Date: Thu, 24 May 2007 10:48:02 +0200 From: Peter AM Subject: Camp Blue Otter 10 Bears Do shit in the Woods. To all of you who have clamored for more action, thank you for sticking it out with me for this long. You might say that Howard is a slow starter. However, as with discovering masturbation, once you get started, there is just no stopping... Blue Otter 10: Bears Do Shit in the Woods. Back at our tents two guys at the picnic table gawked at Sam's bare ass while we got into our tent. We slipped into the sleeping bag and next thing I knew I woke to the noise of clanging on the cauldron. Guess I must have been tired from not sleeping much at night. We got up and were marched off to our next activities, First Aid for Sam now, Live Sketching for me. Live Sketching Class. Our instructor for Live Sketching was Martin. Martin looked like a big no_nonsense kind of guy, not what I would have pictured as the artsie type. He wore glasses, trunks, and nothing else. Martin started by reading out the class list, matching up buddies as he went along. I guess Live Sketching was not very popular. The session that I was in was the only one there was, and there were only eight of us, with me being the youngest. I got matched up with Vincent. Vincent was tall, skinny, sixteen years old, had slightly watery green eyes, very dark hair and very pale skin, and lots of acne. For some reason he didn't look very healthy to me We were all handed paper and pencils and next they wanted a volunteer to pose. One pink fat guy put up his hand but it wasn't to volunteer. He said he wanted to switch buddies with somebody else. Martin asked him "what was your name again?" Stan was his name, and he didn't care who he was going to be buddies with, just not his current buddy. His current buddy was Jake, a muscular black guy, probably about sixteen, like Stan himself. Even more striking than Jake's muscles was his dick. It hung down way below his balls, I thought it was huge. Yes Jake was bare naked. OK, let me back up a little bit. My eyes were positively bulging when I first saw naked boys at the swim trials. But since then, I had gradually been getting used to the sight of exposed butts. At camp Blue Otter, it was a common sight. Not in our own group of Lake Trout, mind you. For me to go skinny dipping with our group in the pool was a huge deal. But the veterans were perfectly casual, you could see them skinny dipping and laying nude on the shore all along the river. If I hadn't been so paranoid about popping a boner I would have spent more time sight seeing there, but being the weasel that was I had mostly avoided that area. Around the buildings and for the activities, the newcomers and even most veterans showed up wearing at least shorts. But more and more I was starting to see bare butts, like Jakes' buns of steel. The leader Martin asked Jake if HE wanted to change partners as well, but Jake just shrugged his shoulders. He didn't care. Then Martin said he was disappointed in Stan, he should have known that buddy assignments were permanent. Once you got paired up you stuck up for each other, no matter what. Next he told Stan that he was his first volunteer and ordered him to stand on the platform up front, and not to move for five minutes. Stan looked like he was about to protest but then he gave in and did as he was told. For a second pose Stan had to take off his shoes and socks and sit still for ten minutes. With double the time available, Martin expected us to include details such as toes and toenails. After that he asked for a new volunteer and Vincent ended up replacing Stan up front. Martin seemed to know Vincent and asked him to take off his shirt, which Vincent did without hesitation, showing he also had acne on his shoulder and upper back. Vincent ended up with slightly more difficult poses, pretending to run, pretending to skate, and crouching down for the ten minute pose. To be honest with you, Vincent was not that pretty, and my eyes kept wandering back to Jake's muscular buns. I have to admit I even moved around to where I could also see his dick. Before I knew it, our hour was up and the class dismissed. Sketching Vincent After class Vincent remarked that he hadn't seen me before. He had been here three summers already, and had taken the life sketching class twice before. So I told him this was my first year at camp Blue Otter. Vincent was surprised to hear I had not even gone to high school yet, because all the other sketchers here had already studied art in high school. Me, I had learned from a step_by_step instruction book. Guess I had a lot of spare time in my exciting life. "Do they usually