First of all, a huge thank you to those who have been taking their time to send me an email. It really means a lot for me to get feedback, even if this is a story that has pretty much been set in stone from the get go and will be until I finish writing it.
I do my best to keep it interesting, building up peaks and not dwell too much on ordinary life stuff. However, this story is loosely based on my own real experiences. Stuff one might think is irrelevant will be addressed. All of it has been part of the mold that has shaped me into the person I am today. Both my sexuality and otherwise. Some bad stuff have happened to me and I have, regrettably, done bad things to others. I’ve paid my dues for what wrong-doings I’ve done, only it doesn’t feel like I’ve paid enough in my own eyes. I have learned my lesson. Please don’t let it happen to you!
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Anyway, here is the next installment of the story:
- or how I became what I am today.
Andy, and how he came along.
I admit, I’m taking a huge leap forward in time here, I knew Henry intimately until shortly before my 15th birthday. During that time we did a lot of different things together, which I’ll tell you more of later. I also got to know other boys intimately during my youth, and I’ll tell you of my experiences with these boys too. But right now, I have to put my poor boy to bed. He has cried himself to sleep and it breaks my heart seeing him like this.
Andy, the weeping boy, now rather the sleeping boy, is what I hold more dearly than anything I’ve ever owned. Of course, I don’t own Andy, he’s not a slave after all. But he came from my loins, one single sperm cell out of millions made him. Thinking back on my life, I’m quite surprised how I ended up having a son. I would have thought I’d be with some stud of a man with a big cock or perhaps a young guy looking like he was all of 12 years old.
Instead, I met the mother of Andy when I was 26 years old. It was quite a chance meet. At the time I was a corporal in the Danish National Guard. And as a corporal, I was the squad leaders second in command, which meant I’d be handling squad issues when the sergeant couldn’t. We had a new recruit who had just come through the background checks. I was to call her and find out when she would be able to pick up her uniform and gear and of course sign the contract.
As it was the first time I was to do this, I was quite nervous. I mean, I had been through a pretty tough course for NCOs before I got my two stripes, but nothing that really prepared me for this. Add to this, I’ve never really been comfortable around women. But I called her that afternoon, leaving a message to call me back. She didn’t call back until later in the evening, around 7:30 PM. She was so excited, you’d think she had won a million bucks.
We talked a bit back and forth, I was trying to make her tell me when she could come to the depot to pick up the stuff. And she was constantly telling me what a nice, warm, deep voice I had. She said stuff like that a number of times while I tried to stay on track, but I gave in and thanked her for the compliment. Oh, she laughed at me. Telling me that she had said it so many times that she thought I was either dumb or just extremely professional.
We ended up talking 5 hours, including having phone sex. Of course I didn’t tell my squad leader this. There are more than a few husband/wife or boyfriend/girlfriend constellations in the National Guard, but I don’t think they started exactly the way my relationship to Michelle began. We met at the depot and afterwards I drove her home to her small flat. As buttoned up as I was around her, just as relaxed she was.
She asked me if I would mind her taking off her blouse, as she usually did that when she lounged at home. I thought she would at least be wearing a bra, and as it was her home, I told her to just get herself comfortable. So she shrugged off both blouse and bra, sitting in the sofa topless. I haven’t really had much interest in the opposite sex, just the thought of the monthly bleeding have been enough to have me stick to my own gender.
But somehow, we ended up in her bed, having sex. I won’t go into any specifics here, but I did enjoy her company as well as the sex. And she did too apparently. We ended up going steady for about six months, although it wasn’t without difficulties. I lived quite a distance away from her and having a fulltime job made it hard to spend time with her except from the weekends. We had a weekly meet in the squad though, and after that was over, we’d head back to her flat and have sex.
Most of the times I wore a rubber, but as time went on we kind of skipped past that. We weren’t planning on having a child, at least it wasn’t a priority of mine, and I really expected that she was on the pill. However, one evening she called me and said she was two months pregnant. That was too crazy a conversation to have on the phone, so I drove the more than 100km to her arriving at 10PM. None of us really wanted a baby at this stage in life.
But, as we discussed it further, we ended up painting this pretty picture, with mom, dad and kid in it. To say that it isn’t what it ended up to be, is an understatement. As it was, the only thing Michelle and I really had in common, was our shared fondness for sex. We even had a few sessions where one of her male friends joined in. Both Michelle and I got thoroughly fucked those times. But with the baby on the way, I’m sad to say I was losing interest in Michelle.
I think reality slowly punched its way into my mind, and when I had finally come to my senses, I sat down and talked to Michelle. It wasn’t a pleasant conversation. She was of course upset and talking about me abandoning my responsibility. In turn I kept saying I’d live up to my responsibility, that I’d want joint custody and pay child support and much more. Finally we came up with some kind of agreement.
