Date: Thu, 12 Apr 2012 03:27:05 -0700 (PDT)
From: Zac Lucas <kiwee@y7mail.com>
Subject: Bright-Eyed and Bushy-Tailed Part 1

Bright-eyed and Bushy-tailed

[This story is fiction, but based on experience]

The IM box blips up: Tommy G would like to add you as a contact. Accept?
Decline?

I recognize the nickname.

'Hey.'

'Howzit?'

'Thanks for saying I wasn't lying or bragging about my size.'

'Welcome. Thanks for picking mine as Best Answer.'

'Well, those other guys said I was telling BS and just trying to show off
and stuff, but I wasn't.'

'Yeah, I figured that.' I press Accept. It returns: Tommy G is online. 'So
is it Tom, Thomas, or what?'

'Tommy. Most of the time. I hate Tom. Boring. Thomas if I'm in trouble, but
Tommy G. The G is for --'

'Gun,' I interrupt.

'Yeah, how'd you know?'

I shrug. 'Kinda obvious, really. But I like it. It's different.'

'Thnx.'

The cursor blinks a while.

'Can I ask you something?'

'Sure thing. I don't guarantee I'll answer, but you're welcome to ask.'

LOLZ.  Then a smiley face appears.

'Um. It's personal.'

'That's why it's called Men's Health,' I reply.

'Okay, but I just wanna be sure you won't be embarrassed, is all.'

I smile. 'Hardly ever. Usually the person asking the question is the one
blushing ten shades of red.'

'Yah. But I got olive skin, my mom says, so you can't really tell.

'Nice for some.'

'Haha.'

The cursor stops.

I wait for the revelation. Does he worry about whether or not he's gay? Is
it an abusive parent? Is he being bullied in school? What about something
less dramatic, but no less important in the life of a male teen in early
puberty? Perhaps he wants to know how to hide semen in his bedsheets, or
how to masturbate without making any obvious noise? Or like another
question went: 'will people laugh at me if I wear undies?' To which I'd
answered: only if you put them on the outside.

Tommy G is writing.

'Can I see your penis?'

I baulk.

'For real?

'Yah.'

'Why? There must be hundreds of images online you can look at if you want
to compare yourself. Just ask Mr. Google. He's your friend.'

'Haha. I've seen them, already.'

'And?'

'Well, I wanna see a real adult to know what I'll be like when I grow up.'

'Ask your dad, Tommy.'

'I can't. He left when I was nearly five.' My heart sinks. 'I got no one
else to ask: my two sisters and my mom try to help me learn things, but
well, they're girls. And my friends are okay, but half the time, I'm sure
they make shit up just to try to prove they know everything.'

'Sounds like most teens, actually.'

'Yah. So can I? Please?'

I chew this over. 'You're absolutely sure about this?'

'YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!'

What is it with kids and a zillion exclamation marks?

'Now?'

'No, next Christmas, dumbass. Of course, now.' Cheeky so-and-so.

'IF I do this, I have a rule, of sorts.'

'What?'

'I get yours in return.'

Silence.

'So you can jack to it?'

'Nopers. So that we're on the same ground; no one has advantage over the
other person. In other words: if you pass my pic on, I'll do the same to
you. But believe me when I say, I have no intention of doing that.'

'Same here.' Another short moment. 'So can I?'

I ponder. Something in me says: fuck it, why not?

I select the Share Photos option and wait for him to accept, which he does
in no time, then upload one I have of myself, about three-quarters hard.

'Wow. You're hot.'

'Thanks.'

'No, I really mean it.'

'I gathered that.'

'Got any more?'

I laugh. 'So you can jack to it?'

'I might.'

My turn to be stunned. 'Serious?'

'Yah.'

I upload the other shot. They're all I got. One takes a bunch of pics and
deletes most of them to get a couple of okay pictures left over. That and
using a flash helps when my room is a bit dark some of the time.

'You still wanna post me yours? Or are you too busy masturbating?'

A small file pops into the corner of the frame. I double-click. A low
whistle escapes my mouth. He was right about the size; and his skin
tone. His slender cock stops just beneath his cute belly button. It has a
slight curve near the tip. Pubes curl into a trim bush at the base of
Tommy's cock; his egg-shaped balls hang slightly down. There's something
about his genitals that just seem perfectly proportioned: nothing is too
big or too little or off-centre in any way. It's as if the David statue had
a tan and was reclining in a leather office chair.

My groin tingles. I touch the tip of my half-erect cock, and it's wet.

'You like?'

'Yeah', I reply. 'You know something, Tommo, I never thought I would say
this, but you have a very beautiful symmetry happening with your body. It's
as though you're completely at ease -- but horny -- with everything
about it. I can't really describe it.'

'You mean HOTTIE', he teases.

This time, I 'LOLZ'. 'You got it, pal.'

