine’s penis lifted up. Byron’s thumb rubbed across the bloated end. He tugged playfully, testing the flexibility or lack thereof, then enclosed it in his hand again and squeezed. Then faster, with his hand making jerking motions every time it pulled forward, trying to pull the skin over the head. I watched in amazement as Blaine’s buttocks clenched in. Already, he was close to the edge, to what Blaine and I called ‘the jerks’. His belly sucked in, trembling.
After less than a minute, his pelvis jerked abruptly. He strained forward, coming closer to Byron, closer than I wanted him to be. Byron’s other hand wrapped around his bottom, grasping both cheeks, hugging them. At the same time, Blaine uttered a muted groan, almost a whimper. They were standing so close that I didn’t see what happened after that. It was possible that something come out. After a few anxious moments on my part, Byron’s hand came away, reluctantly I thought. Blaine eased back a few inches so that he was no longer pressed up against his uncle’s shoulder. His penis was still fully hard, swollen and red, and looking like it was still ready for action. It bobbed up and down, eager for more. Maybe, just maybe he hadn’t had ‘the jerks’, but somehow I knew otherwise. The evidence, the little there was of it, was in the palm of Byron’s hand. Byron smiled. Part of what he said sounded like ‘you spunky little monkey’.
Blaine sighed and looked down at Byron. Both of us watched as Byron wiped his hand off on the bottom of Blaine’s tee shirt. His eyes flickered and he whispered something to Blaine that I couldn’t hear. I wondered what he was thinking. I knew what I was thinking. The last thing I would do would be to let my uncle do that to me, assuming I had an uncle. My family consisted of all of three people, my grandmother, my mother, and myself.
Only then did I realise my predicament. My penis was hard as iron. I could feel it sticking out into my board shorts, scraping against the stiff new cloth. That Blaine’s penis had stayed close to limp the entire time that Byron was putting dye on surprised me. Indeed, it was only at the end when Byron played with it that it started to get hard. Why did mine get like that whenever I saw a naked boy? It seemed to be happening to me increasingly often, but it was always hard when Blaine took his clothes off.
However, at that moment I was less concerned with why my penis was hard than with what I was going to do about it when the time came for me to drop my shorts. And that time was only seconds away, because Blaine was already bending over to pull up his shorts and Bruce and Byron were looking expectantly at me.
“Go on, Allie,” Blaine said as he started to refasten the front of his shorts. “I promise it doesn’t hurt. It’s just cold like he said.”
I stalled, silently praying that my erection would go away. All I had to do was wait long enough, and think about something else. However thinking about something else, anything else, was impossible. The three of them stared at me. Actually, Blaine and Byron stared at me. Bruce stared somewhere else. He looked right at the bulge in my shorts. There was hint of smile, a sort of ‘I know what you’ve got’ look. I felt my face becoming hotter, the prelude to blushing.
“You got to do it, Allie. That is if you want to join the True Blue club,” Blaine reminded me, as if I needed reminding.
I swallowed and glanced away. Bruce was openly smiling. He still looked like the Cheshire cat, smarmy and pleased with itself. I poked my tongue out at him, which only served to make his smile bigger.
“Come on, Cuddlepie, show us what you’ve got,” Byron teased. “Otherwise all we have to go on is Blaine’s description and the glimpse I managed to get in this morning.”
“Hey, from what I’ve heard it’s pretty skinny, but, skinny dicks are cool,” Bruce added, smirking at me.
I gave Blaine a contemptuous look. Obviously, he had told his brother and uncle what my penis looked like. Blaine shrugged nonchalantly.
“It’s just a dick, Allie.”
“You got that right, Snugglepot” Byron interjected. “All of us in here have got one.”
I glared at Blaine, barely hearing what Byron said after that.
“See, some are fat and some are thin, and then there’s the lucky ones that are big, but they all work the same way.” He hesitated, exchanging his sing-song voice for something serious. “If you’d rather they leave while I did it,…” he suggested, giving a casual nod to Bruce and his brother.
“It’s okay,” I muttered self-consciously.
“He’s just embarrassed because he’s got a stiffie,,” Bruce smirked. “Aren’t you, Bunny? Little Harding’s hard, isn’t he?”
“Very funny,” I retorted.
Why was Bruce always able to find a way to tease me? He wasn’t the first person to say ‘Harding’s hard’, but for some reason I didn’t like him saying it. I wanted him to like me, not to make fun of me every chance he got.
“Are you going to do it or not, mate?” Byron asked. He sounded impatient, but it was probably because he was still squatting on the floor waiting for me to do something.
