Date: Thu, 18 Nov 2021 08:12:59 +0000
From: Wes Leigh <weston.leigh@protonmail.com>
Subject: Misunderstood, Chapter 4 (Gay Adult/Youth)

MISUNDERSTOOD

By Wes Leigh



This is a work of fiction intended solely for the entertainment of my
readers; any resemblance to any real people or places is purely
coincidental.

This story is the property of the author and is protected by copyright
laws.  The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed
without the author's consent.

If you enjoy this story, please support the Nifty archives today with a
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Chapter Four



One month later, back in Amarillo, Texas, ...

"Another good day's work!"  Father Downing gently squeezed Andrew's
shoulder.

"Thank you, Stephen."

"Would you like something to drink?  I think we have lemonade and a nice
selection of sodas."

"I like everything," Andrew replied, grinning.  "You choose."

"Well.  If I'm choosing, then I think it will be ... sour milk."
Stephen winked to let Andrew know he was joking.

Andrew giggled, then wrinkled up his nose and said, "Dude, I ain't
drinkin' no sour milk.  You can have it all!"

Stephen pulled Andrew into a sideways hug.  "Sour milk for me.  Lemonade
for you.  We'll see who can sing better afterward."

Andrew looked up, puzzled.  "Sour milk makes ya' sing better?"

Stephen winked.

Andrew snorted.  "I ain't never heard anyone say that before."

Stephen cocked an eyebrow.  "Who teaches choir at school?"

"You do."

"Who directs the choir during Mass?"

Andrew giggled.  "You."

"Then who should you believe when it comes to tricks for singing
better?"

Andrew leaned his head against Stephen's side.  "You probably know lots
of ways to make people sing good, but I still ain't tryin' sour milk.
I guess I'll just hafta keep singin' like I do now.  Besides all that,
you said I sing real good."

"Did I say that?"  Stephen scratched his chin.  "Then I suppose we'll
try you out with lemonade first.  We can always make you drink sour milk
later, if you need it."

Andrew pulled away and ran ahead into the kitchen.  "I ain't gonna need
it."  He made a goofy face, sticking out his tongue.

Stephen laughed.  "Get us both a lemonade from the fridge.  I'm not in
the mood for milk at the moment."

Andrew pulled out two lemonades, handed one to Stephen, and sat down at a
table.  He opened the lemonade and drank half of it in his first gulp.
"Ahhhh, that's good!" he exclaimed.

Stephen followed suit, but drank his lemonade slower, savoring the
flavor.  "How was school this week?"

"Okay, I guess," Andrew replied, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.  "One
of my friends, Brent Williams, is being kind of a jerk to everyone.
Don't know why, but he's pissin' everybody off.  Oops, is it okay if I
say pissin'?"

Stephen chuckled.  "Sure.  I've heard worse.  I teach there,
remember?"

"Oh, yeah.  Then you probably seen how Brent's been actin' lately."

"Yes, I've noticed.  I think I may have a talk with him this week.
Maybe I can help him with whatever's upsetting him."

"That would be great.  We all like him, and we're worried somethin'
might be bad wrong.  He just ain't actin' like he used to."  Andrew
drank the rest of his lemonade, burped, and giggled.  "'Scuse me."

Stephen nodded.  "You're excused."

Andrew jumped out of his chair.  "I gotta use the bathroom.  Be right
back."

Stephen stood up too.  "I think I'll join you.  I need to go too."

As they walked down the hall, Andrew blushed slightly.  He hadn't
expected this, and he wasn't sure how it would go, having Stephen in the
bathroom with him.  What if his cock decided to start acting up?  Sure
enough, just thinking about it made it jump a little.  Andrew pushed his
fist into his groin and commanded his cock to stop misbehaving.  Of
course, that had never worked before, and it didn't seem to be working
now.  He could feel it getting longer, pushing down the leg of his
underwear.

Andrew pushed open the door to the restroom, holding it for Stephen.
Stephen thanked him as he passed by, heading for the urinals.  There were
four along one wall.  Stephen took the second one.  Andrew gulped and
walked up to the third.  Together, they unzipped their pants and fished
out their cocks.

