Date: Wed, 27 Sep 2006 07:16:06 -0700 (PDT) From: Scott Wilson Subject: Discrete Tranactions Part 6 GM / YF Although the following is based on true events, all characters and locations are purely fictional. If you are under 18 or this type of writing is illegal in your local, please stop reading now. ***************************************************************************** In the sixth installment of the series we get a peek into the mind of Scott's friend Mike and find that things are not always what they seem from outward appearances. We also discover how the lives of some of the other characters are deeply intertwined. The next few parts will include quite a bit of jumping between each character's POV but this is to add some interest to the series, not induce confusion. ***************************************************************************** The next morning Mike opened his eyes and without benefit of a clock knew immediately that it was 7:15 A.M., the time that he had risen every day for as long as he could remember. He didn't do this because he had to, but out of choice-this was the prime opportunity to spend one-on-one time with his father before he left for the hour plus commute to his job. They could talk without interruption from his mother, who wasn't much of a morning person her entire life (her main reason for marrying a man with money was so she wouldn't have to work), or his sister, who if she WAS up at that time had more important things to do...like her newly discovered trick of rubbing her pussy while she imagined the slim fingers of her best friend Katie Morgan was actually doing the deed, like she had at a cheerleader sleepover the previous autumn. Daddy's Little Princess wasn't so innocent afterall. Mike also had an entirely different reason for wanting to be with his father at such a crazy hour. He knew that this was the one time when he could talk with him freely, without having to deal with the zombie he became after he consumed the first of several double Scotch on the rocks. His Dad became an entirely different person once the booze flowed in his veins, and Mike knew whatever he said to him would be heard but not absorbed. Sure, they could sit there and cuddle on the couch and watch the game, but nothing beyond light coversation, thank you very kindly. On this morning,however, the house was the private kingdom of Mike and Scott, and as Mike carefully rolled out of bed as to not disturb his new sex buddy, his morning erection and full bladder demanded his immediate attention. He tiptoed up the cellar stairs and then went upstairs to the bathroom that was almost exclusively his-the master bedroom had it's own bath that was off limits to the children, and his sister had her own bath too, a birthday present her mother insisted was a great addition to the house. Unfortunately for Mike adding the bath resulted in a great subtraction to his bedroom size, but what sis wanted sis got. End of discussion. Now, as Mike emptied his bladder into the toilet his excitment grew for what he knew would be coming next. After he shook off the last drops of urine, he opened the door at the bottom of the vanity and reached in behind the stockpile of bathroom tissue and pulled out the enema bulb from its well hidden spot. He twisted the cap off and put in a little epsom salt and then filled the bulb with very warm water, and got down on the floor in a prone position. Before the nozzle even touched his rectum his cock stiffened again in anticipation, and as he glided the thin plastic tube in and the warm solution filled him, he thought back to how his late grandmother would do the same thing to him: Time for your enema Michael. Yes Grandma. This'll make you clean as a whistle. Yes it will grandma. As that thought left his mind the pressure inside hit the unbearable point and Mike purged his body of the waste he had purposely let build up for the last few days. It wasn't too often that he was able to enjoy this treat, so planning ahead made it all the more better. With his intestines cleared, Mike soaped up a washcloth and scrubbed his butt but skipped his genitals, knowing from previous experience that soap added a terrible aftertaste to a penis. He was going to get another blowjob out of Scott that day no matter what it took, and without ten dollars to spare he'd have to be creative. Mike went into his bedroom and grabbed the undies he had worn from yesterday along with a clean pair of shorts and then went back downstairs naked to find Scott still sleeping soundly, although now he was on his back and uncovered, sporting a morning stiffy that Mike had to restrain himself from sucking on. He could NEVER let Scott know the truth, Mike thought as he felt his own penis snap to attention, and then he let restraint slip a little as he carefully bent over his sleeping friend and caught a whiff of the mild muskiness his privates gave off. As he grew increasingly hornier, Mike thought back to the first time he had experience the forbidden pleasures two boys could share together. He carefully slipped back under the covers and put his arms back behind his head, and waited for his slumbering buddy to wake up. If I play my cards right, Scott will gladly do it to me again, Mike thought. Just like that first time at the secret baseball practice. (Mike's First Time) It was the day after Christmas in 1979, and Mike Thompson was bored to tears. It had been a decent holiday for him gift wise, but he found himself lonely as his