“Yeah,” I muttered humbly. “I’ll do it, I guess,…. It’s just,…”
Blaine nodded reassuringly. We had done just about everything that two boys could do together since kindergarten. Why not this? I tried to convince myself there was no harm in it. The only problem was that Bruce would be watching. I wasn’t really worried about Byron touching my private parts, not unless he started rubbing it like he had done with Blaine’s when he finished. I wasn’t keen on that idea at all.
“Geez. Just take your duds off, Allan,” Blaine giggled. “We’ve all seen stiffies before now. Besides we’re going to be together for three weeks. You can bet it won’t be the last time they see your dong. It’ll be fun. Just remember that yours is going to be the same as mine.”
I glared at him. Then, something snapped inside me. My inhibitions disintegrated. What did it matter if they saw my penis, hard or soft. It was nothing to be ashamed of. Byron was right. Every guy had one. My hands moved to my waist and I began to unfasten the cord at the front of my shorts. I could feel my penis straining outward just an inch or two away. It felt like it was throbbing. All eyes were on me, even Bruce, who was supposed to be keeping watch. I undid the bow that I had tied so hurriedly that morning, opened the lacing just far enough that the front was loose. I pushed the cloth down an inch or two. I saw the pink tip of my erect penis begin to appear. For a second or two, I glanced around. I could tell that they wanted to see me naked, or half naked, because there was no way I was taking all my clothes off.
“You might as well get it over with,” Blaine sniggered.
With a bold shove, I pushed my shorts down my thighs, down to my knees, all the way down my legs until they bunched at my ankles.
Byron smiled. Bruce smirked. Blaine giggled. It was obvious what they found so amusing. My penis stuck out perpendicular to my body, straight out for everyone to see.
“Hm,… Now that is a nice one. Very nice, indeed. You’re a big boy, aren’t you Cuddlepie?” Byron observed. “Your dong is nearly as long as old Blainey’s, and he’s almost a whole year older than you.”
I grinned and quickly stepped out of my shorts. I was proud. What boy would not be proud? Suddenly, the three- eighths of an inch difference between us was nothing, although I wasn’t so conceited that I believed the size difference was noticeable only when our penises were erect they were side by side. There wasn’t a lot of difference when they were limp, not in length anyway.
Blaine gave another of his encouraging nods to motivate me to action. “Come on Allan, be a sport. I did it.”
Everyone was looking at me. I enjoyed being the centre of attention. I took one or two steps closer to Byron until I stood before him.
“Talk about a stiffie. Just look at the stiff little fella. At least you won’t have to hold it out of the way, will you mate,” Byron added. He winked up at me. “I better be real careful. This thing is stiff enough to do injury if he stabs me with it.”
I grinned down at him. He could be funny without even trying.
“Now,….” Byron looked at me, raising and eyebrow seriously. “Are you sure you don’t want your dick done as well as your balls? It’s no trouble,” he teased.
“No way.” I sounded adamant, but I almost gave way and laughed.
He laughed. “How about if I painted some GT stripes on it? I could make it into a high performance dick with no trouble at all.”
I shook my head. “No thanks. Just put it on my balls, thank you,” I asserted with glee.
“Okay. It would sure look nice though,” Byron chuckled. He examined my sex organs for a moment. “Just look at you! You’re all dick, aren’t you, Cuddlepie?”
Certainly, my penis was fun to play with, but as far as I was concerned, it was not all that much to look at. I far preferred looking at playing with Blaine’s.
“You know, if I just do your balls, there won’t be all that much to see, not with jellybeans for knackers,” Blaine went on. He laughed, poking his finger into my scrotum.
I tensed at his wisecrack, even though it was supposed to be funny. My testicles were a lot smaller than Blaine’s. It was something that he pointed out at great regularity. On a good day, meaning it was hot, my testicles hung no lower than halfway down my penis, to about where the brown line was on the shaft. BY contrast, Blaine’s testicles hung lower than the end of his penis. It was like looking at an hourglass, or Menzies. It wasn’t much different after we’d been in the surf for a few hours. Then, you almost couldn’t see mine at all because the skin wrinkled up so much that they were nearly pulled inside my body, while Blaine’s balls formed a little wrinkled hemisphere.
“So?” I replied haughtily.
“They’re small. Not that I have a thing against jelly beans.”
“So what’s the big deal?”
“Hm,…. There’s no big deal, boy-o, not when you’ve got a whopper of a dong like this one”, Byron answered good-humouredly as he gave my penis another playful tug. “It’s probably better that you do have small nuts when it’s this big otherwise you’ll be fucking your head off.” He laughed.
Bruce laughed as well. “Hey, By, he’s got a big pea-nus and pea-nuts. Pea-sized nuts, get it?”
Byron playfully poked at my balls again. “Don’t fret it, Cuddlepie. There’s nothing wrong with a boy having tiny nuts. From the looks of you it’ll be at least another year or two before your baby-makers kick in. Trust me, once you get close to starting puberty they’ll get a lot bigger. In fact everything starts growing once you can produce little Allan Juniors. Just remember that there’s no rush to grow up.”
