Date: Fri, 14 Jul 2017 16:40:15 -0500 From: G Jones Subject: Ken and I - Part 19 Before diving in to the next part of the story, I just wanted to say thanks again to all of you that have sent me your positive feedback and encouragement to keep writing. I appreciate you taking the time to do that! While I find a certain sense of self satisfaction in writing, it's also satisfying to hear from readers that are enjoying the story. As I've mentioned in my responses to a few of you, the story is a mash-up of some personal experiences, characters based in part on some of the kids I knew, all tied together with a healthy dose of fiction. While I might have fantasized about it, my own experiences weren't nearly as rich and I certainly wasn't as well spoken as Martin comes across at times. I hope you continue to read and enjoy. And please donate to Nifty! They're awesome for making this free! And it's a lot of work to maintain! So, on with the next part. Ken and I - Part 19 The first week of summer holidays was pretty basic, and honestly, I didn't really mind too much. Sleeping in every morning was an easy habit to fall into. My parents thought I should be getting up and out to enjoy the summer, but with them at work on weekdays it wasn't really an issue for me to ignore that. It's not that I wasn't enjoying myself, it just maybe wasn't in a way that they imagined (or wanted to think about). Like all of my nights, my days consisted of masturbating whenever I felt like it. And since I had the run of the house during the day, I could do it wherever I was when the mood struck me. If I got horny at the kitchen table or sitting on the couch watching TV, I could just lower my shorts and work myself into orgasmic bliss. I just hoped I'd adequately wiped down whatever my jizz splattered onto so that I wasn't leaving anything behind. In my room, I generally didn't care, and mom had never said anything about my sheets or clothes. I had hoped to really start reconnecting with Ken, and Jamie, during the first week. But those hopes were dashed on the first day when I saw them loading up their car with luggage. "Hey!" I called out to Ken. "Oh hey", Ken replied, "what's up?" I grinned, "That's just what I was gonna ask." "We're driving out east to visit my grandparents." "Oh cool", I said, hoping that I had disguised my disappointment, "how long you going for?" "About two weeks. They've got a little farm so it's usually pretty cool with all the animals and stuff. Plus this year grandpa said I could drive the tractor by myself!" "Sounds like fun." "Maybe we could go for a bike ride when I get back? Or something ..." If it hadn't made me look like a desperate idiot, I would have jumped and shouted with joy! I took this as a further sign that Ken was definitely ready to work on patching up our relationship. Maybe I should've jumped and shouted to let him know that this is what I wanted too. Especially the "or something"! For whatever reason, I had decided to play it cool, or as cool as a nerdy 14 year old could muster. "Yeah, for sure ... sounds good." Ken's father shouted for him to get back to the house to finish up so that they could get on the road. "Well ... I guess I got to go." "Yeah, okay ... so ... have a good time, see you when you get back!" Ken said he would and had started to turn to his house, when I realized that I actually wouldn't see him. In a week I was heading off on my own trip to visit my friend Daryl. "Oh hey, I forgot ... I'm gonna be away then. I'm going ...", I hesitated for a moment; I'd never really talked to Ken about Daryl before, and wasn't sure exactly what to say. I think in part I was feeling a bit of guilt; even though Daryl and I weren't friends in the same way Ken and I had become, I knew I had those thoughts about Daryl. "I'm flying to see my friend Daryl. I don't think you met him, he moved away last year. He was ... is my friend from the last school I went to." "Oh, okay ... wow, that's cool you get to fly! Are you going by yourself?" "Yeah! Pretty exciting, but I'm kind of nervous too ... never flown before." "Me either. Sounds pretty cool though. How long will you be gone?" "Two weeks. I leave in two weeks ... so I guess I'll be back two weeks after you're back." "Okay, well ... I guess we'll do it then." Ken grinned. If Ken was disappointed that I wouldn't be around when got back, he didn't show it. Not that I'd shown it when he told me he was going away. "Okay cool then. See yah!" "See yah!" Ken said and headed back to his house just as his father yelled for him a second time. I had started walking back into my own house. So it was going to be a whole month before I would see Ken again. That was pretty much half of the summer holidays! A lot could happen in a month; I