Date: Fri, 17 Sep 2004 14:44:12 +0000 From: LKing 4You Subject: "Inquisitive" DISCLAIMER: -------------------- The following story is a work of fiction which is sexual in nature. If you are under the age of 18, or the subject matter is not legal in the area you reside, please do not read any further. Any similarities between the characters and someone living or dead is purely coincidental. This material is copyrighted and may not be published or reproduced without the expressed written consent of the author. Unedited single copies, including this disclaimer, may be shared with others as long as no remuneration is derived from doing so! The author welcomes any comments or constructive criticisms. As usual, flames and bashers will be ignored. Please direct your comments or questions to: lmtdedition(at)hotmail.com "INQUISITIVE" ---------------------- Ricky Manichewitz was always an inquisitive lad. One could honestly say that he was the consumate inquisitor in fact. Everyone knows someone with a mind similar to Ricky's. Some of you might even claim that you harbor some degree of overly intense fascination with how things work, or are constantly asking those inner questions about why the order of things is the way it is. After all, 'inquiring minds want to know'. Right? I don't think when Sigmund Freud wrote 'what a distressing contrast there is between the radiant intelligence of the child and the feeble mentality of the average adult' he had Ricky or his parents specifically in mind. I just think he was aware that adults have forgotten the awe and wonder that accompanies the discovery of things for a child. Now there are those that are thinkers and there are those who also act on their thoughts. Ricky Manichewitz was the poster boy for twelve year old adventurism when it came to acting on his curiosity as he rummaged daily through the soup of life's discoveries. In fact, he pretty well made Dennis the Menace look like a sloth when it came to his exploits. If Ricky was complex, then his mother Madeline was his antithesis. To say she had a one track mind is likely being kind. For the most part she was mired in a fog, as she traipsed through her days. A 'recent convert' was how the neighborhood would generally describe her. She was middle class, from the middle of the country; a middle sibling with eight sisters (4 up and 4 down), not to mention from a middle income family, and about as staunch a Catholic as it gets. That, and the fact there was zilch for brothers left her ill equipped to relate to a son. Especially one like Ricky. Saul, Ricky's father should have been named "Absentia", since that is what he was in, most of the time. As a successful investment banker, he was a good provider, but all of his contact with Ricky was along the lines of maintaining 'tradition' with the same exuberance as Tevye in "Fiddler on the Roof". How Saul and Madeline came together to wrought out Ricky will forever be one of life's greatest mysteries. Most would concur it was a blessing that they begat just the one however. That turned out to be fine with Ricky as it gave him territorial rights over the Manichewitz manor. It was just the three of them, save one. Ricky's faithful sidekick Pudge, the aptly named obscenely obese Basset Hound which was Tonto personified as he waddled the house following Ricky from nook to cranny through their domain. Ricky claimed that he and Pudge just "knew" what the other was always thinking. This probably explains some of how he jointly seemed to end up a part of Ricky's stunts du jour. Being overly curious is certainly not a crime, but the results of Ricky's zealous pursuits to quench his thirst for knowledge could sometimes have a rather lasting effect, as most of those around him would attest. The fact that there was all too often a burgeoning libido serving as the catalyst that drove his daily pursuits was especially not lost on others! If Ricky had a flaw, it was his curiosity clashes with common sense. The two were about as far apart as the polar ice caps. No, when ricky was on a quest, common sense went on a holiday. Ricky also had no malice of forethought in announcing his latest discovery either. It was a routine result to spontaeously share it instantly with others. He could also be doing one thing while simultaneously thinking of a lot of other things. I think they call that 'multi-tasking' these days. Such was the case on a fateful Wednesday afternoon, during one of his mother's feeble attempts to fit in with the neighborhood by hosting her weekly ladies bridge gathering, that a stark naked, eleven year old Ricky appeared at the entrance to the living room. Looking down at the wooden ruler held tightly along the perpendicular length of his proudly erect penis, he gallantly announced. "It's two centimeters longer now mother"! "That's nice dear," she replied bidding "Three Spades," as she glanced up over her trifocals to see two alabaster globes rounding the corner and disappearing down the hallway. It was the better part of the afternoon before she had sorted out why it was, at just that moment, that Gladys Goldfarb had hit the floor cold, while ten other women rushed to revive her. Ricky's mother wasn't slow exactly. It was just that her central