I laughed without much conviction. For the last few months, whenever I made the obvious comparison to that part of Blaine’s body, my penis and testicles were nothing special. It was almost as if they were getting smaller rather than larger. Of course, I knew from Blaine’s book that when a boy started puberty, his sex parts started to grow in size compared to the rest of his body. I simply hadn’t made the connection, not until Blaine pointed it out to me.
“He’s a tight one, that’s for sure,” Byron said absently. His head moved closer, examining my penis close up. “Geez, just look at that, will you? Man, whoever did him did it way down. It’s damn near halfway down his dick.”
“What is?” Bruce asked.
I tried to look down, but Byron's head was in the way
“Where they cut him. Poor kid. No wonder the skin is really stretched. Here, see.” Byron leaned back so that Bruce could see.
“Huh?” I muttered, finally looking down. “What's the big deal?”
Byron was still examining my penis when he said, “Nothing, mate. No big deal.”
However, he still made it sound like something was wrong with me. I didn’t understand what he was talking about, except that it involved my penis. The only thing that was unusual about it was that the skin became very tight when it was hard. As far as I knew, it had always been like that. It was so tight that it made the helmet-shaped head on the end swell out. While the head of my penis was smaller than Blaine’s, mine was much more prominent.
“You know, I heard somewhere that it's sometimes done like that to keep a boy from wanking,” Byron observed. He had what my grandmother would have called a sadistic streak.
“Really? You're kidding, right?”
“Hell no. I'm beginning to think it might be true. I mean, look at it. The poor little guy’s barely got enough skin left to wank with, so maybe.”
“It doesn't seem to bug him because he wanks even more than I do,” Blaine giggled.
“Do not!” I retorted, although it was a close call.
“Hey, you want to know something else, Bruce? There’s not a hair to be seen on him, not a single one,” Byron continued in his assessment of me. “Man, is he smooth.”
“You’re joking?” Bruce replied.
“No! Fair dinkum. There’s not a hair below his head, Bruce. He’s as bald as a bloody bandicoot, not that I’ve ever really seen one, y’know.”
“Me neither,” Bruce agreed with a laugh.
“There’s not even any fuzz on his legs, at least not that I can see. Hey Cuddlepie, are you sure your mate's not a bandicoot?” Byron asked Blaine. He started running his hand slowly up and down my leg. He seemed to enjoy touching me.
“Hey Bandicoot,” Bruce taunted. “From where I’m standing, the view is even better than I expected.”
“I’m not s-some stupid b-bandicoot,” I protested.
“Let up, Bruce. Man, you’re a smoothie, all right,” Byron said admiringly.
“So?” I demanded.
“Hey, it's cool. I’ve got to say this so don't get pissed, okay? It looks like you shave your legs. You don’t do you?” Byron teased.
“No!” I nearly shouted. I glowered at him.
Byron laughed. “Well, if you ever want to borrow a razor, just ask okay? Only I figure it won’t be any time soon.”
I couldn’t help but glance over at Bruce. He met my eyes and smiled quickly. I had the distinct impression that he already knew that I was much smoother than his younger brother, although I had no idea why having hair or not having hair was important. All I knew was that I liked being the way I was.
[Author: However, the truth was that even at eleven years old, the thought of getting hair on my body was not as appealing to me as it was to other boys. It was to become even less appealing as I grew up. It was about three years later, when fuzz finally became so noticeable on my legs that I tried to shave it off. I ended up cutting my leg so deeply that I needed a dozen stitches.]
Looking back, Byron’s hand was probably the first hand other than mine or Blaine’s to touch my erect penis. I couldn’t even remember my grandmother or mother touching it when it was limp, although I am sure they did to bathe me. My fear did nothing to ease the stiffness of my erection. After a minute or so of being scared out of my wits, it slowly became very enjoyable as Byron gently caressed my genitals. He seemed to know exactly what to do to make me feel good all over. His technique was different to how Blaine did it. Byron’s fingers squeezed my testicles lightly while he fondled my scrotum. I trembled whenever he pressed in, or tugged gently.
Then, without more warning than smiling up at me, his thumb stroked along the side of my penis a few times. My erection quivered. It was weird. Part of me wanted to push his hand away. The other part of me liked it a great deal. It was like being touched by Blaine, but somehow even more illicit. My body tensed, waiting, wanting, hoping that he would keep playing with it. However, that was not to be. His hand pulled away, although it seemed to be almost reluctantly. He licked his lips and sighed. Then, he glanced up at me. I nodded back at him, giving him the go ahead. It went without saying that whatever Blaine did, I would also do. In response, he carefully filled the eyedropper again and began to work. I looked down to watch, but mostly his head got in the way. I couldn’t see very much, just a few glimpses of his hands and the pink bulb of the eyedropper.
