I met Matt outside the gym
right after school. As we started walking toward
home, he grabbed me by my shoulder, then put his arm across the
back of my neck and around the other shoulder. Pulling me into him
we were side by side, he
said, "Hey, loser, I've had a hard day at school, and I think you
oughta carry my backpack for me, since we trashed your ass all over the
"Yeah, that's gonna happen," I
responded, pulling his arm off my shoulder and stepping away from him.
I got a couple of armlengths from him and kept walking. Undeterred, he
took a few large strides and caught up with me,
we continued down the road.
I looked over at him as we
walked, waiting to see if he'd press the issue. Reaching for "sullen"
on his face but not quite achieving it, he said, "Shit. Just goes to
show you who your friends are."
"Damn straight," I
responded. "I'm looking
out for your ass. Your puny biceps need the extra workout or you're
never gonna get any more women."
He frowned at me.
"Carrying a backpack doesn't work your biceps, moron. And I'll put my
biceps up against yours any day," he said, flexing an arm.
you're sooooo fuckin' wrong about the women. Beth wants me, dude!"
Oh, brother. Matt's
crush-of-the-week. He was making his way through the opening act of
puberty in larger-than-life style. Matt was hopelessly, serially in
love with the girls in our school, one right after another. Each week
some new girl was "absolutely the love of his life." And every weekend
he was getting a different one to hang out at the mall with him or go
to a movie and make out with him. And each week I had to hear about it.
I could match him erection for
erection in our relatively newfound interest in girls. And I had no
trouble in getting them to pay attention to me, either. It was that way
with most of my buds. The crew of young jocks I ran with was
girls out"; that is, walking with them to hang out at the mall or the
movies. We were all pretty fast for our age; there was
usually some heavy making-out going
on when my friends got together with girls.
Matt and I had both had our share of experience in that area. But I
tended to focus on one girl at a time, in one- or two-month time
periods, rather than swapping out at the end of a week. At his current
Matt was going to go through all the girls at our school before I'd had
my chance with them. And I didn't want to think of myself as getting
Matt's leftovers. Lucky for me, I said to myself, that he isn't fucking
them yet, or pretty soon virgins would be an extinct species.
Hearing him talk about Beth pissed me off. She was on my radar screen right
now. She was a cheerleader, and she was beautiful. Even at the
junior-high level the jocks and cheerleaders seemed naturally to
gravitate toward each other. So Beth was definitely in my sphere of
influence, but for that reason she was in Matt's, too. I
didn't want to see those two get together. I hadn't gotten the nerve to
make any moves on her yet, but in my mind, since I'd been interested in
her long before today, she was off-limits to Matt. I didn't want to
admit that to him, though; I mean, what if he'd already asked her out?
I'd look pretty pathetic going on about some girl Matt was already
So rather than admit my
interest in Beth, I chose to focus on Matt's incipient "womanizing." I
scowled at him and said, "Man, I don't wanna hear about it. It's
always somebody new with you. Last week it was Julie, wasn't it?
Week before that it was Jennifer."
"Okay, so I like
cheerleaders," he said, laughing.
"Fuckin' execute me! And speaking of Julie and Jennifer, you've been
with both of them too, so don't talk that shit with me. I can't help it
that Beth's all about my gorgeous face and my hot body."
With that smart-ass remark I
felt anger and jealousy rise up from the pit of my stomach. All
of a sudden, Matt was the last person on the planet I was
interested in walking home with. I picked up my pace, creating a little
distance between us, and mumbled, "Fuck you, I noticed her first,"
under my breath, not intending to be heard.
No such luck. Matt stopped me
by grabbing me by the shoulders. Turning me around to face him, he
asked, "So why didn't you just say that?"
I was embarrassed that he'd
heard me. "Because you're the
one who brought it up, not me," I
yelled. "You're all 'Oh Beth, she's got the hots for me,' so what
am I supposed to do now that you've asked her out? Like I'm
supposed to say,
'You can't go out with her because I liked her first'?"
He looked at me with wide,
disbelieving eyes, and said, "Well, I haven't asked her out, but as a
matter of fact, yeah, that's exactly
what you're supposed to say!"
I muttered, "Like that's gonna
make a difference."
Matt's face fell. He didn't
say anything for a minute. Then he shook his head and said, "Whatever,
dude. Let's go." And he turned around and resumed walking.
I followed him, feeling
vaguely guilty for reasons I didn't understand. I wasn't sure
what to say, wasn't sure what to think. Once I'd reached his side
again, he looked over at me and said, "Dude, between the two of
us we'll probably date a million girls."
I stopped walking, crossed my
arms, and said, "So?"
He didn't hesitate. "I
just think it ought to be an understanding between us. If we've got it
bad for the same girl, neither of us asks her out."