father had gone back to work, and his mother and sister were out shopping...man, if there ever was anything he hated it was tagging along with them while they picked over clothes and other sissy stuff! He had been offered to join them, but being at the mall when he had no money to spend wasn't his idea of a good time. Instead he found himself at home, once again with the place to himself. He was sitting around watching nothing in particular on tv when the phone rang, and he almost had the urge to let it go. By the fifth ring, he knew he had to answer it, and it probably was going to be him mom telling him they'd be back later or hopefully her asking him what he wanted from McDonald's. It ended up being something he never expected. "Hello?" "Hey Mike, Merry Christmas. It's Joe Miller calling" "Hey Joe, Merry Christmas. What's up?" Mike instantly knew something WAS up, because Joe Miller was a older boy who had helped his father, Dr. Miller A.K.A. Coach Miller, manage the baseball team he had hoped to get into. He was a sixth grader who had been held back a year under mysterious circumstances, and the last guy who had given him a hard time about it got beaten to a pulp by Joe, who incidentally didn't get so much as a detention even though it happened on school property "How's that pitching arm of yours?", Joe asked and Mike now knew the deal. "Good, I've been outside doing some throwing everyday" "Cool. Look Mike, the draft's going to be soon, and I think Dad wants you on his team..." Mike's heart almost stopped. "...but," Joe continued, "I need you to do something." "Sure...what?" Mike said barely able to contain his excitement. "Dad asked me if I could do a few private tryouts for him, just so he can get an idea of who's going to be good this season, but you know you can't tell anyone this right?" Mike suddenly felt funny. "Right" "Good. Are you doing anything today?" "No", Mike answered truthfully. "My mom's out with Jessica shopping." "Ok, can you come over in a little bit? You know where I live right?" "Yeah" "Just leave when you can. You don't have to bring anything, just yourself." "Ok, see ya in a bit. Thanks Joe!" Mike hung up the phone and was in shock that Joe had not only just invited him over to his place, but wanted him to have a secret tryout. Dr. Miller always had the best teams, and making the squad meant more to him that anything else. Mike knew that it was forbidden to do this, but he put aside his funny feelings and went to his bedroom to get dressed. He looked outside his bedroom window and saw the pileup of snow and decided to dress warmly. He forgot to ask Joe exactly where they would be doing the tryout so Mike assumed it would be outside. He slipped off the t-shirt and sweatpants he was wearing and threw on the new UNC sweatshirt he had gotten for Christmas along with a pair of jeans and his sneakers, and then ran downstairs and threw on his winter garb and headed out the door, making sure he had his key with him. The Miller's lived relatively close to the Thompson's, and attended the same church, but he really didn't know them that well. Dr. Miller had been his pediatrician since he was born, and had even circumcised him, although Mike had no idea yet what that meant. This was only the second time he'd been at his house-the first was when he had to see Dr. Miller after hours when he had sprained his ankle the previous summer, and his frantic mom had driven him there instead of the emergency room. The doctor maintained a secondary office for this purpose, and had kept duplicate files on each of his young patients. This had saved him time and effort, and brought in extra income, not to mention making him a household name within the community. In the heirarchy of grade school Mike was in between the lowly fourth graders who were adjusting to having to switch classes each period, and the sixth graders who were allowed to chew gum in class, but someone who should have been a seventh grader inviting him over was a big deal. He felt a little odd about the whole thing, but he was too caught up thinking about other things to continue worrying about it, like how it would feel pitching for Miller and Associates in a few months. Before he knew it, he found himself walking up the driveway of the Miller's mansion-like home, in awe the HE was being invited there. Mike went to the front door and before he could hit the doorbell, Joe's friendly face appeared in the lead crystal windows of the door and it soon opened. "Hey Joe!" "Hi Mike, come on in!" and the two boys shook hands, something the younger one was still getting used to. Despite the frigid weather Joe was wearing a white t-shirt, kelly green gym shorts with white piping and a pair of brand new Nike running shoes sans socks. The blue-eyed boy's brown hair sported fresh buzz cut, a style he wore year round. Mike peeled off his outerwear and shoes, then the boys exchanged small talk for a few minutes before Joe got down to business. They were standing facing each other when Joe put both hands on Mike shoulders and said, "Mike, you know we can't talk about this, right?" "Uh-huh" "I mean if anyone finds out my dad could be in deep shit, understand?" Mike almost cringed when he heard the steady churchgoer swear. "Yes" "Good, so what we do here stays here, right?" Mike was feeling funny again. "Right" The older boy gave him a scary look followed by a phrase any future big leaguer dreaded, "If you talk you'll sit on the bench all season. That's if you even make