Andrew stared straight ahead, too scared to look anywhere but at the
wall.  His cock was a little hard, but not a full boner yet.
Thankfully.  He pushed it down and squeezed his tummy muscles hard,
trying to force the pee to start.  Nothing.  He pulled the skin back away
from the end and tried again.  Finally, he managed a trickle, then a
steady stream.  He sighed, relieved, and glanced down out of habit.  His
cock didn't look all that hard, but it sure was sticking way out there.

He finished peeing and shook off the last few drops.  Out of the corner
of one eye, he saw movement.  Stephen was doing something with his cock.
Andrew tried to look without being too obvious.  Turning his head just
the tiniest bit, he could see Stephen's was a little longer than his and
a lot thicker, which wasn't surprising.  He was a grown man, after all.
And there wasn't much skin on the end.  Very little skin, in fact.
Probably one of those guys who were--what did they call it?  Oh yeah,
circumcised.  The skin was darker everywhere and the cap on the end was
dark too, a lot darker than Andrew's, almost purple.  Andrew giggled.
It was real funny looking.

"What're you laughing about, kiddo?" Stephen asked.

Andrew jerked his eyes back to the wall in front of him.  "Nothin'.
Sorry."

Stephen chuckled.  "Andrew, you don't need to apologize.  It's
perfectly normal to be curious about things like this."

Andrew gulped.  "I don't know what you mean.  What things?"

Stephen stepped back away from the urinal but didn't put his cock away.
Instead, he held his hands at his side and faced Andrew.  "You can look
at me all you want, Andrew.  It's okay.  Boys your age are very curious
about their bodies and about grown up men and what it will be like when
you begin to grow ... down here."  Stephen nodded his chin at this cock,
which was jutting out of the zipper in his pants.

Andrew wanted to look, but he didn't want Stephen to know that he wanted
to look.  He glanced over and then stared back at the wall.

Stephen put one hand on Andrew's shoulder and gently turned him so that
they were facing each other.  "I told you, Andrew.   It's okay.  You
can look all you want.  You can even touch.  You can ask me any
question.  I've taught at the Academy for five years, so I know how
curious boys are when they're your age.  You won't get in trouble, and
I won't tell anyone about this.  You can trust me."

Andrew's eyes were locked onto Stephen's face, afraid to look down.
Andrew smiled nervously, then took a deep breath and slowly lowered his
gaze to Stephen's long cock.  It seemed to be even bigger now and was
beginning to point higher.  Andrew was shocked.  Was Stephen getting a
boner?  The longer Andrew stared, the more obvious it became that Stephen
really was getting an erection.  Right here in front of him.  And he
didn't seem embarrassed or anything.  In no time at all, it was sticking
out and pointing almost straight up.  Very thick and long and amazing.

His own cock was also fully erect now, sticking straight up and throbbing
gently with each heartbeat.  He didn't try to cover it up.  There was no
point.  They were standing there, facing each other with their boners out
in the open.  He thought he'd be scared stiff if anything like that ever
happened to him, but he wasn't.  Well, one part of him was stiff.  He
giggled at the thought.  This was exciting, and he wondered what else
might happen.

Stephen smiled.  "I see you're uncircumcised.  Do you know all the
special things you should do to take care of it?"

Andrew frowned.  "Special things?"

"Yes," Stephen replied, "Cleaning your penis, especially under the
skin, so you stay clean and healthy there."

Andrew shook his head.  "No one's ever said nothin' to me about
that."

"Oh?  Well, they'll probably cover it in Health class this year.  It's
nothing really.  Just a few tips about pulling the skin down and washing
carefully all around underneath it.  It becomes especially important once
a boy reaches puberty and begins ejaculating."

"What's that?"

"Ejaculating?"

"Yeah.  That word."

"Ejaculating is when you shoot out semen.  It will happen when you get a
little older and start puberty."

"Oh, that," Andrew said, with a grin.  "Dude, I can do that already."

Stephen opened his mouth in surprise.  "Really?  Well, I guess I should
have expected that.  You are very well developed for a twelve-year-old."

"Huh?  What do you mean?"