It was cold, exactly like Byron said it would be, but for some reason it also felt hot. In fact, I felt hot all over. It was a strange sensation, feeling that eyedropper prodding, then rubbing against my scrotum, spreading the dye around before the acetone evaporated. I turned slightly and caught Blaine’s eye. He grinned and raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. From where he was standing, he could see what I could not see. So could Bruce. He smiled as well, gazing intently as Byron’s hand moved around and around underneath my penis. I tried harder to look down and see what he was doing.
“It’s not hurting is it?” Byron asked.
“Uh uh.” I shook my head as well.
Another glance at Bruce. Why was he grinning at me? He was supposed to be keeping watch. I had a mental image of someone, the farmer with the tractor perhaps, barging into the toilet to relieve himself, catching me stark naked and with blue balls. I could almost hear his dogs barking loudly outside. I shuffled and pulled back anxiously.
“Geez, will you stop moving around,” Byron remarked with a flip at my unyielding penis. He sounded serious. “It’s hard enough getting it right without you squirming around.”
“Sorry. I’m just trying to see.”
I shifted feet, still thinking of the farmer outside. If he came in,... A sideways glance at Bruce revealed that he was staring right at where Byron’s hands were working. I looked down, but again, all I could see was the top of Byron’s head.
“At least you don’t have to worry about holding your dong out of the way,” Byron quipped. “You’re as stiff as a board.”
He was right. I couldn’t remember my penis ever being so hard that it actually ached. It had become very hard when Blaine sucked it, but it was nothing like this.
“Is it almost done?”
“Nearly mate. Just hang on for a few more secs! I still have to do the last little bit to do underneath your dong and I’ll be done. Then, you can have a gander at my artwork. I reckon it’s a masterpiece. Maybe we ought to enter you in the Royal Easter Show,” Byron joked.
I decided not to look at Bruce, or Blaine, because all they did was smirk. It wasn’t that funny. Instead, I looked at the urinal and tried to read the inscriptions that had been clumsily incised into the cement-rendered wall. I was certain one of them said ‘Willis sucks cocks’. I looked away, then back again, and wondered who ‘Willis’ was.
“You’re going to be quite a stud in a few years, even with your tight skin. You’re a lucky boy, kiddo. You know that, don’t you?” Byron observed.
“Huh?” I muttered.
“Your dick is pretty long for a boy your age. Hell, your balls haven’t even dropped yet and you’ve already got damned near four inches.”
I wasn’t about to tell him it was closer to three and half. Every boy knew that when it came to dicks, bigger was better than smaller, and the key measurement was length. Later on, I would discover the advantage of having a thin long penis, but at the time, I didn’t realise that I was lucky in that respect, having length rather than width.
“In a couple of years from now it’ll be a real bewdy! You’ll end up with seven or eight inches, I reckon. A real joystick,… or a fanny teaser if you’re inclined to waste it.”
I had no idea what he was talking about. What did he mean that my ‘balls hadn’t dropped yet? When I thought about it, I suddenly realised that it hadn’t been all that long ago when I first noticed that Blaine’s testicles hung much lower than mine. Logically, that could be accounted for by sheer weight. His testicles were larger than mine.
“Is that big?” I asked guilelessly.
“Ha! Is that big? Man, you’ll put the three of us McIntyres to shame, kid. Of course, I reckon it’ll always be a skinny one, at least from the look of it.”
Blaine giggled. “Allan’s got a skinny dick.”
“There’s nothing wrong with a thin one,” Byron interjected. “So it’ll be more like a frankfurter than the six-inch sausages we McIntyres have, but it’s still worth eating.”
I couldn’t help feeling proud. For years, since I became aware that penises were special, I looked at other boys. With only the evidence of my own eyes, it seemed that my penis was going to be as long or longer than Blaine’s. In fact it was only during the last few months that I fell behind. It was when we started comparing the size with a ruler, when size suddenly became important to Blaine, that the difference in size became noticeable.
“So if it’s going to be a frankfurter when he grows up that means that right now it must be a cocktail frank, huh?” Bruce guffawed. “Only harder, of course.”
I glowered at him. Bruce made fun of me every chance he got. Cocktail franks were only about two inches long. The longest one I’d ever seen was all of three inches. I felt disparaged, wishing my erection would go away. Fortunately, Byron stopped putting the finishing touches on his masterpiece and gave my erect penis a friendly squeeze before he picked up the wad of damp toilet paper.
“Maybe it is a cocktail frank for now, but there’s a reason why they serve them at parties,” he joked. “They’re tasty little buggers. That’s right, isn’t it Blaine? You like cocktail franks from what I heard this morning.”