it on a team..." For a few tense seconds Mike gazed into Joe's stern eyes and then suddenly he erupted in laugher and ruffled his hand through Mike's hair. "Hey, I'm just messing with ya, relax. Ready for your tryout?" "Yes!" Joe led Mike down a hallway to the back of the house past his father's secondary office door with PRIVATE marked in gold letters, and then opened the door to the basement and turned on the light. Joe led Mike down the steps and had him close the door, and the first thing that caught his attention was how warm it was down there. At home the basement always had the furnace ducts closed to save energy, so this was actually a shock to him. He started to feel warm in his sweatshirt, and regretted not wearing a t-shirt under it. The basement was almost cavernous compared to his at home, and with blackout drapes over all the windows it was almost creepy. The floor was covered in a deep maroon plush carpeting, and in the far corner was some brand new exercise equipment and not one but TWO treadmills, just like the kind he had seen at the country club his parents belonged to, yet wasn't allowed to enter except on special occasions. Opposite of the home gym setup was a table that looked like it could seat twelve people covered with baseball caps, uniforms and bats, and other gear, obviously intended for the next season. There was also a pile a Nike shoe boxes in various sizes, which made the place look like a clothing store. Mike couldn't help feeling envious of this place, and if he made the team he's be enjoying it. Between the table and gym was a archway that led somewhere, but he couldn't tell what was there. There was also a fridge by the archway which amazed him even more. "Ready for your tryout?" "Yeah!" "Ok," Joe said, "Listen carefully. You know it's against the rules to have any tryouts of practices before the offical ones, right?" Mike just nodded. "I'm letting you do this because I think you'd be a great pitcher on my dad's team...but...I'm not completely sure." Joe took advantage of the frown on the younger boys face, "Dad expects disipline on his team, and when he tells you to do something, you do it. No matter what." Mike knew this was getting serious. "Dad's a busy guy, especially this time of the year with everyone getting the flu. So he has me do this to see who the potential winners and losers are, so when WE pick the team we're ahead of the game." Joe put his hands on Mike's shoulder and squeezed them hard, the said. "If you want to be on this team you'll do what I say today or you can leave right now. It's up to you?" Now Mike was scared, but being on the best team in the area was worth it. "Ok, I'll do what you tell me." Joe smiled, and then said, "Ok, you have to get changed first." Mike knew it, he should have brought some gym clothes over, but Mike insisted that he didn't need to bring anything. This was getting weird. Joe led him to the archway and flipped the light switch, illuminating a small locker room that was as large as his living room. There were several open lockers, a bench and a shower stall that could hold several people easily. The walls were covered in mirrors, which made the room seem even bigger. "Ok, undress and I'll get you some stuff to wear. Hey, what size shoe do you wear?" "Seven-and-a-half" "Big feet. Oh, Dad insists the tryouts wear a jock, so take off your undies too." Mike felt funny about changing in front of other boys all his life, and in the past few months the always husky boy had become even more self conscious as he had gained a few more pounds and his chest bore slightly puffy breasts. At 5'3" and 129 pounds he was bigger than the average boy but he carried his weight well and wasn't the typical inactive overweight kid. Mike just ate too much. He slowly stripped off his clothes and soon was completely naked. The warmth of the basement was actually quite nice now, and even his scrotum was relaxed along with his penis. It wasn't often that he looked at himself naked in the mirror, but in here it was hard not too. His thoughts were interupted when Joe returned carrying a few pieces of clothing and a Nike shoe box, and the self-conscious boy quickly forgot he was naked, allowing Joe a good look at what he wanted to see. Joe delibertly handed him the shoebox first, and Mike gasped when he opened it up to find a pair of brand new custom colored training shoes with a pair of ankle socks inside. "I can wear these?" If you make the team they're yours, but today you can use them." "Wow, thanks Joe" "Welcome" Joe then handed him the jockstrap which Mike immediately put on, and then gave him a pair of gym shorts made of a very thin grey cotton, almost like the tighty whities he always wore but one size too big. Mike was expecting a shirt, but Joe just told him he didn't need one. He slipped the low cut socks on the then the shoes, which fit like a glove. Once dressed, Joe grabbed a clipboard and a stopwatch, and told Mike to stretch out for a few minutes and then they'd start the tryout. He did the same stretches he had been taught to do before regular practice, and as soon as he was limbered up he knew Joe was going to start. Joe laid out the routine to Mike, which he knew was going to be a challange. Ten standing squats followed by ten pullups, then ten pushups and ten situps, as fast as possible. When Joe said start Mike hit the exercises one by one, then rested until he told him to start again. The first three cycles went smoothly, but by the fourth time he