She would be the primary caretaker of the child in the first few years and I’d able to come by and spend time with the baby either at her flat or take it out on walks. And later on, the child would be spending more and more time with me, until it would be close to 50%. That meant one of us would have to move so we’d live closer to each other. Neither of us wanted to be the one moving, so in the end we made a compromise. We’d both be moving.
We found two townhouses on the same street in a small city around halfway between our current homes. When we moved houses, I helped her as she was by then 8 months pregnant and moved around with the grace of a drunk elephant. Both set of grandparents helped too, so it didn’t take more than a day to put stuff in boxes, boxes in a van and boxes into the new place. Of course I had to listen to her parents giving me shit, but my parents stood up for me.
And Michelle also pitched in, finally shutting her parents down by saying it was a mutual agreement. By then, we had been told the sex of our child, suddenly cutting away half of the names we wanted to call our offspring. I wanted to name him Charlie but Michelle thought that had too much to do with the military, being part of the phonetic alphabet. She wanted to call him Christian, which to me was just too royal and too widely used. We each put 5 names in a bowl and she drew the name Andy out of it.
It wasn’t one of my suggestions, but I kind of liked the sound of it. So Andy it was. And Andy came out into the world in the middle of the night on the 4th of May. Of course I was in the room when Michelle gave birth, and even if I didn’t love his mother, I instantly fell in love with my son.
First time into real trouble.
Henry and I started spending more time together, we didn’t have sex every day, keeping to the schedule we started out on. So it was mostly Tuesdays and Fridays we spent 15-20 minutes where he’d suck me and I let him fuck me. Sometimes I’d just suck him off after he did me. If I hadn’t been able to poop during the lunch recess, I refused him access to my butt. He tried more than a few occasions to make me change my mind, saying that I could just go then.
I didn’t want to be fucked when there was a risk of poop coming out or clinging to the dick. Even if I was a smart kid, I never thought of giving myself an enema back then, which would have made it much simpler. However, I so loved it when Henry literally begged me to let him fuck me. It made me feel special and wanted.
Sometimes I’d egg him on by placing my foot in his crotch and get him all worked up and then saying he’d have to leave. Or if I was at his place, that I’d have to go home. Most of the times I’d give in and let him have his way with me, but a couple of times I’d leave him hot and bothered and only in the company of his right hand.
One rare evening where Tom and my mom and dad were all at the bicycle union, club really, I was home alone with Henry. We had sex, of course, but after that and the movie we saw afterwards was done, I saw him out to the door. I had only bothered putting on my underwear, but wanted to keep talking to Henry in the driveway. I didn’t want anyone to see me only in my underwear so I put on one of the aprons from the kitchen.
I’m not sure why I did that, but I’ve probably figured it would be better than standing out there being next to naked. Henry thought it was hilarious and after a little fighting he managed to pull down my underwear. Instead of pulling them back up, I just stepped out of them and walked a bit around in the driveway with only this stupid apron on me. My naked butt hung out for all to see, if anyone had been there that is, and my erect dick was pushing out the front of the apron.
We talked for a couple of minutes, giggling and acting like 6 years-olds until Henry finally got on his bike and left. Before I managed to pick up my discarded underwear and get safely back inside, disaster struck.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, you little pervert?” Tom yelled loudly as he entered the driveway on his bike.
I had a blush all over my body as I nervously fumbled with my underwear trying in vain to get one foot into the leg hole. I hopped around on one foot and the darn underwear was as if it had come alive. It did everything it could to prevent me from putting it on. I was too busy to notice Tom had put the bike up against the wall of our house and had advanced on me.
“Oh no, these stay off, baby brother,” he said, as he took hold of my underwear and yanked them from my hands. He then grabbed me by my neck and pushed me towards the open door of our house. Inside the kitchen he closed the door, never letting go of me.
“Let go of me! It was just a silly game.”
“I always knew you were up to no good. First Casey and now Henry. And god knows who else,” Tom leered at me, “just wait until I tell mom about this.”
“No, pleeeease don’t tell mom,” I begged of him with tears in my eyes.
“I am so going to tell her. Maybe she’ll understand I’m not the devil of this house. That it’s really you! Her little baby turns out to be getting it on with all his boyfriends.”
“I didn’t mean to.”
“But you did. Take off that silly thing.”
I didn’t want to, this wasn’t like Henry, where I deep down wanted to, but wouldn’t admit it to myself. This I really, really did not want to do. But Tom was so much older than me and so much stronger too. This time I wasn’t behind my door with its lock, safe to laugh at him with no fear of retaliation. But I wasn’t about to just give up.
