Jack Edwards

Boy Play - Pt 3

I’m not sure how a five-year-old is supposed to handle grief. I know how I did… badly. I wanted Jason back, and it was a long time before I finally accepted that he wouldn’t be coming back.

When I went to bed at night, I took off my jammies and slept naked, the way Jason and I slept when we camped out, and the way we stayed in the mornings as long as we were inside together. I would sleep, clutching an old stuffed Ewok that I had, and I pretended it was Jason. Mom discovered me that way one morning and wanted to know why I was sleeping "without a stich on!" Fortunately, I was face down so my morning stiffy didn't show. "My jamies get all twisted," I complained with one of the best impromptus of my young life. "I can't sleep."

"You must sleep like a little top," she said, patting my bare bottom and picking my jammies off the floor. "Well, no sense washing them if you don't even wear them. Try sleeping in your skivvies."

I nodded, and of course, kept sleeping naked at night, hugging my Ewok or pillow. I eventually did away with the Ewok and got an extra pillow. It wasn't Jason-size, but a lot better size than the little ewok . At least I could get my legs around it. At night, and in the morning, I often jacked myself off the way Jason taught me, using my thumb and fingers to move the skin up and down my stiffy. Sometimes I did it until I got the sensations I used to get with Jason.

My loneliness would have been unbearable, if it hadn’t been for kindergarten. (I didn’t turn six until October, and wouldn’t begin first grade for another year.) Mom dropped me off every day and Grams picked me up. I was still very shy, but Jason taught me that having a friend was wonderful. Problem was, I didn’t know how to find one.

A new boy started coming after Christmas, and I liked him right away. He had dark brown hair and he was bigger than me… well they were all bigger than me. But that was alright. Jason was bigger than me and I liked that.

The new boy wasn’t a fat kid, just tall and strong for our age. Not being very verbal, I tried hugging and clinging to him some, so that he would know I liked to cuddle. However, he evidently did not; he kept pushing me away.

Though only six, I had been sexualized – to use a word I’ve heard before. That’s another way of saying that I’d been introduced to sex, and I liked it. I wanted to do it again. My sexualization had been in the context of a very special relationship with Jason, and so, I wasn’t trying to seduce older boys like some sexualized kids try to do. I looked for a friend to sex with.

I found a little girl who let me cling to her and rub my stiffy against her through our clothing. One of the teacher’s assistants would grin at me when she saw me doing it. The head teacher would always pull me off and make me stay away from the little girl. Needless to say, my social skills did not advance in kindergarten, nor did I find a friend to sex with.

Summer began sadly. I was alone. A childless couple had moved in next door, and every time I saw someone over there, it made me lonely for Jason.

Grams worried about me, and enrolled me in a local swim class. That class was a turning point for me, in more ways than one. First, I fell in love with swimming, and second, I finally realized that most other six-year-old boys and girls didn't want me hanging onto them and rubbing my stiffy on their butts.

At first, the site of all those other little boys wearing only speedos had stirred me to try rubbing on most of them. They didn't always notice what I was up to, while we watched the instructor or waited in the water for a turn to swim. When they did, they pulled away, and the more I tried to cling to them, the more they avoided me. I remember the instructor, a teenage boy, frowning at me a lot. He finally pulled me aside. "You can't do that, Petey," he told me. "You can't go rubbing your cock on everybody. It's nasty, and the other kids don't like it."

I remember crying, not simply because I'd been rebuked, though the embarrassment of that stung, but because I had no idea how to be friends with another kid; at least not the kind of friends I wanted to be. It's good, though, that the teenager did that. I did learn, before I got to elementary school, to not try humping every kid I thought I liked. It kept me from becoming an elementary school pariah.

Fortunately, it was long before puberty and all the craziness that came with hormones. I withdrew, and found other interests, like reading, which I loved from the beginning, and playing in my grandmother’s backyard when the weather allowed.

When second grade ended, and swimming began that summer, I still had no real friends. Grams fretted, and arranged for a cousin to come visit at the end of the summer. He was actually a cousin once removed, or something like that. I had no first cousins my age. Tommy was the son of one of my mom's cousins.

“He’s a quiet boy like you, Petey. His mom has trouble getting him out of the house,” Grams told me. “Maybe you two will be good for each other.”

Tommy lived in Bloomington which was convenient. If it had been much farther, I'm sure he wouldn't have come on this particular errand of mercy. When we picked him up at the bus station, Grams told him how happy she was that he’d come to visit. “Mom made me,” Tommy said simply.