"Your penis is large for your age.  You probably have pubic hair, too."

"A little," Andrew said, lifting his shirt to show Stephen.  "I've
had hair for a few months now, and my cock started growin' at Christmas
and never stopped."  He giggled.

Stephen smiled.  "I can see that.  You're probably as big as some of
the seventh and eighth graders.  I'm sure none of the other sixth grade
boys are anywhere close to your size."

Andrew shrugged.  "I suppose not.  I don't know why it started
growin'.  It just did."

"It happens at different times for every boy.  It's nothing to worry
about or be ashamed of.  But since it's happening sooner for you, there
are a few things you should be doing now.  To keep yourself healthy."

"Like what?"

"The main thing is what I said earlier.  Cleaning under the skin."

"I don't know what to do.  No one ever told me."

"Well, I can tell you, but it would easier to show you."

Andrew blinked.  He trusted Stephen, and in a way, he was shocked they
were having this talk at all.  He certainly hadn't expected it,
especially not with their cocks sticking right out in the open like
this.  He almost felt like putting his cock away and running out of the
restroom, but now Stephen was offering to do more and his tummy was
jumping with excitement and he wanted to try whatever Stephen was going
to do with him.  He nodded at Stephen.  "Let's do it," he said.

Stephen led him over to the sink and turned on the hot water.  "You
should use hot water and soap to clean there, just like you would
anywhere else on your body."  Stephen positioned Andrew in front of the
sink, then reached slowly for Andrew's cock.  When the boy didn't shy
away, Stephen took it firmly in his hand and slid the foreskin carefully
all the way back, exposing the pink tip.

Andrew gasped but said nothing.  Electric tingles were running through
his body, all because Stephen was touching his boner.  Andrew had pulled
the skin down just like this dozens of times before, but it had never
felt so wonderful as it did now, having Stephen do it.

Stephen held the foreskin back with one hand and wet his other hand in
the water flowing from the faucet.  Then he gently rubbed his wet fingers
all around Andrew's glans.  "Wash it like this, with hot water."

Andrew held his breath.  The tingles were making the hair on his arms
stand on end.

"Then use some soap," Stephen said, putting action to his instructions
by squirting a dab of hand soap onto his fingers.  He gently worked the
soap onto the end of Andrew's cock, rubbing it beneath the ridge of the
cap.

The electric pulses running all around the end of his boner made Andrew
whimper.

"After you clean it good with soap, rinse it off with hot water
again."  Stephen demonstrated several times, rinsing Andrew carefully.
"Make sure you get all the soap off.  When you let the foreskin slide
back up, like this--"

Andrew began panting.

"--you don't want to leave any soap behind to irritate the skin."
Stephen pulled the foreskin back down.  "See.  Nice and clean."

Andrew squealed.  And squirted.  Five hard pulses.  Into the sink for the
most part, with the last two landing on the edge of the counter and a
little bit dribbling out onto Stephen's fingers.

Before Andrew could panic, Stephen laughed and said, "Don't be
surprised if that happens when you're cleaning up.  It will, and it's
okay.  The nerves around the end here are very sensitive.  Don't feel
bad if you ejaculate.  It's perfectly normal."

Stephen squeezed Andrew's cock, milking out the last of the cum.  Then
he washed Andrew again, taking special care not to rub the now sensitive
tip.

"Let's wash our hands and put our erections away.  Then we can go
finish our lemonades and you can ask me any other questions you have.
Okay?"

Andrew nodded.  He thought Stephen was amazing.

And his cock thought so too.

***

School the next day was an unexpected disaster.

"Gentlemen, you are here because you broke a school rule.  Your
punishment is five days of detention, to be served each day after school
for the entire week.  You should count yourselves extremely fortunate
that you weren't suspended."  Mr. Williamson was a no-nonsense kind of
guy.  Easily the tallest teacher at the Academy, he was also the most
intimidating.  His bald, black scalp gleamed in the classroom lights, and
the frown on his face made it clear he would take no guff off the three
boys sitting in front of him.  "While in detention, you may read or work
on assignments.  You may not talk.  You may not use a cell phone.  If you
need to use the restroom, you will be excused for 5 minutes, no more, and
you will make up that 5 minutes by staying late.  I suggest you hold it,
if you can, until your parents arrive to pick you up.  I doubt they will
be happy coming to get you after detention is over, so I do not recommend
making them wait an additional 5 minutes."  He glared at the boys.
"Any questions?"