ask you to take off your shirt?" "Well the first time they just ask us to take off shirts and shoes, but next time time it will be completely au naturel." I suppose that should not surprise me in this skinny-dipper's paradise, but I suddenly realized I could have a real problem when it would be my turn to pose. "The human figure has got to be the most interesting subject to sketch" continued Vincent. "Covering it up would only defeat the purpose." Next he asked me what I would like to do in our free time. "I don't know. What do YOU want to do?" "How about we practice some more life sketching? We can sketch each other." Vincent pulled his own pad of sketch paper and pencils from his backpack. The sun was starting to get pretty high so we walked into the woods for some shade, until we got to a fallen tree trunk that was convenient to sit on. Vince volunteered to pose first while I would sketch him. He gave me his sketchpad and pencils, and without any further ado stripped down to his underwear. Then he sat down on the log beside me and told me to go ahead. With Vincent being this close, I decided first to draw only his head, instead of the whole figure. I finished in about ten minutes and showed it to him. Vincent was delighted, saying that I had talent and that I had really captured his likeness. He said it was a good idea to do a study on single body parts and asked what body part I would like to study next. I suggested hands, and he laid them still on his knees for me to draw. Actually, I've always had some difficulty with hands and when I finished after another seven minutes or so, Vince looked at my sketch critically and made some corrections over top, explaining to me where I had gone wrong. When he asked me what I would like to sketch next I suggested why not try getting you from the back, maybe a full figure for a change. OK, he said, and walked ten feet away to lean against a tree, with his back turned towards me. This time I didn't go for too much detail and finished in about five minutes. Vincent seemed pleased with the results, commenting that I had a good eye for correct proportions. Then he suggested that I sketch his front next, and posed with his underwear only two feet away from my face. It was tight enough that I could make out not only his bony hips but also where his dick and balls hung. I did OK with the outline of his underwear, but had a little difficulty in making the bulges look realistic. It took me about ten minutes to refine the shading to make the whole thing look three dimensional. When Vincent saw the result he said it was not bad and asked if I had done this before. I answered that if he meant drawing a close-up of underwear then no, this was my first time. He said I had done OK for a first time, and then asked me if he could keep my sketches. I told him, yeah, sure, it's your sketchpad so you keep it. To myself I thought, no way that I would take those sketches home. If anyone found my close-up sketch of somebody's crotch, I would never live it down. We still had another hour of free time and Vincent asked politely if he could draw me next. I guess that was only fair so I agreed. Vincent sketching me Vincent decided to follow my lead, and draw just my face first, next just my hands, and then the full figure from the back. Finally he did a close-up. Don't move, that was the number one rule for posing, but try telling that to my little pecker. Not possible, not with Vincent staring at it this closely. I started bulging out and I ended up adjusting it sideways. I started to make excuses but Vincent said it was fine, he liked variety and any pose was a good pose. After I saw the results I had to admit that Vincent was a more accomplished artist than me. The first one of my face was not that great. The proportions were correct and the shading was nice, but somehow it did not really look like me. However, the hands looked professionally done, as did the full figure from the back. Now for my Speedos, he had actually managed to fit in three quick sketches on the same paper, showing a progression of my dick down, bulging out, and then a complete erection forced to the side. I had to blush when Vincent showed me. "Gee, Vincent, I didn't know you could sketch that quick. And it looks so, so, well accurate, I guess. Like you could reach out and touch it." I blushed even more when I realized how I stuck my foot in my mouth again. Vincent, however, looked pleased, and lectured me like an old teacher would. "Its all just a matter of observation and practice, and you, my boy, you have the eye. Just look at this portrait you sketched of me. You caught at once