processor was often on the fritz due to the unfortunate incident when Ricky was nine. It was common knowledge at the Manichewitz household that both Ricky and Pudge liked their 'Skippy Peanut Butter', 'Chunky' style of course! In fact, one could make a good argument for it contributing mightily to Pudge's current condition. Since the duo generally were easily trackable because of their decibel level hovering just under 130, the obvious silence was what attracted her attention. Instinct is inbred or a lot of things would obviously go unnoticed. However, in this case it drew her to the confines of Ricky's bedroom hearing "Open Wide for Chunky" as she rounded the door jam to discover him in the process of sliding a peanut butter laden erection into the profusely slobbering jaws of a trustworthy and faithful, albeit hungry Pudge's mouth. Now you would have thought that she would have had at least some limited experience with Saul to draw on, but shouting "What are you doing?" somehow was lost on Ricky's reasoning powers. To say he was put off by her shuttling him at mach speed into the bathroom shower and separating him from man's best friend, not to mention the conclusion to his experiment, was a hugh understatement. It's just a good thing she didn't see the remnants and caramel colored smears which still anointed young Ricky's hind end. That might have put Madeline in the madhouse! Why Saul never heard about this can only be attributed to something somewhere between the sanctity of the confessional and how on earth she could even utter the words necessary to relate this to him. Ricky's secrets became hers. Suffice it to say that that the words 'long suffering' took on a whole new meaning in the Manichewitz house after that! To say his mother never traversed the house the same is putting it mildly! On the other hand, since she was the only other omnipresent animate being besides Ricky and Pudge, their paths were destined to cross again with much the same results. Such was the case several months later when, what she came to intimately call 'the silence' returned to rear its ugly head once more. Experience being a great teacher still couldn't dissuade her from her duty. It was with great reluctance she travelled down the hallway to his room again, slowing as she heard strained grunts, groans and canine whimpers wafting in the air. Nothing from her Catholic craddle-to-grave training had quite prepared her for the sight of the dynamic duo's naked contortions up against the closet door as they squirmed and maneuvered their torso's in desparate attempts trying to lick their own balls. Whoever said 'discretion is the better part of valor' had nothing on Madeline. Besides "What are you doing?" wasn't going to cut it this time! No, a quiet and hasty retreat was the only viable solution to this one she decided. Thus, the remaining pair spent the better part of the next ten minutes with an ever decreasing capacity to get even close. Come to think of it, it was about this time that his mother began wearing those glasses. In spite of all this, Ricky had it in his own mind that he and his mother were definitely not on the same playing field. What's a boy to do? You get up in the middle of the night and sprint to the bathroom to relieve yourself. I mean, what's the big deal? "So what if your aim isn't all that great," he muttered. Now, after being repeatedly told she wasn't going to keep putting up with "the splatters" as she called them, Ricky being the consummate adapter decided it would be just as easy to sit for his pee, only to get the rudest awakenings as he clamored in the dark and promptly squashed his little nuts on the lid of the toilet seat tme and time again! Nope, definitely not on the same playing field! His exploits were not confined just to his bedroom, or even the house for that matter. Like most guys his age, Ricky was a devoted comic book fan, especially all the super heros and masked marvels. It would have been just fine if he had relegated himself to being just a reader like his friends. But that ever present curiosity always popped up to take control over his actions. Take for instance the two weeks he took trying to answer how Superman, went from his fully clothed Clark Kent persona one instant, to the costumed hero off to save the world the next second. 'How can he change so fast', Ricky would ruminate for hours on end. Finally, carrying his Holloween rubber mask and full Spider-Man suit carefully hidden underneath his clothes, Ricky slipped into the early afternoon sunlight and slinked along the garage, preparing to carry out his experiment. He would solve the puzzle and move on to other more exciting endeavors. In retrospect he could have cut himself some slack by choosing Superman instead. However, that was part of Ricky's thinking too. If he could do it as Spider-Man, then the rest would be a snap. No, full-goose-bozo or nothing seemed to be Ricky's analysis all the time. So it was that a streaking Ricky broke from the shadows and tore across the front lawn at warp speed, frantically disrobing while simultaneously attempting to jam the rubber mask over his already profusely sweating face. He forgot of course that super hero's don't yell as they clandestinely make their