“I won’t take it off. You just want to see my junk.”
“Oh, please. I’m not interested in your baby cock. Mom and dad wears that apron when they cook. I don’t want your piss on the food. Take it off NOW!” He said the last four words slowly and sternly while shaking my body from one side to the other.
So I did. I simply undid the strings around my neck and then the ones around my waist. The apron fell to the floor.
“Hmm, I guess your cock isn’t all baby after all.”
“I knew you just wanted to gawk at me. Who’s the pervert now?” I spat out at Tom and put my hands on top of my dick shielding it from his scrutinizing look.
He didn’t say anything. Instead he marched me into his room ignoring my loud protests. As he closed the door, he propelled me onto his bed.
“I don’t want this,” I hiccupped softly.
“But I do. You’re going to suck my cock.”
“NO, please, I don’t want to.”
“So, my cock isn’t good enough for you, is that it?”
“I don’t suck dicks.”
“I already know you do, I just want to see if you’re any good at it.”
“I’ll be the judge of that. If you do well, I won’t tell mom.”
“Will you suck on mine?”
“Heh, oh no, I’m not the pervert. You are.”
“I’m not a pervert!”
“Whatever. Suck it and I won’t tell. If you don’t, I’ll tell mom you fuck Casey and Henry. Oh and maybe that you tried fucking Walter too.”
“I’d never do that to Walter.”
Walter was my dog. Well, he was really the family dog, but in my eyes he was all mine. I walked him, sometimes, and he loved me more than anyone else. At least I like to think that. On the other hand, he hadn’t tried to rescue me from Tom. Even if he once bit him when we had a fight. I mean Walter bit Tom, when Tom and I had a huge fight. Unfortunately it wasn’t a serious bite, he only held onto Tom’s ankle long enough for me to scurry away from Tom.
I might have been interested in sex, but not with dogs. At least until then. I hadn’t really thought of it. Nah, I decided. Now, that would have been just plain sick.
“But mom would believe me if I said it,” Tom pointed out.
I kind of felt sick having to suck off Tom, why should I give him pleasure when he was such a twat to me? It wasn’t like I owed him anything either. Stealing his weed that one time and being a pest of a little brother the rest of the time, didn’t justify this.
“Okay,” I sighed, “I’ll do it, but just this time. Only once. Never again!”
“Right little bro,” Tom smiled and pulled down his bicycle pants to about the middle of his thighs.
If you don’t know, bicycle pants are worn without underwear. They are made from lycra or spandex and nylon, real tight and have a cushion of sorts that is meant to protect your balls and butt from the saddle. I say meant to, because your butt will ache no matter what you do if you ride long enough. But it also makes you sweat down there between your legs and cheeks. Which I was about to experience up close and firsthand. As if being forced to suck off your older brother wasn’t bad enough on its own.
He told me to sit on the edge of the bed and then walked up in front of me, bringing his snake like dick in close proximity of my face. I have seen more than my fair share of dicks over the years. While Tom’s wasn’t one of the bigger ones I’ve seen it certainly wasn’t the smallest either. And at that tender age I was back then, it was the biggest so far. It filled me with envy as it stood straight out from his body at 45 degrees, completely straight.
I thought Henry’s prick was big, but his was a child’s prick whereas Tom was nearly an adult. And his dick was every bit as adult as the rest of his body. It had a big bush of dark hair, his balls were massive and the length and girth of the dick itself was just wow. The foreskin was pulled back and the dick bobbed up and down.
“Go on. Suck it.”
After a very brief moment of pondering my options and finding none other than just to get it done as quick as ever possible, I curled my lips over the teeth and took in the glans of his dick. I had to open my mouth wider of course and even if it was a bit more of a struggle I managed to close my lips around his head. Tom gasped at the sensation. I smiled on the inside, knowing all too well the great feeling of having your dick, even if only the head, inside a hot, moist mouth. On the outside I didn’t let any emotions show.
I could clearly tell that Tom’s dick wasn’t exactly clean. So I gathered as much saliva in my mouth as I could and quickly swirled that around the dick head in my mouth and spat it out onto his floor.
“Don’t you know how to wash your junk?” I asked him.
“Just suck. Don’t talk.”
Well, at least the taste was a bit better now, so I blocked out the fact that I was sucking on my big brothers dick. I actually think I did an okay job even if this was a man’s dick and I had to come up with a different plan of attacking it. I couldn’t really get much more than the head inside of my mouth before the gag reflex kicked in and violently too. So I alternated between just having the head inside, running my tongue all over the smooth head and kissing/sucking on the rest of the shaft mostly the underside of it. He really seemed to enjoy my fierce sucking, like I was a human vacuum, just underneath his glans where the string is.
