Boy Code, Part II – Family Secrets

 

Author's Note: This story is a work of complete fiction. It contains graphic depictions of sexual encounters between adult men, adult men and teenage boys, and between teenage boys. Do not read this story if it is illegal in your jurisdiction to do so or if you have any moral objections to the content. The author does not advocate, nor condone in any way, sexual activity with, or the sexual exploitation of, minors in real life. This is fiction, and is a protected form of expression. Nothing said in this story should be taken to indicate any form of support for sexual conduct with minors nor for child pornography. Anything sexual involving minors should be constrained solely to the world of literary fiction, where the characters exist only in the minds of the author and readers, never acted upon or condoned in real life.

As well, this story is set in a fictional environment in which sexually transmitted diseases do not exist. As always, in real life, please practice safe sex with consenting, adult, partners. This story is purely a work of fiction, and any similarity between real people, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and unintentional.

Finally, this series explores themes of love, friendship, belonging, and sexual development. While nudity and mild sexual elements will be present in every chapter, not every installment will have graphic sexual scenes. If this is not what you are looking for, you may wish to find a different story.

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When I was young, my mother had a very severe addiction to prescription pain killers. It all started after she had knee-replacement surgery when I was in kindergarten. The doctors prescribed her some narcotic pain killers so she could sleep at night. She started with the prescribed "one pill an hour before bed." Then, after a few weeks of that, one turned in to two. Then, two at bedtime became two in the morning, two at night. Pretty soon, she was taking them so often that a month's prescription would only last her a week.

She went through all sorts of schemes and lies to get more pills. She "switched" doctors frequently, usually telling the new doctor that she had stopped seeing the previous one. All the while, of course, the previous doctor was still on speed dial. She conned friends and family members in to fake ailments so they could get a prescription, which she would then take.

Finally, it ended with a stolen prescription pad, forged prescriptions, a 30-day jail sentence, and court-mandated rehab. She turned her life around, but it was rough.

I tell you all of this to highlight a simple fact – no one outside our family knew about this. My and my siblings' friends all knew about the knee surgery. But, when it came time for jail and rehab, they were told that my mother had gone out west to take care of her sick father for a while. The first friend I ever told the truth about my mother was Carter.

You see, families all have secrets. My family had my mother's addiction to pain killers. Your family may have had closet alcoholism. The neighbors may be abusing their children. The family down the street could secretly be embezzling from the company they work for. The point is, we don't know. Secrets abound in every family and part of the boy code, one of the most sacred parts of the boy code, is that you never reveal your friends' family secrets.

To reveal the family secrets of a friend is to betray that friend. They have let you in on the secrets of their family because they trust you. Perhaps they needed someone to confide in and you are the only one they feel comfortable trusting with private information. Unless their lives are in danger, you do not share what you have learned with outsiders. If you do, you may as well throw the friendship away.

Like I said, my family had my mother's addiction. Carter's family, on the other hand, had a much, much different secret.

Boy Code Rule: Family Secrets Stay Secret

"Come on, Jonah, fight back" Carter said, flipping me on to my back and pressing his spandex-clad body in to mine. I could feel the weight of him against me, the heat of his body, and the firm pressure of his cock against mine. Of course, I was rock hard with him on top of me. Much to my delight, so was Carter.

Just as I was really getting in to the feeling of Carter's boyhood erection rubbing up against mine, Coach Vargas blew his whistle.

"Alright, boys," he yelled as we all stopped our sparring. "Take a seat."

Quickly, the 24 assembled boys of the Salem High School junior varsity wrestling team sat in place on the mat. Each of us was clad in our usual green and black spandex singlets, and a good third of us had very obvious and very hard boners.

"Erections in wrestling are normal," Coach had told us the day of our first official practice. He had made a big speech about how physical exertion causes increased blood flow and that increased blood flow, whether we like it or not, can cause very hard erections. He informed us that every single wrestler gets hard from time to time and that we should never be embarrassed by it, feel the need to hide it, or ever comment on another boy's boner. It happens and we should all just ignore it because it is really no big deal. So far, all the boys seemed to be abiding by those rules. There were always boners on display to look at (very discreetly, of course), and no one dared make fun of another boy for getting hard.