what makes me looks like me: the thin lips, high cheekbones, you even noticed that my right eye is positioned slightly higher than my left. All that in a ten-minute sketch. Your shading and texture are a little rough, but that is just mechanics." "Thanks Vincent, but I don't think I could ever sketch as good as you." "Don't be so modest Howard. I think that with practice you could be the best artist in class. You know we should practice sketching each other after every single art class. Me and you, we will have the best documented bodies in the world. What do you say?' "Uh, OK. I mean, it's cool. I think I would really like that" "Great, that's the spirit" said Vincent, ruffling my hair. "Spoken like a true artistic spirit. Me and you, Howard, we're both artists and observers at heart. I'm glad we're partners." I liked Vincent's idea of sketching each other, and he had great technique and I figured I could learn from him, but I was not so sure if I really like Vincent himself. Him ruffling my hair is an innocent enough gesture, but I guess I still did have my sensitive space, and I took a step back. Vincent hesitated and then said "You're right Howard. It's time to get back to the others." I waited for Vincent to finish dressing, and we walked back to the kitchen together. Sam meeting Vincent before Lunch Sam was already waiting at a picnic table outside the kitchen and I introduced him to Vincent. He asked us what it was again that we just did and I told him live sketching. Sam asked if I could show him and I said no but Vincent was already pulling out his sketch pad. He said I had a good eye and showed Sam the picture I had sketched of Vincent's face. "'Wow!" said Sam. "That looks really like you. Howard, you never told me you could draw like that." "I was just lucky" I said, "that one turned out better than most." Switching the subject before Vincent would page over to the crotch sketches, I asked Sam how his First Aid had gone. "Boring" said Sam. Glen and Matthew showed up just then and took the troops into the kitchen. Skinny wrestling and respiration Back in our tents Sam dove at once into the sleeping bag, taking off his shorts under the covers, and I did the same. "Bet you have a boner" I guessed. "Nope" replied Sam, "you just lost a brownie point, what's the score now?" "I think it was One-Two before." "OK Howard, then I'm guessing that you're the one with the boner now" and with that Sam threw open the cover, so we both saw that I did and he didn't have a boner. Guessing that I had a boner was like shooting fish in a barrel, you couldn't miss. "Score is Zero-Three" Sam said triumphantly. "Now how about you see if you can blow up my pecker with that mouth-to-mouth practice?" "You mean you want a blow job?" I joked. "Hah, that's even better" laughed Sam. I did the usual routine, lifted Sam's neck, opened his mouth, checked for obstacles, closed his nose, and blew. And sure enough, Sam's pecker rose up, responding like clockwork. I told Sam, "Look, I've found the remote control to your pecker" and we both laughed. Sam blew me next, but since my pecker was already up he didn't really get any response other than my chest rising. But then Sam started to wrestle me and ended up sitting on my belly and pinning my shoulders to the ground. I bucked my hips and threw him off, but he managed to get right back on in about the same position, only this time he was sitting further down. "Uh, Sam, you're sitting on my uh, you know." "Yeah, I can feel that. Does it hurt?" "Well, no." "How about now?" and he ground down shifting his full weight on his hot bare ass. "Oof, get off!" "How many brownie points do I get for getting off?" "Zero, you have to earn them." Sam let up a little and then pounced down on me with his full weight again. "Aah, stop. Alright, I'll give you True or False questions. If you answer right, you get your points" "Fair enough" said Sam, and got off me. I looked down to my hips and stiffened member, but saw no sign of injury other than perhaps a little more redness than usual. True or False: Worst Boners "What should I ask you questions about?" I asked. "Well, what's our favorite topic?" "Boners?" "Yup, boners." "OK, guess how old I was when I saw the first naked full-blown boner, other than my own." "Gosh it could have been any age. That question is way too hard. I'm supposed to have at least a 50% chance of guessing right, True or False," Sam protested. "But the answer is easy Sam. I was fourteen, and you were there. Matthew's is the first boner I've ever seen exposed, and yours was the second." "Gosh Howard, I'm flattered. But I find it hard to believe you've never