Date: Sat, 10 Oct 2020 13:59:46 +0000 From: Strange writer Subject: Days of my Youth Hi readers. I have been away from submitting stories for awhile, but I have been writing. Trying not to do what I've done in the past, start a series then run out of steam several parts in, I''m trying to have any series that I submit be finished. This is a much different story than what I usually post. It basically is a story from my own youth with embellishment. As with all of my stories, the following is fiction and a figment of my imagination, except for the parts that are true. If there is any reason that you can't or shouldn't read it, please don't. Otherwise, I hope that it's mildly entertaining. You can reach me at strangestorywriter@protonmail.com with anything that you'd like to talk about. I still reply to everyone. Lastly, if you enjoy the Nifty archive as much as I do, please consider donating to keep it alive and thriving at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html. If you like my writing, you can find my other series on the author's page under Strange Writer. The following is most likely a one chapter story, all of the best to you and enjoy the adventures of Greg and Charlie: 1 It was the summer before 8th grade. I was 13 years old, with a September birthday, so I was one of the oldest kids in my grade, on the cusp of turning 14 before most of my classmates. This was a good thing for me because I was a little slower to mature than my friends, so being older made me look the same as the other boys, both in height and weight and stage of puberty. My name is Greg Kirk. This was in the early 80s, so there was very little information for kids about sex. I don't know if I was alone, but there was much more self-discovery going on than there was passed-on information. My parents didn't mention sex until, well, ever. Their one attempt at sex-ed was to buy a "Life Cycle" series of books and leave them on the bookshelf without explanation. Of course I flipped through them, but my main memory is the large amount of watery semen that I spilled staring at the illustration of an adolescent toweling off after a shower. His plump but still-childlike genitals were topped with a tuft of pubic hair, thicker than my own, but covering the same tiny area, an image burned into my memory. Interestingly enough, despite the tingling feeling that the photo gave me, it never occurred to me that I was attracted to boys. Being gay was some sort of practical joke that didn't happen in real life. You simply weren't gay, nobody was. Any feelings that leaned that way went unacknowledged, because real people didn't act on those feelings. My main activity in those days was swimming. Since I was eight years old I had come to the pool several nights a week for practice. During that time I had come to love the sight of the other boys little penises and, even better, the grown men who were sometimes in there changing after some sort of old person's swimming session that ended just before ours. Their seemingly giant, hanging cocks over their long loose ballsacks were an endless source of fascination. When I was about ten I remember wondering how the tiny little stub that was too short to even hang between my legs would ever turn into one of those bulbous-headed monsters. In those days we hung out a lot with the kids in our neighborhood. Even though we had school friends, and we did get together, most of our socializing was done in a couple of block radius. That is how we ended up with a several year age range in our small group. For example, my best friend was a boy named Johnny who lived across the street. He was only 11 at the time, but we got along great and were almost always together. When we called to ask if the other wanted to get together we would jokingly ask if the other wanted to "play", since we'd been saying that since we were little. The two of us lead the group of kids that hung out together in our neighborhood. This included David, who also lived across the street but several doors down from Johnny. He was 12, so split the difference between us. There were a couple of girls that frequently hung out if it was a large group, some younger kids who occasionally hung out, but the three of us were the most consistent friends. Being the oldest, I was also the first to have raging hormones, so it was me that first started steering conversations to sex. Luckily for me, Johnny had older brothers, so he quickly became a source of information, some accurate, some not, and eventually a source of porn in the form of dirty magazines. The best of these was a Hustler that his brother had procured. In it, there was a graphic pictorial of a couple having sex. While David and Johnny sat giggling and pointing at the woman's vagina and breasts, I was fixated on the man's massive erection. This was the only erect penis, other than my own, that I had ever seen, and the size and girth of it were shocking. Again, I assumed that the other boy's felt the same butterflies of excitement when they stared at the massive manhood, and that the feelings that I was experiencing were perfectly straight and normal. So this is where my mind was when I first met Charlie. He first appeared in my life as the new kid on the swim team. Even though he was 12 and more than a year younger than me, he was very fast, and therefore was in my practice group, since the groups were based on ability instead of age. He was well liked by the other kids his age that he had obviously met through school, but most of them were