just hoped that Ken would still be as eager to get back together then. To cheer myself up, I had decided to focus on the "or something". Even before my imagination could start running wild, I felt myself getting hard. Walking in the back door, I had been about to cover myself with hands when I remember that mom and dad had gone shopping that Saturday morning. Smiling, I had started to rub the front of my shorts, letting the good feeling spread throughout my lower belly. I had walked into my room and almost unconsciously had decided that I would strip and watch myself in the mirror. There was something about watching myself that I found really erotic. I guess it was a way of satisfying a voyeuristic desire even though I wasn't watching someone else. I peeled off my t-shirt and unbuttoned my shorts to let them fall to floor. In my mind, it was Ken that was stripping me. I had felt my dick twitch and a small string of precum ooze from the tip. I watched in the mirror as I had reached down and rubbed the precum under the head and along the bottom of my fleshy shaft. I had stifled a moan and then remembered that I was alone. On the next stroke I groaned out lout, the sound of it turning me on even further. Slowly I began to let my hand run up and down the full length of my cock, making sure to let the palm rub fully around the head to pick up the next ooze of precum. Soon my dick was glistening with it, and I imagined that it was wet from Ken's mouth. I had been able to practically picture Ken on his knees in front of me, his mouth working my shaft and his tongue running all around the head. I can't remember how long I had stood there watching myself and imagining Ken, but I do remember the intense feeling in belly and groin as ropes of my hot young spunk started flying from the tip and splashing against the mirror. The sound of my jizz splattering against the mirror and dropping onto the floor continued to fuel my orgasm. I had continued to stroke my cock even after the last wave of cum had gushed out. Within minutes I felt the tightening of my balls and several more streams of my teen semen surged from my dick, mostly splashing down into the mess I had made only moments ago. I had felt thoroughly spent as my body began to relax from the intensity of the orgasms. Despite the disappointment of Ken leaving for vacation, it was a great feeling on which to begin my summer break from school. Over the course of that week, the mirror had been become an important part of my routine. The second week of my summer break played out very similarly, with two notable exceptions. The first was that I had started to think more about my trip to see Daryl. Not just from a "what should I bring" point of view, but more so from a "what might happen" point of view. As I thought about Daryl, a flood of memories began to course through my brain. We became friends on the very first day of the third grade. My family had moved over the summer and I was the new kid at school. I was paired at a desk with Daryl, a light strawberry haired boy with pale blue eyes, freckles and mischievous grin. Where I was a shy and quiet boy, perhaps even a bit withdrawn, Daryl was my opposite: loud, forward, and a bit of brashness to go with that mischievous smile. During first recess Daryl had a million questions for me: where did I live, where was I from, why did we move, did I have siblings. We quickly discovered that we lived in the same apartment building and Daryl immediately decided that we would walk to school and home together. It wasn't even a question for him, just a statement of fact. I liked his matter of fact manner; it suited me since I would never have been so bold and I was happy to have made a friend so quickly. True to his word, we walked home together that day, back to school the next day, and everyday from that day on. After school we would hang out in the playground or ride our bikes around the neighbourhood, or down the monkey trails that crisscrossed the woods behind our apartment building. Daryl was a bit of daredevil on the trails, or at least that's what it seemed like to me; where he was sure and confident, I was timid and careful. But he never made me feel bad about it, and over time with his encouragement I became a pretty good rider and was able to keep up without being afraid to fall off my bike which had happened quite a bit when we first started riding together. About a month after we first met Daryl invited me for a sleepover. I was almost nine years old, and had only been a few sleepovers when I was younger. I was both excited and nervous, not really knowing what to expect at a sleepover with Daryl. Mom packed pyjamas, clean underwear and my toothbrush into a bag, and off I went. Not really far