For me, this was heaven. Well, mostly heaven. Carter and I had both made the team and in the same weight class. On the down side, though, Mark Campbell had made the team, too. He was the only heavyweight on the team. I guess we needed someone in that weight division so that our school didn't forfeit every heavyweight match. Mark Campbell, though? Did it really have to be him?

"You've all done really well the past few weeks," Coach said as we quieted down. "I've seen a lot of improvement in each of you and I am proud of the work you've put in."

The boys all smiled and seemed very proud of themselves. Complementing high school boys will almost assuredly make their little egos swell.

"But..." he continued.

Ah, the dreaded "but." The bane of every kid's day. There's always a compliment followed by a criticism.

"...I have noticed that, despite what I told you at the beginning of our practices, not all of you are practicing good personal hygiene. When you are wrestling – getting up close and personal with all the other boys, rolling around on a rubber mat, and wearing very little clothing – hygiene becomes very important. It's how you avoid things like ringworm. Plus, some of you are just starting to stink!"

The boys all laughed, and many pointed fingers at the ones they considered to be the biggest stink offenders.

"So," Coach continued, his hands raised as a signal for quiet, "starting Monday, showers after practice will no longer be optional. Every one of you will be required to shower, with soap and shampoo, before and after every practice and meet. If you are going to sweat on each other and touch each other, it would be good manners not to smell bad. I expect my boys to have good hygiene!"

There was an audible grumble of discontentment from the assembled boys. Most of us had gotten used to getting naked in the locker rooms in order to put on our singlets. But, that was still done quickly and with much effort to hide our penises from the group. To shower meant that, due to the way the showers in our locker room were built, you would be exposed to everyone in the room.

In the showers, there were four large metal pillars running from floor to ceiling, positioned like the four corners of a square. Each of these pillars had six showerheads attached, radiating out like spokes from a wheel. With 24 boys on the wrestling team, that meant one shower a piece. It also meant that our whole bodies would be visible to the entire room at all times and we would, very likely, be bumping up against one another in the nude.

This made me more than a bit nervous. An erection during practice was one thing. After all, Coach had made a very clear point of how normal that was. I could effectively use that lecture as a shield, deflecting any criticism about my near constant boners at practice. In the showers, however, everyone would see my hard-on and I wouldn't have the "it's all normal" shield.

"Monday, please bring to practice a towel, a bar of soap, a bottle of shampoo, and deodorant. These are not optional items, gentlemen! Now, go get changed and head home. Leave your singlets in the laundry basket for me to wash."

The locker room was unusually noisy after practice. Of course, with fourteen- and fifteen-year-old boys, quiet was not the standard mode of operation. However, it was noisy even by adolescent male standards. The room was abuzz with conversation about the new showering rule. Some liked it, pointing out that they were tired of wrestling with boys who smelled like wet dog. Others were mad, saying it was "gay" to shower with other boys. Mark Campbell was the loudest and most outspoken of that group.

Only a few, like Carter, seemed to take it all in stride.

As we left the school a few minutes later, I began my normal walk home. I lived less than a mile from school and walked to and from every day. A quick walk through a community park, down a couple quiet neighborhood streets, and I was home. Normally, I made this walk alone. But, since becoming somewhat friends with me after his locker room confrontation with Mark Campbell, Carter had started walking with me. We'd customarily say goodbye at the far edge the park, with me going left toward my neighborhood while he went right toward his. Today was different.

"Wanna come over?" Carter asked as we hit the edge of the park and our usual parting spot. "You can spend the night, if you want. I mean, if you want to and if your mom and dad don't care."

It was Friday night, which meant no school or wrestling practice tomorrow.

"Sure, that'd be cool," I said, trying to contain my excitement. "You sure your parents won't mind?"

"It's just Dad," Carter corrected. "Mom and Dad got a divorce a couple years ago. Me and my brothers live with Dad. Mom moved to Texas to be closer to her parents. And yeah, Dad won't care. He's always asking me and my brothers to bring friends home."