Blaine giggled and nodded, even loudly smacking his lips. Then, he formed them into a ‘o’ whose meaning was very obvious. I hated him for that, but only for a few seconds. It was difficult being angry with Blaine for very long.
Then, Byron’s hands moved out of the way. He had already wiped off the excess dye with the toilet paper. For a few seconds I really couldn’t see anything different. My penis was still standing up, or out, because mine was of the type that pointed straight out when I was standing. The undeniable truth was that it was thin, just as Byron said. It was long and thin and shiny-tight. It was like a finger crowned by a small cherry, only not as red. I had to bend my head down to see what Byron had done to me.
The chilling effect of the evaporating acetone had tightened my scrotum up so that all that was left was wrinkled dark-blue skin and two little lumps to show where my testicles were. However, that part of my body stood out like the proverbial ‘dog’s balls’. Just as it was impossible not to notice Menzies’ balls because they hung down so far, so too it was impossible not to notice mine. The dye made a dark, nearly black circle. It covered my entire scrotum to the very edge, making a precise line. I wasn’t sure if I liked it or not. It looked very strange.
“Okay! Now you’re really true-blue, Harding,” Byron pronounced.
“Yeah, he’s a true-blue bunny,” Bruce added with amusement.
Blaine smirked. “It looks pretty cool, Allie, you got to admit. Just don’t let your mum see it or she’ll have a tizzy.”
There was a funny side to it, I suppose, but I couldn't see it at the time. Suddenly, I felt very exposed before them. I felt threatened even though they were smiling. There was a nagging sense that I had done something I shouldn’t have done. The fun, if there was any to begin with, was completely gone. I looked at the door guiltily, wanting to get out of the toilet as quickly as possible. My excitement deflated like my erection.
“Can I get dressed now?” I asked edgily.
By then, Byron had come to his feet. He gave me a surprised look, perhaps because of the tone of my voice, which was antagonistic to say the least. However, he shrugged nonchalantly, as if there was nothing wrong with what had just happened.
“Sure. Unless you want to go the rest of the way to Coff’s like that, mate.”
Byron gazed at me, silently assessing my bare body. His attention focused on my crotch, making me feel very exposed.
“It's your choice, Snugglepot, but it’s a hell of a long way to go with a bare bum. The way I see it, it’ll be a hell of a lot more interesting with a naked boy sitting in the back seat. Hey, maybe there'll even two of them, huh Blaine?” he added with a meaningful glance at Blaine.
I wanted to tell him that I wasn’t naked, that I was still wearing a shirt, and my thongs, but I didn’t. What was the point? Still, I deliberately pulled the bottom of my shirt lower as I went over to pick up my board shorts. At least my private parts were covered.
“Hey, nice bum there, Bunny-boy,” Bruce called out when I bent over. He added a wolf whistle for good measure, just in case I wasn’t embarrassed enough.
I turned around, backing up against the wall, keeping bent over so they couldn’t see anything while I put my shorts on again. Byron whispered something to Blaine, who smirked knowingly back at him. I wondered what was going on, certain that they were talking about me.
“Hey, you guys go ahead,” Bruce said abruptly. “I need to take a whiz.”
I finished tying the lace on my board shorts as Byron came over to the urinal. He turned away from me to make sure that the others were gone. By then, Byron and Blaine were already out the door enjoying the fresh air and sunshine.
“You’re true blue now, Bun,” he said quietly. His eyes met mine. He had a tendency of doing that, looking right into my eyes until I felt funny inside. “That means you’re one of us now.”
“J-just so l-long as I c-can learn how to s-surf,” I said sourly.
He nodded. “That's the deal. I can teach you a lot of what you need to be a good surfer, you know. Between me and Byron, you can be really great, if you want.”
He still hadn’t looked away, but then neither had I. It was like a competition, staring each other down. I wasn't about to let him win.
“I w-want,” I said simply.
He changed the topic like he hadn’t heard me.
“You have nice eyes, you know. They’re really blue,… just like your balls,” and then he smirked.
My face grew hotter. I glared at him. “Very f-funny,” I snapped.
Bruce breathed out slowly. A few seconds passed. Still, our eyes were locked. I wasn’t going to give in. No way. I could be like that sometimes. My grandmother called it single-minded. I preferred to think of it as being determined.
“No need to get all shitty. It'll wash off before you go home.”
“I'm n-n-not. ” I couldn't bring myself to say 'shitty'.
“Okay. Jesus, it fucking stinks in here, doesn’t it.”
He said the ‘f word’, the only really bad word that I’d never heard him say before. And the way he said it, conspiratorially, as if saying ‘fucking’ would somehow bring us closer together.