I could probably have given him a hickey right there, if I had wanted to. Would have been poetic justice if I had actually injured his dick under the cover of bringing him pleasure. But as I sucked him off, I was successful in ignoring that it was my brother standing in front of me. And because of that, I only thought of making him cum in the most delightful of ways to cum. At least he only stood there, hands by his side, passively enjoying what my mouth was doing to him.
Passively yes, quietly not so much. He was really moaning, ooh’ing and aah’ing and oh yeah’ing. Sometimes muttering positive remarks, “just like that, oh yeah.” I tried not to pay attention to all of that, but failed rather miserably at it. Even more so when he started calling me Karen.
“Oh yeah, Karen, you’re so great,” he’d say. What the fuck was this? His really stupid blonde girlfriend wouldn’t know how to do this, and I was actually getting more than a little angry at him.
So I sucked in a bit of his foreskin between my teeth and bit down. Not hard, just a nip, but enough for him to feel pain.
“Ouch, don’t bite me. You little creep!”
“Then stop pretending I’m Karen, asshole.”
“Fuck you, I can’t get off in the mouth of my twelve years old brother for Christ sake!”
“You better cum soon though, cuz mom and dad will be home soon.”
“Then suck the head while I jack off. But no more biting!”
I put my lips around the tip of his dick and played with my tongue below his pee slit while he grabbed hold of his shaft and started the motion every boy, 5 years and older knows. His cum came in volleys and he held onto the back of my head with his left hand while he pumped out even more cum with his right. Making sure I got every last drop of it in my mouth. When he finally released his hold on me, I flew off his bed and into the bathroom.
I spat out his cum into the sink, briefly awed by how much there was of that vile stuff. It ran into the drain and was quickly gone since I had by now opened the cold water tap. Switching from sucking dick to sucking on the faucet came naturally as I wanted even the slightest taste of cum rinsed out. If I had thought Henry’s cum was bad tasting, Tom’s was by far worse. After a minute of rinsing out my mouth, I still felt like I could taste it, so I brushed my teeth twice using a lot of tooth paste.
Done with that, I realized I was still naked and went in search for my underwear. I couldn’t find it in the kitchen, there was only that damned apron laying on the floor. I swore loudly and kicked at it before going to my brother’s room. Only to find the door had been closed.
“I want my underoos back,” I shouted, as I kicked at the door.
“Go to hell, twerp,” Tom yelled back.
“Look who’s talking!”
I heard him getting out of his bed and the loud footsteps as he ran to his door. But before he even got it open I was halfway down the hallway. I was inside my own room with the door closed and locked, before he could reach for the door knob. Now he was the one kicking at a locked door.
“Don’t EVER fucking call me that again or I will fuck you up so bad you won’t be walking for a year. You hear me?” He yelled furiously before stomping back to his own room, slamming his door so hard I feared my own would fall off the hinges. I shrugged. What can you do?
Our parents came home twenty minutes later none the wiser. I heard the car in the driveway, then them entering the kitchen. They went to the bathroom one at a time before I heard the door to their bedroom close softly. I heard the pitter patter of Walters paws in the hallway and the slight impact his body made as he laid down. The house fell silent.
It took me a little time to wind down enough to go to bed. I didn’t dwindle too much on the blow job I had been forced to perform on Tom. It was just one of those nights where you get too warm under the covers, then feel like you’re slowly freezing to death without them. The next morning I was woken by the alarm clock and really felt sick. I couldn’t make it out of bed but fortunately I had a waste bin in my room, and it was right next to my bed.
I threw up into the bin and afterwards I started to cry. I’ve always hated throwing up and this time I really dry heaved a lot only getting really small amounts of bile up. I was sure I’d never make it, but at last I managed to climb on top of my bed to unlock the door and open it. In a weak voice I tried calling for my mom, but she was in the kitchen and I couldn’t raise my voice high enough for anyone to hear me. I think my mind just switched off.
Slowly I woke and my mom was sitting next to me, talking sweet things in my ear. Next to my pillow was a bowl with water and she was gently wiping a really cold sponge over my forehead and my cheeks.
If I had been more aware of my surroundings at that specific point in time, I wouldn’t have been all that calm I think. When my mom wants to have fun at my expense, she usually tells the story of what happened when I got sick with the measles.
She came looking for me when I didn’t come to the breakfast table as usual and when she opened my door, she found me laying naked on the bed. I was curled up in the fetal position with my head in the foot end of my bed (From when I had unlocked and opened the door). She could smell I had been throwing up and as she felt my forehead for a fever, I was burning up. I didn’t wake up as she moved me into the right position on my bed.
