A Match Part One
This story is original, based on true events, and contains sexual situations between boys entering adolescence. This story is copyrighted and cannot be republished in any form without express written consent from the author, © Jake Caught. Please know you are reading this story at your own risk, and that © Jake Caught is held forever and completely harmless should any legal action be taken against you.
This is part one, more to come. Feel free to provide feedback to © Jake Caught at firstname.lastname@example.org. Please support Nifty!
I watched in amazement as John actually produced the matches he always bragged about having, and now was going to actually light one. Should I have been more stunned at the reality I was finally naked with one of my more wild best friends?
"Are you crazy?" I quizzed John. My eyes confused with what to be more fascinated with...the lone, blazing match or John's firmly erect penis. A sight I had so wanted to see for so long, and now here it was right in front of me, yet fully obscured by the fear and excitement of fire.
"Calm down Boy Scout!" John yelled at me. He always called me "Boy Scout" partly because I was in the Boy Scouts, but more to the fact I was always prepared for any situation. He hated that I was in the Boy Scouts. "Your leader is a cop," John often spat at me. Not like he had any knowledge of cops, but that seemed to further his disdain for my association with it all.
John and I had set off that summer afternoon on a search of excitement. We had hung out rarely, but when we did John always got up to some sort of trouble. I figured the only reason he brought me along was I was always ready to get us out of whatever jam he got us into. Getting caught in the neighbor's house was the latest prank he tried, and failed at again...relying on my smooth talking to explain to the shocked Mrs. Allen that we saw the back door open and went in to close it. She bought it, and even thanked us with lemonade and cookies. Upon leaving, I got the usual playful head slap from John, his smile melting me and only further arousing my desire to be naked with him.
Why he did it, or even how he did it to this day still makes me wonder. All I knew John was suddenly hopping around screaming, "Shit, shit, shittttttttt!" The match somehow having come into contact with the side of his stiff penis. For the first time with John and his crazy adventures, I didn't know what to do to get him, us?, out of this one. My mind was reeling as I reflected on my own young childhood experience with being burned. I knew the pain, but then I had only got my feet burned, not my dick! Seeing John near tears, yelping in pain, and a small blister clearly visible now on the exposed side of his deflating shaft...I did only what experience reminded me to do from my own burn experience. Grabbing John, I pushed him down and started scooping up a handful of dirt and packing the cooling soil onto his crotch. Not exactly the way I had hoped to handle the apple of my sexual eye, but it worked.
"Are you frikkin' crazy!!!!?" he screamed at me until he realized the cool dirt was actually subsiding the burn. I continued to cup handfuls of dirt onto his penis, which was now a sight to be seen. What had been once a proudly erect statement of John's excitement was now a dirt encrusted, wilting, 12 year old boyhood. The dirt was clinging to the few wispy pubic hairs he had recently grown, along with covering his smooth sack that nestled his young balls. What a sight! I was torn from my role as soother in chief with John's suddenly elated voice asking, "You got a boner, Boy Scout?"
Despite all the coolness and confidence that I displayed to all, here was my Achille's Heel proudly proclaiming my true weakness. All four and half inches of my young boy stalk, with its own newly acquired curly hairs, standing at attention like it was at flag salute during a troop meeting. There sits my friend, my secret admiration, the boy of my deepest dreams still whining in pain...and me, with my penis prepared and ready for what may come next.
"You are sporting major wood, and my dick is covered in dirt!" he continued on. "What the fuck are we going to do now?" I was stunned into action once again, as I had never seen this side of John. That brave, wild, crazy boy whose appearance, smell, just the way he walked would result in my mind smiling and reeling into emotional depths of sexuality...well, he was actually showing uncertainty, he was really looking to me for help, and he kept wondering aloud how I had an erection at this moment in time. His expressions of mixed pain and wonder did nothing to subside my arousal...not in the least. My penis was on auto-pilot...it was going to stay hard and proud no matter what.
Our explorations that day had led us to a clearing within a huge wild blackberry patch alongside the creek. The creek had little water in it during summer as it meandered alongside the grass fields of our school, often flooding right into the playground during the rains of winter. As the flow of the creek headed away from the school yard and towards the bay it became nearly hidden between the huge thickets of blackberry and those tall, green weeds that smell of licorice. Endless paths where boys would spend lazy afternoons, or early evenings long after they should have been home from school, wound through the area. John and I had explored this paradise of youthful adventure many times, with me always hoping to find some secret secluded spot where he and I could drop all our clothes and explore in the ultimate display of boyhood boldness. My hope was that John's wildness, his crazy allure, would lead to far more than just snaking through the hidden areas of this patch of wilderness. Maybe, just maybe he would allow us, want to, even initiate our explorations of boyhood pleasure.
Taking John by the hand I led us naked into one of the few deep pools of the nearly stagnant creek. Even though it was a hot, July day the water was cool and soothing. Leading him on into the water I began to gently wash the dirt from his groin being careful to not cause any pain from the small burn he had given himself. My hands seemed to know what to do, his firm, muscular body seemed to fit so naturally with the curve of my hands...my fingers tracing on the long desired canvas of my friend. Lost in the sensuality of the moment my other senses became even more alive. John always smelled like sweet hay from a barn, and now my nostrils were filled with that intoxicating aroma. The pure smell of my dreams, so sweet, so arousing...pulling me closer to him as I washed his tanned skin in the coolness of the creek.
John's words of discomfort and confusion washed away as he and I both slipped into a state of new, secret, and mutual desire. How many nights I had lay awake picturing what his treasures of boyness looked like...trying my best to recall that aroma of him, wanting to examine very inch of him. John was always active, strong, the first to scramble up hills or climb into trees. His body was compact, strong, firm...a true display of youthful strength and agility. And now it was in my hands, close to me, becoming one with mine. John and I embraced, hugged each other...neither one of us really understanding how this once moment of anguish and despair was now becoming the first sexual experience of two boys who loved each other.