We were both sitting in the back seat, but he didn’t look at me. He kept his eyes on Grams. “My mom said I wasn't doing much but moping around the house anyway, and that you needed me to show Peter how to be ‘socialized’.”

I frowned, wondering what ‘socialized’ meant.

“Well,” Grams said from the front seat. “You and Petey have a lot in common. He’s been moping around, doing nothing as well.”

“Petey,” Tommy said, finally turning to me, but with a condescending grin. “That’s a baby name.”

“It is not,” Grams said. “Not any more than Tommy is.”

“Tommy’s not a baby name,” Tommy protested.

“My real name’s Peter,” I said.

Tommy turned back to me. “So? My real name’s Tomas.”

“OK,” Grams said, from the front seat. “Why don’t you call each other Tomas and Peter?”

We glanced at each other.

“Of course,” Grams said, “those are both saints’ names. Why don’t you both behave like saints while you’re here, Tomas, and we’ll call you St. Tomas and St. Peter.”

Tomas and I looked at each other with distasteful frowns, and then laughed. “St Petey,” he said, teasing. “St. Tommy,” I teased back.

Tommy sat back in the seat and looked out the window a moment before turning back to me. “Hey, you ever play monopoly?” Tommy asked.

I shook my head.

“I brought the Star Wars edition,” he said. “I’ll teach you.”

I was eight, almost nine; he was nine, almost ten… an older boy. I liked him. He was taller, of course, with thick dark hair that was not more than an inch long, anywhere. It looked soft, like a fur. His dark eyes were moody when we first met, but they were becoming friendlier by the moment.

I helped him carry his stuff to the second floor, and to my room. Tommy looked at my twin bed and then around the room.

“My mom is going to make a pallet for me on the floor,” I told him. “You can have the bed.”

He looked at me oddly; I’m sure because eight and nine-year-olds thought nothing of sharing even a twin bed. “Why? Do you wet the bed or something?”

“No,” I said, frowning.

“We can share the bed then,” he said, as if that was a ‘no-brainer.’

“Mom didn’t think you’d want to share my bed with me.”

“I don’t care,” he said. “When I sleep over with friends, we always sleep together.”

I shrugged.

He sat on the edge of the bed, bouncing a little as if testing it. Then he looked up at me with a puzzled smile. "Why would your mom think I wouldn't want to share a bed with you?"

I shrugged again and looked away. "Because I sleep naked." I glanced back at him.

Tommy's smile sagged on one side, but then he laughed. "You almost got me with that one, St Petey."

I shook my head. "No. I really do sleep naked."

His smile sagged again. He considered it, then grinned. "Awesome."

"So you still want to sleep with me?" I asked, mildly surprised.

"Yeah, that's cool," he said, getting up from the bed. "I've never slept naked."

That afternoon, we did something which I decided I wanted to do as soon as I heard Tommy was coming. We went to the public pool to swim.

As much as I enjoyed swimming, I didn't go that often, outside of swim team. That was because, even though I usually found kids to play with when I was there, I didn't have a friend to go with. With Tommy, I did.

Since Tommy was going with me, Grams let us walk, and gave us money to buy pops. When we changed at the pool, we stole glances at each other, the way boys check each other out. Tommy's dick didn’t hang straight down as much as mine did, but sort of arched out in front a little, like some boys' dicks do. Overall, it didn't look much different than mine in size. He wasn't a skinny kid, but he wasn't fat either. He was just sort of normal... well in most places.

I wonder if boys check out each other's butts they way I did back then – I mean an eight year old checking out a nine year old's butt – or if it was just me because of starting sex so young. Anyway, I checked out Tommy's butt. It was a fleshy little butt. I liked it instantly.

I was a lean boy, and as I pulled on my speedo, I saw Tommy noticing – not that my body was a boy's boy type of body, but if I were taller, I think it might have been. Tommy wore one of those baggy suits that made him look really skinny.

Grams had been right; by nature, Tommy was a little like me; quiet and retiring. He later told me that knowing I was shy and quiet, made it easy for him to relax with me right away. It was easier for me, too, to relax with him, knowing the same. Once in the pool, we hung against a wall for a few moments and watched three boys race each other down the other side.

Tommy turned to me. “Wanna race?”


We raced, and then played tag which turned into wrestling and dunking. It was the most contact I had with another boy’s body – at least responsive, mutual contact – since Jason. Tommy was a typical boy, and I could feel his strength. He called me 'St Petey' and I called him 'St Tommy'. We joined some other boys in sharks, and depth charging, and pool rocking, and the afternoon passed quickly.

"Is your mom gonna be pissed that we're so late?" Tommy asked as we headed for home.

