Date: Sat, 14 Jan 2012 10:50:20 -0800 (PST) From: David Copperfield Subject: Roommates Each of these vignettes is a single scene, an episode in the life of a boy or boys, an introduction to some of life's delights. They depict youngsters' first steps into the mysteriously exciting unknown. Where they may go thereafter is left to the fertile imagination of the reader. But remember: even in your imagination the boys should always be the ones to decide. I trust you all to handle them with consideration and care. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Roommates "No, Dad! You can't put that little kid in my bedroom!" Dad and I had always been on really good terms. That meant I could almost always talk him into or out of anything I wanted as long as it was at all reasonable. But this time he wasn't budging. "I told you, Jeremy. There isn't any choice. I'll be doing almost all my work on my computer here at home from now on. I need a space, an office where I can do my work in peace away from two noisy boys. And if I dedicate one room just to work I can take it off my taxes." He looked appraisingly around Jeremy's bedroom. "Actually this room would make a better office. It's a lot bigger than Dickie's." For a moment I was really scared: was I going to lose my room? Then I caught on. "But Dad, he's only six! He'll get into all my stuff! He might break my models!" I prized the shelfful of accurately modeled ships and planes I had slowly acquired since I was Dickie's age six years ago. My dad shook his head disappointedly. "You know better than that, Jeremy. Dickie is a quiet boy who does what he is asked and never makes trouble." I stopped and stammered for a moment. I only had one weapon left and I was scared to use it. "But dad...a kid needs some privacy!" "Ah... now we are getting down to it. What does he need his privacy _for_?" "For....listening to the music he wants and ---" "You have earphones for that." "And well, like writing stuff for school and talking with your friends online without some kid looking over your shoulder...." Dad pursed his lips. "YOu know Dickie won't do that. Come on now...what do you do in private that you don't want Dickie to see?" I hung my head. I could hardly speak. "I think you know, Dad." Dad nodded seriously. "I know you're a twelve-year-old boy. I seem to remember that twelve-year-old boys take time most evenings to pay attention to themselves." "I...uh...well maybe, a little, but...what if Dickie sees me?" "What if he does? He's a boy too, with all the regular boy parts. Just in smaller sizes." I chuckled but I was still embarrassed. "Yeah, but they're like, asleep. They don't wake up till you're eleven." "Who told you that?" "Danny." Danny was my best friend at the time. Still is, in fact. "And do you know whence cometh this wisdom of Danny's?" My father liked to put on old-fashioned talk for comic effect. "I dunno, that's what he said. I didn't ask him anything more about it." "I think I can guess," Dad said with a smile. I caught on. "YOu think that's when he learned how?" Dad nodded. "Was it Danny who introduced you to the gentle art of masturbation?" "Uh, well... yeah. I mean, he told me about it and what to do, kinda." "He didn't demonstrate?" "Only with his fingers. He'd rub one with the other, you know...." "He only used his fingers on himself? He didn't do the job for real to show you how? Or even offer to do it to you? That's usually the most effective way of teaching that particular skill." From the way Dad put it I started to feel as though I might have missed out on something. But I was even more embarrassed than before. I shook my head. "Nope. He didn't do any of that." "But his teaching was enough to give you the idea?" I nodded, still blushing slightly. "I got it figured out in bed that night." "Did you believe Danny when he said you had to be eleven to do it?" "Well, sure. He was the one who knew about this stuff. And anyway I remember when I was Dickie's age I used to, y'know, play with it in the tub but it never got stiff or anything so it didn't, like, mean anything. I think I was just too young then." "Did you see Dickie in the bathtub last night?" Father and son had helped the younger boy wash and dry himself. He had sprung a tiny erection which he wagged at them with a delighted chuckle. I blushed again. "Yeah...that was funny but it doesn't mean anything." "How do you know?" "Because he's way too young to feel...y'know, like get the feeling." Now I was really blushing. "You'd be surprised. Lots of kids littler than Dickie get the feeling every night." I gaped at him. "They do?" "Yup. Most of the little ones get it rubbing on their bed or their pillow. Babies can get it by rubbing on their diapers." I gaped wider. "Babies? How do they know? I mean, how do the people know they're doing it?" "A baby humps his diaper with about the same motions that a boy uses on a pillow or in a girl. It's not a hard skill to pick up. Well, not on a diaper or a pillow or even on another boy. A bit harder at first with a girl." Did my father just say "on another boy"? Whoa. Was he reading my mind or something? I thought of other boys every night when I did it. I thought about Danny doing it in his bed and Peter and Johhny and Elmer maybe doing it in theirs. I thought about Danny doing it beside me in my bed and then touching him and he was touching me and... that was usually about all it took to bring my train into the station. Did my dad guess that? "Anyway, the point is that a six-year-old boy is quite capable of getting the same feeling you give yourself. Every boy learns sometime. Dickie will learn it sooner or later, by himself or from someone else. Why not his big brother?" Gaping was becoming a permanent fixture now. I was afraid my face would freeze and I would be stuck that way the rest of my life. "You want me to teach my little brother to jerk off?" "That would be entirely up to you and your little brother." "But he doesn't know anything yet. How should I start?" "However suits you and Dickie best. I'm sure you are going to give him a talk about how to behave in your bedroom, what to do and what not to do. Then you could mention what's ok for boys to do in bed and that it's a boy's secret from