Date: Tue, 19 Jan 2021 16:16:06 +0000
From: Ethan Flowers <ethanflowers98@protonmail.com>
Subject: Corwin's Nudie Pic   chapter 2

  "Corwin's Nudie Pic" was intended to be a one-off, but I received
  several encouraging emails asking for about Lance and Corwin. So
  here's another chapter, and a third is planned.

  All the usual disclaimers apply. This story is fiction. None of it
  is true; any resemblance to real people (alive or deceased) or
  places is coincidental. If you're under 18 or it's illegal where
  you live to possess stories where kids actually express their
  sexuality, you should leave now.

  Sex scale:
 --> 0 - None at all (in this chapter!) I'm telling a love story. <---
     1 - Nudge-nudge, wink-wink. Maybe a bit of kissing and petting.
     2 - There's one sex scene, but it's pretty tame
     3 - I'm trying to balance story-telling and sex
     4 - There is some plot, but there's also a lot of sex!
     5 - Plot? What plot? Just a few words to set up the scenes.

  Please support Nifty to keep this useful resource alive. You might
  be using it for your pleasure, but for readers discovering their
  sexuality it can be a resource as well.

  Comments are welcome at ethanflowers98@protonmail.com.


    "Are you playing games on that computer again?"
    I sighed. My father and I had this conversation at least once a
month.
    "My homework's all done," I said.
    "But have you reviewed your previous assignments? You got a B on the
last report card. That'll cost you when you go to apply for university."
    I paused my game to look at him. "Dad, it's grade nine, and the
course I got a B in was geography. It's not like being unable to rattle
off the names of all the countries in the E.U. is going to permanently
handicap me for the rest of my life. That's what Wikipedia's for."
    His face darkened. I'd gone too far. "Don't talk to me like that!"
he snapped. "Do you want to end up in dead-end jobs like your bother and
sister? Rudy's closer to thirty than twenty now and what does he do? He
drives a bus, for crying out loud! Crappy clientele and Shift work, up
all hours of the day and night ..."
    I thought to myself, 'And a union that will give him a pension at
55.'
    "... and Janice, shacking up with that head-in-the-clouds artist
boyfriend of hers! Losers, all of them ..."
    'And I've never seen Janice so happy since she took up pottery and
started selling on e-Bay,' I thought. 'And she's getting good money for
it, too.'
    "... you need an office job, Lance! One with your own office where
you can make decisions that will affect more than just your own little
world ..."
    'Here we go again ... the big benevolent corporation speech.'
    "... it's companies that bring prosperity! And you'll do best being
someone important at one of those companies. In the executive suite
where the big bucks are--where you can do the most good for your country
and the rest of the world. But if you don't buckle down and do your
schoolwork, you'll end up in the same boat as your brother and sister,
barely scraping by month to month. Do you want that?"
    'Fallacy of the excluded middle,' I thought to myself.
    "Well, do you?"
    I may have been a teenager, but there were limits to even my
adolescent rashness. "No, of course not." It was what he wanted to hear,
after all.
    "Exactly! You have the smarts to make it, but you won't if you waste
all your time playing stupid games on that blasted computer. You need
ignore the mindless, useless crap and concentrate on making it into
business school! You can play all the games you want once you've spent a
few years making six and seven figure salaries. So shut off that
computer and get your books out!"
    He stood there, stone-faced, waiting. I clamped my jaw tight and
made a show of closing the laptop's lid before going into my backpack
for the geography textbook.
    "That's better," I heard him say. "Remember, I'm counting on you to
make your father and your family proud."
    And with that, he finally left my room.