I wasn't sure I liked that
proposal. "Why, Matt? It's like you said, there are lots of girls
around. We both do okay with girls. Why
not just say it's up to each one of us to make the first move and the
other guy can't give him any shit for it if he does?"
"Because there's lots of girls
to choose from," he said. "But there's only one Matt-and-Andy. I
don't want anybody to mess that up. He paused, looked down
at the ground for a moment, then looked back into my eyes and
continued. "My family's been fucked. I don't always deal so good.
Sometimes you keep me in the game, you know?"
Jesus. There it was again. Why
the hell was it that Matt always seemed years ahead of me when it came
to matters of the human heart? Now I understood why I was feeling
guilty. I wasn't clear with myself that I would put our friendship
ahead of our sex drives. But he was plenty
clear on the matter, and to
hear me express
the slightest doubt about him on the matter stung him a little.
I had to let him know that I
was as loyal to him as he was to me. I also had to save face. "Yeah,
okay, you're right, ya big asshole," I finally responded. "I guess if
you can't handle the competition, I'll throw you a break."
Matt's eyes sparkled
undisguised pleasure at that response, along with a hint of mischief.
He grabbed me by the neck and put me in a headlock. "That's my man.
Always lookin' out for his bud; after all, you have to give us guys
micro-dicks a fighting chance, big guy."
I was about to respond with
"Damn straight," when he winked and added, "Not that any of that could
have kept Beth from picking me if we both went after her!"
I was totally disarmed; he had
me laughing again. "Oh, man, you are too fuckin' much!" I broke free
from his headlock and tackled him, dropping him onto the front lawn of
the house we were standing in front of. After a short wrestling
match, I got the upper hand, and sat on top of his chest. Holding him
down by the
shoulders, I dangled a wad of spit from my lips, right over his eyes.
Looking up into my face, he
cocked an eyebrow and said, "Would the pleasure really be worth the
Considering for a minute, I
decided against it and spit into the grass over his right shoulder,
then let him up.
"Smart boy," he said. "Now
let's go eat some fuckin' cookies."
We started walking again, side
by side, laughing and
Matt's mom made the best
chocolate chip cookies on the planet. She wasn't home from work yet,
and wouldn't be until around five, but there were about two dozen
cookies on a plate sitting on Matt's kitchen table. "Oh, man," I said.
"Let's pig out!" We took the cookies and went upstairs to his bedroom.
When we got there, he went
over and turned on the TV. We took off our shoes and socks and Matt
went to his collection of video games to pull one for us to play;
already sprawled out on his bed, I said, "Hang on, my man, what's going
"Done and done," he replied.
I wasn't sure. Matt tended to
loaf if I wasn't cracking the whip. "Okay, boy, this is not your mom
you're talking to. Are you shittin' me?"
"Jesus, Phillips, you're such
a little slave-driver," he said, rolling his eyes. "Dude, my
homework is done. I did everything I had at the end of math. We had
time. You wanna check it out or something?"
"Nah, I believe you. I don't
have any homework either. I'm just trying to save you from a life of
homelessness and poverty." I took the game from him, loaded it, and sat
down with a controller.
"Yeah, well, thanks for
nothing, dickhead," he said, joining me with the other controller.
"Any time," I said, laughing.
We played a round or two. I
didn't have this game at home, so he kicked my ass. After a while, he
dropped his controller and said, "Dude, you need practice. Play
one-player for awhile. I'll just watch." So I messed around with it for
awhile, slowly improving my technique.
He watched quietly. Every
now and then I turned to look at him or say something to him, and
occasionally when I did, I
noticed that he was staring at me instead of the video screen. But I
was so engrossed in the game I didn't think anything of it.
After I'd had my fill, I put
down the controller and said, "Let's go outside and shoot hoops."
He didn't say anything for a
minute; he was still looking at me. The look on his face gave the
impression of someone who has something on his mind but isn't sure
about talking about it.
I looked back at him and
Silence. After a moment
or two, he shook his
head, looked nervously at the floor, and said, "Never mind."
I wasn't having any of that.
"Okay, spill it; what's on your mind?"
His face still seemed
tentative and a little wary. Finally, he took a deep breath and said,
"We're best friends, right, Andy?"
Now I was sort of alarmed.
This seemed way too serious for what we'd been doing the last hour. I
quickly replied, "Shit, yeah, Matt, you shouldn't even have to ask."
"So like if I wanted to ask
you something weird you wouldn't give me shit about it or go telling
the whole fuckin' school?"
"No way, man," I said, calling
on all the sincerity I had to bring to the response. "I would never do
anything to fuck you over, and you know that."
"Okay," he said. "Here's what
it is. I never...man, don't think I'm queer or anything, but I never
seen a dick with all its skin, you know? And I...I guess it
kinda freaked me out when I saw you today. I mean...I'm not
you're a freak! I just...well, I mean, we're so much alike about
stuff...well, not everything but you know what I'm sayin'...and, well,
been friends all this time. I guess I never even thought about it that
you'd be...you know, like that. Not that I go around
thinking about your dick or anything."