was getting tired and his body was aching, and by the sixth time he was ready to stop. Mercifully, Joe pulled the plug on this test. "Very good", he said, "You did really well. Ok, now lets see how your hitting is." Mike handed him a bat and the right hander assumed his swinging stance, and when Joe told him to swing he went for the invisible ball. By swing number forty he was getting tired, and Joe stopped at fifty, then told him to try it left handed. Mike looked at him like he was crazy, and all Joe offered was,"If you want to be on the team fifty left swings now." This was getting tiring. By now Mike was covered in sweat, and Joe went to the fridge and handed him a can of soda, which he drank slowly. He wasn't sure what to say or do next, but Joe's expression of uncertainity made him wonder if he made the cut or not. "How you feeling?" Joe asked. "A little tired. And hot" "When we have the tryouts we keep it warm in here to see how you handle the heat...which you did well at. You could be faster, and if you lost a few pounds you would be, be we can work on that. Still want to be on the team?" "Yes!!!" "Ok, if you want to join there's one other thing we have to do." "What?" "I need to check your endurance", Joe said as he walked over to the treadmill, "so hop on and we'll get this started" Mike, who by then was seriously tired, dreaded this idea, but after going this far quitting now wasn't an option. All he could hope was that this test wouldn't be too long. Joe told Mike to step on the treadmill and he turned it on, setting the speed for two miles an hour. "Try this for a few minutes, but I want you to increase the speed every five minutes by a tenth," pointing to a clock on the wall," until you've been on it an hour. Then we'll slow down and stop." Just what Mike didn't want to hear, but he did as he was told and reluctantly turned on the machine. IT wasn't so bad, he thought, and his sore legs started to feel loose again after a while. Joe then sat down at the desk and looked over the form he had written on, but he actually had other stuff on his mind. With Mike unable to see him without turning around completely, he had a good view of the chubby younger boy bouncing on the treadmill, a view he found tantalizing. He had Mike exactly where he wanted him, and soon he'd get his reward. With Mike preoccupied with going nowhere on the treadmill, Joe slipped into the locker room area and carefully made note of how the tighty whities were placed on the hook in the locker before picking them up and sniffing the crotch area, which had a slightly musky scent, nowhere near as powerfull as the one his own crotch gave off. He saw the skidmarks on the seat of the undies and then put them back on the hook, and in a impromptu move stripped his clothes off and changed into his own running gear he kept in one of the lockers. He loved how the silky shorts and singlet made him feel naked, and with the running shoes on it was as if he was as light as a feather. In the mirror he had a good look at the small patch of sporadically placed pubes that rested above his flaccid four inch member, and after pulling up the shorts he could see he still didn't have any underarm hair, a visual check he did every day. After putting on his shoes he stretched out his legs and arms, and then went out to see that Mike was still going at it, now at 2.2 miles an hour. He was sweating profusely, and seeing this Joe grabbed a two water bottles out of the fridge. He stepped on the treadmill and told the other boy that he figured he'd join him and placed the water bottle in a holder for the grateful younger boy. He turned the treadmill on and started it up, and then began to think about the day his life changed and he opened his eyes to what he really was. (Inside Joe's Thoughts) A few months earlier in the summer of 1979 Joe Miller had been browsing through the new album releases at Top Secret Records, a small music store that specialized in offbeat and rare albums located on a one way sidestreet in nearby Blackville, a quick shortcut away through the lush woods that separated his wealthy hometown of Carolton from the lower middle and working class suburb he was now at. The shop was owned by Jim Stampford, a widower who had a son close to his age that Joe had come to know fairly well by often helping with various chores while loitering at the store-free labor Jim didn't mind. Matt Stampford had a few common demoninators with Joe, having been held back a year at school and being in the upper percentile in height for thier age group. Matt was a shy, dark blonde haired blue-eyed stocky kid with an English accent who was always jumpy (his one nervous tic of pulling up his shirt and quickly exposing his chubby navel and then "adjusting" his genitals drove his late mother up the wall), but the two boys got along well and found that they shared a common interest in the newer heavy metal and hard rock music that the shop had a large section devoted too and was often played over the in house stereo at a subtle yet still noticable volume. Joe spent as much time as he could at the shop, going over the new releases and admiring the dark imagery the album covers often portrayed, and after a while found himself captivated by the heavy guitars,throbbing bass and thundering drums with soaring vocals (more like screams!) added as icing on the cake. He couldn't afford to buy the imported albums, and would have a really tough time explaining to his church going parents the