Date: Tue, 1 Mar 2011 06:12:28 -0800 (PST)
From: The Paternal Watcher <hvdude@yahoo.com>
Subject: My Junior High 7

Harold didn't want my five dollars.

Of the thoughts rolling around my mind in the car on my way home, that one
at least was a certainty.  I was sure that I could end it by just stealing
five from my mother's pocketbook and giving it to him, but neither of us
wanted me to do that.

What weighed on me wasn't the money -- it was the fear that I was broken.
Harold was able to ejaculate!  Did he have orgasms too?  I thought about
his face the night before -- I couldn't recall any signs that something
good was going on, but I didn't know what to look for.

Just like I didn't know how to masturbate.

You mean you don't know how to jerk off, I thought to myself.  No wonder
you can't do it -- you don't even know what you're supposed to call it!

Harold has some kind of big Hebrew school thing to go to, which found me in
my mother's car going home to take a shower and clean my room.  I'd already
asked about going back to his house again that night, and a clean room,
clean body, and completed homework were all on my agenda for the day.

Did Harold know something I didn't know?  His penis looked to be about the
same size, and he had around the same amount of hair, so what was it?
Maybe because his pointed up and mine stuck straight out he could do it and
I couldn't?  That didn't seem fair.  If only I could have watched what he
was doing!

I dragged myself out of the car with the enthusiasm of a death-row inmate
going to his final algebra test before getting the electric chair.
Dropping my bag and shucking my clothes on the floor (I had to clean my
room anyway), I grabbed my robe and headed into the bathroom.  My sisters
had already cleared out for the day, leaving a thick mass of dark, wet hair
in the drain.  As I cleared it out I wondered about their pubic hair.

I stepped into the shower and washed, paying more attention to my armpits
and crotch than usual.  I didn't stink yet -- so far as I knew -- but for
some reason I wanted to be sure.  My traitorous penis rose to attention at
my touch, aching for me to unlock its mysteries, but I still lacked the
key.  The ache intensified as I washed the dome of the head, where I
lingered as I examined my patch of hair.

Wet as they were, they clung to my skin and made it easy to remember what I
had looked like before they sprouted.  There still wasn't very much, but I
knew that they might grow so thick that they would all but completely hide
my little guy.  I wondered how dark and long they would become.

A knock on the door reminded me that my room awaited.  Normally my mother
didn't pound on the bathroom door, but I knew she was on her way out and
wanted to get some reminders in.  My dysfunctional body would have to wait.

Nothing is quite so powerful a motivator as sexual curiosity.  Never had my
room been so ordered, never my homework so complete, as they were when I
asked my father for a ride to Howard's house after dinner that night.  I
desperately wanted to solve the riddle of what Harold knew and I did not,
but it never occurred to me that I could simply ask.  This was burden to
carry until I found release from it, and that release was going to happen
at Harold's house.

He was still in nice clothes from Temple, and when I got there he went into
the bathroom to change.  I found that funny, but his mother was home, so it
probably wasn't all that odd.  When he returned we ran around in the park
some, then came back to work on some D&D characters together.  As I lay
upon the floor with books and papers before me, I found myself getting a
boner which threatened to punch a hole in the floorboards. I wished
silently for night to come faster, and shifted to take the weight off my
suffering penis.

After much gaming, many snacks, and a viewing of Conan the Barbarian, we
finally went to his room for the night.  His mother was again in the house,
sleeping alone in her room, but Harold's older brother was at a friend's
house.  His father, if he even lived there, wasn't there again that night.
The house was quiet and warm.

"Do you want to play truth or dare?" he asked me.

My heart skipped a beat from excitement, fear, and relief.  "Sure," I said,
trying to show none of those emotions.

"We should lie down on my bed," he said.  We both sat on the mattress, and
he turned off the only light.

"Truth or dare?" he asked me.

"Dare," I said, with not even a pretense of being interested in his truth.

"I dare you to strip down to your underpants for ten minutes," he said.

I pulled off my shirt, slid down my shorts, and said, "Okay.  Truth or
dare?"

"Dare," came his hushed reply.

"I dare you to do the same."

I was more than willing to let him set the tone in this way, and in the
next round we each removed our underpants, and lay naked next to each other
on top of the sheets.  My body was on fire as I wondered what the next dare
would bring.

"I dare you to jerk me off for 30 seconds," he said.

". . . okay," I said, after I found my voice.  I reached over tentatively,
finding warm skin beneath my fingers.  With his hand, he guided mine from
his hip to the object of my desire.

I didn't fully understand until I wrapped my fingers round it, but it was
desire that coursed through me.  I squeezed the hot thing gently, rubbing
it over with my fingers, imagining what it would be like to have a hand
upon mine, and what I would want that hand to do.  I caressed the skin,
squeezed it again, and suddenly my time was done.  I hoped I had done it
right.

"Dareback," I said, making up the word on the spot.  We both knew what it
meant, and I trembled in anticipation.

As his fingers curled around me I expected some magic, like fireworks
exploding or Tinkerbell hitting me over the head with her wand, but it just
felt . . .  nice.  No one that I could remember had ever touched me that
way, and it probably would have felt nice if he'd gently caressed my
stomach, or my forehead, or my elbow.  It was very, very nice.

He used a firmer touch than I, and instead of allowing the skin to pass
through his fingers he tugged it gently along, so that the skin was rubbing
the tissue underneath.  It was a strange feeling, but definitely not
unpleasant.

"Lie on top of me," he said as he pulled his hand away.  Remembering the
pretense, he added, "I dare you."

I did, face down, our boners rubbing one against the other and our breath
mingling closely.  We rolled over and then he was upon me.

"I have another dare," he said, "but it's okay if you don't want to.  Just
say no."

"What is it?" I asked as he rolled off of me and returned to his position
by my side.

A pause, and then, "Kiss me."

I considered.  I ached for his touch, yearned for his secrets.  I knew that
this was, in its most basic form, sex.  And that kissing and love could
happen with sex.

"No," I said.  It was just too scary.

Harold was not deterred.  "Okay, but my next one isn't a dare, it's a bet.
You still owe me five dollars," he reminded me.

"What's the bet?" I asked, turning my head to hear his soft voice.

"I bet you five dollars to suck my dick."

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