'Cool,' is his response. 'I like being nekkid. It's natural to me. Ever
since I was tiny, I would run around with no clothes on, but now, coz of
the girls and me being in puberty, I can only go nude in my room or when
they're out.'

'That sucks.'

'Yah. Can I ask you something else, Big Kid? I mean, Mark?'

'It's Zac,' I type. 'Mark was my old name. It means 'the warlike one'.

'Oh. What's Zac mean?'

'Laughter, or he laugheth.'

'Lolz.'

'Close enough.'

'I like it. Our neighbor's cat is a Zac. He's a Zac, through-and-through.'

'It's becoming popular.' I note wryly.

'Yah.'

I run an index finger beneath my shaft, and observe it rise in time to my
heartbeat. 'You were partway through your twenty questions, I believe?'

'Oh. Can we Skype?'

My eyebrows shoot up.

'Now?'

He fires back an eyeroll emoticon. 'No, next Christmas, dumbass.' This
kid's got balls, alright, and not just handsome hangers, either. 'Of
course, NOW.'

I weigh it up.

Screw it: in for a penny, in for a pound.

'When are they due home?'

'They're not. They're all asleep. I can hear mom's snores from my
room. She's a heavy sleeper.'

'And the girls?'

'Zee door ist locked, Herr Zac. Zay cannot get in.'

I smother a giggle. His humor appeals.

'So you need to see, what exactly? Can't imagine a good-looking, clued-up
smart guy like you has any problems spanking the monkey.'

'No, but my banana... I just wanna know if I'm doing it right'.

'Hell, kiddo, it's just up and down with your fist wrapped around the
shaft.'

'Pleeeaaase?'

'Don't beg. It's demeaning.'

'Well...?'

I must be ker-razy.

'Gimme a sec'. I'll just logout and switch over. Gotta hook up the
cam. BRB.'

'KK.'

I sign out. Scramble in the drawer for the cam and set it up on the corner
of the desk. There's a bit of a tangle with the long cord connecting to the
laptop, and it's heavier than the darn cam, but I manage to balance it,
somehow.

Skype chirps its distinctive tone, and when I log on Invisible as I always
do, Tommy's contact request is already waiting. Talk about raring to go...

'Ready, Mr G.' I tap the keys.

The video call comes on -- I answer. His image pops up. Rather, his
elbow. I adjust the angle of my cam to point to my groin, whilst watching
the image move left until his torso is in frame, then pans down to his
erection.

Words fail me. It's exquisite. That's the best way I can describe it.

Mine begins to throb.

The words spring onto screen from his side: 'How big?'

'Fwiw, about 6.2" hard and 6" around.'

'Fuck, really? It's huge. You sure it's not more than that?'

'Positive. Last time I measured, anyway.'

'When was that -- this morning?'

'Har, har, smartypants. When I was about 14 or 15.'

I'm just turned 13, three weeks ago.'

'Your question stated that, remember?'

'Oh yah' Sorry. I forgot.'

'No worries. You got other things on your mind, Tommy.'

His camera swoops up to reveal a boyish face, spiky black hair in a floppy
fringe, and a wicked grin plastered all over it. 'So have you, Zaccy.'

'Hell, yes.'

I cannot believe it: I'm practically mesmerized. Those deep, dark eyes --
brown, black? - have mischief written all over them. He must run rings
around his mother. Straight A's in class, when he puts in the effort, but
probably leaves study till the last minute, then aces his tests, just to
piss everyone else off.

His cam zooms out a notch and Tommy molds himself into the chair. He's no
newbie, that's for sure. Takes his twitching cock in his right hand and
begins.

I start to wank myself, correcting my own movements when habit tries to
take over and I find myself dropping into the same-old routine.

'When did you learn to jerk?' he asks.

'Just last week,' is my reply.

'LOLZ' again. 'Truthfully...'

'You wouldn't believe me, bud.'

'Yes, I would.'

'The earliest I can recall, is when I was four.'

His eyes widen. 'Real?'

'I don't lie.'

'Fricken hell.'

'What? Too young for you? That's what some ppl think.'

'No, man. That's when -I- started.'

Once again, I'm amazed. 'That's awesome.'

'Yah.'

No wonder his school friends give him stick; they're all jealous as
anything.

'I used to point my diddle under the faucet and wait till it got hard,
which it did real quick, and I got tickles all through my body. After the
first time it happened, I was hooked.'

'I bet.'

He strokes, but it's awkward. As though the rhythm is missing; or the
technique he uses, is for something else entirely, not masturbation. I
can't quite put my finger on it, but it dawns on me that he wasn't joking
about wanting help.

'Hey, amigo.'

'Si?'

'Come a bit closer, buddy.' He scooches nearer. 'I'm gonna teach -- no,
show -- you how you can really get mileage out of jacking off, with
little to no effort involved.'

'Shot, Zaccy. I knew you'd help. Show and Tell -- yee har!' The wicked
grin ignites.

'It's kinda the opposite to what you -- and most other guys --
think. Let me demonstrate...'


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