They shook their heads no.

Mr. Williamson opened a book and began reading and taking notes, creating
a lesson plan for the following week.

Andrew Wright opened his math textbook and started on his homework.  He
wouldn't need the full 60 minutes of detention to get it all done, but
at least it would pass the time.

Dallas Anderson pulled a novel out of his backpack.  It was a science
fiction novel written by his favorite author,  Robert Heinlein.  Might as
well enjoy himself.  It might be the last fun he'd have for a while,
especially when his parents found out what had happened at school today.

Brent Williams dropped his head onto the desk, using his folded arms as a
pillow.  He was exhausted.  He hadn't slept so great the night before,
thanks to his creepy brother Alex.  Brent planned to spend his detention
time napping, if that didn't break one of Mr. Williamson's precious
rules.

Andrew glanced at Brent with his head down and eyes closed, sitting three
desks away.  What a jerk!  Why'd he have to get so pissed?  It wasn't
like Andrew had done anything wrong.  The other boys were always asking
Brent why he was angry all the time, so why did he have to get mad at
Andrew for asking the same question all the other guys had asked a dozen
times already?

Brent didn't think he'd be able to sleep, but he tried to relax
anyway.  It wasn't easy to do with Andrew sitting a few desks away.
Since when was his personal life anybody else's business?  Especially
sissy boy Drew.  Drew, Drew, eyes so blue!  The taunt the other kids once
teased Andrew with came to his mind now.  Everybody thought Drew was so
great with his bright blue eyes and dark black hair.  All the girls
whispered about how cute Drew was.  Drew wasn't anything special.  He
was skinny and weak, not like that Anderson kid.  Dallas had bigger
muscles than his brother Alex.  That asshole Alex.  Dallas was an asshole
too.  Sticking his nose where it didn't belong.

Dallas sighed.  He couldn't concentrate on his book, because he kept
kicking himself for getting involved in the fight between Drew and
Brent.  It was stupid, really.  He should have let them handle it, but
Brent was a lot bigger than Drew, and there was no way it would have been
a fair fight.  Not that he owed it to Drew to help him out.  Especially
with the way Drew was spending so many weekends working with Stephen
Downing at the church.  Dallas was supposed to be Stephen's helper, not
Drew.  And now, thanks to stupid Drew and Brent, neither one of them
would be allowed to work at the church, probably for a long time.  His
parents would ground him for weeks, more than likely.

Andrew really didn't understand why Brent had gotten so angry.  All
he'd asked was, `Who poked your butt, dude?'  Toby Jacobs had said
almost the same thing yesterday, and all Brent did was snap back, `Your
momma, Toby.'  That hadn't made much sense, but it had made all the
boys laugh.  For some reason, Brent had gotten steaming mad at Andrew for
asking the same question at lunch today.  Brent had been a bigger jerk
than normal, snapping at everyone and telling them to shut up and eat.
Andrew had been trying to joke around with Brent, the same as everyone
else had been doing, hoping to get the guy to lighten up a little.
Instead, Brent had jumped up and thrown his tray of food into the wall
before knocking Andrew down and trying to punch him in the face.  Andrew
might have been smaller than all the other guys, but he was wiry and
strong.  He had managed to hold Brent off until Dallas jumped into it.
What was Dallas thinking?

Dallas shook his head.  What was he thinking?  Jumping into that fight?
And now he was in trouble along with these two punks.

Brent ground his teeth in frustration.  What was Dallas thinking?  It
wasn't his fight?  He should have let Brent pound that little jerk
Drew.  It would have taught the dweeb a lesson he'd never forget.

