Date: Sat, 27 Jun 2009 01:37:25 +1000 From: Bradley Danaher Subject: Catching Matt This one happened to me at camp back in year seven. At our school everyone has to go away for a week in year seven to some cabins in the forest up near the mountains, to learn survival skills and stuff about the environment, but mostly just to muck around with your friends. I wasn't a bad kid in year seven. I'd had just come to the school and was liked by enough people. The whole camp thing scared me just a little bit though, but knowing I was with my friends quickly got rid of that fear. It'd been a tough day for me, the second day of camp and the activities were really starting to get into full swing. We'd been hiking in the forests around the cabins for most of the day, and then tried out the ropes course. Tomorrow, we were setting out on a three-day expedition that would take us around the entire property owned by the school on foot, as well as camping in a different location each night under the stars. Strangely, I couldn't wait. As after every tough day at camp, we needed showers. There were only three showers in the block next to the boy's cabins. Well, there were four, but the last one wasn't working. The cabins weren't anything special, just wooden structures that blended into the leafy hillside surrounded by forest, lifted up on stilts off the undergrowth. The exposed grain of the wood was left to silver, and the whole place gave off an ambience of the peace that came with time and solitude. With just three showers and a group of about fourteen boys needing to use them, there were bound to be some problems. No matter, we just took turns. For a while, the tiny shower block became packed with steam, boys, dampness and the endless shuffling of bare feet as bodies tried to make it past others, to take that much-needed shower and get the whole ordeal over with. I decided to wait. Pushing and shoving was not for me. I sat in the cabin that I shared with three of my friends, with a book and read and waited until all my roommates were back. It was now just fifteen minutes until lights out, but it didn't worry me. I wouldn't take longer than that to finish taking my shower. Upon entering the room, the steam hit me immediately; a wall of thick, humid air. I held on to my clothes and towel as my feet squelched on the wet floor. There were sinks and toilet cubicles to the left, and a urinal further on. To the right was the alcove where there was a length of bench, some hooks above it, and four showers facing them. A window was open to help the steam clear, and a cool breeze swept in and chilled my bare arms and legs. I noticed one of the shower curtains already drawn. What's more there was another squelching sound, other than my thongs, and a quick, sharp breathing, accompanied by short, deep moans. I had a pretty good idea of what was going on. After all, I was thirteen, and I figured that whoever was in there shared a common interest with me, and many other boys in our year level, who were all just coming into that age. The question was: who was it? I ran through every boy in the class. It couldn't be any of my roommates, they'd all returned from their showers already. Pity, I thought, it would have been funny if it had been Dan in there. I could've blackmailed him, or at least given him shit over it. I wasn't all too sure why I'd been so disappointed that it wasn't him. What made him different from any of the other boys? I guess he was a pretty striking boy. He was taller than most others, which immediately got him noticed, but he wasn't a big tank or a giant, or lanky in any way, just taller. It made him seem older, and that made him stand out from the other boys and girls in our year. But, anyway, it wasn't Dan in there, so who was it? I approached the showers, and I could hear the squelching sounds get louder, and the soft moans began to echo off the tiled and wooden surfaces. It never even occurred to me that privacy, humiliation, shame or any of those things should have interfered in this situation. All that mattered was that I found out who it was in there. I was also secretly glad that I had finally found someone who shared my hobby. Of course, I knew everyone did it; I just never got to see how, or where. I had so many questions. That's what this was about: discovery. And so, without hesitation, but with a hand shaking from nerves blended with adrenaline, and with a stiff rod in my shorts, I stepped up on the bench and leaned over the three-quarter wall of the shower stall. My toes dug into the grooves in the wooden slats for support, while I tried to keep my head as low as possible, only raised enough that I could just see. It was Matt. Green eyes, fair skin, blonde hair left slightly long, he was the stereotypical thirteen-year-old boy. Except maybe if you saw what he was doing now. Facing