I didn’t even flinch when she inserted the dreaded rectum thermometer, nor when she had my dad pick me up and hold me while she changed the bed linen. That by the way was soaked with sweat. I only woke after two and a half hours had passed, during which she had been sponge bathing me nonstop with a mix of water and alcohol. She had been thinking of putting me in the bathtub with cold water, but I was getting a bit too heavy for her on her own.
She was so happy for having kept one of my old plastic sheets as that meant she could put a wet wash cloth in between my legs to get my temperature down. And she thought my penis was so cute all shriveled up and small as it was, due to the coldness. Oh and not to forget the look upon my face as I suddenly realized I had the thermometer up my butt. Yeah, it’s even more embarrassing when my mom tells it to her friends.
But the way I remember all of this, is like I said, I woke up and my mom was putting all this really freaking icy cold stuff on my face. I was too sick to make much of a fuss, even when I looked down my body and saw I was laying there in front of my mother wearing absolutely nothing. I mean, she hadn’t even covered up Mr. Happy. Which by the way, was anything but happy at that time. It felt like I had pack ice in my nut sack and my nuts were desperately seeking the warmth from my body, trying in vain to return up the tubes they had once descended from.
Had I been able to, I would have blushed as I realized I had what felt like a pencil up my butt. I knew instinctively it could only be a thermometer. I didn’t really want to dwell on it, but I then thought about how it got up there. My mom would have had to either lift up my legs, like she used to when changing my diapers, then hold up the legs with one hand and with the other shove the thermometer up my asshole. Or she would have pushed me onto my side, spread my cheeks and then shove it up there.
As it was, I was already pretty hot, not only in my face, but all over. I really wished I’d either pass out again or simply die right there and then. Anything to get rid of being sick. I swear my head hurt so much that even just opening my eyes hurt. The sunlight shining through my window felt like daggers poking into my eyes. I tried to shield my eyes with my arm, but my mom wouldn’t have it. Instead she put a wash cloth over my eyes and closed the curtains.
“I know you’re hurting sweetie,” Mom said, “I called the doctor and he should be here soon. We’re fairly sure that it’s the measles you have, but we need to be certain.”
“Oh no,” I sobbed, “Blanket over me, he here?”
“You want a blanket over you when the doctor’s here?”
“Of course. He may have to examine you all over though. So he’ll see you anyway.”
“You’ll get some pain killers once the doctor is here. They may help on the fever too,” she said and then exclaimed, “Oh lord, I nearly forgot. I’m sorry honey.”
She asked me to roll over a bit so she could get the thermometer out. I did and at last, the bloody thing was gently removed. I’d much rather have a dick up there than a thermometer, but sex was the last thing on my mind that day. All I could think of was how everything in my body seemed to ache. Even if it was one single hair in my eyebrow, it hurt. I was also really thirsty and I had this yucky taste of bile in my moth from when I upchucked earlier that morning.
At last the doctor arrived. I heard the car enter our driveway, but to my poor ears he might as well have arrived by helicopter. That would somehow have made it cool. Or maybe being whisked away in an ambulance at high speed with sirens blazing and police motorcycles escorting it. While Henry was plowing my butt and Tom choking me with his long cock. Okay, I was maybe not thinking all so clearly at the time.
The doctor came into the room with my mom, of course I hadn’t been covered up. At least it was the family doc, so I knew him vaguely from the checkups and vaccinations I’d gotten over the years. I tried to pay attention to what he said, but he was talking so softly to my mom that I couldn’t really hear much of it. I heard my mom saying that I had a temperature of 39.9C, which is almost 104F. The doctor said something about the cleverness of my mom to leave me naked and to keep cooling me down.
Then he asked me a couple of questions while prodding my body in places that really no one should touch and it all hurt. It took maybe all of five minutes before he said that it indeed was the measles. That I would probably not want to leave my bed at all for about 4-5 days, which was just fine. I would start getting a rash within the next day or two that would spread to most of my body and that I was not to scratch it even if it would itch like hell.
I could use a soft towel to rub on the places that itched the most, but I should be careful not to scratch so much I’d start to bleed. If all else failed, he actually suggested my mom to buy a pair of mittens for me to wear. They left the room while still talking and I didn’t hear more of the conversation. My mom returned as I heard the doctor leave in his car. She asked me if I thought I’d throw up again if I had a sip of water and a pill.
“Don’t think so.”
“I have a glass of water here, and a pill. Don’t drink too much, just enough to get the pill down.”
I took the pill and put it in my mouth. It didn’t taste good so I quickly took a sip of water using a straw and swallowed. Of course it felt like the pill got stuck in my throat halfway down, but mom wouldn’t let me have another drink yet.
“You may throw up the pill then, and then I’d have to give you another kind of pill.”
“One that goes into the other end.”
“Other end… No way?”