    It was now February, nearly three months after the picture that had
made such a splash on QueShare, which had prompted me to reach out to
Corwin. He'd returned to school after the holiday break, stoically
endured two days of teasing, and went back to being his normal self. His
comment dismissing people saying they were going to beat him up as
bravado without action was so far proving true.
    Despite the picture and rumors about him being gay, I decided to
make him my friend in school as well as out. I convinced him to sit with
me and a couple of quieter friends at lunch, and gave my friends tips on
how to talk so as not to confuse him so much.
    Outside of school our relationship blossomed in ways neither of us
would have thought possible given our different personalities. He did
well with subjects like math and geography, but had a harder time with
language arts. He even had problems with history. He could name every
president since 1776, but struggled with nuances like the causes of wars
and the workings of political parties. I helped him as best I could with
those.
    Given his social awkwardness, he'd long ago retreated to computers
and the web for recreation, reading voraciously from innumerable
websites. His head packed in facts like sardines in a can. We took to
studying together, bouncing ideas off each other, asking questions that
might come up in tests.
    I took a risk and introduced him to my dad, saying studying with him
would improve both our grades. For a week Dad insisted Corwin come over
and study with me at our house, but as soon as I could I convinced him
we could do it just as well at his. I stretched the truth by saying
there was a complete set of Encycopaedia Britannica in his home,
invaluable for research. What Corwin really had was a fairly open
internet connection, giving us access to millions more pages of
information than any set of books. Dad, not really understanding
computers but knowing the power of the printed word, agreed I could
spend weekday evenings there.
    It was more than being able to spend time with my boyfriend that
made me anxious to get out of the house. Mom and Dad's marriage was an
acrimonious affair. Dad was overbearing, critical, and all too often
angry with my mom over slights, perceived and otherwise. She couldn't
cook well enough and the house was never tidy enough. He complained she
couldn't manage the household finances. They spent endless hours
bickering over bills, expenses, and almost everything else, including
me. She accused him of being too hard on me; he retorted it had to be
done because I was lazy and unmotivated.
    Instead of me being Corwin's shelter in a storm, he became mine.
Those evenings at his place, studying, reading, surfing the web and
playing games became my safe place away from rancor of my own home.
    Knowing he was gay, his family quickly realized our relationship ran
deeper than just a pair of new found school buddies. His parents, far
more open minded than mine, asked us to go slow and be careful. They
also told his younger brother to treat us with respect and keep quiet
about it. Almost the polar opposite of Corwin, Fraser was gregarious,
outgoing, and chatty. Fortunately he'd picked up his parents' social
values: his brother was gay, so why shouldn't he have a boyfriend?
Fraser knew full well he was straight, and even at his young age he was
expecting to get married and have kids of his own.

    This afternoon Corwin and I were sitting together on a sofa in the
basement of his house, him behind me, his arms around me. We were
enjoying some quiet time between getting home from school and me having
to be at home before my father got in from work. Fortunately that
wouldn't be for at least another hour, probably longer. Even then it
would only be for dinner, then I'd be back to study with him.
    "It's like I can't do anything to satisfy him!" I lamented. "I get
straight As except for one B, and all he can do is complain about the B.
So this semester I'll probably get all As and I'll bet he'll complain
because I haven't won the debating championship trophy."
    "Sounds rough," Corwin said. "You realize, of course, that's he
trying to live his life through you, right?"
    For someone who didn't connect well emotionally with people, Corwin
was unusually perceptive. He told he one way he handled his Asperger's
was by researching how normal people interacted.
    "What do you mean?" I asked.
    "It's obvious, Lance. He has an office job, but he's like only one
or two rungs up the corporate ladder. He's always dreamed of having the
big break, getting the big promotion, but it's never happened. He sees
your older brother and sister as losers because they don't even have
office jobs. You're his last hope. If he can't get into the C suite,
then it's up to you to do it for him."
    "How can he be sure I'll make it that far?"
    "In his mind, you have to. You have to be the success he and your
brother and sister never were. How old are they?"
    I had to think. "Rudy's thirteen years older than me, so that makes
him 27. Janice is a year younger, so she's 26."
    "Sound like you may have been unexpected." I could hear the smile in
his voice.
    "Yeah, I probably was. I mean, they had two kids about a year apart,
and I'm pretty sure that's all they had planned on."
    "Right," Corwin said. "And a lucky break for your dad. Because his
other two kids are disappointments, he's counting on you to make it all
up."
    "What if I don't want to?"
    He hugged me a little tighter, and nuzzled the hair on the side of
my head. "Sucks to be you, doesn't it?"
    Suddenly a door banged upstairs and we heard the sound of feet
running down the stairs. We jumped apart just as Corwin's younger
brother came into the room. He was twelve, almost thirteen and tall for
his age, with light brown hair worn in a stylish cut, unlike his
brother's normally unkempt black hair. He grinned when he saw us.
    "Oooh? Did I interrupt a little make-out session with your
boyfriend?"
    "Fraser!" said Corwin. "Okay, maybe we were a little close, but it's
not like we were all hot and bothered."
    The kid pointedly looked at our crotches. "Yeah, everything looks
cool down there. But how can you two be boyfriends if you're not pawing
each other all the time?"
    "Uh ..." Corwin started.
    I jumped in. "Fraser, maybe you can sit down for a moment?"
    My direct approach caught him off-guard. His cheeky expression
flickered. I tried to soften my expression and nodded over to a
comfortable chair. To my relief his face, too, get a bit more serious.
He went over to the chair and sat down. I sat down on the sofa and
gently tugged on Corwin to get him to do the same. I put a hand on his
knee.
    "First off, I really appreciate that you're cool with us being
boyfriends. I don't have that sort of support at home. My dad would go
ballistic if he ever found out. But being boyfriends isn't really about
... uh ... sex. Especially for us. For me, Corwin's someone who's here
for me; someone who will take the time to listen to me, and not judge me
for who I am, and not get on my case because I got one less-than-stellar
grade on a report card. As for Corwin ... I'm sure you know your
brother's not very good when it comes to being with people, right?"
    Fraser nodded. "Yeah. Like, when we went to parties and stuff when
we were younger I'd talk to anyone and everyone, and he'd just sort of
sit by himself."
    "Right. Corwin tells me he feels, well, alright with me. And because
I'm with him now at school--although no-one knows we're boyfriends--he
now has a larger group of people he's comfortable with. I've explained
how he's different to my friends, and it's let them get to know him
better.
    "For us, right now being boyfriends is us helping each other. He
gives me literally someone to hold on to, because I don't get any of
that at home. I'm helping him learn how to interact with, well, 'normal'
people--like you-- while at the same time helping those people
understand him. We don't get all lovey-dovey, holding hands and
smooching because it's not important to us."
    Fraser grinned again. "But you will eventually, right?"
    I grinned back. "I'll take a video and send it to you."
    "Gah! Too much information!"
    Corwin looked confused and a little uncomfortable.