"Okay, yeah! That'd be cool."

"Awesome!" Carter added enthusiastically.

"Wanna go with me to ask my parents and get my clothes and stuff?"

"Sure. You don't need a lot of clothes though. Just bring some games or movies or stuff!"

I didn't know what he meant by not needing a lot of clothes, but I went with it. It was a chance to spend the night with my new friend and longtime crush. I wasn't going to turn that down.

Back at my house a few minutes later, I quickly got permission from Dad. He was much more agreeable to last-minute plans than Mom was. She, after her rehab, became much more structured and plan-oriented. Getting her to agree to a change in plans was like trying to nail Jell-O to a tree. Dad, on the other hand, was happy to allow last-minute changes if it meant that I was getting out of the house and socializing for a change.

Upstairs in my room, I grabbed my duffel bag and began rifling through my drawers. Carter sat on my bed and looked through my movie collection.

"You like horror?!" he asked excitedly, obviously noticing my collection of Nightmare on Elm Street, Halloween, Hellraiser, and Friday the 13^th movies.

"Hell yes!" I said, tossing a couple pair of underwear and some shorts in to the bag. "Pinhead is the greatest horror bad guy of all time!"

"Okay, you have to bring these!" Carter replied, tossing Hellraiser 1, 2, and 3 in to my bag. He also added Friday the 13^th 1 and 2 "just in case."

He then picked up my underwear and shorts and threw them back to me.

"I told ya, you don't need to bring clothes," he said, blushing a bit.

"Why not?" I asked, peeling a pair of white briefs off of my face.

"Well," Carter began, hesitating, "promise you won't freak out? And promise you won't tell anyone?"

"I promise."

"Well...umm...me and my brothers and my dad...well, we kinda don't wear clothes at home. It's a rule. Guys only, no clothes."

"Wait, what?!" I said, a bit louder than expected.

"So, yeah...when Mom and Dad met, Dad was a nudist. He never wore clothes at home, ever. But, when they got married, Mom made him stop doing that. Then, when they got divorced a couple years ago and Dad got custody of me and my brothers, Dad made the rule that we had to be naked at home. Guys are allowed to come over, but they have to be naked, too."

"So, I'll have to be naked all night?" I asked, a strange mixture of apprehension and confusion flooding my system.

Also, completely unbidden, my cock decided to weigh in on the matter. It approved.

"Yeah," Carter said, looking down at the floor. "I'm sorry, I should have told you that before I invited you over. It's just, I've never had a friend spend the night, and both of my brothers do all the time. I kinda wanted someone over, too."

"I don't know," I said, my nerves getting the best of me. "I've never done that before. I always wear clothes at home."

"It's no big deal," Carter said, sounding a bit hurt but still trying to get me on his side. "It's just guys. Like, we all have the same equipment, and you've seen my dick in the locker room lots of times, and I've seen yours lots of times."

When I didn't respond, Carter seemed to think that was the end of it.

"If you don't wanna come, I understand," he finally said, standing up from my bed. "But, please, don't tell anyone. People wouldn't understand and I don't want people like Mark Campbell to know."

"No, I do wanna come over," I answered quickly, wanting him to understand that I didn't judge him or his family. "I was just surprised and kinda nervous. And I promise, I won't tell anyone."

"You do want to? You sure? I know you're not as comfortable being naked as I am. I won't be mad if you change your mind."

"I'm not changing my mind. I definitely wanna come over. I'm a little nervous, but it sounds kinda fun."

As if to emphasize my point, I tossed my underwear back in my dresser, stuffed a pillow in my duffel bag, and zipped it closed. That seemed to cheer Carter up. He just looked at me and smiled, obviously relieved that I didn't consider him or his family to be freaks.

This was another part of the boy code, which at the time I was just beginning to understand. Society teaches men and boys that we are to be strong, fearless, and stoic. We aren't allowed to emotionally express ourselves the way girls are. When two kids fall off their bikes and skin their knee, the girl is coddled and has her tears wiped away to placating statements like "there, there," and "it'll be alright, princess." The boy, on the other hand, is told to "walk it off" and "take it like a man." It isn't manly to show vulnerability.