artwork, so he found himself only able to enjoy his newly found favorite genre in the shop. Matt had often seen Joe in the store, but his shyness had prevented him from really making any converation or even attempts at friendship. He often stayed in the back room and watched Joe through the two way mirror, and today he did the same, thinking how good he looked in the skimpy nuthugger shorts other boys wore but he could never fit into, and as he gazed dreamily he carried out his nervous tic, this time feeling stiffness by the time his hand hit is crotch. He was still reeling in sorrow for his mother, Lauren, and Uncle Jack Conway who had been killed in a car accident during his uncle's visit in England where his folks ran a very successful importing business. Of course he didn't know that his mom and Uncle were having an affair, but after the autopsy revealed she was pregnant, confirming his devasted father's suspicions. A few months later he crushed Matt with the news that they would be moving back to the United States so they could be his Godson and nephew John Conway, and his mother. Immediately Matt had adjustment problems, not only with the conservative locals treating his foriegn accent with suspicion, but the fact that nobody there shared his love for football, the sport Americans gave the ridiculous name soccer. Back home he was a star player despite his stockiness, and he played on a top youth team. When he talked about the sport everyone in school looked at him like he was nuts, and then to make matters worse the school decided to hold him back a year because the way he spoke and wrote wasn't in standard American English...mainly his habit of saying "me" instead of "my". Further segrated from other kids his age, Matt withdrew into the safe world of heavy metal music and American food. Within a few months the active boy had turned into an overweight slug. His only positive thing in life had been his first cousin John, who shared a common grieving over a dead parent. The boys had become close friends, and often stayed the night over each other's houses. Like Matt, John had been an active boy before his father passed, and played baseball in the spring and summer and football in the fall, and the stockiness he shared with his cousin had also turned to fat after his father's death. They were both becoming more and more body counscious, but Matt was different in that he would wear shorts despite showing off his chubby thighs and had no trouble taking off his shirt in the summer even though it exposed his growing boy boobs. If anyone made fun of him they dealt with his temper and fist, skills honed at the private school he attended in England. John on the other hand always wore sweatshirts to school and would never fight back when picked on, making school a hellish experience. John had also become lazy in the personal hygeine department, and took a bath once a week only after his mother would spank him for refusing to, and even then she had to really do it until the pain was too much for him to bear. She didn't know how to handle her now unruly son, and as much as it hurt her to hit him at least that worked enough. Matt, used to taking daily showers in a communal stall after football practice, finally took it on himself to teach his cousin how to keep himself clean when the stench became too much for him when John was around. On one particularly dreary spring Saturday the boys were hanging out in the Conway basement playing blackjack (a secret game he learned at school and made a small fortune at his classmates expense) and the body odor that radiated off of John was too much for Matt to handle. So Matt came up with the brilliant idea of playing Dares, another card game he learned at school. It was simple, each player wrote out three dares and three challanges on separate folded pieces of paper, and they played blackjack. The loser of each round had to pick a dare and a challange, the winner didn't. The first one to have 3 dares and challanges could pick one of each from the pile and then had to do one or the other. They naturally were stupid things, like reciting the alphabet while picking your nose or something along those lines. Matt took advantage of the situation and wrote "Take a Shower" on each folded paper, and then guaranteed the successful outcome by using marked cards. After the game was over and John realized what he had to do he started to cry but Matt held his ground, and marched the sobbing boy over the the shower stall in the basement corner he had always used when staying at his house. When John wouldn't undress, Matt took matters into his own hands and forcibly stripped his scared cousin, pulling off the sweatshirt and getting his first look at his girlish body. The hurt expression on John's face made him stop, and he now realized how he was actually teasing his cousin who trusted him more than anyone else. Thinking quickly, he offered to take a shower with his cousin so the both would have to take one. John nodded and slowly unbuttoned his jeans while Matt began undressing, and then stopped when he was clad in just his tighty whities, now yellowed from being worn so long. Again, John froze up and Matt knew it was from fear of being seen naked, an emotion he had struggled with at first when he had to take showers with other boys. "I have one too. Nothing I haven't seen before" he told John. "You haven't seen mine!" came out of John's mouth, who in fact had never seen another boys penis. Matt pulled off