seen ANY boners until now." Then I thought back of Drake. How could I have forgotten already? "Uh, actually you're right, I forgot about Drake." And then I spilled the beans about Drake, about us comparing boners in the change stall, with Sam showing a keen and sympathetic interest, asking me for more details. It made me feel better, coming clean with Sam, about at least one of my own deep dark secrets, after all Sam had shared with me. "You're still supposed to give me True-or-False questions about boners" Sam reminded me. Well I had a topic that had already been playing on my mind for a while. "Tell you what, how is this for a topic: THE WORST PLACES FOR BONERS?" "I like THAT topic, go on and ask me something" Sam urged me on, intrigued. I thought for a second and decided to start off with church. "Do I get boners when greeting Mom's friends in church?" "Ouch, now that would be embarrassing. I'm gonna guess TRUE." "Sam, you just earned a point, I get a boner in church all the time, though I can't imagine why. Church is as unsexy as it gets." "Four points, give me another one" Sam pleaded. "OK, how about while making a presentation in front of class, with Mrs. Parkings and pretty well all the kids in class staring at you?" "Oh you poor Howard, TRUE, TRUE!" "Yes true, five points. And how about at the dentist, stretched out on that chair that lifts your ass way up in the air?" "TRUE" answered Sam. "No, you lose a point," said I. "At the dentist is probably the only place where I've never had a boner. Pain must be a powerful anti-dote" "I don't know" countered Sam. "They say love hurts." "Whatever you say, but your score is down to four again" "Come on, give me another question." Well I had saved the best - or rather worst - for last. "How about after graduation, posing with your mother while your Sunday best pants are tenting out?" "NOOOOO!?" shouted Sam, painfully, incredulously. "I mean TRUE, TRUE, it's so bad it must be true, you would never make that up." "Oh it gets even worse" I continued. "That picture is now standing on the mantle, for all the world to see this tent at my crotch, while getting hugged by Mom. I've told mom I hated that picture, but she doesn't understand why and I don't dare to tell her. She says she's proud of me and that the picture is just perfect and I just haven't had the heart or the guts to tell her what's wrong with it. And our visitors are too polite to say anything but I'm sure they must notice it." I had Sam laughing in stitches as I told him about my predicament. He was about to say something but then we heard the banging on the cauldron and quickly got dressed. "Zero-Five" Sam reminded me on our way out the tent. Busker Arts I had signed up for Busker Arts, but to be honest had no idea what that really was. I just figured anything artsie should be up my alley. As it turned out Busker Arts was nothing like what I might have expected. Our instructor explained to us that Busker Artists were street performers, doing things like magic tricks, riding unicycles and juggling. In the short time of summer camp he would not be able to do much more than give us an introduction. Today we would learn to manipulate devil sticks. Basically, you would hit alternate ends of a two foot long stick with tassels at the end, with two other sticks held in your hands. The idea was to keep the stick with tassels aloft without touching it other than with the two other sticks. It looked impossible at first and I kept dropping the tassel stick. My partner Joe did much better, and when asked him how he did it, all he said was "just keep your eyes on the stick". I could feel my face flushing with a red hot blush, as I realized that Joe must have noticed me looking this way and that to catch a view of nearby boys' butts and dicks. About half a dozen boys had shown up in the buff for this activity, their genitals swinging this way and that with the movement of their bodies. After our activity time finished, they scattered in all directions and I was left with Joe. Joe Joe was fourteen like me, but shorter and a little heavier than me. He had deeply tanned skin, black hair, and tended to keep an expressionless face. He had a rather quiet disposition and getting him to start talking, especially about himself, at first felt like extracting teeth, and he would ask nothing of me in return. He would always think before answering, weighing his words. However, once he got started, he would answer in great detail, thoughtfully and honestly, for as far as I could tell. Joe might not be playful like Sam, but he was just as genuine. I asked Joe what he wanted to do in our free time. He