Date: Mon, 24 Sep 2012 20:47:39 +0000 (UTC)
From: fiveholepunch@comcast.net
Subject: Caught Sniffing Part Two

Caught Sniffing Part Two


Almost every night, after our lights out curfew at 9 PM, I waited for about
twenty minutes or so before I ventured into our residency hall's common
bathroom looking for forgotten underpants on the shower benches.  This
allowed "late pissers" to clear out and, believe it or not, many of the
sixth grade boys actually went to sleep near their bedtime.  Early in the
school year most of the sixth grade boys, new to group living, masturbated
secretly under their covers before falling asleep.  Naturally, as the
school year went on, many boys became more open about their common pleasure
and shared masturbatory activity increased, with either boys pairing off
casually or, on rare occasions, in larger group efforts.  Our actual
bedtime occurred later and later as the months passed and our familiarity
increased.

As mentioned in the introductory episode, this common bathroom was shared
by both the six and seventh grade boys in our school.  This wasn't true of
the dorms themselves, however.  Each grade had a separate sleeping area and
no boys from one grade were allowed in the dorms of the other.  I think we
can guess why.  After leaving these segregated sleeping areas, one entered
a hall and almost immediately across the way there were two widely
separated entrances to the common bathroom, one near the sixth grade dorm
and one near the seventh grade dorm.  Once inside, between these two doors
were the sinks on one wall and the toilet stalls immediately opposite them
on the other.  There were two urinals on each side of the long row of
toilet stalls.  The showers were placed to one side only, nearest the
seventh grade entrance.

This asymmetrical placement of the showers was both good and bad.  What was
good was that it allowed me to walk through the bathroom to see if there
were any other boys in there before I conducted my search for left-behind
undies in the shower anteroom.  What was bad was the danger of getting
caught hiding in the showers far from the sixth grade entrance.  I would
walk down the row of stalls and stand before the urinal closest to the
shower anteroom.  From there I could quickly look to see if any items were
left on the benches.  Sometimes there were none to be found.  When there
was another boy in the bathroom I would casually stop near a sink or the
sixth grade urinals and abandon my search for that evening.  In those five
or six weeks before I was caught, I seemed to be able to find what I was
looking for about every three or four days on average.  On a couple of
occasions I found more than one pair of underwear left behind.  In that
case I chose the dirtiest ones.

If favored by fortune, I moved quickly to satisfy my desires.  As soon as I
spotted a pair I began to get an erection almost immediately from the
excitement.  I risked only about thirty seconds visually going over the
briefs.  This was the most dangerous time.  I had to be out in the open in
the dim light of the shower anteroom to visually inspect my prize.  Whose
were they?  We were required to have name tags in all of our clothing so I
was able to match up the leftover briefs with the boy who had worn them.
What sorts of stains were visible?

I then hid in the darkened shower stall and sniffed each scent one after
the other.  Each time I inhaled a rush of energy ran down my spine.  My
penis became painfully hard, my scrotum tightened.  Sometimes I rubbed
myself through my pajamas, but only a little bit.  I was afraid if I came
in the showers my groans would echo too loudly and I would be discovered.
After no more than a minute, I peeked around the corner to see if the
bathroom were still deserted.  If the coast was clear I threw the briefs
back on the wooden bench and made my way to a toilet stall to lower my
pants and quickly masturbate.  This entire erotic episode took less than
five minutes from start to finish.  I then returned to my bed and slept
soundly.

Now while I had been playing pleasurably with my penis for several years, I
had only really begun jerking off with repeated strokes to orgasm over the
last six months.  I had only dry orgasms up until just before I left for
boarding school and even my recent wet ones were just a drop or two of
clear fluid.  I never had any sort of sex education, whatsoever.  I had a
vague idea of what semen was biologically, "the male seed" as it was
described in the encyclopedia, but I certainly had never seen, nor did I
have any idea what a real ejaculation looked like.  I was about to find
out.

Late one Tuesday evening, a few weeks after the beginning of the school
year, I was making my way down the row of sinks towards the shower anteroom
in hopes of finding another boy's dirty underwear.  I could tell there was
no one in our common bathroom and I got ahead of myself thinking about what
I may find as I neared the far end.  All of a sudden the seventh grade door
flew open and a long-haired, pajama clad boy burst in.  I jumped back with
the start.

"Oh!"

It was Hank.  His name wasn't really Hank, it was Heinz - Heinz Ubervoll.
Everybody called him Hank for obvious reasons.  He was from Germany.  His
brown hair was daringly long; it hung way over his ears.  He had milky blue
eyes.  Hank was really nice guy for seventh grader.

"Sorry Timmy, I didn't mean to scare you like that," Hank apologized
loudly, "I just had a wet dream and blew a big load in my pants."

I had no idea what he meant, but I looked down at the front of his pajamas
and saw a big wet patch around the fly.

Hank went up to the nearest sink and shocked me with what he did next.
Hank pulled his pajama bottoms and underwear down exposing his penis and
testicles to my view.  I stared, frozen in my tracks.  Hank's penis was
big.  It was an inch thick.  It hung down three inches.  It had a long flap
of skin that hung over the end.  I kind of knew what a foreskin was because
of those Renaissance paintings, but those little angels had tiny little
pointy coverings, Hank's looked nothing like theirs, his wasn't tiny.  I
also noticed that Hank's penis was shiny wet.

"Man, what a mess!  I must've shot a gallon."

Hank looked at me and laughed.  He reached down into his white cotton
briefs and using his forefinger scraped something gooey from the inside of
the wet pouch. He flung it off the end of his finger and into the sink.  I
could smell it.

"I'm definitely going to need a dry pair of underwear," Hank declared.

Hank then proceeded to step out of his pajama bottoms and cotton briefs.
He ran some water in the sink, wetted his underwear and used it to wipe the
mess from his crotch and lower abdomen.  As he did so, I noticed Hank had
some dark hairs on his scrotum and a few just above his penis.

Suddenly, I came back to my senses and realized that I was standing in the
bathroom and staring at another boy's privates.

"Ah... Well... I've got to pee," I said self-consciously.

I went over to the urinals and pretended to pee for a minute and then I
flushed.  When I turned around, Hank was just pulling up his pajama bottoms
over his naked rear.

"See you later, Hank," I said excusing myself.

"Yeah, see you.  Sorry about scaring you like that, Timmy!"  Hank
apologized again.

As I made my way back to my bed, I wondered about what I saw.  What was
that that Hank had in his pants?  I wasn't sure.  What was a wet dream?
Should I ask Hank?  He seemed like a nice guy.  Maybe I should.  As I lay
in bed, I decided I would ask him, but only if I could talk to him without
anybody else finding out.



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