“It’s a d-dunny. It isn’t s-supposed to s-smell like roses,” I reminded him.
I wondered what it was that he wanted to say, because he was definitely delaying saying something. Was it important? He laughed, which bothered me because nothing I said was ever that funny. There was something else that bothered me even more. It had to with the way he kept looking at me. It was unnerving.
“Yeah, it is, isn’t it. Silly me. No wonder it smells like shit in here, huh.” Then, he gave a feeble laugh. A few seconds went by with him still looking at me. “You’re pretty cool for a kid.”
“You're cool about what just happened, aren’t you? I mean…. I guess I thought you’d be uptight or something.”
I shrugged ambiguously. I wasn’t frightened, yet for some reason I still trembled.
“W-what’s t-there to be uptight a-about?”
“Most kids your age would be scared shitless if it happened to them.”
I was about to respond, but I stopped to breath deeply. It was supposed to help stop stammering according to a boy in my class who stammered non stop.
“They’re just b-balls. I g-get them painted about once a m-month,” I said. It was uncharacteristic boldness for me. Until then any reference to my sex organs was hardly a source of amusement.
He laughed loudly. “Oh man! You’re a funny bugger, aren't you?”
“What's s-so f-funny?”
“I can just see your mum doing that. Getting out the paint brush and painting your knackers….”
“Nana m-more likely.”
“Right on!” Bruce laughed again. He paused. “Actually, I wasn’t thinking about that, but hey, you were pretty cool about it, come to think of it.” He hesitated again, still studying me.
“W-what then?” I demanded.
“Hm,… if you must know, I was thinking about what Byron just did to Blaine.”
“You m-mean p-playing with his d-dick?” I asked curiously.
“Yeah. You aren’t jealous, are you?”
I hadn’t thought about it in those terms, at least not until Bruce brought it yup. I gave a small shrug that wanted to be ambivalent. At the time, I had been too upset to think about it at all. Now, my thoughts raced ahead.
“W-what’s there to be j-jealous about?” I asked. It wasn’t what I wanted to say.
Suddenly, I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. Perhaps I was jealous. My mind was in chaos. Only a few minutes earlier I had watched a man doing something to a boy that he wasn’t supposed to do, and I stood by and watched it happen. I wasn’t that innocent. I knew it was wrong, even if Byron was his uncle. Blaine and I played with our penises often enough, almost non-stop sometimes, but we were boys and it was always in private. We did it in bed, whispering furtively. It was never with other people watching.
Bruce shrugged nonchalantly. He didn’t say anything. Maybe he was glad to let the subject drop. Maybe he felt awkward because he didn’t say or do anything at the time, and as Blaine’s older brother, he was supposed to protect him.
Like me, Bruce was wearing board shorts. I watched, not really interested while he got ready to use the urinal. It seemed rude to leave him. Besides, my intuition argued that there was a lot more that we needed to talk about. His hands moved to his front and he began to untie the cord. Only then did I see the pronounced bulge in the front of his shorts. Blaine was right. It was huge. It was like a thick vertical bar that reached almost to his belly. Like a stunned mullet, I watched his hands come ever so close to that bulge, his nimble fingers moving deftly with the ends of the cord to get the knot out. Then, the front of his board shorts opened an inch or two. I couldn’t look away. The bulge seemed to push the sides away, like it was trying to escape.
“Well, you’ll see more than wanking while you're with us, that’s for sure mate,” Bruce said quietly.
He seemed to enjoy that I was watching. He smiled slightly, moving his hands away. I saw something that looked like a plum peering from opening in his shorts.
“I guess you might as well get used to it sooner as later.”
“Huh?” I muttered dumbly.
I couldn’t look away. Why did I want to see Bruce’s penis so much that I couldn’t move my head? My eyes were glued to it. I tried to decide what it was that I could see protruding through the opening. If it was the head of his penis, it looked nothing like mine, or Blaine’s. For one thing it was much darker. For another thing, it was much larger than either of ours, vastly so much larger than anything in my experience, that it was difficult to believe it was a penis. At the time, all I wanted was to catch a glimpse of the rest of.
“Remember what By said in the car?” Bruce said with a hint of mystery.
He paused, waiting until my attention was restored. Did he smile? Did he? I shuffled my feet. It took all of my concentration to stop staring.
“Huh?” I murmured.
“Do you remember what he said about guys doing stuff together and not telling anyone else about it?”
“Y-yeah,” I answered nervously.
“Well,… see what he and Blaine just did, mate,… it’s one of things he was talking about.”
“Y-you mean w-wanking?”
Bruce laughed. “Yeah, wanking,… that and some other stuff.”
He watched me to see how I would react. I managed to shrug in response. I could help but wonder what ‘other stuff’ consisted of. One thing was certain. I knew he was talking about sex stuff. Was it possible that Bruce was referring to what Blaine and I had done the night before? Was Blaine going to do that with Byron as well? It was so farfetched that I put the thought aside immediately.