seemed open to pretty well anything and I suggested a leisurely walk through the woods. We headed that way and within five minutes there was just the trees and us. Given my budding interest in boners this summer, I wasted no time steering our conversation that way. Skin color below I told Joe that I liked his skin, that I was trying to get tanned myself but that I burn easy. I added that I had seen so many kids go naked here they would be getting a tan all over. "Myself I'm not used to being naked, my ass is white as paper", and I pulled down my trunks on the side just to show him my lily white hips. Joe looked but didn't say anything. Then I asked him, "How about you? Is your skin brown like that all over or are you hiding a white ass under your shorts? " Joe hesitated a second, then dropped his shorts to his feet to look at his brown hips. I was surprised he dropped his shorts this easily. Joe studied his hips and didn't see me studying his dick instead, uncut and completely limp. "Yeah, I guess I'm a LITTLE whiter under my shorts" he observed. "Looks perfectly brown to me" I commented. "How did you get a nice tan like that, do you skinny dip too? Are you a nudist?" Again Joe hesitated a second, leaving me wondering if I was pushing this conversation too much. But then he answered. "Yeah I guess I do skinny dip a lot, and I really don't have any problem with being nude, but I'm not sure if that makes me a nudist. I mean, usually I wear something, even in the summer when it's hot." Well, since Joe had dropped his, I figured I could drop mine too. I took off my Speedos and lined lined up my hips next to Joe's, and the difference was like night and day. "Ha" observed Joe. "Instead of pale faces we should call you pale asses. Your dick looks pretty red though." Sure enough, my dick was already threequarter of the way to a full erection. I could not believe myself at how daring I was getting in exposing that boner. Well, in for a penny, in for a pound. I moved a little to position my boner closer to Joe's dick, to compare colors. "I guess the skin on your dick looks pretty much the same color as the rest of you. I bet the color of your head will be different though." "OK" is all that Joe said. "Is your head red like mine?" I persisted. "Naw" said Joe, and pulled back his foreskin to show. "Darker, kinda purple" I observed, and 'accidently' touched his head with mine as I pushed my head down to compare colors. Finally Joe's dick was starting to rise too. I felt a lot better when I was not the only one with a boner. Joe however, reached down to pull up his trunks, probably figuring that we were done with whatever it was we were doing. Getting Used to It Outdoors "Wait a second" I said, taking a gamble. "You said you didn't have a problem with nudity, and eh, .. well I do. That is, I've never gone skinny dipping before and I'm not used to being naked, and gosh, well I get a hard-on every time that I pull down my pants and eh.. well I want to be like everybody else here and be able to go skinny dipping and even just walk around without trunks and not get a hard-on every time, and well, you know, just get used to it, I guess. So any how, since you don't have any problem with nudity would you mind if we, if we uh, would you mind if I practiced with you, you know, getting used to not wearing anything? Joe had straightened out again leaving his trunks around his ankles for the time being, and just stared me in the face, trying to make sense of that verbal outburst of mine. As for me, I was sure my face must have been beet red again, having talked too much with my feet in my mouth again and not knowing how Joe would react to all that. "What do you want?" he asked me simply. OK Howard, put this in simple language, I told myself. Only that was hard to do because I didn't know myself exactly what I wanted. I started with something simple. "I want to get used to being naked outdoors. Would it bother you if I keep my Speedos off while we're in the woods?" "No, that wouldn't bother me" answered Joe. "But did you ask me to be naked too?" This was awkward. "No" I started. "I am not asking for you to be naked, that's up to you. Although maybe that WOULD make it easier for me, since like, you're used to it and everything, and I'm not" Gosh, why was I always putting my feet in my mouth? But to my relief Joe just shrugged his shoulders, kicked his trunks off his feet and pulled off his T-shirt. I took off my shoulder pad. Joe started walking down our little path again, and I ran behind him, Speedos and shoulder pad in hand. Joe turned down a narrow side path, maybe to keep us from walking side by