Yet, here Carter was, exposing me to his vulnerability by telling me such a deeply-held secret about his family. I could see it in his eyes. He was, until I agreed to come, on the precipice. I could either accept his offer and, thus, his family; or, I could say no and reject both him and his way of life. It was a deeply vulnerable moment for him.

By accepting his offer, I had validated the choices his family had made. I had accepted him, his father, his brothers, and their lifestyle.

In the boy code, it really comes down to this: Don't show vulnerability unless you have to, and when another boy shows you his vulnerability, do not disrespect him by taking advantage of it. Carter was vulnerable and, as all boys should, I respected the fact that he was letting his guard down around me. He was trusting me and I was not going to damage that trust. Though I was nervous about spending the night naked with Carter and his family, I had to put my nerves aside for the sake of our friendship and out of respect for the vulnerability he showed. Plus, I'd get to see him (and other boys) naked all night. For a closeted gay boy, that was a definitive plus. I only hoped I could contain the raging boner I knew I would have for the next 18 hours.

"I should shower before we go, though," I said, raising my arm and giving myself a sniff. "I probably stink after practice."

"We can shower at my house. My dad's a contractor, and he built this really cool shower in the bathroom in the basement. It can fit like four people in it! It has, like, all these shower heads that hit you from every direction! We can shower together!"

That was more excitement than I had ever seen for a shower, but I had to admit, it did sound kinda cool. Since I was already going to be naked with the whole of the Whitmore family, I may as well be okay with showering with Carter.

Following the requisite leaving of Carter's dad's name and their home phone number, Carter and I were out the door. It was my first sleepover with Carter and, nude or not, I didn't want to waste a minute of time.

After a brief detour to play on the kid's playground equipment in the park and to piss side-by-side against a bush (during which we openly stared at each other's cocks), we arrived at Carter's house. His house was larger than mine and, even from the driveway, I could tell it was much more active inside as well. I could hear music playing inside, see light on in almost every window, and tell that this was not a house where quiet reigned supreme.

Pushing open the front door, Carter called out to his dad.

"Dad, I'm home...and Jonah came home with me. He's gonna spend the night!"

While that sudden "I'm home and brought a guest you didn't know about" announcement was kind of par for the course for boys our age, the quick chain of events which followed, weren't.

First, where most people would have a coat rack or even a potted plant next to the front door, the Whitmores had a laundry hamper. Without even a moment's hesitation, Carter began to strip. He slipped his t-shirt off over his head, slipped his hands in to the waistband of his basketball shorts, and in one swift move, dropped both his shorts and his white briefs to the floor. He stepped out of them and picked them up, depositing all of his clothes in to the hamper. In less than thirty seconds after arriving home, Carter was fully naked.

Second, Carter's father appeared from the other room carrying a hand towel. He had obviously been cooking and, just as I saw him, the smell of something good on the stove hit me. Like Carter, Mr. Whitmore was fully nude. I could see, instantly, where Carter got his physique and his looks. Both the elder and junior Whitmore were slim, well-toned, and packing a tremendous piece of equipment between their legs (Mr. Whitmore's had to be, to my teenage estimation, about seven inches when flaccid). They both sported the same short-trimmed chocolate brown hair and hazel eyes. But, where Carter was smooth from the waist up (save a small trail on his belly), Mr. Whitmore had a chest and stomach coated in a fine dusting of dark, manly hair.

I couldn't help myself. As he walked down the hall, I stared at the heavy cock he was swinging between his legs. It bounced with each step. To this day, that is one of my favorite things to see on a man – a heavy, limp, swinging cock.

"Ah, the infamous Jonah!" Mr. Whitmore said, walking up embracing me in an unexpected side-hug. "It's nice to meet you in person, young man. I've heard Carter talk about you a lot!"

As he hugged me, I was very careful with my hands. I nearly had my hand pressed against his cock since the hug was unexpected, but managed at the last minute to move and only grazed his thigh.