his undies and John couldn't take his eyes off the four inch long thin thing that hung limply between his cousins legs, and then pulled off his undies and exposed the two inch appendage that was twice as thick and also looked like the end of a cigar. Matt, who was shocked to see his American born cousin wasn't circumcised, turned on the water in the stall and they both walked in. The warm water felt great on John's back, and for the first time ever taking a shower this wasn't so bad, but he really didn't know what to do next. Matt took the cue and poured some shampoo into the hands and lathered up his cousins hair, who need 3 complete shampooings to get rid of the greasiness. He then lathered up and washcloth and scrubbed himself then his cousin, who wasn't having such a bad time afterall. After putting alot of attention on John's derriere, he told him to turn around and pull his skin back on his willy, and John turned around and gave Matt a look as if he was nuts. "Pull my skin back? On my what?" "Willy", Matt said then touched his penis. "What skin?" "Your prepuce dummy" "My prep what?" Matt now understood that his cousin had probably never been shown how to slide his prepuce back to clean under it, and now he'd have to teach him. He reached down to his own member and pushed the skin back, showing John how to rinse off the whitish coating on the purple head, and neglected to mention how good it felt to have the shower spray hit the sensitive glans. John was absolutly captivated by this and reached down to push the skin back but was only met with resistance after a little pressure was applied. Matt remembered how his phys ed instructor had done routine prepuce checks on the boys in his class, so he decided that he would have to do it for John as well. "Want me to show you how it's done?" John could only shake his head. Matt reached down to his cousins sack and tickled it until his penis stiffened and then he gently applied pressure on the loose outer skin and pushed it back a little and then foreward a little, each time exposing a little bit more of the glans. John had no idea what he was feeling except it was the best sensation ever even though it hurt a little. Finally Matt had the head exposed and he rinsed off that looked like tapoica from the other boy's penis and John's knees almost buckled when the shower spray hit the freshly denuded glans, giving him the sense of having to pee really bad. With the boys clean, they toweled off and then realized they both were without any clean clothes. As Matt watched John dry off he realized his cousin was still hard, so he took the opportunity to share a secret with him. "Ever wanked?" "Huh?" "You know, wank...uh, rub your willy?" John,who was getting tired of his English cousin's verbage, answered with "You mean my dick?" while pointing to his own stiff member. "Yeah" Matt said. John, who never thought about touching his penis other than peeing or the rare occasions when he bathed, wasn't understanding the concept, although after seeing how good having the skin pulled back felt, and how he was how sporting a erection at a different time besides the morning, found this rubbing idea interesting. Matt had made a habit of wanking every day after football practice, and while he didn't think about anything other than how good it felt to do the act, this time was different. He knew boys weren't supposed to touch each other down there, but this was his cousin. And part of him wanted to do this. "Did you like how I tickled your sack?" "Yeah, it felt funny" "Feel good?" "Yeah" "Tickle mine then" John felt strange with this request, but the fear of losing his only friend was too great for him. He reached over to his cousins relaxed sack and tickled it, making his penis stick instantly straight up. "Okay, push the skin back and then foreward" John did and he felt the smooth gliding action, and then when Matt told him to keep going and not to stop he did, even after his arm became tired. He was about to halt when the burning sensation became almost unbearable and then he heard his cousins near hyperventilating breathing slow down as his stiff tool throbbed rapidly in his hand. Matt had never had anybody wank him, and his new best friend did better than his own hand. Now suddenly relaxed, he placed his hand on John's much thicker penis and gently stroked it while his cousin writhed in pleasure, and after a few minutes he begged Matt to stop because he though he was going to pee on the floor but he just kept going until the same violent pulses pumped his organ into a frenzy. "What WAS that???" John asked. "Pretty good huh?" "You bet!" After that day the cousins did thier secret act in the basement whenever they could together, and sololy after school and before going to bed at thier own homes. They never talked about doing it, they just did it. Now, back in the music store Matt was looking at Joe Miller, getting a good side view of him in those grey sweat shorts with white piping that were so attractive. He heard his father come into the back room, and looking at the clock he knew that he was going to leave the store for his usual hour break at the local bar a few blocks away. Matt expected this, and even the store's posted hours reflected this. Matt often stayed at the store and hung out, listening to new releases and making cassette copies of them before carefully resealing the albums while he ate his hefty lunch that contained enough food for at least 3 adults. Mr. Stampford walked out