side and staring at each other's dicks. This way probably was a better way of getting used to nudity. I was happy with the arrangement, and wanted to talk more with Joe. Joe's Extended Family "Hey Joe" I shouted after him after. "You still haven't told me how you got that perfect tan on your butt." But Joe was not one to shout so he stopped and turned around to face me. "I was born this way" he said quietly. My mom is half Native American, half Spanish, and my dad is from Mexico." "Cool" I said. "I believe I'm a mixture of Dutch and Gaelic and Scottish myself, but I'm not exactly sure which grandparent is which. Is your dad American now?" "Yes, he has American citizenship, but he works outside of the country, as geologist, mostly in Saudi Arabia." "Do you see much of him?" "He comes home three or four times a year." "Do you miss him?" "I don't know. I'm used to him being gone. It's cool when he comes home though. He often takes Mom and me on vacation somewhere, like Disney or Vegas or on a cruise ship." "Sounds nice, you guys must be pretty rich." "I don't know, my dad is doing OK." "What's your mom do?" "Mom doesn't work, I mean not like a career. Mostly she just takes care of the house and me and my cousins, together with my aunt Maria." "You got any brothers and sisters?" "No." "Me neither, it's just me and my Mom live in our apartment. But your aunt and cousins live with you?" "Yeah, so does my grandma and uncle Morley. My grandpa is dead." "Sorry, what does your uncle do?" "He sits on the council, goes to lots of meetings and stuff." "How many cousins are living with you?" "Four." "Boys, girls, how old are they?" "Two each, Abe is 13, Meg is 11, Hannah is 9 and little Casey is only 6." Joe's Sleeping Arrangements "How do you all fit in one house? " "Oh we got a big house, four bedrooms, one for Mom and Grandma, one for my aunt and uncle, one for the girls and one for the boys. When dad comes home Grandma moves in with one of my other aunts." "So you, Abe and whats-his-name, little something, all fit in one bedroom?" "We have a bunk bed in our room, twin on top and double on the bottom. The twin on top was supposed to be mine, but little Casey still wets the bed so he sleeps by himself on top, while Abe and me share the double on the bottom - except if Abe or me have friends sleeping over, then the other guy has to double up with Casey at the top." "So you sleep with your cousin Abe on most nights, what age was he again?" "Abe is 13, one year younger than me." "What's your bedtime?" "Whenever we want to, not like here where they tell you all the time what to do and when to do it -it's almost as bad as school." "Hope you don't mind me asking, but with you being used to nudity and all, do you wear anything in bed?" Joe pulled a quizzical face, as if that was a weird question to be asked. "Forget it" I say. "I ask too many questions, why don't you ask me something for a change?" "No, its alright. It's just that you've got the wrong idea about us being nudists, we're not. We just don't like getting our clothes wet in the water, just like I'm sure you don't wear clothes in the bathtub or shower either. We don't make a big fuss about nudity, especially not with kids. Casey still runs around naked in the house sometimes, but not me and Abe. Usually we take off our underwear and put on pajamas in bed. Only when its really hot in the summer we throw back the covers and wear nothing at all. We don't have air conditioning. Still most of the time it's pajamas in bed." I admired Joe. He had no problem answering whatever question I threw at him. I had wanted to spend more time with him, but it was time for me to head back to the kitchen for supper, and Joe was supposed to regroup at his camp site. We traced our way back, and when we got to the edge of the wood we put our clothes back on. Still Can't Pee After we ate and got back to Clearwater we had some free time and first thing Sam did was take me into the woods with him for his leak. As usual, I just couldn't pee while Sam was there. "This really sucks I can't pee with you and I'm not allowed to pee without you," I told Sam. "Just go ahead on your own. I'll wait for you right here" Sam offered. So I walked off a little ways by myself and finally was able to piss. I told myself it was just a shy bladder, it didn't mean anything. When I got back to Sam he said Harry and Bert had walked by and caught him without his buddy, but they had promised not to tell on us. "I'm glad it wasn't Frankie, that guy would have told on us for sure" I said. "Probably" Sam admitted, and added that maybe I should practice more trying to get used to him. Back