    "So, what about sex?" Corwin asked.
    "What?" Coming from Corwin, the question was most unexpected.
    "Well, we're boyfriends, right? So do you think we'll ever get
around to ... having sex?"
    Until now this was just another weeknight. We'd finished our study
session in his room, which was furnished with a decent desk in addition
to a bed, along with a new permanent second chair for me.
    My mind sort of reeled. I loved Corwin's company, and I liked being
able to hug and hold him. But sex? When I was enjoying myself at home, I
was imagining being with some cute guy from school, but somehow never
Corwin.
    "Maybe," I said. "I mean, well, yeah, boyfriends probably have sex.
But maybe you can tell me. My internet's locked down harder than Fort
Knox after a mass shooting."
    "Mine's not entirely open either, 'cause there's two teenagers in
the house. Sometimes I wonder what having sex with someone else would be
like. I mean, I play with myself and it's alright, but ..." He trailed
off.
    I smiled at him. "Yeah, I have my fun, too. And, well, sex ed went
into how guys and girls do it, but that's about it. Not a word on how
two guys or two girls do it."
    "In this state?" asked Corwin. "We're lucky they even acknowledge
gay people exist." Having read more, he was much more aware of the
politics than I was. "People fought tooth and nail to keep any mention
of same-sex relationships out of the curriculum. That's why everything
taught in the course is all about heterosexual couples."
    "Yeah ... this is so funny, man! Here we are, two gay kids who are
thinking about having sex and we don't a clue what to do! Yeah, let's go
on QueShare and ask 'how do gay people have sex?' I'm sure we'll get
lots of replies from our friends."
    "Right," Corwin replied. "There might be some information in between
the death threats." But he had a smile when he said it, so I knew he
wasn't serious. Although he was an aspie, he had a sense of humor and
could actually be pretty funny at times.
    He continued. "But the sex ed gives us some clues, right? Like
kissing, foreplay, getting naked--"
    "Maybe we should start out with just kissing," I said. "I mean,
we're both really new at this. But kissing ... I think we'll be able to
handle that, right? And that might be all we'll be able to do for a
while. I mean, your parents and brother are home. And no way in hell
would I do anything like that at my place."
    "Yeah, that rather complicates matters. So for the time being I
guess sex is off the table--"
    "It's usually done in bed, right?"
    He laughed. "Or cars!"
    It was my turn to laugh. "Well, neither of us have a car, so that
leaves the bed!"
    "Or the rec room downstairs. Except I never know when Fraser's going
to show up with a friend."
    "Right," I said. "Fraser's alright with us, but his friends could
totally blow our cover. So that's out."
    Now Corwin smiled again. "Alright, we're putting the cart before the
horse. We're already trying to figure out where we can go to have sex,
even before we know what we're going to do!"
    "Oh, man!" I cried. "Yeah, I can see it now: we're there in our nice
secret hideaway that we've spent weeks plotting to get to without
raising the suspicions of either of our parents or your brother, and we
look at each other and say, 'So what do we do now?'"
    We both burst out laughing again. Corwin added, "Hey, how about we
ask your Dad along. I'm sure he'll give us lots of advice!"
    The idea was so preposterous I couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah,
advice on how to dig our graves, since we'd be needing them shortly! How
about your mom? Do you think she could help?"
    Now it was his turn to laugh. "You know, probably! I mean, I'm
pretty sure she knows some of this stuff. Yeah! Let's go and ask her,
'Mom, Lance and I want to have sex tonight but we don't know what to do.