I was relieved and amused at
the same time. What a stupid-ass thing to get all serious about! Matt
was my best friend and I'd never hurt or humiliate him, but damned if I
wasn't going to have at least a little fun
with this one. I wasn't sure where he was going with this, but I was
going to make the getting-there a little bit of a trip for him.
So I smirked at him and said,
"So what's your point?"
He said, "Okay, I
guess I..." he paused; then, turning red, he said, quietly, "Could I
I burst out laughing. "You
wanna see my dick? That's
is about? Oh, man! I woulda never guessed it!"
"Oh, fuck you, Phillips," he
snarled, getting even redder. Snatching up the game controller
just laid down, he faced away from me and focused his attention on the
video screen, muttering,
"Just forget it, goddammit." Then he turned back to face me and added,
swear I will fuckin' beat your face in if you tell anyone about this!"
I stifled my hilarity a
little. After I'd gotten some control of myself, I thought about
it for a minute, and, still
working hard to keep from laughing, I said, "I'm sorry, man, it just
seemed funny. You gotta admit it's kinda 'out there.' But, really,
it's all good. If you wanna see my dick it's fine with me, I don't give
a shit. You know I'd never tell anybody shit like that, and if
you don't believe me--well, tell you what: you drop the trousers too,
way it'll be safe."
"Well, if I were gonna be a
total asshole jerk and tell the school you were pervin' on my dick, you
could say I was pervin' on yours."
Matt grinned sheepishly at me
and said, "Yeah, I guess so. Okay. It's just that I never seen one and
I'm really curious and you're my best friend."
"Enough already, I said I'd do
it," I replied, and started unbuckling my belt. Matt began to strip
with me. We got down to our boxers.
I looked at him, put my thumbs
inside the waistband and said, "Here goes." Then I pushed my boxers
down, let them fall to the floor, and stepped out of them.
Matt followed suit. We stood
there facing each other, less than a foot and a half away from each
other, naked from the waist down, eyeing each other's dicks. Matt had a
good bit of dark brown hair surrounding a cut dick of
greater-than-average thickness that was maybe three and a half inches
soft. His balls hung loosely in their sack. My own equipment wasn't too
different. I didn't have as much hair down there as he did, and it was
a lighter brown in color; my uncut dick, soft, was about four and a
half inches, with about the same proportion of length-to-girth as his.
The absurdity of this little
tableau was threatening to make me laugh again, but Matt seemed
genuinely interested in checking out my dick. Which, of course, was
threatening to make me laugh even harder. Still, I managed to hold it
After a few moments he asked,
uneasily, "Does it just like, skin back? I mean, can you move it
below...below the...you know...the head?"
This was Weird Planet as far
as I was concerned; I mean, I didn't think any the worse of Matt for
it, but I wouldn't have ever expected to be in Matt's room with him
comparing dicks. There was something kind of perversely riveting about
it, though, and in my typical balls-to-the-wall attitude, I decided to
myself, well, shit, why don't we
make this interesting?
I raised an eyebrow and
replied, "Why don't you see for yourself?"
"Put your hand on it
yourself," I said. "Slide back the skin. You wanna know how it works,
try it out yourself."
He stepped back a couple of
steps and shook his head. "No fuckin' way. I'm not gay and you know it.
I'm not gonna have you blabbing all over town that I got queer with
"Dude, I know you're not gay,"
I said. "Don't be stupid. And I'd never do that to you, asshole.
I totally get it: you wanted to check my dick out because you never
seen one like mine.
Well, here it is. I just figured, why not satisfy your curiosity all
He hesitated for a few
minutes, staring at my dick the whole time, but unable to cross the
I urged him on. "Look, Matt, I
know you're not gay, and I know you want to touch it. I'm telling you
it's okay, and if it'll make you feel better I'll touch yours too. And
nobody has to know anything about it."
Matt eyed me warily, then
relaxed and said, "What the fuck. Okay, come here."
I stepped closer, still facing
him. He reached out and touched my dick. He ran his fingers from the
base of my shaft up towards the tip of the foreskin. Then he looked up
at me and asked, "Can I, like, skin it back?"
"Yeah," I said. "Just be
careful. Don't pull too hard or too fast. And also, a promise is a
I reached over and grabbed his
dick, feeling up and down on it. Matt slowly, almost gingerly,
skinned back my foreskin. "Wow, the head of your dick is so friggin'
"Yeah, well, it gets more
protection than yours does."
He pulled the foreskin back
into place slowly, then slid it down again. It didn't take long at all
before my dick started getting thicker and longer. "Oh, shit," he
muttered when he realized what was happening, and he let go of my dick
like it was a poisonous snake. I dropped his too; it was starting to
respond just like mine.