Dallas hadn't wanted to see Drew hurt, but maybe it would have been
better if he had let Brent beat him up a little.  Drew was getting
out-of-hand lately.  Pestering Dallas all the time, asking him if he was
going to be using the hot tub, checking to see if Dallas was working at
church.  And speaking of that, didn't Drew realize he was getting in the
way.  Every weekend Drew spent helping Stephen Downing was a weekend
Dallas missed out on his own fun.  Of course, Drew couldn't possibly
know that, but it still upset Dallas in a way he couldn't quite figure
out.  It was foolish, but Dallas was actually jealous of the kid.

Andrew knew there something wrong between him and Dallas, but he didn't
know what it was.  He was just grateful that Dallas had helped out when
he did.  If he hadn't jumped in and pulled Brent off, Brent probably
would have landed a fist on Drew's eye or nose.  That would have hurt
like hell.  Was that a word he'd have to remember for confession?
Probably not.  After all, he'd have plenty to confess this week.
Getting in a fight at school!  That sucked!  Uh oh.  Another bad word.

Brent groaned and sat up, leaning back in his chair and staring at the
ceiling.  Why was he so angry all the time?  It wasn't like Drew had
done anything that bad.  `Who poked your butt?'  It wasn't a mean
thing to say, and he had to admit he was being a pretty big jerk lately.
But hearing Drew ask that question just made him black out for second.
It made him think back to last night and what Alex had done to him.  It
made his butt clinch from the painful memory.  He couldn't punch Alex in
the face, but he had to punch someone, so Drew had made the perfect
target.

Dallas heard Brent groan and glanced over at the frowning sixth grader.
He didn't know what was eating Brent.  The kid had seemed to be out of
control at lunch.  Like he didn't know what he was doing.  And when
Dallas had pulled him off, Brent had punched Dallas too, screaming at him
and trying to smash Dallas in the face.  Of course, Dallas had had to
defend himself.  Brent was lucky Dallas hadn't punched him back, but had
instead wrapped the kid up in his arms and fallen on top of him, holding
him down.  It hadn't done Dallas much good.  The cafeteria monitor had
written him up for fighting too.  What a fricking mess!

What a fricking mess, Andrew thought.  Fighting at school.  His first
write up ever!  And Brent and Dallas written up too.  They'd probably
blame him for it.

Brent squeezed his fist.  Written up for fighting.  And it was all
Andrew's fault.

Andrew shook his head.  Some `good boy' he was turning out to be.  His
parents were going to explode.  His life was over.  They were going to
kill him for sure.

***

Surprisingly, Andrew did not get murdered by his parents that night.  Or
the next weekend.  But he did spend all day Saturday cleaning out the
garage, which he was told he'd be doing for the next month.

He didn't hear what punishments Dallas and Brent got.  They weren't
talking about it, and he wasn't talking to them.  They ignored each
other, passing in the halls without looking at each other.

Brent was still angry a lot, but it was a quiet fury, buried deep
inside.  Somehow, he managed to avoid getting in any more fights.

Dallas put the fight behind him, but the jealousy he was beginning to
feel for Andrew was growing daily, and he didn't know what to do about
it.

Andrew pulled deeper into himself, spending more time alone and less time
with the other boys.  He'd lost his friend Dallas.  He'd pissed off his
classmate Brent.   And it would be weeks until he'd get another chance
to spend time with his friend Stephen.  He was feeling more and more
alone, and he was miserable.

***

Dayna and Alan were arguing, trying to keep their voices down because
they didn't want Andrew to hear, but disagreeing completely on what to
do about their son.

"He's learned his lesson, Alan.  There's no point in continuing the
punishment any longer."

"I don't agree, Dayna.  I want him to know I will not tolerate this
kind of behavior.  Lifting his grounding now doesn't send the right
message."

"It was just one fight, Alan.  A fight Andrew didn't start, I might
add."

"That's not what Dwayne Williams said.  He told me Andrew was sticking
his nose in Brent's personal business, asking questions he had no right
to ask."

Dayna sighed.  "Alan, it's been two weeks.  Isn't that long enough to
teach Andrew a lesson?"

Alan shook his head.  "I won't have a son of mine acting like a
ruffian, Dayna.  Fighting like a common thug!  He dragged our name
through the mud, and I want him to understand that is not acceptable!"