Can you teach us?'"
    We burst out laughing again. Suddenly the door to his room opened.
We both spun our heads around to see Fraser with a really big grin on
his face.
    "You're talking pretty loud," he said.
    "Oh!" said Corwin. "Uh, how much did you hear?"
    "Well, first I heard 'Fraser,' then I heard all the laughing, then
you talking about asking Mom how to have sex. You're not really going to
do that, are you?"
    "Whoa, of course not!" Corwin replied.
    "But seriously, you don't know what to do?" asked Fraser.
    I answered. "Well, uhhhh ... sex ed class doesn't cover what guys
do, only boys and girls. And with parental controls on Corwin's computer
we can't exactly look it up. My internet's locked down tighter than a
mouse's ass so I can scarcely get to kid's sites, let alone anything
else. And it's not like either of us can ask guys at school."
    Unexpectedly, Fraser entered the room, closed the door behind him,
and sat down his brother's bed. "Okay, yeah, I see your problem. Not
that I can help you much. Like, except for you two I don't know any gay
people at all, or even know anyone who knows one. Now, me and my
friends, we talk about straight sex all the time. One of them has an
older brother who watches porn but has a crappy password on his
computer." He grinned. "I've seen a lot of stuff I shouldn't have been
watching!"
    "That doesn't help us very much," I said.
    "Hmm," Fraser mused. "maybe, for a price, I could get a you video or
two."
    "Oh, how?" asked Corwin. "I'm sure your friends would totally
believe you if you asked them to download some gay porn, 'for my
brother, you know.'"
    Fraser's eyes went wide. "Oh! Yeah, that wouldn't be a very bright
thing to do."
    I was struck with an uncomfortable thought. "Uh, Fraser, can we
count on you to keep this quiet? I mean, it would be really tempting
tomorrow to tell your friends 'my gay brother and his boyfriend were
talking about having sex last night except they didn't know what to do!'
It would make for a good laugh, but--"
    He cut me off. "Hey, Corwin's my brother, right? I've heard my
friends and their older friends say pretty bad things about gays. No way
I'm going to tell them about him or you. It'd be painting a target on
you!"
    "Okay, thanks."
    "I'm sure the information's out there somewhere," said Corwin. "I
can find out about lots of stuff on the internet. Some of it's really
neat and some of it's just plain weird. But even I'm scared to put 'gay
sex' into a search engine on my computer. I'd probably end up having a
real uncomfortable conversation with Mom and Dad if they found out."
    I asked, "Do you think the computers at the public library would be
blocked?"
    "Probably," he answered.
    "I've got an idea," we heard Fraser say.
    "What?" ask Corwin.
    "Ok, it's no secret I know more people than you do. Now, I can't ask
them 'how you do find out about gay sex on the internet.' But I can ask,
'how do you find things on the internet that you're not supposed to know
about?'"
    "Like, say how to find sex sites!" I said. "No, not gay sex, just
any site."
    "And how to bypass the web filters," Corwin added quietly.
    "That's it!" said Fraser. "Bypassing web filters ... I bet there's a
geek or two at your school who could show you something. And sometimes
geeks are like you, Corwin--you know, not really comfortable around a
lot of people. Ask them questions about computers. Some of them will
talk your ear off if you let them. They don't get a chance to do that
very much 'cause everyone else wants to talk about girls and sports and
who's going out with who."
    I grinned. "Brilliant idea! Gee, thanks Fraser!" Without really
thinking I jumped from my chair and gave him a hug.
    "Ewww, gross!" said Fraser, but with a laugh. "Help! Help! I'm being
molested!"
    "Maybe I should kiss you?" I asked.
    He grinned. "Don't even think about it!"