Pretty soon both our dicks
were at full attention. As Matt watched, his eyes got even wider.
"Damn; you're fuckin' huge! How big is it?"
"Almost seven and a half
inches," I said with some pride.
"Wow, you're almost an inch
and a half bigger than me," he said.
"Well, you're not really
little either. I read somewhere that six is average and we're only in
Somewhere in all of this I
started getting really horny. I was kind of freaked out, but I thought
to myself, hell, let's just go for it.
So I said, "C'mon, Matt, it felt
good in your hand. Do it some more." I reached for his dick to give him
"We're gonna jerk each other
off now?" he said with a mixture of horror and fascination.
"Your call, bro. I'm game if
"Okay, cool. But you better
I rolled my eyes at him.
"How could I tell? I'll be
doin' you just like you're doin' me."
He put his hand back on me and
slowly started sliding my foreskin back and forth on my hard cock. For
a guy who didn't have a foreskin, he figured out quickly how most of us
uncut guys do it.
For my part, I noticed that it
didn't work quite as neatly with a cut guy. I said to him, "Got any
"Just use your spit," he said,
already breathing heavily.
I spit into my hand and
started jacking him off slowly. The room was silent except for some
occasional moans and our increasingly heavy breathing.
By his facial expressions it
was clear Matt was feeling the same pleasure that I was. As we
increased the speed and intensity of our hand-action, it was obvious I
was getting closer, faster. When we could see that I was about to
shoot, Matt said, "Let go of me and let me finish you first."
I was in no condition to
argue. I let go of his dick, closed my eyes, and concentrated on the
sensations. "Keep going, dude, I'm almost there," I moaned.
Matt continued working my dick
furiously. Finally, I felt my whole lower torso tense up. I was dizzy
with the need for release. Matt kept pumping and my dick began to spurt
its juice. The first three squirts shot all over his shirt, at first
right below his neck, then at chest level, then at his waist. After I
was all drained, he continued to jack me, but my dick
was getting supersensitive. "Stop, dude," I said.
He let go of me and I fell to
the bed for a minute, spent. He was breathing as hard as I was, and
his erection still pointed angrily toward the ceiling, aching to be
finished off. I was kind of past the mood, and
the "gayness" of the encounter was beginning to freak me out a little,
but fair is fair, so I gripped his dick again and began pumping him.
His breathing got even more ragged and he gasped, "Faster." I increased
my intensity and worked on him about another minute. Then I felt him
tense up and his dick spat three good-sized sprays of cum on my shirt
and all over my hand.
I continued to work him with
my hand until his dick stopped spasming. Then I let him go and he sat
down hard on the floor, breathing slowly and deeply. I sat on his bed
and he sat on the floor, both of us naked below the waist and tired. We
were silent for a while. Then Matt got up and left the room. When he
came back he'd brought a couple of damp washcloths. He threw one at me
and, grinning, he said, "We don't wanna leave that on our shirts."
We got cleaned up, then he
took the cloths back into his bathroom, washed them out in the sink,
and hung them up on the towel rack to dry. When he came back into his
room, he looked at me with a sickly expression and said, "Man;
that was pretty queer, wasn't it?"
I looked at him and said,
"Yeah, maybe." Then, after a pause, I added, "But I don't give a shit.
It was fuckin' hot!"
Matt rolled on the floor
laughing; I rolled on his bed laughing. We must have belly-laughed and
joked around for a good five minutes, until Matt looked at his clock. A
look of terror gripped him, and he said, "Shit! My mom's gonna be here
any second. Get your fuckin' clothes on!"
We both jumped into our
clothes and started straightening up his room a little. And in fact
we'd barely been dressed for sixty seconds when, through his bedroom
window, we saw Matt's mom pull up into the driveway. We turned his TV
on again, popped in a video game, and tried to look like we were deep
When Matt's mom got into the
house she came upstairs and greeted us. "Hi, sweety. Hey, Andy. Are you
staying for dinner?"
I grabbed my backpack and
said, "Not this time; I need to get home tonight 'cause I told Mom I'd
be home for dinner. Thanks for the cookies, though; they were awesome!"
"No need to thank me Andy,
sweetheart; if you boys liked them, that's all the thanks I need."
I rolled my eyes furtively at
Matt. His mom was always calling me "sweetheart" or "honey" or
something like that, and it was kind of embarrassing. Matt just grinned
and gave me one of those "deal with it" looks.
"Okay, Mrs. Price," I said.
"I'll see y'all tomorrow. See ya, Matt."
"Not if I see you first,
cowboy," he quipped.
With his mom in the room, I
decided not to make the reply that came into my head.
Copyright 2003 by Adam Phillips. Emails are welcome at