"Dad, stop!" Carter said, sounding for a moment a few years younger than his actual age. It was clear that, like all parents, Mr. Whitmore was embarrassing his son.

"Oh, sorry," Mr. Whitmore said as he released me and extended his hand, "anyway, I'm glad you could be here. Sean Whitmore."

"Nice to meet you, sir," I said, shaking his hand like my father had taught me.

"No need for the `sir' or `Mr. Whitmore.' If you're gonna be in our house and be naked with us, there's no need to be formal. Just call me Sean, please."

"Okay. Thank you for letting me stay the night, Sean."

"My pleasure! I've been hoping that Carter would bring a friend over! Dinner will be ready in just a bit, boys. Travis and Mikey each have a friend over as well, so the more the merrier!"

With that, Sean smiled and headed back toward the kitchen. I couldn't help but stare at Sean's ass as he walked away. It was obvious he got a good work out as a contractor.

"You can put your clothes in there with ours," Carter said, pointing at the hamper and shaking me back to reality. "Dad will wash everyone's clothes tonight so they are clean for when you go home tomorrow."

It was now or never. Carter was nude. Sean had just introduced himself to me in the nude. Supposedly, Carter's older brother, Travis, and younger brother, Mikey, were somewhere in the house nude with their friends. There were seven guys in this house and I was the only one clothed.

Steeling my nerves, and hoping I wouldn't spend the rest of the night with a massive and obvious hard-on, I joined the party and stripped out of my clothes. I tossed my t-shirt, shorts, and briefs on top of the dirty clothes pile. Sure enough, my cock rose to the occasion and pointed straight at Carter. I could feel my body turning red.

Carter beamed, obviously excited to finally have a friend over to share this part of his life with. He looked down, very openly, at my hard-on and chuckled lightly.

"Feels good to let that out, doesn't it?" he said, smiling at me and giving a gentle tug on his own dick. "Don't worry about being hard. We all get hard all the time and don't hide it. You'll see all of us with boners sooner or later."

As an adult, I would have anticipated that. After all, as I've mentioned and all of you lovely male readers know, erections are commonplace. They happen when we are horny, when we are tired, when we are exercising, or just when we are breathing. Sometimes, there is no controlling or predicting it. By this point in my life, I have come to understand and appreciate the seeming randomness of boners. But, as an adolescent boy in my first nudist situation, I hadn't stopped to consider the fact that the Whitmore boys (and dad and friends) would all have erections sooner or later as well. That both made me feel more at ease and excited me.

"Come on," Carter said, gesturing me to follow him.

We made our way down the little entry hallway and through the kitchen, where Sean the naked chef was stirring something on the stove. Carter then led us down to the basement through a door just past the kitchen. As soon as we started to descend the stairs, I could tell that this is where the other four boys in the house had escaped to.

Sitting on a couch in front of a large-screen TV were two older boys, who looked to be about sixteen or seventeen. Both, like Carter and Sean, were fully nude. Both, like me, were also fully hard.

"Hey squirt," one of the boys said as we entered the room, "who's your friend?"

"This is Jonah," Carter said, sitting down on the armrest of the couch next to his brother. "Jonah, this is my brother Travis and his friend Zack."

"Hey, Jonah," Zack said, smiling and fingering his balls.

I was in gay-teenage-boy heaven at that moment and my head was beginning to swim. Travis and Zack were sitting with their legs spread and their bodies on full display. Both were very obviously hard and Zack, from what I could tell, was leaking a steady stream of pre-cum on to his belly. I could feel my own cock start to throb as I looked.

"We're gonna go take a shower before dinner," Carter said as he stood up from his seat on the armrest of the sofa.

"Cool," Travis added, nodding at his younger brother. "I think Mikey and Logan are in there right now, too. They are probably playing with each other more than showering, though."

Travis and Zack chuckled while Carter just responded with "yeah, probably."

The bathroom was just off the main area of the basement living room and was every bit as impressive as Carter had made it out to be. Black tiled walls, stainless steel sink and fixtures, and an enormous multi-person shower made the room look like it was straight out of a fancy hotel. As Travis had warned us, the shower was already running when we came in. I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw what was happening in it.