in the slower groups. In our group he was tolerated at best. Of course it was only jealousy, none of us liked a younger kid showing us up, we weren't mean in a bullying way, but we weren't friendly either. The first time that I remember him speaking to me was when he offered me some advice as I swam to the end of the lane. "You're breathing late," he told me, "you need to start your breath earlier." I was stunned that this little shit thought that he could give me advice, who did he think that he was? "I've got a coach," I answered sarcastically. "Sorry, on my old team we'd give each other advice," he told me defensively. "Humph," was my only reply. Then it was time to start again, Charlie going first, of course. "What a jerk," I thought as I pushed off of the wall. Then did my best not to stew. It didn't help that after practice my friends kidded me about it. Interestingly, Charlie had decided that day to change near his swim group, us, and not his friends. Again, this didn't make me super happy, and he was trying way too hard to fit in with us, laughing at our screwing around like he was part of it all. It was completely irritating. The only saving grace was that he, like almost any boy who grew up swimming competitively, was unafraid to be naked in front of everyone. Of course I did my best not to get caught looking, but that didn't stop me from catching enough of a glance as he lowered his speedo to see his hairless, skinny two inch penis and scrotum. Not trying to stare, my glance ran quickly back up his fit little body to his face. Then he turned my way and gave a friendly smile. I returned it with a sneer. All of this was forgotten the next day, as Johnny and I were hanging out at my house, when my mom called from downstairs. "Yeah?" I shouted. "Do you know a Charlie on the swim team?" she called loudly, "A new kid?" I got up and opened my door to better hear her, "Yeah, why?" "I met his mom at the PTA meeting. Apparently, they are new to the neighborhood, but he lives right over on Blackhawk, and his mom wanted to know if we could carpool. So you'll be going with them to practice tonight," she explained. I didn't answer, just went back into my room and sulked. "What's wrong?" Johnny asked. "I just don't really like that kid," and I explained how he was getting into our conversations and the whole advice thing. "So basically you don't like him because he's faster than you," he calculated, not being a good friend in my mind and piling on. "No," I said stubbornly, "he's just a little shit." "Ok, cool," was all that he said, the matter closed. 2 That night Charlie's mom drove us to practice. She drove a Mercedes station wagon, which was kind of rare in those days, so I sensed more than knew that they had money. "Hi, Greg," she said as I opened the door, "I'm Mrs. Garvey." "It nice to meet you," I said as I sat down in the back seat. Charlie sat opposite to me and gave me a smile that I half-heartedly returned. "Hi," he said. "Hey," I replied, not even looking his way. It was quiet for a couple of minutes, but I could sense him looking my way a few times, until finally he broke the silence, "I'm sorry about yesterday," he said quietly, maybe hoping that his mom wouldn't hear, "and I'm sorry that the other guys gave you a hard time," he continued. I wanted to say, "Shut the fuck up," but didn't figure that would go over very well with his mom, having just met and all. Instead I just looked at him blankly as he looked at me hopefully, wishing for an acceptance of his apology. "I was just trying to be helpful, I uh...," he paused, "it's hard being new," he finally finished. Perfect, now I was the jerk and I knew it, "I'm sorry," I mumbled, "I should have known that, I'm not usually like that," which was true, I normally got along with people. I wasn't exactly a strong personality. If we were adults, this would have continued with an explicit acknowledgment of the problem, promises not to do it again etc. But not a couple of junior high kids, we didn't say another word about it, and carried on a conversation like any two kids who have just met. I'm not sure what the other kids thought when the two of us came into the locker room chatting away, and proceeded to act like old buddies, but no one mentioned anything, and Charlie was almost immediately treated as an equal. The cool part about it was that he was a great kid; funny, smart, tough if he needed to be, so he was nice to have around. We even started to hang out a bit at home. He and Johnny were the same age, even though they didn't go to the same school because Johnny went to a catholic school, and they easily found common ground when he started to spend more time in our neighborhood. He even joined us for a group sleepover at my house. It was all four of us, Charlie, David, Johnny and me. When we slept over at my house we always slept in the basement, which was partially carpeted and was where we spent most of our hangout time. We had a pullout couch for two of us. The other two in sleeping bags on the floor. It was assumed that as the host I would get the bed, the others played rock, paper, scissors to decide my bedmate. I was pleased when Charlie won because he was the new guy. For whatever reason, whenever we had these sleepovers we would just sleep in our underwear. This was not my norm, and I doubted that it was for the others, but we always talked about, "We're all boys," and pretended like we were too old for pajamas. Putting myself in Charlie's place, I figured that he had probably packed a set