chamelion like transformations. So, with the sounds of the charge of the light brigade onward swept our burgeoning hero. Why it was that once again Gladys Goldfarb would be the one neighborhood pedestrian on the sidewalk at this instant, only fate can take the blame. A screaming 12 year old racing towards you ripping off his clothes was pretty much all the catalyst poor Gladys needed to take a header into the begonias adorning the edge of the parking, once again out like a light. It seems Gladys had a penchant for being in the wrong Ricky place at the the wrong Ricky time. As for Ricky, 12 more strides and his pants hit his ankles, thus ending his mobility entirely too. So it was with unheralded fanfare he also skidded to a halt, like a bull elephant hit by a savage slug. Ricky never read another comic book after that. He had more important things to do! Not all of Ricky's exploits went discovered of course. Now at twelve, Ricky was well on his way into a new era of inquisitiveness. All twelve year olds get erections he knew. Of course, Ricky was probably the only one who was borderline priapismatic. His never hurt, albeit sometimes rubbed a tad raw, but then he didn't think his friends gave theirs the same attention he gave his either. He spent about as much time looking at and playing with it as he did looking at naked guys on the internet. Saul had blessed him with a fully equipped system, broadband and his encouragement to become computer literate. He was a giver of things rather than a giver of himself, and his mother in her own way rationalized that this locking of his door was him locking himself in, instead of locking her out! Now she finally had the rest of the house. Freedom at last! Ricky would sit at that 'puter' or lay on his bed and frig that penis passionately and often. There just wasn't anything better a twelve year old could get than the "tinglies" as Ricky called them. He had discovered them early too! Their house sat on a corner lot, which meant that the street sign mounted atop the silver painted pole on the parking had drawn his attention about the time he turned six. Imagine his utter surprise when the decision to climb that stanchion would change his life forever! There he stood at the bottom of his 'Everest' determined to shimmy up that thing and reach for the clouds. Wrapping his little corduroy covered legs tightly around that pole and starting his hand over hand ascent to the sky became a life transforming event. About half way up, the friction of the pole against his crotch started feeling really weird. But, it was an exciting weird too! By three quarters of the way those sensations had spread throughout his groin and his attraction to that pole took on a whole new meaning! It must have been when his slender arms started to get tired and he ever so slowly would slide just a bit down that the up and down motions mysteriously began to take over. By the time Ricky grabbed ahold of the numbered street marker at the top, his cocklett was a full on stiffy and he was hanging there humping that post like there was no tomorrow. Then out of nowhere the very first 'tinglies' hit and the throbbing intensity knocked him to the ground as if he had been struck by lightning. No way was he going to tell anyone else about this! If the other guys knew every kid in the neighborhood would be glued to that precious pole all day. No siree! This was his spot and who cares if the rest of the people in the neighborhood thought he was short on brain cells for the countless times over the next five years he was out there wearing out the crotch of another pair of pants or shorts. 'Tinglies' I love ya he would smile to himself every time his butt hit the ground. All that time spent on the corner came to an abrupt halt the day after his computer arrived. There on his monitor were pictures and stories and websites devoted to the anatomy of the male and what do to with it! You might say that he had a revelation of mythical proportions when he discovered masturbation in all its variety and form. After a full afternoon of discovery and experimentation, Ricky had found nirvana and his hand a new friend. As Ricky slipped into his dreams that night his last concious thought was this just HAD to be the reason that God made his arm just the right length to get his 'tinglies'! If necessity is the mother of invention, then invention rides shotgun with inquisitive. Inventions to bring on the 'tinglies' took front and center in Ricky's life. His vocabulary was expanding just about as rapidly as his penis was too. 