    Corwin and I spent the next week looking around the library, the
cafeteria, and the computer lab for kids meeting Fraser's description of
a geek. After four days we identified a likely candidate, or rather two
of them. A pair of older boys, both average height but obviously not
very athletic, hung out in the library with their laptops. They looked
like they were in grade 11 or even 12. Between their confidence using
the computers and the speed at which they could get things done, they
obviously knew what they were doing.
    Next we had to figure out how to approach them. I came up the idea
of asking for help with a minor problem. We searched the web for common
computer problems and hit upon "attachments in email don't open." After
learning about file associations, I went on to my laptop and deleted the
one for PDF files.
    Despite his awkwardness, or perhaps because of it, Corwin
volunteered to be the one to talk to them. On Friday that week I loaned
him my laptop and gave him the password for my account. After spotting
the geek pair in the library, we entered separately. I got a random book
from the stacks and sat down at the table next them.
    Obviously nervous, Corwin approached two boys at the table and got
their attention. "Uh, you look like you might know something about
computers. Do you think you might be able to help me out with
something? I mean, it works ok, but I can't open email attachments."
    "Hey there!" said one of them. "Sure! That's a simple fix! Can I see
your laptop?"
    Corwin set it down on the table. The older teen opened it. "Oh,
you're Lance, right?" he said when he saw the login screen.
    "Actually, I'm Corwin. This is an old laptop from a friend of mine."
    "Corwin?" he asked. "The kid from the picture?"
    Corwin put on a wan smile. "Yeah, that's me. I've grown a little
since then."
    "Hell of an embarrassing thing to happen. I'm sorry you had to go
through that. I can fix the username, too. By the way, I'm George and
this is Benny."
    "Oh, hi," said Corwin. His anxiety was kicking in.
    Now I made my move, getting up from the table and going over to
theirs. "Hey Corwin; what's up? Is that my old computer?"
    "Yeah, it is. It has a problem, so I asked these two if they could
help."
    "Yeah, it's a simple fix," said George. He slid the laptop over
Corwin. "Can you type in your password, please?"
    "Sure," Corwin replied, and did so. He was still pretty nervous and
it took him two tries to get my password right.
    "All right, this should take just a minute." At a blinding pace he
opened three windows, clicked a few things, and in less than thirty
seconds had restored the association.
    Beside him, Benny frowned. "Doh, he's using that reader! It's got a
bunch of security holes in it!"
    "Maybe we should fix that," said George. Looking at Corwin, he
asked, "Do you want me to install a better PDF viewer on your system?
It's faster and more secure."
    "Secure?" I asked. "How can a file reader be insecure?"
    Benny answered. "PDF is more than just a file format. It can do
things like execute JavaScript right out of the PDF, the same way web
sites can with your browser."
    Corwin looked at me, seeking my approval. "It sounds like a good
idea," I told him.
    He nodded and turned to George. "Sure, go ahead."
    George started my web browser, then immediately called up a
different search engine than the one I usually used.
    "What's that?" asked Corwin.
    "It's a meta search engine," George explained. "Google tracks you
all over the web and remembers every search you do. This one doesn't."
He entered a term into the page and opened the top two results in new
tabs. An ad window popped open; George muttered something and closed it.
"You need an ad blocker, too."
    While George worked, Benny launched into a monologue about third
party ad servers, insecure accounts, and malicious JavaScript. He told
us poorly secured accounts on advertising systems could be taken over by
bad actors, who replaced the intended ads with things like search engine
redirectors, cryptocurrency miners, unwanted pop-up ad programs, and
even software designed to steal bank logins and credit card numbers.
Not only did installing an ad blocker make for faster and cleaner web
browsing, it also protected the computer from malware.
    While I couldn't follow a lot of it, we'd obviously hit the jackpot.
George and Benny were probably the two most knowledgeable students in
the whole school when it came to computers.
    Then we heard George exclaim, "I can't get anywhere on this machine!
Damned near every site is blocked by the most anal nanny program I've
ever met!" He looked at Corwin, obviously flustered. "How do you manage