“I’m fine. Don’t need more water. Thanks.”
My mom smiled at me and then resumed sponging me down. Even though it wasn’t very fun, it was kind of nice just lying there being babied.
“What if I have to pee?”
“We’ll deal with that when you need to.”
“Probably in a bottle. Don’t worry about it, Teddy.”
“I can’t pee in front of you!”
“I wish you couldn’t do that when you were younger. You used to hose me down.”
I didn’t say anything for a while after that. I’m not sure when I fell back to sleep, but I knew I had when I woke up and suddenly saw that it was now my dad who was sitting next to me. He didn’t notice I was awake right away, but then he looked me in the eyes.
“Thirsty?” he asked softly.
I nodded, suddenly realizing my mouth felt like the Great Sandy Desert. Yeah, we had been learning about Australia in geography class at school that year. And that Australia is both an island but also a continent, whereas Greenland which is bigger, is only an island. Well bigger, if you include the ice, that is.
“Ice too?” I managed to say.
“Okay, a sip of water, then an ice cube. But don’t crunch the ice. Just let it thaw in your mouth.”
I nodded and lifted my head as dad held the straw close to my mouth. I sucked in the fresh cold water that felt so refreshing. I couldn’t stop myself but as my dad saw how much water was leaving the glass, he just moved it away from the straw, so I only sucked in air.
“I told you not to drink too much. You don’t want to throw up again?”
I did get my ice cube though. The two minutes or so it took to thaw inside my mouth was pure heaven.
After an hour, during which my dad read to me, I asked if I wasn’t to have another pill.
“But we already gave you another one.”
“You did? When?”
“You were sleeping. And we thought it was best to just leave you like that.”
“You know, it’s not the first time we’ve had to stick a pill in your behind?”
“No, but back then you were just a toddler. You wouldn’t remember that.”
Truth be told, I didn’t remember this pill either. Moreover I couldn’t feel it back there either. I wasn’t hurting as much as I had been, so it had to be working.
It did take 15 days of staying home, mostly inside, some of the time in front of the Amiga playing games I had gotten copies of from Henry. But a lot of it was spent in bed. I did have to pee in a bottle a number of times, until I felt well enough to go to the bathroom. Only once did my dad hold it for me. No, I wouldn’t let my mom do that. Of course not. She had already seen far too much of my body to my liking, thank you very much.
I got the dreaded rash and yes it itched. Places on my body, I didn’t even know could itch, itched. I scratched some of it, of course, but mostly I used this stupid towel that didn’t really do anything. But I scratched too. Mostly in my sleep, but my mom cut my fingernails almost to the point where I didn’t have any left and filed them smooth, to keep me from scratching so much my skin would tear. I never had to wear the mittens the doctor had talked about.
I talked on the phone to Casey and Henry a couple of times. They both had the measles too. Later, we found out that almost half of the class had it too. Back then it wasn’t part of the vaccination program as it is now. I’m happy my boy, Andy will never know what it feels like to have the measles. Fortunately, he’s still sleeping, hopefully having happy dreams.
Oh, Tom never got the measles. Lucky bastard. I thought he was the one who gave them to me, until I learned about incubation times and that you don’t get symptoms until long after you’ve contracted it. I think he was a bit envious of the attention I got from our parents, but of course he’d never admit it. At his age, it’s not cool getting too much attention from parents. Go figure.
I love the cuddles and hugs, kisses are okay too, insofar they are only given in private. Not in front of your class mates or friends. And certainly not on the mouth. Well, sometimes those are okay too. I mean if you get the present you’ve wanted for like a year and a half and you unwrap it and you just become so happy you feel like you’ll wet yourself from joy. Then kisses on the mouth by family members are cool. No tongue though!
I tried a couple of times to get Henry to kiss with me. He wouldn’t have it. It was too gay. I didn’t really worry about what was gay or not, why couldn’t we just have fun, get our rocks off and not label it. I mean, he loved nailing me in the butt and what could be gayer than that? Taking it up the bum, and liking it too? If so, I was super gay! Wouldn’t that be something? If there was a super hero called Super Gay. Like Superman?
Always looking for another butt to claim, with x-ray vision that could tell whether or not this or that boy would like it up the butt? It would probably be easier for a lot of gay kids to go through life if there was such a super hero, just for them. One that would really crack down on gay bashing and the like. Oh well, at least it’s getting easier now, in some parts of the world.
But I was really wanting to kiss. French kiss. Smooching, swapping spit. All of it. And Henry, as my primary sex partner in crime for the moment wouldn’t do it. I remember one day when we were in bed, just caressing each other, that I told him I wished I was a girl.
“Why would you want to be a girl?”
“So you would kiss me!”
“But if you were a girl, we wouldn’t be here in this bed right now.”