'Tinglies' got replaced with orgasm or 'cum' which he hadn't yet, but knew he would shortly. He also found there were lots of other things he could hump til he 'came' too, so variety was the game of life now and Ricky an avid player. It was just a matter of time then that the household vacume made its way from the hallway closet one rainy afternoon into Ricky's lair. Unfortunately, two details escaped his planning. One, the fact that his excitement over the prospects of his pending experiment made him forget to lock his door. The other was the stormy day which always made his mother decide to vacume the rugs. The canisters absence led to the logical conclusion that only Ricky would know its' whereabouts, which in turn led her to the sound of the vacume coming from his room. Although some really strange yelps and frantic scraching sounds could also be heard at the base of the door, as her hand twisted the knob and it swang open. Like the proverbial bat out of hell Pudge went by her at a speed normally only produced by a champion Greyhound, and there in all his naked glory lay Ricky, his bloated penis lathered up with her Noxema face cream making its initial insertion into the hole in the chrome vacume cleaner tube, the strong suction eliciting a wail that even Gladys Goldfarb could probably hear three houses down the street. This eclipsed the ball licking attempts by better than a mile in Madeline's estimation, although right at this instant she was more inclined to call a paramedic. Discretion being the better part of valor prevailed and her unseen hasty retreat was only eclipsed by the one Pudge had made before her. As a result, several things changed that afternoon. His mother developed a nervous tick that pretty well manifested itself whenever Ricky went to his room. Ricky decided the suction of the vacume was WAY too strong for the 'tinglies' and he just didn't like it. Pudge wasn't exactly thrilled with it either! In fact, after that sequence of events, Pudge not only walked funny and mostly had his tail tucked under his balls, but was more than a little gun shy, especially when the roar of the vacume started! The pair were not seen together inside the house once after that day! There were some other changes taking place of great magnitude as well. Ricky felt the electric excitement the minute he entered the hallowed halls of Solomon Schechter Jewish Middle School with his 7th grade pals to begin the new school term. Now Ricky was popular amongst his peers. Mostly it was his bravado manifesting itself at the most unusual times. It wasn't that he was gullible at all either. He was just far more apt to fulfill the statement of 'fools rush in where angels fear to tread'. For the last three years Ricky had been studiously peforming an annual ritual on the first and last day of the school year. It was what he had called the 'measure of the man' day, and of course today was THE day! Ricky had cooked up this plan on day one of their fifth grade year, and like lemings headed for the beach, his friends had followed his lead and enthusiastically signed on "for the duration" as he put it. Now, with his fiber board journal and his trusty 'Butterfly Brand' (60 inch, 150 centimeter) Superior Tailoring Rule' and brass caliper safely secreted away in the bottom of his gym bag, the day couldn't have been brighter! All boys are curious to some extent of course. Especially when it comes to how they stack up, or in this case 'stick out' where their penis was concerned. The extra added ingredient this year however was the blossoming of youth that he knew surely was emerging on the majority of his friends. Like a rabid actuarial, Ricky had expanded the statistical categories that would be employed this year. Likely it had to do with his rapidly developing, and over zealous attraction to the youthful groins of his friends. After all, what a difference nine school months can make in eleven and twelve year old boys growth, and last May, at the end of their first year in middle school, the evidence of that was about to be shouted out loud and clear. "Hey guys, Ricky's showing some pubies", Jacob Cohen screamed! Now that was a major watershed announcement, and being the first to do so was not lost on the young Rickster. In fact he had lost count of the number of times over the summer his buddies had asked him for a progress report on the quantity of his "bush garden" as his friend Eli would say. Try as he might, he was more than just a little bit frustrated that he couldn't give the exact and definitive answer to that most important of questions. So, being the inquisitive boy he was, just the day prior to joining his friends for their 7th grade ritual, his brain went into hyper drive as his solution came to fruition. As genius is to insanity, then inquisitive must ride the fence right along side of stupidity. Get yourself just a half bubble off plum and the result can be alarming! Ricky was always one for seizing the moment and no clearer example of that was that afternoon he laid down naked on his bed and zeroed in on his pubes to tally his wispies. Try as he might as he combed and calcuated the total, as spartan as they were, he just couldn't get the same number twice. That is until he ended up losing them all, seeing as the only way to know the EXACT number was to just go ahead and pull them out one at a time. Kind of like in a 'he loves me, loves me not' sort of way! It wasn't until he reached fifty seven and finally looked down and realized the pate of his pubis was balder than a babies butt that he realized he might have done himself a disservice. Never-the-less, he was spot on with the answer, regardless of the madness of his method. 