I shook my head. "Grams never starts fixing supper until Mom's home, cuz Mom sometimes comes home late. We don't normally eat till late." I had nothing to compare with, but learned from Tommy that Grams wasn't much of a cook. I knew that when it was just her and me around during the day, I was on my own concerning food; probably another reason, besides genes, that I was a lean boy.

We didn't have to bathe that night, since we'd showered after swimming. After supper, we started my first game of Monopoly and it was well after Mom went to bed that Tommy asked when we were going to bed ourselves. I shrugged. Bed times, at least in the summer, were another thing that Grams didn't worry much about, especially since she couldn't make it up the stairs very easily because of her knees. "Now if you want to," I told Tommy.

We brushed teeth and took a bedtime piss together. Then back in my room Tommy waited to see if I really was going to sleep naked. He watched me strip and climb into bed. "Awesome," he said, undressing. He turned out the light, and then crawled into bed naked beside me. My bed was next to a window, and moonlight made it easy to see each other.

I was on my back. He laid down on his back beside me, heads on different pillows. I felt the side of his calf slide against mine and the side of his arm rest against mine. We lay there a moment. "This feels weird," Tommy said, his head rolling toward mine with a grin. "I mean, feeling the sheets with my skin."

"I like it," I told him.

He nodded and looked up at the ceiling. I looked up too, the outside of our arms resting against each other. He lifted his head, looking down his body. I looked, too. "Shit, I'm getting a hard-on," he said quietly. His erection was obvious under the thin, cotton sheet.

I nodded. "I get them all the time."

His head rolled my way again. "It feels cool, being naked in bed."

I nodded. "Yeah."

He lifted his head once more, and looked down my body. "Are you getting a hard on, too?" he asked.

I nodded again. It was becoming as obvious as his.

"Wanna look at each other’s?" he asked.


Tommy threw back the bed sheet and we each pointed our stiffies up at the ceiling. "You got a long one," Tommy observed.

"So do you," I said. In truth, they were both just twigs, but twigs on an eight and a nine year old can look pretty long.

"I bet you've never seen another boy's hard-on," Tommy said. "I have. My buddy and I showed each other our hard-ons once. His wasn't as big as ours."

"Do you ever jack off?" I asked.

"Do you?" Tommy asked, surprised.

I nodded. "Sure," I said and stroked the skin up and down my twig of a shaft with my thumb and fingers.

"Yeah," he said, doing the same. "I've done it some."

"Do you do it till you get the feelings."

He frowned, puzzled. "You can't shoot cum yet, can you?"

"No," I said. "But if you jack off long enough, you get really good feelings."

We were both stroking, and for a few moments, watched each other.

"Have you ever jacked off with someone else?" I asked.

"Like this?" Tommy asked. "No. Uh-uh."

"No, I meant... " I said, "like this." I took my hand from my cock and reached over to his, pushing his hand aside with mine and replacing his thumb and fingers with my own. It had been three years since Jason and I had done that for each other, and I really, really wanted to feel Tommy’s cock. I figured I could do it, and if he didn't like it, I'd still have gotten a feel of him.

He tensed and froze. His cock wasn't as big as Jason's – after all, he was only nine and Jason had been twelve – but I didn't try to wrap my hand around it. It was really hard, and the skin of Tommy's shaft felt really thin, like mine, as I moved it up and down.

"Awesome," he whispered after a moment. And after another moment, he reached over for mine. His fingers felt thick and clumsy, but good, as he began doing for me what I was doing for him. We kept going, and I began making little circles in the bed with my bottom, moving my stiffy in Tommy's fingers. He started doing the same.

We went a while, watching in the moonlight, feeling... not just with fingers and cocks; my forearm lay on his tummy and his on mine. Our shoulders were against each other, and I laid my leg over his and we scooted our hips together.

"It's starting to feel real good," Tommy whispered. "Is that what you meant?"

"It gets better," I whispered, and stroked up and down faster.

He started to do the same. I glanced at him. Tommy's mouth was hanging open. He closed it, and looked at me, and swallowed. "It is getting better," he said

"Don’t jack me off too hard," I told him. "It rubs the skin raw."

He adjusted.

Moments later, his breath caught, and his eyes squeezed tightly closed, and his mouth opened, and his tummy tightened up. He quit stroking me and just stayed all tense for a moment while I stroked him real fast, and he stayed all tense until I slowed down.

"Oh, wow," he whispered, breathlessly, eyes closed.

"That feeling," I said.

He nodded.

"We can't shoot yet," I told him. "But we can get good feelings." I kept stroking, more gently now, and then stopped.