the left wall, those green eyes trained down, that fair skin dripping with water from a shower that had been turned off, and the blonde hair matted and soaked, he was pumping eagerly at his hard cock, which was, of course, all that I was interested in at the time. It was about one and a half times as big as his hand, so about five inches, maybe a little more, which I guessed was normal, but I only had myself to compare with. Matt didn't even see me, he was so engrossed. One hand glided skillfully up and down his shaft, occasionally running his fingers over the smooth round tip. The other hand traced circles over his wet chest, and as his fingers brushed his nipples he lifted his head, his blonde hair dripping, and let a small, satisfied sigh escape. I watched intently, admiring his technique, until a moment later, when he took his slick, sticky hand off his shaft, brought it to his face and hungrily ran his tongue across his palm. Only then could I see that Matt's meat was already covered with the white liquid that I was so familiar with. He had obviously already cum earlier, and was using it as lube for his next attempt. What's more, it hit me; he had just licked it off the palm of his hand! This was a bit too much for me, and my feet slipped a bit. I tightened my grip on the top of the wall, but my knee bumped into it before I could stop myself. Matt looked up in shock, his smooth, boyish chest rising and falling to the quick rhythm of his excited breathing. Nicely rounded arms and a defined body with muscles evident under the last of his baby fat, and perfect hard nipples made Matt look amazing in the cubicle at that moment, his hair and skin still gleaming and wet. His eyes were filled with fear, one hand still wrapped around his cock, and the other frozen across his chest. I ducked down, I didn't think he had time, or saw enough of me to recognize me. What must be going through his mind, I thought. Not only had he been caught jacking, but using his own spunk as lube, which I guess was okay if Matt had been getting desperate, but then to lick it off! That was another thing. I quickly ducked into the next stall on the right and ran the shower, not wanting to think about what was happening in the next stall. Apparently, being caught out had excited Matt even more instead of deterring him. It wasn't long before I heard the series of short, throaty grunts and scarcely-suppressed cries that were the universal signal that the boy in the next stall had just blown a second load all over himself, the shower floor... his hands... his smooth stomach... who knows. I shut my eyes but couldn't fight off the image of Matt just two feet away licking his palm again, just like before, savouring the flavour of his own young seed. I was already hard, and I had been for some time. As I soaped up my body, I let my hands wander across my dick, feeling my fingers run over the tip like I'd seen Matt do. Behind my closed eyes, the image of him doing the same thing gave me a jolt of excitement. A cold breeze blew in through the open window, swirling the steam around the cubicle, and I felt the skin across my chest tightening in response. Hesitantly, I brought a hand to my chest and brushed a finger, then two over each of my nipples. I'd never done that before, I had never thought of them as sensitive in the same way as my cock. My hand was stroking at a pretty fast pace now. Already, I could feel the cum rising in my groin. I took a deep breath, and slowed my hand down as well. As my chest heaved, I pictured Matt one more time, his wide eyes filled with excitement and fear, the look he might have had on his face as he grunted out that second load. What if I'd done it at the same time, and we were moaning, stroking and shooting our loads onto the same shower floor just a metre apart? What if he'd looked in on me, knowing that I was in here? What would I want him to see... if he was watching me now? That was too much. I pumped harder as the feeling grew, and a low cry escaped my lips as I let three blasts of my boy spunk hit the tiles. My eyes still closed, I felt the warm cum dribble through my fingers and drip onto my legs and feet. I couldn't quite bring myself to taste it afterwards, though, as much as I wanted to. By the time I finished showering and dried off, got dressed and left the stall, Matt was already gone. I checked his stall, and he had cleared any evidence of what he'd done there. I climbed into my bunk that night feeling awkward and not knowing what to say to Matt the next morning. But did Matt even know it was me who caught him? If he did, he probably wouldn't say anything about it. Maybe he'd think I would tell, and that he would get in trouble. Conflicting emotions troubled my young mind that night, and I was left to fall asleep to the rhythmic breathing of five others in my cabin.