in our tent he asked me about my activity buddy and I told Sam that he was part Indian and living on a reserve. "So why would he want to come here?' Sam wondered. "I'll ask him next time" I promised. Stroked by Sam After campfire we got naked under the covers again. It had become a routine, as much as our boner guessing game. "I guess that you have a boner, Sam," I said to Sam. "Do I get a brownie point?" "Not really" answered Sam, grabbing my hand and brushing it against his soft crotch for a second. Sam was too fast for me to really tell what state he was in, so I returned my hand grabbing his dick and determined that it was definitely on the rise. It was really fascinating to feel it grow in my fist. I loosened my hold, letting Sam's dick expand, but intended to keep my hand there until I had proven Sam had a full-blown boner. "Now I get a brownie point" I claimed as Sam's shaft inflated to completion in my hand. "Only if I get a brownie point too." replied Sam. "You gotta earn it first." I retorted, trying to keep my mind only on our guessing game, but it was racing somewhere else. Sam's skin, it felt so loose over his rock hard shaft. Don't ask me why, but I hadn't pulled my hand back just yet. I was fascinated and Sam, well, he acted like he didn't even notice where my hand was. He too kept the conversation on our guessing game only. "Sure I can earn my point. I bet that you've got a boner too" and with that Sam brushed his hand over my groin and grabs my boner in turn. I could feel my heart bouncing in my chest now. "One-Six" Sam concluded, and his grip on my boner tightened a little. "Alright" I admitted, trying to keep focussed on our game. "But now you gotta give me a chance to catch up." "What do you want to guess?" asked Sam, as his firm grip on my boner slowly relaxed. My own hand remained motionless. Focus on the game, I told myself. But why couldn't I think of any guesses? I had to buy time, just started talking before knowing where I was going with this. "I don't know. Just ask me a True or False question. About you and, and anybody. How about your brother, or your cousin Willie, or some other cousin, or your friends. Do you have any friends? Well of course you do, I didn't mean it to sound like you wouldn't. Who's your BEST friend back home?" As I was blurting this out, Sam had slowly been tightening his grip on my boner again, and then relaxing, starting some kind of slow rhythm. He answered me in a casual voice, his hand all the while not missing a beat. "Well that would be Fletch. I've known him forever. We live in the same apartment building and we go to school together." "OK then, I'm guessing that you have had sleep-overs with Fletch." My voice came out as a squeak. I tried to sound natural, tried not to get distracted by the pulsing of Sam's hand, tried to pretend it was not even there. "That's true, Fletch is an only child like you. He's got a double bed all to himself and on Friday nights I usually sleep over." Somehow Sam managed to maintain his calm conversational tone, all the while keeping up his rhythm of his grip on my boner, gradually tightening his grip a little more with every squeeze. "Then it's Two - Six" I said, feeling like I might be on to something with this Fletch, while my hand slowly traveled up his shaft until it held his circumcised head, mushrooming soft and big. Sam didn't even budge. Myself, I would have jumped had anybody touched the hypersensitive head of my uncut dick. "Can I uh, uh, can I make more guesses?" I asked. "Knock yourself out." replied Sam, sounding very nonchalant, still keeping up the rhythm of his hand squeezing and releasing his grip on my boner. "OK, I'm guessing that you have seen Fletch naked, stark naked." "Well thuh!" replied Sam, and stopped the rhythm of his hand, now holding my boner in a continuous squeeze. My heart sped up, but I kept my mind focussed on the game. "So I'm right? When did you see him naked? No don't tell me, let me guess. The score is Three - Six already. I'm starting to catch up now. Gosh it's hot in here." I think we had both started to sweat. Sam released me to throw back the covers and I lost my grip on his boner too. I lifted my head for a second to find it again, then laid back and closed my eyes again. The game, we were just playing a game, and I had to catch up. I was on a roll, and thought of another guess. I'm guessing you have seen Fletch naked when you guys change to go to bed. Is that right?" "Sure." said Sam, now facing me and his hand finding my stiffie again. "OK, score is Four - Six. Let me guess some more." I was intrigued about Sam's sleep-overs at Fletch, and wanted