to go since Daryl, his mom, younger brother and older sister lived only a couple of floors above us. Daryl shared a room with Mike, his six year old brother, but since his sister was going to be away that weekend, we were going to stay in stay in her room so that Mike wouldn't bug us. After dinner the three of us played some games until it was time for Mike to go to bed. We stayed up for a while longer, continuing to play and then watching a bit of television before Daryl's mom said that we should get ready for bed. She said we could stay up and talk in bed if we wanted, but that we had to keep it quiet. We went to the bathroom to brush our teeth; Daryl finished first and without giving it a second thought stepped over to the toilet, pulled open his pants and started to pee. I'd always peed in private; at school, the mall or anywhere public I always felt more comfortable using a stall than a urinal. I hadn't meant to stare, but it was so unexpected that I found myself looking. I immediately noticed that unlike mine, the nub of his wiener didn't have any skin over it. It was maybe an inch long and stuck out straight above his little sack. He noticed me looking and just grinned at me as he shook it and stuffed it back in his pants. I finished brushing and was relieved that Daryl left the bathroom so that I could pee in private. Back in his sister's room I pulled open my bag and took out my pyjamas. I had meant to go back to the bathroom to get changed, but his mother had gone in right after me. Daryl started to take off his clothes to put on his own pyjamas and I started feeling awkward, although I wasn't sure if was because I was still just standing there with my pyjamas in my hands or at the prospect of getting changed with Daryl in the room. I was practically paralyzed when Daryl simply asked if I wasn't going to get changed too. I took a deep breath, realizing it would now be more awkward if I didn't and started to pull off my shirt and unbutton my pants. By this time Daryl was already down to his underwear. We both wore white briefs, which as an aside is a poor choice for boys as there always seem to be yellow stains from not quite shaking off the last few drops. Taking a deep breath, I pulled off my pants and turned to the side. Part of me wanted to turn right around before dropping my underwear and pulling on my pyjamas, but for some reason I also wanted to see Daryl's wiener again. We pulled our briefs down at nearly the same time and I noticed that Daryl was looking at me. Without pulling on his pyjamas he walked over to me. "Hey, your dink looks different than mine." Again, in that matter of fact voice that he always used. I surprised myself, and I think Daryl as well, as I looked at him and said, "Yeah, I've got skin on my mine, it's called foreskin." He seemed fascinated, and in an uncharacteristically bold move for me I pulled back the skin to show him the head of my wiener. "See, underneath it's the same as yours." "It's bigger too." And I guess it was; where his was quite short and stuck out straight above his little sack, mine hung down along the front of my sack and was probably twice as long as his., around two inches. Daryl thought that was cool and for a moment I almost expected him to reach out and touch it, but he looked a bit longer and then pulled on his pyjamas and I did the same. There was nothing particularly sexual about our brief compare, just kid stuff really, but for some reason I couldn't explain, my heart was pounding and for the rest of the night until we feel asleep I kept picturing my best friend naked. The other exception to my week had been that I had gone on a bike ride on my own, and without thinking much about it, had ended up on the trail out to the boxcar. It was the first time I had been out that way since the last time with Ken. I hesitated for a moment, trying to decide if I was going to walk to the boxcar or not. I couldn't think of a reason not to, so I stashed my bike and headed down the rest of the trail. As I got closer I could a voice; actually two voices. I knew some of the older kids came there in the evening or at night, but this was the middle of the afternoon. I was curious about who was here, so I headed off the path into the bush and among the trees. I realized I had ended up in the very same spot where I'd seen Jamie watching Ken and I. Not wanting to be seen the way I'd seen Jamie, I crouched down so that I could stay partially hidden by both the tree and the bush next to it. I'm not sure what I expected to see, but when I looked towards the boxcar I saw two older kids, a boy and girl. I guessed they were maybe 16 or 17, but I didn't need to guess that they hadn't expected or wanted anyone to be watching what they were doing.