grownups. Something like that. Or you could just give him a demonstration -- but I wouldn't use Danny's finger-on-finger method because remember, the reason you're teaching him is so he won't freak out when he sees you do it." "So I should let him watch me do it for real?" "Only if you are both comfortable with that. If he seems uncomfortable you can just tell him that he will probably see you doing it under the covers and not to worry about it." "But...what if he asks me to, uh, help him?" "Do you use a lubricant when you masturbate?" "A what?" "A lubricant. Something to make it smooth. A dab of hand cream or something like that." I shook my head, till blushing. "No, dad. I just rub it dry or maybe spit on my hand." "There's a jar of handcream in the bathroom cabinet. You'd be surprised at how much a drop in the right place can enhance your enjoyment. And it's vital if you are doing it to someone else so you don't accidentally make him sore." I had to force myself to stop gaping. A sudden thought helped. I gave my dad a stern look. "Did you ever teach a kid?" Dad shrugged and said, "A few. Long ago, of course." "How many?" He seemed to be doing a mental computation. "Six in all. But most of them only once or twice." I didn't know how to follow up on that. But then I did. "Were they little kids like Dickie?" "No. Bigger kids. Mostly kids about your age." Just then we heard Dickie calling me up to the bedroom. I gulped, glanced over at dad, croaked "Good night" and got out of there fast. I had a lot to think about. Dickie was looking around the bedroom in awe and delight. He ran up and gave me a hug. "This is so cool!" Then he stepped back and looked abashed. "Is it all right for me to move into your room? Dad told me I had to be very careful and not to touch your stuff and I will and I won't." "OK then, you can stay. But remember: don't go near my models and don't get into my books and stuff." "Can I use the computer sometimes to play games?" "Only when I'm here. No computer if I'm not. OK?" "OK." He ran over to the bed where I was now sitting and gave me a hug. OK, I thought, here goes. I pulled him over till he was standing between my legs. "Now, then. Another thing. This is a big boy's room. Big boys do big boy things in their rooms." Dickie gave me an "I already knew that" look. "Of course." "Some big boy things are secret, not to tell to grownups. Or even anybody." Now the little boy's interest was really piqued. He moved in closer and whispered: "Like what? I promise not to tell." I helped him out of his shirt and took off mine. His bare chest was touching mine. I hugged him gently, then reached around and stroked his buttocks. He wriggled in embarrassment and pleasure. I looked down at him. "Big boys take their pants off to do big boy things." My little brother's brow was furrowed. He was thinking hard. "Are you going to take your pants off?" I nodded and stood up. Dickie watched closely as I loosened my belt,removed my pants and threw them onto a chair. My briefs were still on and Dickie was staring fixedly at them. Then he giggled. "Your thingie is moving around in there!" I took hold of his pants but didn't push them down. "Let's see how yours is doing," I suggested with a smile. He reached down and pulled his own off. His little spike was standing to its full inch-and-a-half. He stared at it and blushed. I hugged him again and said, "It's supposed to do that." I pulled off my briefs to reveal my own erection. Dickie's mouth made a little O. He reached down and fondled his own without knowing why. I started to fondle mine, bringing it to its fullness in a stroke. Now it was Dickie's turn to gape. "Is this what big boys do?" I nodded. "Want to learn how?" "Show me show me show me!" He chortled. I suddenly thought of something. "wait here a second. I just have to get something from the bathroom." I left him still holding his stiff little organ in puzzled wonder. In less than a minute I was back with a jar of hand cream. I hoped it was the right stuff. I had just grabbed the first one I saw. "What's that for?" Dickie asked. "For naked boys to play with," I smiled. "To play big boy's games." I put the jar on the nightstand and laid Dickie face up on the bed. Then I joined him. Each of us was holding his own penis but Dickie wasn't sure what to do with his. I thought of stroking mine for him to watch but then I thought what the hell, let's cut to the chase. I poured a drop of cream from the jar and put my slippery hand on his tiny penis. He jumped. "Ooh! That's naughty!" I moved my thumb and forefinger softly around the head. "It's naughty but it's nice. Isn't it?" For a few moments there was silence. Then Dickie asked softly, "Can I do it to you?" I removed my hand from his penis just long enough to moisten my own. Then he pushed mine off and replaced it with his. He turned and looked fixedly at its hand and its task. We tickled each other and toyed with each other and stiffened each other's resolve for several minutes. Several wonderful minutes. Then I noticed that his hand had stilled. Now he grabbed my right hand with his left and forced it down harder onto himself. He panted and grunted, "Faster...faster...faster!" He lifted his whole lower body off the bed, thrust wildly twice and fell back with a dazed look. He lay there staring at the ceiling for several minutes. His hand was still on me but on me it was still still. Then he raised his head and gave me a kiss on the cheek. "Now I'm a big boy!" He chortled. He knew he had a job to do. He was dutiful, always happy to be of help, especially to his big brother. Now he knelt over me and took my penis in both of his little hands. He twirled and he tickled and he rubbed it up and down, experimenting to find the magic touch. A combination of twirling and rubbing achieved his desired object. At the end I raised up just as he did and blew myself to glorious extinction in his fingers. I squirted one little drop onto them. He smeared the drop around to feel its consistency. "What's that? It's not pee." "No. It's special juice that big boys get when they play the big boy's game. Bigger boys squirt lots more of it." Dickie looked at his fingers, thought for a moment and asked: "Do you know any bigger boys?"