to know how far they had gone together. "I guess that sometimes you guys sleep without any bottoms." Again my voice came out squeaky high, even as my thumb was rubbing over the tip of Sam's mushroom. "Heck, I've already told you that I always sleep without any bottoms, in my nightshirt." Sam protested. "Yeah, but sleep-overs are different." "No they're not. I don't even OWN any pajama bottoms any more. You don't get any points for guessing that. Score is still Four - Six." Sam gave my shaft an extra hard squeeze just to emphasize his point. "Ouch, OK, OK, but doesn't FLETCH own any pajama bottoms? I'm guessing that HE is sleeping bottomless too when you sleep over." "Alright, you're right" Sam conceded. "You can have your brownie point." With that he slowly started the pulsation of his hand again, tightening and loosening his grip. "FIVE - Six" I emphasized, now squeezing Sam's mushroom to bring home my point. Sam replied nothing, his hand just keeping up the rhythm. I got this weird disembodied feeling that it wasn't really Sam's hand on my boner, and not really my hand on Sam's, but some other, impersonal, mechanical device. Us boys, we were just playing a guessing game, purely non-physical. Stalling for time, I added "Now wait, I'm gonna guess some more. I'm guessing that you guys have seen each other's boners." "OK" Sam grumbled without losing a beat on his stroking. "We're even." " And I guess that you guys have TOUCHED each other's boners" I can't believe this was my voice, so high pitched. "OK." "Seven - Six, I'm winning!" I told Sam. This was too easy. Sam was admitting everything. So I took a deep plunge and blurted out "I guess that you guys have jacked off together!" "You're getting pretty personal here," Sam warned, and sped up his rhythm. "Am I right, or am I right?" I asked, now grabbing Sam shaft, holding it firmly. "Yup," Sam admitted. "EIGHT points! And I guess you've seen each other cum." "Forget, I'm not giving you any more points. Of course you cum when you jack. That's not a guess, that's obvious. Anyway, you've been milking this topic for way too many points already." So the guessing game was over, but Sam was the one starting to milk me, his hand now holding my shaft in a continuous firm grip, and starting a slow up and down motion. "Wait!" I said, but it came out in a constricted squeak, inaudible. I pulled my hand off Sam's boner. So Sam had jacked off with somebody else before, interesting. But not me, this was new for me. I wasn't sure if I should participate in this, if I was ready for this. But I was speechless, only heard myself softly moaning. And then, suddenly, I had this heightenend awareness. My dick, it has a texture, I can feel it now that it is harder than ever before. The texture, it is somewhat knobby, like corn on the cob, and with every stroke Sam's sweaty hand ripples over my knobs, sending waves of sensation through each one of them. The two of us are connected at this incredibly sensuous interface. There's only my dick and I can think of nothing else and nothing else matters as I am left groaning and breathing heavy, totally absorbed in the sensations rippling over my dick, not wanting it to stop, not ever, with my hips arching high under the mounting tension, the intensified sensation and pressure build up by Sam's relentless pumping. Then Sam's other hand engulfs my moist exposed head. BANG!!! The trigger is pulled. All of me explodes like a canon shot, my groin, my face, my whole universe. Liquid gushes out. I spasm, more intense than anything in my former life. Another squirt, and then another. My arching hips collapse. Suddenly my exposed head becomes supersensitive, Sam's grip on it painful even. He has stopped pumping. I push back his hands, slimy wet. It had all happened so fast, it was over before I knew it. Sam got up on his knees, lifted his end of the towel, wiped his hand, then carefully wiped my tummy first, then my dick. The dry fibers of the towel felt rough and coarse as he dabbed my head. Somehow Sam knew what to do. He pushed my foreskin back over my hypersensitive tip, safely shielding it. I just let him do whatever he was doing, semi-comatose myself. Some nagging voice in the back of my head told me this was wrong, not to do it again. I was too tired to argue about it with myself, still I had to ask Sam: "Sam?" "Yes, buddy?" Sam answered gently while he finished wiping up. "Do you think the other buddies jerk off in their tent together?" Sam just laughed, answering with the question "Do bears shit in the woods?" That's the last thing I remember before falling asleep. ----------- email me at peerkano@checkjemail.nl