'Nope' he thought, he would just slip them all into a zip-lock bag and produce his profusion as proof positive tomorrow, he decided. As had always been his habit, and without hesistation, the announcements of his discoveries were destined to be shared and relished by his adoring buds. The fact that he chose their thirty minute lunch hour to front and center his findings could well have been better thought out however. Having set the stage for his short hairs revelations, he plainly should have known better than to surreptitiously produce his baggie to the riveted eyes of his compadres. Since he had failed to reveal the nature of their acquisition in his stage setting, it would have been far better to have filled in that little tid bit of data beforehand. So it was, that the very instant he unexpectantly dangled his collection high above their food trays, the twin jet streams of Strawberry Quick exited Noah Birnbaum's nose to complete their four foot journey to the back of Mrs Levy, their fifth period Science teacher's neck. Who, if truth be known, was clandestinely eavesdropping until her unexpected anointment. No, Ricky learned a valuable lesson about public and private revelations right then and there! Ricky had already enthusiastically subscribed to the notion he was gay. It happend quite naturally actually. Somewhere between the time of that intial boot up of his computer and when he shut it off nine hours later, following his eighth episode of the 'tinglies'. All of which were repeated attempts to secure his first ever 'whitewater wristing'. Naturally, given a more comfortable environment to pursue his endeavors, than dangling from a street sign like a spastic grand daddy longlegs, he also entered the true world of fantasizing. Now he could relax and let his mind wander through the mental display of the various soft and erect images and callipygian attributes of his male friends. The fact that they were male was as natural as eating and sleeping for Ricky. It was also the venue where his horny little mind fashioned the decorum and depth of the imminent 'measure of the man' ceremony. As aforementioned, Ricky had a pretty finite list now for his statistical log. Who cares if it meant he would just have to be doing a bit more work measuring and recording, right along side copping quite a few good feels in the process. It sure didn't hurt that their last period gym class was taught by Sophie Dayan, a hulk of a woman and stellar athelete who had just come from Israel to fill the vacancy left by Ruben Feingold. Even an idiot knew women were not allowed in the boys lockeroom, especially during the mandatory shower time! Talk about a banner year for pubertal hormones to have their opportunity to scandalously run amok. As the bell rang ending their sixth period literature class, you would have thought there was a Chinese fire drill going on as Ricky and his pals bolted for the gym from their various class rooms. Now it was just thirty minutes of anticipation while breaking a sweat on the basketball court, and then a seven second shower, leaving tons of time to caress, collect and quantify his raw (as in the nude) data. Twenty three totally naked, squeaky clean seventh grade lads all lined up at the entrance to one of the cubicles adjacent to the showers, while Ricky sat on his 'throne' with tape, ledger and caliper in hand is a sight to make anyone go weak in the knees. If there was a nervous Nellie in the bunch, you wouldn't have spotted him as they patiently anticipated their turns. No, this was old territory for them by now wasn't it? All that is except for the blonde headed boy who had demurely taken his place at the end of the line. Anyone who knows anything knows the age old rule about the new kid being relegated to taking his place at the end of the line! And so it began. Individually, they took their turn stepping into Ricky's chambers, for their date with the data, after ceremoniously closing the door quietly behind them. I mean hey, what self-respecting Jewish lad wants to have his vitals broadcast for everyone else to hear. Well, excepting maybe for Ricky that is. No, this was part of their deal. Probably the only way Ricky's first hard sell about this ritual was able to pass muster. "Those are the ground rules," he had said and to a hobbledehoy they acceded. For those of you with a strong prurient interest the regimen heretofore was as follows. Each boy had his own page in the ledger with his name, todays date and more importantly his birthdate. Essential for a bar graph Ricky had concluded. Then individual measurement was taken of their penis soft. Length, width and circumference, followed by the same with them erect, which of course was Ricky's favorite part! Year two he had added the caliper to get a handle on the size of their nuts, which allowed him to 'handle' them too of course! This only became doable since middle school, because in fifth grade the showers were so cold that there wasn't much evidence that any of them even had any balls after their shrieking introduction to them. Yes and No notations were made under the columns titled 'Hairs' and 'shooting yet', which was fun to explain that first year for sure. Then the comparison with the previous dates were shown to each in his turn before exiting to rejoin the secular world once again. To a boy so far they seemed to be pleased as punch with their progress. Of course, what none of them knew was that following each individual visit, Ricky had placed a quick notation in code at the bottom of the page, the results of his private survey! The one he was collecting fodder for, for future episodes of 'playing with yoosef' that is. See, Ricky had this thing about low hangers, and just as importantly whether they were totally devoid of any hairs, and equally of note, which one of those suckers hung lower than the other. 