"I think he's learned by now."

"I don't."

Dayna shook her head, exasperated.  "This is not right, Alan, and you
know it."

"Dayna, he has to learn.  What else can I do?"

"Talk to the boy," Dayna pleaded.  "Ask him to explain what
happened."

"We know what happened.  He was joking around with his friends, acting
frivolously.  It backfired on him.  The other boy reacted to Andrew's
interference, and they got in a fight.  If Andrew had kept his mouth
shut, the fight would not have happened."

"I think he knows that, Alan.  In fact, I think he's gone too far in
the other direction.  He rarely speaks at all, anymore.  I'm worried
that he's keeping to himself too much."

"Fine.  What do you suggest we do, Dayna?"

"I want to end his grounding, but we can still have him working
weekends, perhaps doing jobs around the church again.  He seemed to be
doing better when he was working with Father Downing.  We can ask the
Father to talk to Andrew while they work and help the boy improve his
attitude."

Alan rolled his eyes.  "Fine.  Do what you want, Dayna."

"And I want you to talk to him, Alan.  He needs your love and approval.
Let him know you don't like the way he behaved, but you still love
him."

"He knows I love him.  I shouldn't have to say it."

"I don't want you to say it, Alan.  I want you to show it."

"That should be obvious, Dayna.  Even to the boy."  That was the end of
the discussion, as far as Alan Wright was concerned.

Dayna was frustrated, but satisfied to have at least convinced Alan to
lift Andrew's punishment.  She took out her phone and called the church,
asking for Father Downing.

***

"Whew, it's dusty in here." Father Downing waved a hand in the air.
Floating motes fluttered away.  The attic was rarely used, so dust had a
tendency to coat everything in short order, stirring up whenever anyone
walked around up there.

"What are we working on today?" Andrew asked, eyes down, staring at the
floor.  He wasn't the same excited young man he'd been on previous work
sessions.

Downing decided drastic measures were warranted.  "We'll start over
here.  These old mats need to be stacked neatly against the wall so we
can sweep the floor."  He picked up a mat and tossed it on top of the
others, pushing them together.  When Andrew bent down to pick up another
one, Downing grabbed the skinny youth around the waist and lifted him in
the air, making the youngster squeal in surprise.  Downing plopped Andrew
down onto the stacked mats, holding him in place and leaning down to
stare into Andrew's eyes.  "And while we're working, you will giggle
more, talk more, and have more fun.  Have I made myself clear?"

Andrew stared up into Downing's warm brown eyes and saw the affection
there.  His blue eyes began to tear up.  It had been such a horrible
month, filled with arguments and fights and everybody refusing to talk to
one another.  He didn't understand why they were still fighting.  His
parents didn't understand why he was so upset.  But Father Downing--his
friend Stephen--seemed to understand.  He was the only adult who even
tried.  Andrew began crying softly, releasing all the hurt he'd been
holding inside.

Stephen saw the tears building up and overflowing, rolling down the side
of Andrew's face.  Stephen reached down and lifted Andrew up, taking him
into his arms and holding the sobbing youth.  "Go ahead, Andrew.  Let it
out.  There's no one here to stop you, and no one will know.  Let it go,
little man."

Andrew pressed his face into Stephen's chest, so warm against his
cheek.  And Stephen's arms holding him were so strong.  Stephen's voice
was soft and calm, letting Andrew know that everything would be okay.
The tears kept flowing.  Stephen rubbed Andrew's back gently, helping
Andrew to relax and easing his distress.  Finally he stopped crying.
Sitting back, he sniffed and wiped his face.

Stephen handed him a handkerchief.  Andrew blew his nose and handed it
back to Stephen, apologizing.

"Keep it," Stephen said, grinning.  "I don't want it back now."

Andrew snorted and giggled.  Then he looked at Stephen and solemnly said,
"I'm sorry I did that.  I'm not usually such a big baby."

Stephen smiled and wiped an errant tear from Andrew's cheek.  "Don't
apologize, Andrew.  Even grown men need to cry every now and then."

"They do?"

"Of course."

"Do you cry?"