There were two boys, about twelve-years-old, standing under two heads of the shower. One, which was obviously Carter's brother – they both had creamy pale skin, dark hair, and a slim build – was slowly stroking his young dick while his friend, a slightly pudgy redhead, did the same. Both were very hard and enjoying their cocks. Neither, I noticed, seemed to care that Carter and I came in and joined them.

"Hey, buddy," Carter said as he stepped up to the shower head next to his younger brother. "Hey Logan. You boys having fun?"

"Yeah," Mikey said, his hand exploring his young penis with abandon. "Who's your friend?"

Even while he asked Carter who I was, Mikey's hand never left his dick. Nor, I noticed, did his eyes meet mine. Instead, the youngest Whitmore focused intently on my own exposed erection.

"This is Jonah," Carter said as he began to rinse off. He gestured for me to join him at the showerhead right next to his. It was like being in a gym and I began to see why Carter liked these showers so much. If his reason was the same as mine, and I sincerely hoped it was, the chance to see other guys soap up their beautiful bodies and hard cocks was too good to pass up.

"Nice dick, Jonah," Mikey said as if he was complimenting my t-shirt or shoes.

"Mikey!" Carter snapped.

"What?!" Mikey whined, sounding more like a little kid than he looked. "He's got a nice dick!"

"Yes, he does," Carter said, lathering some shampoo in to his hair. "But, you don't need to say anything about it. He just got here. Let him get used to being naked, first."

Wait a minute. Did Carter just say I had a nice dick?

I knew he had looked at my dick. We both had very openly looked at each other's (breaking the boy code by looking and breaking it again by not calling each other out for it). Now, Mikey was openly doing the same thing. If Carter liked my dick, though, that held good possibilities for me. I hoped that he would touch it or let me touch his by the end of the night.

"Sorry about that," Carter said as he handed me the shampoo. "Mikey really likes dicks. He will probably be looking at yours all night."

"Will not!" Mikey protested.

"Yes, you will," Carter teased. "You always stare at our dicks. I bet you don't even remember what our faces look like. You're too focused on our cocks!"

"Well, you're always playing with mine!" Mikey retorted, obviously annoyed by his brother's teasing.

I looked over at Carter when his brother made that pronouncement. I have never seen someone turn a deeper shade of red. Since he was nude, I could see as his entire body blushed in embarrassment. Mikey had broken the code.

Boys experiment with each other. It happens all the time, all over the world. It has nothing to do with being gay or straight. It has nothing to do with sexual attraction or romantic feelings toward one another. It is simply the way boys figure out their sexuality in a safe manner. There is a freedom which boys feel with close friends, siblings, or cousins, which allows them the chance to learn about their bodies in a safe way.

While this is common, it is not universal. Though, if my theory is correct, it would be even more common if more boys were open to expressing what they want. There are likely scores of sexually repressed young men out there who would love to experiment with their friends, their brothers, their cousins, or even their fathers. They want to know what sex feels like and they want to learn about it with someone they trust, someone who understands the impulses and desires they are feeling. But, they are too scared to speak up. Instead, they spend time quietly wishing they could do what they don't realize so many other boys are doing.

But, the thing is, you don't talk about it. That's part of the code. You experiment with one another – jerk off, blow each other, rim each other, even fuck each other – but, it stays a secret that you take to your grave. I would venture that most of you reading this had a childhood friend or family member give you your first blow job. I would also venture that you have never told anyone about it, or have only told your closest adult friends and only years after the fact.

Mikey and Carter, apparently, had been doing this together. As an adult, I am not surprised. There are a great many brothers out there who first learn about sex through fraternal experimentation. But, as a kid, Mikey's pronouncement broke the boy code. He was not supposed to admit to anyone that he and Carter had been playing around.

Just as I was about to ask Carter what Mikey meant, the door to the bathroom opened.

"Boys, time for dinner," Sean said as he pushed his head in to the bathroom. "Hope you all like fajitas!"

Saved by the bell, I thought.