Date: Sat, 14 Jan 2017 17:05:40 -0500 From: The Paternal Watcher Subject: Junior High series, chapter 12 "Do I still owe you five dollars?" I asked once I caught my breath. "Maaaaaybe . . . let's brush our teeth," Harold replied. We went into the bathroom, still naked, still hard, and tried to aim our penises at the bowl before getting the taste out of our mouths. I was beginning to see how useful urinals are. By the time we got back to his room, we were both pretty limp, and Harold pulled on some shorts, signaling that the fun part of the day was over with. Well, okay, there are other fun things we do together, but this one kind of had my full attention at the moment, whether we were playing on the computer or running around in the park. It's not like I was actually hard the whole time or anything like that; I just couldn't stop thinking about how good orgasms feel and nice it was to have someone to orgasm with. If there was a part of my brain that was thinking the word "gay," it was completely overwhelmed by the thoughts of Harold and his cock. And those bouncy balls. His butt was interesting too, but mostly because you just don't see a lot of butts, especially your own. I liked that his armpits didn't have hair, and didn't even realize that those smooth little nipples of his would probably sprout some at a future date. All I knew for sure is that I shouldn't let him know that I was thinking about sex constantly, because that would make me a pervert for real. I was still scared of being thought some kind of freak when we finally went to bed, so I decided to just let Harold take the lead, if that's what he wanted to do. That might have been a mistake, because we were both asleep before I even realized it, him in his bed, me on the floor at its foot. His bed was big enough for both of us -- as we already knew -- but sleeping together? Now THAT would be GAY! The next thing I knew, he was calling my name. My eyes flew open to see his head sticking over the foot of the bed, and then I realized my hand was in my shorts. For some reason that embarrassed me, and I pulled it out quickly enough to make it obvious. He laughed a little, but not in a mean way. "My mom's making us breakfast," he said. "She's going to drop you off and then take me to Hebrew school." Our latest adventure was over, and I found myself wanting even more. I was home before noon, and while my thoughts were still mostly lingering on sex (making me wonder if there was something wrong with me), I managed to negotiate dealing with family without being found out. There was no doubt I felt different. I felt like a man. I had unlocked the secrets of my penis, and even though it had been a long time before I was able to share that with my friend -- that campout hadn't been nearly as interesting as the time those older boys were playing truth or dare, and we hadn't been able to have a sleepover the next week, either -- I'd finally showed him what I could do in probably the manliest way possible, by doing it right in his mouth. That was awesome, but I tried not to think about that moment too much, or I'd get hard again. I tried to sit down and do some homework, but I just couldn't focus yet. The springtime breeze wafted inside, carrying with it birdsong and the sounds of kids playing. * * * As exciting as sex was -- if you could even call it sex, without intercourse, or without a girl -- and as much as we both seemed to enjoy it, weeks crawled by without us seeing each other outside of school. It was pretty maddening, and it definitely affected how I acted. There was the talking like a pervert around our friends at school, for one, and I started making up sex-crazed fantasies in my journal. Pretty much all of my friends got the treatment, sooner or later. I was terribly curious about what they each looked like naked. Then there was the time one weekend when I decided to sneak out of my house late at night, wearing only a zipper-down hoodie that I left open. After my parents were asleep, I slipped out the door in bare feet into the mostly warm, slightly damp air. It was just cool enough to harden my pink nipples. My dick didn't need the temperature to stimulate it. I walked quietly around the side of my house and mounted my banana-seat bike, my hard tool sticking straight into the air between my hairless thighs, which seemed whiter than ever under the soft glow of the street lights. I enjoyed taking the risk, but I didn't go far; only two or three houses away, then circling back. When I returned, I was so excited that I stopped the bicycle and put my feet on the asphalt in the middle of the street to stabilize it. One hand stayed on the handle bars, but the grabbed my pulsing cock and went to town. The prospect of a car rounding the corner sent me into a tizzy of stimulation, and I blasted out my load all over the seat, even though I'd meant to point it at the ground. I didn't really understand what an explosive fire hose this was between my legs, but I knew I needed more Harold. Or someone. I was going out of my mind. Even though I was acting more like I had sex on the brain, I didn't know how bad it was until I had another friend over one day after school. Mark was, like me, looking forward to the start of summer, which wasn't so long away; the warm weather outside made the school days drag on forever. He came over on the bus, and we went straight to my room after making the briefest of small talk with my mother. She'd trained me fairly early to change out of school clothes right away, so without so much as a by-your leave I started peeling off my shirt, shoes, and pants. I stopped talking to Mark mid-sentence when I realized we didn't even have gym together. "Sorry, Mom always wants me to change," I said. "It's okay," he replied. "Wear whatever you like, it's your room, and you closed the door." Honestly, I didn't have a single dirty thought until that moment. I pulled down my pants -- without even checking the pockets -- and laid them in a careful heap in the corner, where it would be impossible for anyone else to tell if they were clean enough to wear again or not. I could feel myself getting hard, and I could feel Mark's eyes on me as I tried to continue holding a conversation. My heart sped up as I pulled open my dresser drawer and pulled out a clean pair of underpants. Sitting down next to him on the bed, I held them up. "She wants me to change everything," I lied. Mark shrugged, maybe in understanding, maybe something else. I couldn't be sure which it was, but I didn't care enough to think about it. Acting as smoothly as if getting naked while hard into front of a friend was the most ordinary thing in the world, I slid down the pair I was wearing, exposing myself completely and not trying to hide anything. Mark looked, and didn't try to hide that he was looking. "Changing is such a pain," I said. "When I get home from school, all I really want to do is relax." With that, I laid back and stretched. I had never thought about Mark sexually, despite my recently-journaled fantasies. He wasn't in any of my classes, when I would cook up scenarios while I was bored; I shared lunch with him, which was one of the few times of day remaining that sex wasn't my top priority. What I was doing could have lead to shame and ridicule for life, but it didn't. Instead, Mark leaned over and put my dick all the way into his mouth. Not that I had a huge amount of experience, but WOW, it felt really good! I didn't think a mouth could feel better than Harold's had, but Mark's sure did, and he wasn't even going up and down or doing anything at all as far as I could tell by looking. By feeling, though, I was going to be finished really, really soon at the rate things were going. An older, more experienced me might have told him to stop for a minute so I didn't shoot so fast. 12-year-old me wanted to get off as quickly as possible, because isn't that the whole point? I didn't make a sound -- I am not sure I even breathed -- the entire time he was down on me. I looked at the ceiling, or at his lips stretched around the base of my cock, and then I just . . . shot. "S-sorry. . . " I gasped. Mark just grunted. At some point he'd taken his own dick out, and I was surprised that it was smaller than mine. I guess I figured all the boys my age would be about the same size. He was stroking it quick, and in just a few seconds it was spraying jizz all over my carpeting, which was a weird orange color that made all the evidence vanish when it was rubbed in. Maybe that's why my parents got it for me in the first place.