He had a point. I couldn’t really say anything to that statement so instead I slipped down and sucked his dick. Which had grown a little, but not as much as my own. I was pretty much the same size as him, if not a little bigger. I had started shooting sperm too. Not much, and nothing as thick as his was now. But sometimes when I came, it shot over my head. The first time that happened to me, I was like, oh YEAH! But when it hit me in the face, I learned to keep a sock handy to catch my sperm.
Sadly, once I started shooting cum, Henry wouldn’t suck me off anymore. Not even just a little. It pissed me off, of course. But after a week of sulking, I sucked him off and took his dick up my ass regularly again. It felt good to me, even if it was still uncomfortable the first couple of minutes. But I still felt that Henry got much more out of our relationship than I did. I just had to make do with what I did get.
Getting to know the new boy.
When we got back from summer vacation starting the 8th grade, a new boy joined us. We had just sat down as the bell rang and our class teacher had done the roll call, when there was a knock on the door. And in entered this new kid. I hadn’t seen him before, ever. But our teacher greeted him, then she told us that this was Thomas. He had transferred from another school and he would be part of this class until the end of 9th.
At first I was a bit taken back. How would he fit in, this class had been made up of the same 15 kids since kindergarten class. But then I thought I might make a new friend. I was only really friends with Casey and Henry, though Jacob and another dude, Rick, had started being more friendly towards me. Not to the point where we had sex together, far from. It was just hanging out together, playing games, soccer mostly, but also computer games.
One time we were hanging out, Jacob made fun of Rick having made a hole in his Teddy bear once and fucked it. Rick was blushing like never before and we all but rolled around on the ground laughing. But I thought that they might be doing something like me and Casey or me and Henry with each other. I never picked up the courage to ask them, sadly. Rick was drop dead gorgeous, a slim, short soccer player who hadn’t been hit by puberty yet.
I knew, as I checked his dick out a number of times in the showers. I noticed he got a good look at my junk too, during the 8th grade, as there was a rotation of sports activities in PE. Rick and I were the only boys who opted for badminton, and that took place at the real badminton center. The teacher was female, so we had the changing room and showers to ourselves. His dink was that of a small boy, no hair in sight on his body lower than his eye brows.
Mine had not only increased in size, but I had gotten quite a bit of hair down there too, unfortunately orange/red in color, sort of like a carrot. My dick was big even when flaccid, it didn’t get all that much bigger when erect. I’d like to think that he imagined it would grow into a monster cock when it got stiff. He didn’t look away from it when he saw I had caught him checking it out. And I didn’t turn away either. Unfortunately as said, nothing ever happened with Rick.
Thomas, the new boy, was another story. He was the other one to call me fag, Jacob being the first, if you remember. But, let me start from scratch with Thomas.
He entered our class that first day in the 8th grade. And he got the desk just behind mine. Which was made even sweeter, as the teacher told us to rearrange the tables, so they would be in a horseshoe shape. We sat two pupils at each desk, and now we would be sitting right next to each other. The one sitting on the other side of Thomas was one of the girls, who was much more interested in gossiping with the girl now sitting next to her.
I had a guy named René on my left hand, but we had absolutely nothing in common. So we hardly ever spoke to each other. So I talked a bit to Thomas when possible, not when the teacher was talking of course, but when books and assignments on papers and all that crap was handed out. He told me that he lived 3km from the school, in another part of the small city. Actually in another school district too, but some kind of trouble had made him switch schools.
I never learned the exact nature of the trouble, if he had been bullied or maybe was a bully himself, but he didn’t cause any serious trouble in our class. Apart from when he tried to out me in front of my class mates in woodworking class. Anyway, it was a couple of weeks into the school year when I talked to him about a biology project I was doing on my own, not really a school project, but inspired by the study book we used in biology.
It was about how to see what kind of insects and stuff that lived on the forest floor. It was quite simple, all you had to do, was take a glass jar and bury it in the ground. So the edge of the jar was level with the ground. That way unsuspecting insects would walk across the ground and fall into the jar. Because the jar was made of glass, the insects would be trapped inside of it. Of course, some would be able to just crawl up the side and out, but I did catch some.
Of course I let them out and I dutifully checked the jar every day, as per the instructions from the book. So I asked Thomas if he would want to come check out the jar to see what was in it that day. Afterwards we could go home to me and play on the Amiga. He was all up for it and after school we went to the small woods where I had two traps set up. One was pretty much empty, but there was a few in the other.
I was starting to get bored from having these traps, I had had them out there for three days and the excitement factor had already tumbled down to around -5. So I took the jars out of the ground and covered the holes back up. And that is when I got really brave. I casually said that it was a nice secluded area perfect for jerking off.