“Hey, you don’t have to answer this okay? Not if you don’t want to.” He gave me plenty of time to answer. “You and Blainey do stuff all the time, don’t you?” he asked teasingly. I glowered back at him in response. “It’s no big deal. Every boy does it, Bunny. When I was your age, I spent half my energy surfing and the rest wanking.”
“I suppose I’d better do what I’m for, huh? Either that or By’ll have to stop for me to have a leak in a couple of miles.”
With that, Bruce extricated the biggest penis I had ever seen through the open front of his board shorts. It was still erect, just as I knew it would be. It was thick and reddened, and the head was shaped like Blaine’s, like a fat plum that was wider than the shaft below. I stared, trying to take it in. At the base, there were a mass of curly dark hairs, not quite what I expected, but then I’d never seen an adult penis before. The brown ring, about a third of the way down his penis, was darker than the one on Blaine’s penis. He felt it between two fingers and a thumb and stroked the shaft once or twice. As he did so, I saw the underside. There was a thick wrinkled line that protruded down the length. It looked like someone had stitched up the centre of his cock. Then, he winked at me.
“Ah, now that I see I have your complete attention….” He smiled shamelessly at me. “This is your lucky day. You’re looking at the famous McIntyre sausage, Bunny,” he announced proudly. “This is it!”
I giggled. Blaine acted silly too about his penis, like it was important or something to be proud of.
“It might only be six inches long, but it’s plenty thick enough to keep any fanny happy.” He waved it up and down a few times, then from side to side. “Over here girls. I’m in here,” he called out gleefully. “I’ve got a surprise for you ladies. It’s time to get fucked by an expert.”
I giggled. At eleven, the ‘f word’ was enough to do that, but the teasing way he said it was funny as well. He might as well have been saying it to me and not to some make-believe girls waiting outside the toilet. Finally, he turned around and faced the urinal. I watched his back, watched his arms, all the while keeping an image of that huge penis in my mind while I heard the splattering of his stream against the polished stainless steel wall.
“Man, I needed this,” Bruce sighed and stretched his back. It was exaggerated, but every male does that when he has an audience.
After a few seconds, I couldn’t stand the silence, not when there was something I had to know. I could never talk to my mother about sex. The last time, the only time I asked about my penis, she sent me off to read the Encyclopaedia Britannica. For the world’s best encyclopaedia, it was nest to useless as far as sex was concerned. Blaine was as much help. In fact, there was only one person I could ask and he was standing in front of me.
“Um,… you d-d-don’t think it was w-wrong,… w-what Byron did?” I blurted out.
“You mean about him wanking Blaine? Did you see Blainey complain?”
“No,… b-b-but, that doesn’t m-mean,…”
“Then, the way I see it, if was he was cool with it, it’s okay,” Bruce interrupted. “Listen Bunny, we’re guys right?”
He glanced over his shoulder, no longer urinating, shaking off. I nodded to let him know I was paying attention.
“You don’t see any girls hanging around right now, do you?” he asked.
“No,…” I ventured. I didn’t understand where he was going.
“If there were, do you think By would have done it?”
“I,… I g-guess,… It’d be different then.”
Bruce laughed. He turned around. His erection had diminished, but his penis still had the half-erect look, veiny and bloated. He flipped it casually, getting my immediate attention again. He smiled at me and I quickly averted my eyes.
“Trust me, Bunny. When guys are by themselves, they have to do something to have fun. It doesn’t mean they’re poofters. It just means there are no girls around. You do stuff with Blainey, don’t you?”
“That’s d-different,” I said uncertainly.
“Is it? I don’t see either of you with girlfriends. Hell, you probably don’t even know what a girl looks like down there.”
I gave a passing thought to Katie Tattersall, to the one and only time I had seen her naked down by the creek. There was almost nothing to see. She looked like a boy, just rounded and pale where my penis was. She kept her thighs pressed closely together. I couldn’t even see how she managed to pee when she squatted down.
“You don’t have a girlfriend, do you Bunny?” He didn’t wait for me to answer. “I thought not. So you and Blaine make do with each other. You wank each other, right?”
I nodded slightly. Was I sharing a secret? I decided I wasn’t because he already knew from Blaine.
“Okay. Don’t get embarrassed but I bet you like doing it too. You do, don’t you?”
I frowned, trying to shake my head in denial. Instead, I gave a nervous twitch.