of pjs, so I made a show or talking about the fact that none of us wore them anymore, and I hoped that he didn't mind if we slept in our undies, which in those days meant jockey or fruit of the loom white briefs. So maybe everyone else felt it, but at least for me sleepovers were a tingly delight. Seeing my friends barely dressed, making a big deal about bodily function, especially the multiple trips to the bathroom after drinking soda all night. Since it was still summer, none of us had bought "school clothes" yet, so our undies were a year old and either super tight or stretched out and gaping open at the legs. Either way I got a treat, a prominently displayed package and tight butt, or a side ballsack sighting. Quite a treat in my mind. One of the fixtures of these nights was each of us trying to turn the others on. We were all curious about sex, and loved to make up stories that produced the announcement of, "Wow, that really gave me a boner." Almost every time when it was my turn, I would start telling a story that seemed to be leading toward some kind of gay encounter, with Johnny and David beside themselves with feigned disgust, until I provided the twist that it was actually a girl dressed as a man. Charlie was silent through it all, and was given a storytelling reprieve, so that he could see what it was all about. When we were finally ready to settle down, we all made trips to the bathroom to pee and brush our teeth. There was a line, with Johnny having finished, David inside and Charlie and I standing outside the door. I looked over at him, standing there in his t-shirt and undies and he smiled up at me somewhat shyly. "Are you having a good time?" I asked him. "Oh yeah," he answered enthusiastically, "I'm having a great time, especially the stories." I laughed at his confession, "Did they give you a boner?" I asked him with a chuckle, trying to keep things light. "Your's did," he answered cryptically, "you're very creative," he finished. "Thanks," I answered, "I'm glad that you liked it," "Do you still have one?" he whispered. I had in fact wilted since then, but this conversation wasn't boding well for that to continue. "No," I answered honestly, but as soon as I said it, I could feel pressure as my penis slowly began to inflate, pushing against my tight undies. Just then the door opened and it was Charlie's turn. He scooted in the door, David passed me by without notice, and I was able to get a good look at Charlie's front as he closed the door, and was pretty sure that I saw the ridge of a hard boy cock running up the fly of his undies before he disappeared from sight. I didn't sleep well that night, but Charlie did, his soft deep breathing sounding so relaxing in the cool basement. In the dim light I could make out his face as he lay on his pillow, his body turned toward me. We shared a set of covers, and for the first time I realized that I wanted to reach out and touch his lips, take him into a warm hug, and run my hand over his tight buttocks. Laying there in the silence, the only sound the breathing of my friends in their sleep, I reached down and slid my underwear down enough to free my erection in front and down below my butt in back. As quietly and as gently as I could manage, I began to stroke my small cock, staring at the cute boy for inspiration and for fear of waking him. Masturbation was not new to me, as a matter of fact, like almost every 13 year old I assume, I was already somewhat of an expert. Adept at taking care of the act quickly and quietly if needed, skilled at finding secret locations to hide my activities, and mostly, never admitting it to anyone, because to touch a cock, even your own, was considered "gay". Usually my stroking was based around something vaguely sexual, a nude girl, a naked boy, porn from Johnny's brother, even a dirty talk or drawing could set off my hair trigger erections and meager output. Tonight, all I needed was the younger boy laying next to me, his lips parted as he breathed, the sheet slowly rising and falling with each intake. There weren't any further fantasies than that, just being close to him was making me hard in a way that skipped right passed my conscious mind. I masturbated in long, firm, deliberate strokes to avoid shaking the bed, and was quickly close to orgasm. I'd never in my life considered doing something like this, but my horniness was clouding my judgement, and without too much consideration, I gently lifted the sheet with my free hand, and the light was such that I got a clear view of Charlie's soft, cock under the thick doubled fabric of the front of his underwear. In my mind I imagined myself reaching down and gently handling that little package, sampling its mushy texture and maybe using my thumb to pull down his waistband and tuck it under his young scrotum. That was it, I had to literally bite my lower lip to keep myself quiet as my climax overcame me, the feeling shooting through me in an instant, and I dropped the sheet so that I could pull the front of my underwear out and aim my cock inside the front of the thin material as it started to convulse, my thin but opaque offering shot forth in two short spurts followed by an ooze of semen into my shorts. As I came I had lost all touch with my surroundings, so that when the last spasm hit me I returned to the present and realized that I could have been making any manner of noises during my orgasm. Now I listened carefully for any sounds of movement or restlessness but heard none, the only sound remained the slow breathing