'Nothing hangs looser than a boys balls following a nice hot shower', he thought to himself. 'Brilliant my boy, just briliant! 'Makes it so simple to catch which side their low hanger was on'. So, for example, if the nuts on Anshel Rabinowitz hung lower than the end of his circumsized prick, and the right one dipped a bit lower on the horizon than the left, and not a trace of fuzz could be detected from about six inches away, Anshel got an "HSR" (for Hangars, Smooth and Right) on the bottom of his page. Along with one to three stars, which Ricky also assigned for aesthetic purposes and more importantly whether he might be approachable for some one-on-one fun in the future, since THAT was what this whole business was really all about! Nope, Ricky wasn't just inquisitive. Ricky was on a quest! All things were going according to Hoyle, while Ricky sat there boned to the max, a single marmoreal tear hanging precariously from the tip of his swolen pink gland. He measured and calipered and stretched those spongy toys as much as he could in the interest of science. He would squeeze those boners til they turned purple in order to help his pal to achieve the ultimate max for size. After all, what's a buddy for, right? He borderline perved to the point that boy musk was starting to make him a bit giddy in fact. If last year was a treat, then this was a friggin smorgasboard! If it got any better than this, he just knew he would spontaneously ignite. Twenty two down (or up and down depending on your perspective) and some new kid to go, and then he could lock that door, pat his pecker twice to finish himself off and head for the hacienda. After all, he had enough material now to last a lifetime! Each of us has our defining moments in life. Unbeknown to Ricky, life as he had lived it for the last twelve years, ten months and twenty seven days was about to thrust upon him the singularly most defining event that would ever pass his way. Just as he was looking down astonished to see that moisture which had accumulated for the first time at the eyeslit of his penis, the beam of light which had so splendidly illuminated it was blocked by the silent entry of the final boy, boy number twenty three! To say this interrupted Ricky's concentration would be putting it mildly. In fact, it startled him to the point that his journal, caliber and pen spilled out from between his clenched thighs and landed at his feet. Now, Ricky was not known for ever being at a loss for words. But owing to the fact that he was trying to retrieve his droppings and maintain some measure of decorum, while at the same time his eyes were making their first furtive sorties from the bare ankles of the newbie upwards towards his groin, his voice took a flier. It was just about the time that his eyes honed in on the 'goods' being presented that a voice said "Hi, I'm Paul Winkler", that Ricky's spit turned to cotton! The fact that Robin was ALREADY sporting a woodie that even a porn star would envy was not lost on the watering eyes of Ricky either! But, Lord a Mighty, where was the head? Was Ricky rattled? You bet your red bandana and ten gallon hat there cowboy! It must have been a full 15 seconds before his eyes slipped back in their sockets and his head raised to meet the grinning 'Ultrabrite' smile of one Paul Winkler, whose outstretched hand didn't seem to eclipse his cock none too much. If this was a vision, then the Lady of Fatima that his mother was always going on about didn't have anything on what was standing proudly in front of young Ricky. "What do you want me to do" Paul smiled, as Ricky tried to make his sweat drenched palm get a grip on the patiently waiting hand. Thank the lord for small favors as Ricky's ass hit the toilet seat at the same time his legs gave out. Somehow Paul sensed that Ricky was getting a whole load more than he had ever bargained for. Even if for the moment Ricky's voice had gone South, his senses were intact. Especially his eyesight and Winkler's tinkler had his fully undivided attention once again. "God, Oh God", somehow slipped out. No, Paul had most definitely arrived and went straight to the head of Rick's inquisitive list, and if he had anything to say about it, it would remain number One on the Hit Parade for about the next zillion years! If two eyes can work together, than surely they must posses the capability of focusing independantly too he thought, because as one eye tried to focus on the walnut sized nads hanging in their smooth sack a good four inches below the missle that was swaying in front of his other eye like a tree limb in a gentle breeze, the end of Ricky's nose got in the way and the focus and the rationale along with it was shot all to hell. Now sometimes you don't know that you have courage until the defining moment that it's very much needed. Somewhere out of the bowels of his being Ricky