to the door and Joe followed him, but then he told the boy he could stick around and hang out with Matt if he wanted. A store owner letting him stay while the store was closed? Sure! He thanked Mr. Stampford, and then walked into the backroom, pausing only when he heard the sound of the CLOSED sign being flipped into the window and the lock being turned. In the backroom Matt was sitting on the couch his father had often crashed out on after coming back from his liquid lunchwearing a sleeveless white t-shirt and a pair of maroon nylon gym shorts that looked way too big on him, his blonde hair in a very short buzz cut that at a distance gave the impression of baldness. Matt looked at Joe and felt his penis come to life again in his shorts, and his nervous tic once again happened despite his every effort not to let it happen, not now at least in front of his only non-related friend. Matt of course had no idea (at least yet) that this particular habit was very appealing to Joe, who was finding himself confused-not to mention terrified-that he liked when the tic happened, and when his own penis stiffened as a result he had to combat his intense urge NOT to look. He found himself with boners at unusual times, and although from secretely reading his physician father's medical books about puberty he knew how this was happening, he wasn't exactly aware that it would be the result of looking at another boy's bare flesh. The erection he now had was impossible to hide from his buddy in the light colored shorts, and despite his best efforts he couldn't make it go away. He hoped that Matt hadn't noticed, but he wasn't going to be that lucky. The shy boy looked down and said "You got a boner!", and Joe just wanted to crawl in a hole and die right then, but seeing his friend had one too he countered with "So do you arsewipe!", using a slang expression the English boy had taught him. Realizing that they had experienced an otherwise mortifying moment together and could laugh about it, they both suddenly felt at ease, yet the bloodflow was still active below thier waists. Matt, who was a pro at taking care of his own erectile situations several times a day knew what he really wanted to do, but there was no way he could spend the fifiteen to twenty minutes required in the bathroom with Joe around, and asking his only friend to leave was out of the question. He developed a sudden braveness and the words slipped out of his mouth before he realized what he had said: "Let's have us a wank" "A WHAT???" asked a confused Joe. Now Matt was freaking out, and his face reddened to a deep hue that almost matched his shorts. Joe had absolutely no idea what masturbation was, but he knew that touching his penis other than when peeing or washing was a bad thing, as he had tragically realized when his late grandmother had caught the then first grader with his pants down in her basement, flicking the smooth glans back and forth with his fingers, which were soon being held over an open flame on her stove that burned as much as the clamp style clothespin placed on the tip of his penis. He hated how she had called him a filthy pig and learned his lesson well from that, never touching himself for pleasure again, no matter how strong the urge was too. Matt did an up and down hand gesture, and now Joe knew what he was talking about. "I can't!", he screamed, feeling the memory of the brutal punishment relived again. He still had an almost painful erection which made it even tougher for him to not be able to handle. Matt also had the same dilema, but he wasn't willing to wait until he was alone to do the act. "You've never done it???" Joe was trapped, but now he also felt that he could be honest the the other misfit boy. "Yeah...but...I got caught". He the story of the severe punishment, and then was even more shocked with the solution Matt offered: "I'll help you if you promise not to tell anyone" Joe thought he was dreaming, but was powerless as his hormones were now taking over his thoughts. All he could do was nod, and Matt left the room for a few moments, and then returned carrying two empty glasses. He had a clue what they were for, but couldn't bring himself to say it. Matt slipped off his shirt and carefully placed it over the couch so it wouldn't wrinkle, with Joe following the lead and removing his, and then Matt approached Joe and slipped down his shorts and underwear together to his knees, his erection popping up and giving the horned up blonde a good view of his friend's sparse pubes and low hanging sack. He asked Joe to do the same to him, saying that he didn't have to touch him down there if he didn't want too. He pulled down Matt's shorts and saw an uncut penis for the first time that was darker in color than his and was surounded with a forest of light blonde hair. With the glasses on a nearby table in reach, Matt told him to relax and to let him know when he started to feel like he had to pee, and then placed Joe's right arm around his shoulder and reached around with his left arm behind the thin boys back and gripped the cut penis at the same time he put his own right hand on his own member. The soothing warmthness Joe felt relaxed him, and the grip of Matt's warm, soft hand was out of this world. Matt asked him if he was ready, and he nodded and then felt the loose shaft skin being simultaneously tugged on while his chubby friend slid his own skin back, exposing a purple head that was a stark contrast to his tan one. Matt had perfected this skill