“Yeah, there’s no one but us here and I feel like wanking.”
“You want to what?”
“Wanking, you know? Masturbating?”
“Yeah, why not? You do wank, right?”
“How about we go to mine?”
We rode on our bikes to my house, and when we were safely locked away in my room, I asked if he wanted to do it.
“I’m not sure.”
“Ah, come on. I’m going to,” and with that I pulled down my shorts and underwear before sitting on the bed.
My dick was already hard, had been since when we had been in the woods. Thomas looked at me, but didn’t really make a move to get his own out.
“Dude, get it out. You’ve seen mine, now show me yours.”
He lifted his bum and pulled down his shorts and underwear but his t-shirt covered the important bits. So I reached over and lifted it up and out of the way.
“Hey,” he objected.
“It’s not a big deal,” I said and looked at his dick, “sorry man, I’m not making fun of you.”
“It is small though.”
“I like it just the way it is,” I said, completely honest too. While it in fact was small, it was also extremely stiff, “Wanna whack off?”
“Okay,” he placed his hands on either side of his dick, which must have been no more than 7cm long, and started rubbing them really fast against each other, like he was a scout trying to light a fire by rubbing a twig against a bigger branch.
“Can you get off by doing that?”
“Get the feelings?”
“I’m not sure. It feels good doing this.”
“If you keep doing it, what happens?”
“I only do it for a couple of minutes.”
“Oh man, you’ve been missing out.”
“Mind if I try something on you? You’ll like it I promise.”
I had him stop abusing his dink like that and took hold of it the proper way. Proper for masturbation, that is. At least if you want to get off, and not start a fire in your loins. Uh, maybe that is the same thing, just different expressions. Anyway, I held it with my thumb and first two fingers. There wasn’t really more fingers that would fit his tiny dick, if I was to make the up and down strokes on it too. I held onto his foreskin so that on the up stroke my thumb would touch the lower side of his head.
My index finger was on the other side of the head and my middle finger, just below the head. And then I set off in a slow stroke.
“Give it a little time.”
I continued stroking, occasionally reaching over with my other hand to caress his small nuts. I know, I keep using these words, little, small and tiny to describe Thomas’ junk, which I don’t do to belittle him. But he WAS tiny down there. Andy at age 5 was as big as Thomas at age 13. Compared to him, I didn’t have anything to be shy about in that department. Thomas seemed to be getting more into this, at least he started shifting his body in little jerks.
“Oh loads. It tingles like I’m about to pee.”
“You won’t pee. It feels tons better.”
It took me all of six minutes to get Thomas to get his feelings. He shuddered through what seemed to be a pretty awesome first dry orgasm, with toes curling and tensing of thighs and stomach muscles. Add in the short gasps for air. And the complete relaxed state afterwards.
I asked him if he wanted to jack me off, and he did start doing so. He was clumsy, not used to jacking off and I reluctantly took over and finished off myself. He thought it was cool to see the sperm shoot out at the end. After I wiped off my sperm, we played games on the computer for an hour or two, before Thomas went on his way home.
And the next day, first period, woodworking class, Thomas made the announcement.
“Teddy is a faggot!”
My heart skipped when I heard him say that. I thought he had enjoyed himself the day before. It certainly seemed that way.
“You’re a liar, Thomas,” Casey said fiercely.
“Yeah, I don’t think Teddy is a fag either,” Rick said from the other side of the room.
And then a lot of the guys and some of the girls pitched in, talking over each other, practically ridiculing Thomas for being a jerk. I didn’t at the time, but as I think back to that moment now, I kind of feel sorry for Thomas. He was telling the truth. Admittedly, in a way that was uncalled for. I’ve given it quite a lot of thought and I think he only said it because he wanted to be something in the eyes of the class. To be someone others looked up to.
But it backfired. If he had thought it would want people to start a friendship with him, it did the complete opposite. The others in the class shied away from him, never shared any secrets or trusting him with anything. So a couple of days later during recess, he told me he was sorry for saying it. I acted cool and told him not to worry about it, that no harm had been done. Then he really surprised me by asking if he could come over after school.
A normal person would probably have said no. I wasn’t normal, so I said yes. When we were inside my bedroom, Capri-Suns and a small snack in hands, I started laying down the law to Thomas. There was to be no more talking about what we did in my room outside of it. He again started to apologize, but I stopped him and told him to stop thinking about it, that I had already forgotten about it. Yeah, right, not forgotten but forgiven.
I then said there were a lot of things we could do to and with each other, if he wanted to. But, they had to be kept secret. He agreed to this quickly.
“Don’t just say it’s okay. Think it through,” I intoned.
“I have, I want to.”
So I told him to drop his pants. And he did.