of my friends. At that age, I had a rather dumb belief that dried up cum wasn't detected when sorting laundry, so I pulled my underwear and let it snap into place over my wilting penis, the cooling ooze of my small load running around my package. At that age, every orgasm was followed by guilt, I don't even know why. My parents weren't bible thumpers or anything, and even though we never talked about sex, there was never talk of forbidding self-abuse. I'm sure that it was somehow tied to the worry that the act was gay. I was unable to process the fact that the act wasn't gay, but the inspiration undoubtedly was. Speaking of which, as I rolled over to finally doze off, I felt movement on the bed and looked over and saw Charlie also roll over. I was smiling at the thought that my jerking may have disturbed him enough to gain consciousness. The next morning, everything returned to normal, and we were the same goofballs as we devoured our pancakes and bacon. 3 Johnny was Catholic, but David, Charlie and I were all Presbyterian. David's mom was really involved at the church, and had forced David to join the youth group, which meant that I had to join. It was actually fun, and a surprisingly fertile source of shenanigans. I had my first sip of alcohol at a camping retreat, and there was always lots of interacting between the boys and girls. More than one of my friends had their first kiss or first feel at a church event or sleepover. So David and I usually went to youth group together on Sunday evenings and then to special events periodically on other days. It just so happened that a couple of weeks after the sleepover at my house the youth group had an all-night retreat at the church. These were supposed to be about religion, but usually became a loosely supervised good time as the night wore on. We convinced Charlie to join the group and come to the retreat. He was reluctant to start at an event when he didn't know anyone, but we assured him that he'd be ok and that there would be other new kids. These retreats were frequently used by the youth minister to recruit people to join, so new kids were common. He agreed as long as I promised not to abandon him. The retreat was Friday night, so Charlie and I had swim practice beforehand, and it was arranged for David and his mom to swing by the pool and pick us up, then she'd drop us at the church. We tried to comb our hair a little to look presentable after swimming, then we headed out. When we got to the parking lot, our ride wasn't there yet, so we sat down on the curb and waited. "David said that he was going to go to second base with Susie tonight," Charlie told me. I laughed out loud, "In his dreams maybe!" We sat in silence for a few seconds when Charlie finally said, "Greg?" "Yeah?" "What does second base mean?" I chuckled, but understood, "It means feeling her up, under her shirt," I explained, "it's a whole thing, first is kissing, second is under her shirt, third is down her pants and a home run is doing it." Charlie's eyes got big and he quietly said, "Wow, I thought that there was a ball field behind the church." I tried not to laugh at him, "I understand, it doesn't make much sense," I told him. David's bravado didn't surprise me, he had started to be really aggressive about girls and they seemed to fall for him. Girls were extremely confusing to me because of this sort of thing. They flocked to a kid like David who treated them like garbage, but ignored boys that treated them well. For some reason my head started hurting while we were sitting there and I told Charlie about it. "Can I show you something that may feel better?" he asked me. "Ok," I answered, not really understanding what he meant. Charlie stood up and knelt down behind me, then I felt him touch the side of my head, "I'm going to rub your temples," he explained, "it makes me feel better if my head hurts." He pressed his index fingers gently against my temples and started to rub in little circles, while his other fingers spread out and touched my head and cheeks. It felt really good and really relaxing. My spine was tingling a little, and I didn't want him to ever stop. "How does that feel?" he asked me softly. "It really feels nice," I answered honestly in a very soft voice. "Good," he said with a lift in his voice. Just then the sound of a car and some headlights came around the corner, so Charlie dropped his hands and stood up, grabbing his swim bag as the car approached. "Feel any better?" he asked. Surprisingly the massage had helped, "I really do," I told him. "Good," he repeated with a smile, "me too." I assumed that he meant that it helps him when he has a headache, not that it felt good for him rub my temples. When David and his mom pulled up we jumped in, David and I sitting in the "way back" of their fake wood sided station wagon. Charlie, as the "new kid" still, sat alone in the middle row, "What were you homos doing down on the ground?" he said in greeting me, quiet enough that his mom didn't hear. "Nothing," I answered, for some reason not wanting to admit that Charlie had been touching me, and knowing that David was really kidding, making a joke out of something that was different. David and his mom brought our sleeping bags that we'd dropped off earlier in the day, so when we arrived we gathered our belongings and went into the church. At these events we had to endure some religious preaching, some team building, and some attempts at counseling the tweens and early teens present. After that it was a free-for-all. The youth