to get anything done on this system?"
    I jumped in. "He doesn't. When I gave him the computer, his dad
added a web filter that a friend of his had recommended, and then turned
it up to eleven." It was true, save for the fact it was my dad who'd
installed the software. It was one of the reasons I preferred to study
with Corwin. The web filter on his computer only blocked porn and a few
extreme political sites.
    "Dude, you need Linux," said Benny.
    "What's Linux?" Corwin asked.
    That opened the floodgates. For the next half hour the two young men
almost fell over each other telling us about Linux. They explained it
was an operating system like Windows and MacOS, but it wasn't owned by
any one company. Instead it was developed and distributed over the
internet by dozens of groups building their own distributions. All
perfectly legal, too, thanks to its open source licensing. It ran on an
astonishing variety of hardware, from tiny credit-card sized computers
to PCs, mainframes, and giant supercomputers with millions of CPU cores.
    They had it installed on their own laptops. They showed us how its
desktop environment was both similar to and different from the Windows
systems we were using. George pointed out that because Linux completely
displaced Windows on the computer, none of the Windows web blocking
software would be running. It was exactly what we were looking for.
    "All this is really cool," I told them, "but this computer and mine
are running Windows. Our parents wouldn't like it if we installed Linux
on them."
    "That's not a problem," Benny said. "Meet us here again on Monday,
and we'll bring a flash drive with a live distro on it."
    "Live distro?" I asked.
    "Yeah," Benny said. "It's a Linux distribution designed to boot and
run from a USB flash drive."
    George added, "Your Windows installation is untouched. When you're
finished playing around with Linux, just shut it down, remove the flash
drive, and restart the computer normally."
    "Can you bring another one, too?" I asked. "I want to try it out
myself."
    We met again on Monday. As promised, Benny, the more technically
capable of the two, brought along two flash drives containing a very
usable distribution. He had to fiddle with my laptop's BIOS settings to
turn off secure boot, but after that with the flash drive plugged in,
Linux started and ran flawlessly. When prompted, Benny created a save
area on the flash drive so I wouldn't lose settings between runs.
    I offered to pay them for the drives but they refused. For them,
trying to get us off Windows was motivation enough.
    We spent three days with them, learning the basics of Linux under
their rather chaotic tutelage. George was more sociable and even minded,
while Benny was all over the place, madly jumping from one topic to the
next as it occurred to him. George preferred the desktop environment;
Benny was often typing commands in a terminal window. The pair ran
different distributions and every once in a while traded barbs about
their favorite software. I took as many notes as I could, while Corwin
sort of absorbed the information.
    Fortunately the second USB drive worked on Corwin's desktop system
once we figured out how to get it running. Every day after school we
started his computer from the flash drive and tried out a few things. As
expected, without the web filter software running, nothing was blocked
and we could surf anywhere at will.
    With remarkable restraint from both of us, we waited until after
we'd finished studying on Wednesday evening before booting Linux,
navigating to a secure search engine, and typing in 'how do gay men have
sex'."
    We got a real crash course! In retrospect, things like sucking cock
and anal sex were pretty obvious. It was a lesson that sometimes even
seeming obvious things may not be so until one is exposed to them.
Corwin likened it to a civilization not inventing the wheel.
    Further exploration led us to porn sites with pictures and videos.
Most refused to show more than a few images before demanding payment,
but what little we saw was enough to introduce us to the possibilities.
Following a series of web links that neither of us could recall, we
eventually landed on Nifty and its treasure trove of stories.
    Finally we knew what to do. All we needed now was some place
private.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

I formatted this chapter using indented paragraphs usually used for
printed works, instead of the more traditional block style used in
email. Do you have a preference? Let me know!


If you enjoyed this story, you might like the other one I have on
Nifty: A Hole in The Fence, in Young Friends