"Absolutely.  Any time I need to.  Now show me that enchanting smile
I've come to expect from such an adorable young man."

Andrew tried to smile, but it wasn't easy.  There was still so much pain
inside.

Stephen cocked an eyebrow and said, "Can you tell me what has been so
bad lately?"

Andrew nodded.  Then he told Stephen everything.  About the fight,
detention, punishments and grounding.  He even told Stephen what he'd
said to Brent that started the fight.  Then, surprising both of them,
Andrew talked about how upset he'd been.  "It's been so bad, Stephen,
that I haven't felt like jerkin' off at all for weeks."  When Andrew
realized what he'd said, he clamped his hand over his mouth and squeezed
his eyes shut with embarrassment.

Stephen chuckled.  "Sounds like it's been a HARD few weeks you."

Andrew turned bright red and started to cry again, but Stephen shook him
gently.  "Andrew.  Little man.  I know what boys do.  I did it myself
when I was your age.  That's nothing for you to feel embarrassed
about."

"But you're a priest."

"I wasn't always a priest, Andrew.  When I was twelve, I got erections
all the time and I spent lots of time in the bathroom, taking care of
business, if you know what I mean."

"Ain't that a sin?"

Stephen shrugged.  "I suppose it is, so I sinned a lot when I was
twelve."  He chuckled again.

Andrew giggled.  "I sin a lot too, but I'm afraid to confess it to
Father Murphy."

Stephen smiled.  "You've told me now, so you're covered.  Father
Murphy need never know."

Andrew sighed.  It was so easy talking to Stephen.  He felt like he could
tell him anything.  Maybe even about Andrew's deepest secret of all.
But not just yet.  Maybe another day.

Stephen turned Andrew so they were sitting side by side.  "Feeling
better now?"

"Yes.  A whole lot better.  I sure appreciate ya' talkin' to me and
all."

"You're welcome, Andrew."  Stephen paused and asked, "So ... I don't
mean to be nosy, but has it really been weeks since you felt like
masturbating?"

Andrew blushed.  "Yep.  Last time was about three weeks ago.  I was
cleanin' it off like you showed me, with hot water and soap, and it felt
so good I couldn't hold back.  But I ain't felt like doin' anything
since then."

Stephen put his arm around Andrew's shoulders and hugged him.  "I know
you've had good reason to be upset, Andrew, but when you hold off for
weeks like that, it only makes your body even more tense, and that can
make you feel worse, not better."

"Dude, I know.  Just haven't felt like doin' it."

"I get it.  I do.  Maybe now that we've talked, you'll feel better and
take care of that E.S.P."

"E.S.P.?"

"Yes.  E.S.P.  Extra Semen Pressure."

Andrew stared at Stephen for a second, thinking about it.  Then he fell
back onto the mats, laughing and holding his sides.  Stephen leaned in
and tickled Andrew's ribs, laughing with him.  Andrew spluttered and
rolled around at first, then stopped suddenly and exclaimed, "I'm gonna
pee myself."

Stephen quit tickling and stood back, holding his hand out to Andrew.
"Jump up.  Let's take care of that first so I can tickle you more."

Andrew's only reply was a grin followed by a tongue sticking out in
defiance.

***

A short time later, Stephen held Andrew in his arms, his body pressed up
against Andrew's back, holding the youth in a gentle embrace.  Andrew's
pants and underwear were around his ankles.  His jutting erection was wet
and soapy, with one of Stephen's hands slowly stroking up and down.
Stephen's other hand was lightly massaging Andrew's balls.

Andrew leaned back against Stephen's broad chest.  He could feel a hard
lump pressing against his back and smiled, knowing what it was.  He
tilted his head back and whispered, "You can squeeze them balls a little
harder.  I like that."

Stephen complied, pulling down until Andrew gasped and whimpered.

"And a little faster on my cock."

Stephen's hand sped up on the slippery shaft, touching the sensitive tip
with each stroke.

Andrew moaned and closed his eyes.  After a crazy month, this was the
perfect finish.  He sucked in his stomach and squirted all over the
sink.



The end of MISUNDERSTOOD, Chapter Four