Unceremoniously, he stuffed his penis back inside his board shorts. I continued to watch from the corner of my. I was very aware of how big it was. It was impossible for me not to look at it and make the obvious comparison to my own small penis, or Blaine’s penis. Even, I much preferred Blaine’s penis to his brother’s, which should have been warning in itself of what was in store for me. Still, my predilection for young boys aside, the first time I saw Bruce’s penis it made my penis hard. Yes, it was hard, as hard as any penis could be, but fortunately for me it was hidden behind my shorts. I had no idea what caused it to be erect, yet I watched until Bruce’s penis was completely hidden from sight. Naively, I thought that I wasn’t going to see it again for a long time.
“Don’t worry, you don’t have to answer, Bun. The thing is, see, it’s no different when he does it with Byron. Getting wanked by someone else feels awesome. It’s a hell of a lot better than doing yourself.”
“Except he’s g-grown up,” I said boldly.
Bruce raised an eyebrow. “What if I did it to you? Would that be so bad? I’m only a few years older than you.”
What did he mean, ‘if he did it to me’? I swallowed. I had to say something. “S-six!” I reminded him. It sounded more like ‘sex’, which a standing joke between Blaine and I.
Bruce smirked knowingly. “True enough, sport. But you know something? Six years isn’t all that much. Heck, my dad is six years older than Mum.”
I wondered how much older my father had been than my mother. I knew very little about him. Other than those few times when I overheard my mother and grandmother talking about him, he was never discussed. I had not heard very much. He was just out of Uni and my mother was still in high school when they met. He came to Brindajari for a summer to work as jackeroo (station manager in training). He stayed through the winter. It was a cold July day in 1957 he was on his way into Dubbo with my grandfather to arrange for a marriage license when the accident occurred. I eventually figured out that was why I had the same surname as my mother and grandmother. In some circles, I would have been called a ‘bastard’. Instead, in the social circles that my grandmother moved in, I was ‘an-out-of-wedlock child’ because my father had died in a car accident before he could marry my mother.
I gaped at Byron. What he seemed to be saying was that I had witnessed was okay.
“Don’t worry about it. Geez, being wanked off by someone else is nothing. If that’s the worst thing you see,….” He stopped, turning his attention to retying the front of his board shorts. “Don’t worry about it, Bunny. Trust me, Blainey is into it just as much as Byron. Despite what you might think about you and him being best friends, it wasn’t the first time that’s happened and it sure as hell won’t be the last either.”
“M-maybe,” I relented.
I could stop thinking about it. ‘It wasn’t the first time’, resounded in my head. And then I remembered more of what happened in the bedroom that morning. Blaine certainly had the look of enjoyment on his face at the time. To make matters worse, I wanted it to Blaine’s first time with anyone besides me. However, intuition told me that it wasn’t the first time that Byron masturbated him. Bruce only confirmed it.
Somehow, everything changed. Blaine was my best friend, and until recently, we shared all of our secrets. I wondered what else he had done with Byron. I had a sinking feeling in my belly as I realised how often Blaine had taken the lead in our secret games, especially in what we had done the night before. Until then, the last thing that would have entered my mind was to put another boy’s penis in my mouth. Every sixth grade boy at Edgecliff knew the expression to describe it, but I never put the words ‘cock sucker’ together with the deed required to become one.
“D-d-don’t you m-mind?” I asked curiously.
“Me? I’m for sure not worried about it. Not one bit. Geez, guys your age mess around all the time.” He waited to see my response. “Heck, Allan, I even know you sucked Blaine’s dick last night.”
“Because he shouted it out!”
“It’s no big deal as far as I’m concerned. But you know something? No one else cares, least ways Byron doesn’t care. It’s not like you’re bum-chums or something.”
He smirked. I gulped. ‘Bum chum’ was another word for ‘poofter’.
“Not that it’d matter if you were,” he sniggered. “Now, your mum might have a tizzy if she found out what you and Blaine were doing when he stays overnight.”
I thought about denying that anything happened when Blaine stayed at my house for the night, but there was no reason to. That secret was out for certain. I glowered at Bruce. He shrugged ambivalently, his expression, ‘like I care’.
“The thing is, see, sex is no big deal, just so long as you don’t tell someone.”
Bruce glanced around the toilet to make sure nothing was left behind. He turned back to me.
“The way I see it, Bunny, sucking someone off is no different to wanking them when you get down to it. Sex is all about having fun and feeling good.”
The words churned relentlessly through my mind. I had never thought that what I was doing with Blaine was having sex, not even when I sucked his penis. We did ‘stuff’. It was sex that made babies. Sex was what poofters did. What Blaine and I did together was,… ‘stuff’. It was fun, that was all. It was something that boys did together in secret.
“Yeah w-well he t-told y-y-you, and B-Byron,” I returned bitterly. I was still angry about him doing that.
“Yep, but we’re different see. We’re true blue, just like you are now. You’ve even got the blue balls to prove it,” he jibed. “We’d better get back to the car.”