"That was awesome," he said. His fingers were still on my stiffy, and they started moving again.

"Other things feel good," I told him. I stretched my fingers and tickled his small ballsack.

Tommy's eyes closed again, but he kept stroking me. I drew my fingertips up his tummy, and then down around the base of his still-stiff stiffy, and onto his ballsack again. And then around again.

"That feels good," he said.

I wondered how far Tommy would be willing to go. I wondered how far I could take it. I didn't want him to not like me. Tommy, after one day, was closer to a friend than anyone other than Jason had ever been. But I really wanted more. I wanted what I'd had with Jason.

"We can do more," I suggested in a whisper.

"What?" he asked.

"We can rub stiffies together," I told him. I didn't wait for an answer, but rolled up onto my side and tugged Tommy to the middle of the bed. Then I got up onto all-fours and moved over him. "Spread your legs," I instructed. When he did, I shifted my knees to between his legs. Then, supporting myself on my hands, I lowered my middle to his and ground my hips. My eyes met his as I rubbed our twiggish erections between our bellies.

Tommy looked down between our bodies, and so did I. We could see our two crowns poking up and around from between the flats of our smooth bellies, like big skin worms poking up from the same burrow, the little slits in the ends like mouths. Then I lay down onto him and grasped him by the shoulders as I rested the side of my head against his cheek. I felt him lay his hands lightly on my back, and we moved together. Humping is a reflex action for boys.

It was quiet in the room, except for faint, rhytmic sounds from the mattress and our own breath in our ears. He wasn't Jason, but he was a boy, a naked boy, in my own bed; and the skin of my belly and chest and legs was against the skin of his belly and chest and legs. And our stiffies rubbed together, and I could smell his breath… so different from Jason’s and smelling of toothpaste. I turned my face slightly toward his so we could share our breathing.

"Do you like it?" I asked in a whisper.

"It's OK," he said in a throaty voice.

"Pull your knees up and out more so we can really rub good down there."

Tommy did, and I felt the tendons inside his legs stretch between them, hard under my cock. We kept on. I shifted the angle a couple of times; each time, Tommy grunted a little.

"Want to try it on top?" I asked. "It feels different on top."

"Yeah," he whispered.

We rolled, awkwardly clutching each other. And then he was on top, the weight of his body on mine. It was almost like having Jason on top of me again, but Tommy wasn’t inside me. I wondered if he would ever do that.

I opened my legs wide, pulling up my knees, and I grabbed Tommy’s fleshy butt and pulled on it while grinding my stiffy up against his. He clung to my shoulders, the side of his face against the side of my head, and I could feel his breath on my neck.

“It does feel different on top,” he whispered.

I only nodded. I was getting close to having my ‘feelings’. I held his butt tightly, moving it around to grind our cocks hard. And then my breath was catching, and I was getting my feelings. It lasted, as it often does for small boys, for some time.

I relaxed a little, but Tommy kept rubbing.

“That felt weird,” he whispered in my ear. “You got those feelings didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” I whispered back.

“The way you grabbed my butt, I could tell it was feeling really good for you.”

I nodded against the side of his face.

“Can I try it on the bottom again?” he asked. “I want to do it like you did.”

“Sure,” I said, and we rolled again, banging knees and bumping chests.

Once he was on the bottom, Tommy grabbed my bottom like I had grabbed his, and he used the hold to rub me between his legs, stiffy on stiffy. I think he got his feelings again. I wasn’t sure, because we actually fell asleep that way… eventually.

I woke in the night while Tommy was still on his back. I had a leg over his middle and an arm over his chest, clutching his side. When I opened my eyes, I could see his profile in the moonlight; a profile that was uniquely and unmistakably that of a boy. I thought it was beautiful.

His lips looked soft. I thought of Jason, and of our kissing. I gently propped up on an elbow, and with my arm and leg still over Tommy, I bent in the moonlight to press my lips lightly on his. I held them there, briefly, sharing breath with him. I pressed my lips a little harder to his, but he started to stir.

I lay back down, quickly as Tommy rolled onto his side, away from me. When his breathing returned to normal, I scooted up behind him, pressing my body to the back of his taller one. I wrapped an arm over his waist and nuzzled in behind his neck. It felt wonderful, being with another boy like that again.

When I woke in the morning, we were sleeping back to back. Actually, butt to butt, and Tommy had pulled the sheet back up over us. I liked the feeling of his butt against mine.


My email address is jnuanced@gmail.com. As much as I hate to admit this, the story could go to five or six chapters. Are you guys till enjoying this?