summoned up enough of that commodity to begin a conversation, although it was somewhat a disjointed one for a minute or two. Of course the fact that his words were pretty much directed at the head of Paul's penis, instead of his face was not entirely lost on Paul either. Thus, the dialogue went something like this. "Umm, err, ah.....what happened to the head?," Ricky managed to squeak through his tightly constricted vocal chords. "I'm not circumsized," Paul answered as if he had been asked this question a couple hundred times before, which of course he had. "I still have my foreskin," he went on in a matter of fact way. Then Paul reached down and slowly began to slip back his foreskin, while Ricky's brain began to parphrase 'Twas The Night Before Christmas' with.....and what to my wondering eyes should appear but a flawless pink head an it's own tiny tear. "Jesus," Ricky said, which even for a nice Jewish boy was not all that uncommon. Now all Ricky could think at this moment was how this little secret managed to slipped by the Rabbi. For a decidedly Jewish environ, this was definitely a first! All he could think of was God only knows what the eighth day of Paul's life was like when normally the 'clipper man' was in play. This called for a shit load of questions, but not ones Ricky could find courage enough to start with today. "It's so big," he managed as his heartbeat finally stabilized. "I thought that was why we were here," Paul answered as he grinned like the Cheshire cat once again. "Oh Yeah for sure, Let me get my stuff," a newly emboldened Ricky replied. And so it began with great enthusiasm on Ricky's part and no less exhuberance on Paul's. A new page was quickly found, and the relief to a degree for Ricky that Paul was well past thirteen. It took a load of restraint for Ricky to not make his thoughts vocal as he studiously, and with lots of new found bravado, took loads of time to exact out his findings. Why not, given unrestricted access to the treasures that were amassed before him. Penis size erect, 7 and 3/8 th's inches, and 7 dead on with his foreskin back. Ricky had to add a new cateorgy for that one, but what the hell! Width, 2 and 1/8 th. Around, 5 and 5/8 th's, because he did that one twice, just to be sure of course. And his pendulous balls, well as much as Ricky tried, since that glorious penis did its best to take his eye out every time he tried to get close enough to read the caliper scale, was right about 2 and 1/2 inches in length. As for the hanger, well there was the other suprise in the cracker box jackpot of the day. The left one rested about a quarter of an inch lower than the right, which sent Ricky into an old fashioned swoon. Pubes, just two small ringlets of soft brown curls that barely touched in the middle and to Ricky's new found emotions, perfectly matched the color of Paul's eyes. "Do you shoot yet," Ricky asked, then immediately thought of the proverbial bear who takes a dump in the woods. I mean, he had to ask, since that colum was empty right about then. "Want to find out?," Paul grinned as his hand slipped over and encircled Ricky's own four and a half incher, causing him to spasm like a fish out of water, as Paul established a nice gentle rhythm. No words were needed once that had begun. Ricky slipped his youthful fingers around the shaft of Paul's penis and began the dance of the centuries on the most magnificent thing he had ever seen. Suddenly, without warning Ricky's body lit up like a Christmas tree in Rockefeller Center and a solid shot of clear liquid left his body like the space shuttle 'Discovery' headed for orbit, with his body right behind it! Two massive contractions later a small dribble seeped out and over Paul's fingers, much to his delight. Right on cue his own cargo jettisoned with voluminous results all up and down Ricky's still enraptured body! It was probably the better part of five minutes before either let go and the enormity of the event finally sank in. "Awesome," Paul exclaimed as he reached for some toilet paper. "Wait, that's my first time," Ricky exclaimed, grabbing Paul's hand to examine the residue, collecting it lovingly from his fingers. "Cool," Paul replied, and before Ricky could flush he grabbed the damp wad and slowly smiled at him. "Can I keep it to remember us by?", he asked. Ricky didn't answer but the glow on his face sure did. "I think we should hit the showers one more time, don't you," Paul said. "I kinda really slimed ya." "U huh," Ricky smiled as he spread the anointing around over his belly. "Where are your pubes," Paul asked, as they strolled into the empty shower room and turned on the spray. "Long story," Ricky laughed as he regrettably watched Paul's sperm wash away. "Why don't I come over to your house now and you can tell me, I got time," Paul grinned once again. "Besides, you still have three measurements you need and you can take all the time you need for them too," he laughed. Ricky's gulp that followed was involuntary as was the swelling once again in his groin. "What are we waiting for," he beemed as they exited arm and arm. "Besides," Ricky said. "Who needs Pudge around anymore" "Who's Pudge?" Paul asked. "Oh, Ricky smiled. "Just an old friend!" lmtdedition(at)hotmail.com