with his cousin during many wanking sessions, but Joe didn't need to know that, and anyway his thoughts were somewhere else. This was too good to be happening to him. After a few minutes his thoughts were interrupted by a popping sound coming from his crotch, and Matt stopped rubbing himself and positioned the glass so Joe's urethra was inside of it. The pleasure was getting more and more intense for him, and he was now breathing harder and faster with each passing minute, and standing up was becoming a challange. You're about to come, Matt told him, and all he could do was put his arms behind his head. He soon felt that urge to pee growing inside of him, and he opened his eyes and looked down forcibly when Joe told him too. He then had an overwhelming sensation that he could only compare to having to empty his bowels urgently that just grew stronger and stronger. The rubbing was now like a jackhammer, and then his penis became stiffer and redder than he had ever seen before and a blast of runny clear fluid exploded from the tip and into the cup and he almost fell over in pleasure. He felt several more contractions and saw less and less fluid released as the strokes slowed down. The now sweaty boy looked at the clear fluid in the glass and knew at once that he had just released sperm for the first time, and even though he had experienced several small wet dreams before (ignorantly thinking it was just because he had to pee really bad) this was way different. He pulled his shorts up and sat on the couch, and then felt bad as he watched Matt continue to stroke himself. He stood up and only said, "Let me help you out", and the stunned blonde boy placed his arms behind his head and soon felt Joe's presence behind him followed by his right hand on his cock. Joe had never touched another penis, and lightly ran his index finger over the glossy, wet glans and then tried stroking it with different hand positions until he found one that felt comfortable. He soon felt the same tension in the other boy's body he had just experienced, and placed the empty glass the same way to capture what he know knew would come out. Matt buildup was fast and seconds later a think milky white stream poured out and kept on coming, soon filling the cup with twice the volumne as his own ejaculation. For a few moments they stood there, then Matt looked at the wall clock and grabbed the glasses, realizing that he father would soon be staggering back to the store. Joe slipped his shirt on while Matt went into the bathroom and soon her heard water running followed by a toilet flushing. What he couldn't see was Matt drinking his sweet, warm ejaculation then downing his own juices, then rinsing out the glasses that foamed up and gave off a faint, bleachlike scent. As soon as he left the bathroom Joe followed his lead closed the door and peed, then licked his fingers and indirectly found out what a penis tasted like. Not bad at all, he thought. Kind of like sucking on a finger but saltier. He exited the bathroom just in time to hear Mr. Stampford struggle with the front door lock, finally opening it on the third try. Joe followed Matt to the sales floor, and heard the tipsy store owner ask Matt if he enjoyed his lunch, almost making the blond burst out laughing. They both heard the drunk man fall into the couch, and at once Joe felt bad for his friend. They headed to the storeroom that also had a two way mirror, and while they sat waiting for anybody to come in the business Joe threw his arms around Matt and gave him a solid hug, and the chubby boy almost melted into his arms. The gesture lasted a few minutes, interrupted by two older teens that came in asking about the newest imports. The shyness that Joe had come to expect from Matt had vanished just long enough for him to ring up four albums, and then returned as he walked back into the storeroom, resulting in a repeat of the nervous tic. "Why do you do that?" "What?" "You know, this", then Joe duplicated the tic, capturing the other boy's full attention. Matt was silent, and looked down, but Joe wouldn't give up. "Come on, tell me." Matt again was silent, then threw his arms around Joe and whispered into his ear, "So I can tell if another guy's into me or not". Joe knew exactly what that meant, and right now he needed another hug more than anything. *** Now, back in the basement on a frigid December day, a sweating and horny Joe Miller thought about how he would introduce Mike Thompson to the 3S's, better yet known as the Secret Sex Society. He was the founder and President, and it's members included Matt Stampford and his cousin John Conway, and a goofy redhead named Danny Jackson, whom Joe had met not at all by accident at his father's office where Danny was a patient. Unknown to the rather tired Mike, all the members of the 3S's were in the downstairs bedroom, laying around naked as the day they were born on the rather large queen sized bed, silently watching a video of different boys trying out for the baseball team, which included scenes of them changing into the practice gear and then taking a shower after they were done. Thanks to the new-and very expensive- technology of home video cameras and VCR's the three chubby boys got to preview potential team members and find out who had the biggest and smallest equipment afterall. A peephole in the locker room had already given the boys a good view of Mike naked and they liked what they saw. Now they could only hope he was desperate enough to join them.