Date: Sun, 20 Feb 2011 05:19:01 -0800 (PST) From: The Paternal Watcher Subject: My Junior High 4 Penis! That's what I had been thinking every time I saw Harold in school -- penis penis penis penis penis penis penis! I still wasn't comfortable cursing, and thankfully my parents hadn't taught me any of those ridiculous euphemisms, so that was the word ringing in my mind. Of course we never spoke of it, even the one time that I went over to his house after school the following week, but seeing my friend naked had made an impression on me. I had a Boy Scout campout the next weekend, so I couldn't sleep over Harold's house. I knew that I couldn't come up with an excuse to avoid camping which would not also prevent me from seeing Harold, so I didn't bother trying. Our troop had massive canvas tents which were a bear to haul into the woods; they had two-by-four supports and long bolts to hold everything together. They slept four boys with their gear comfortably. With Harold's penis bouncing in my mind, I went through the motions of camping, learning skills like ax-handing and fire starting, but never cooking; the younger Scouts were always the ones who washed the dishes. We only had three tents this time: one for the two adult leaders who slept on cots, one for the older boys, and one for the younger. For larger trips we tented by patrol, putting a larger age range in the tents. At one point in the darkness I awoke, needing to pee. I'd been a bed wetter much longer than I ever wanted to admit, and it was only through careful mental discipline that adventures like camping and sleepovers were available to me. I couldn't imagine what would happen if I'd been caught with a wet sleeping bag in the morning -- the humiliation would have been unbearable! Despite the chill I pulled on some clothes (tucked into my bag for warmth, a trick I'd learned from the more experienced Scouts) and went out into the night. After relieving myself I wandered back, realizing that despite the silence in my own tent, it must be earlier than I imagined. There was a light shining through the door-flaps of the leaders' tent, which was placed on the other side of the fire from our own. Also, I heard urgent whispering as I passed the tent housing the older boys. I wondered what they were doing. These tents had no windows, so the curiosity I discovered in myself could only be satisfied by peering through the tiny slit between the flaps of canvas covering the entrance. I had not brought a flashlight out with me, and thus benefiting from my night vision I avoided stepping on any twigs as I approached. I stepped lightly up to the entrance and, taking care not to actually disturb the tent's fabric, I peered inside. The four boys within ranged in age from 14 to 16. Laughter erupted as I looked in, but at first I couldn't tell why as my eye was dazzled by their flashlights. Then I saw it: a white ass, wiggling about. It stopped shaking, the underpants were pulled up, and I saw Jeremy, my own patrol leader, blushing as he sat down. "Okay, my turn," he said. He looked to someone I couldn't see. "Matt, truth or dare?" A pause, and then: "Dare." "I dare you to draw a smiley face on the head of your dick with this marker while we watch," said Jeremy gleefully. It seemed he'd been cooking up that one for awhile now. "Man . . ." said Matt, but he did not protest. I'd never played truth or dare, but everyone knew that horrible consequences would arise if you tried to get out of it. He stood up and walked to the center of the tent as Jeremy backed up to make room. This was apparently their stage. Jeremy handed him a black marker. "Um . . . do we have anything else? I can't draw a smiley with this unless it's like a foot tall, and you only want it on the head, right?" There was some hooting and giggling and shushing, and a finer-point marker was finally produced. Matt rolled his eyes to the sky as if in prayer, then dropped his sweat pants and underwear at the same time, revealing a boner as large as I remembered my brother's had been. Would I have one that big someday? It seemed inconceivable. Pushing his penis downward to get it into the three flashlight beams which acted as spotlights, he drew two eyes near the rim of his swollen head, dotted a nose beneath, and then made a swooping smile along the contour of the tip, just above the opening. Suppressed giggles and cheers goaded him on. "Man, this is permanent marker! What if I can't wash it off? How can I get my dick sucked if it's got a goddamn smiley face on it?" Matt moaned. "Like you're ever gonna get head anyway," laughed Greg, the third boy. As Matt pulled up his pants and returned to his sleeping bag, they started arguing about their alleged sexual conquests. I was starting to get cold, so regretfully I returned to my own tent. On the way back, I realized that I was hard. It definitely wasn't the first time, but it was the first time I'd popped a boner while looking at someone's nakedness. This camping trip gave me even more to think about. I couldn't wait to see Harold again.