minister was way too trusting, so he would disappear and leave all of the kids to their own devises. Some of the kids snuck off to all corners of the building, while others, including me and some of my friends, hung out on the big common room playing music and board games. It was almost 10 when I realized that I hadn't seen Charlie in hours. I asked around and no one had seen him until finally a girl named Charlotte said that she saw him in the balcony by himself. The balcony was a room that ran the length of the sanctuary and had a series of openings that looked down into the church. It was used for overflow on Christmas, the people near the edge seeing things live while those in the rest of the room had to watch it on tv. Knowing his probable location, I set out in search of him, feeling pretty bad for ignoring him when I'd promised not to. When I got to the dim balcony, I could easily make out a figure at the very end looking down into the church. Their size and shape could definitely be Charlie, so I headed that way. Sure enough, he turned when he heard my footsteps and it was him. When he recognized me, he gave me a pouty look and turned back to his observations. "I'm sorry that I lost track of you, man," I started, but Charlie shushed me, pointing down into the church. I walked into the narrow space next to him and peered over the wooden railing. It wasn't until I looked down that I realized that I was hearing the faint sound of muffled moaning. I could see something in one of the pews, but it took me a second to recognize what I was seeing. Bunched up against the back of the pew in order to keep from falling off were two figures laying facing each other on their sides. I glanced over at Charlie, who was close enough in the small space that it was impossible to for us not to touch each other, and saw that he was watching me. "David, third base," he said, pointing down at the figures. I refocused below, realizing that I was hearing smacking sounds as the two figures made out, and saw that the front person had their hand running awkwardly down the front of their body, and finally saw that the reason was that they had their hand inside the others pants. The girl had a leg raised and her jeans open and slightly lowered to give David room. I was stunned that Susie would do that so easily, but then recognized the girl, Amy, who was in my grade! "So much for Susie," I whispered to Charlie who nodded. When I looked back, the two of them were sitting up, and Amy was sliding down onto the ground. David was fumbling with the buttons on his pants as she moved between his legs. "No way," I whispered to Charlie. "No way," he repeated, almost in a trance. Downstairs, David had opened his pants, his fruit of the looms shining through the opening, even in the low light. Amy helped him to shimmy his pants lower, and suddenly his little boner popped out. I was completely stunned when Amy dipped down and appeared to suck him right between her lips, causing David to throw his head back. "Oh my god, she's sucking his dick, what base is that?" Charlie whispered with shock in his voice. "That's a grand fucking slam," I answered in awe. We watched in silence as Amy went to town on David's pre-teen penis, David was the one moaning this time. "I can't believe that fucker is getting a blowjob," I hissed. "It's awesome," Charlie whispered back absently. I sensed movement next to me, and looked over, catching Charlie rubbing his flattened fingers up and down over the front of his shorts. I looked down at my own crotch, and realized that I too was hard as a rock. "I'd love to get my dick sucked," he added. Below us, the inexperienced boy wasn't going to last long, as he started grunting and trying to push up into Amy's mouth, "Oh, oh," he cried softly, then slid out of her mouth and started jerking himself. I could barely hear him whisper, "here it comes, I'm gonna go," and immediately when he stopped talking, his whole body started to twitch, almost comically convulsing with the strength of his orgasm. This lasted for several seconds before he finally slumped back down. When it was all over, he looked down and moved his cock back and forth, I had no idea if he shot yet. From the looks of it, there wasn't anything to deal with, since he just pulled his pants up, any wetness would have to be soaked up by his undies. "I wonder if he jizzes," I whispered. "I don't think so," he answered, "he's got a little dick." When David had buttoned back up, Amy stood up and did a jump in place to pull her pants back up. The whole thing was over, David of course not giving a damn about the girl getting off. What surprised me again was when Amy leant over and started kissing David again. "Do you think that he can taste his own dick?" Charlie asked, "I wonder what that's like." This statement struck me as very odd, and I turned to look at him. We were both leaned forward looking over the balcony, so when I moved my head I was looking at his cheek and was only inches away from him. Charlie must have sensed me looking because he turned his head toward me and we stared at each other, our faces so close that I could feel his sweet breath. We stayed like that for several seconds, my heart felt like it would pound out of my chest, and any sound of others making out began to disappear as the sound of my own heart and the sound of his sweet smelling breath were the only things that I heard. I didn't know what was happening to me, and I couldn't even acknowledge what I wanted in that moment, that is, until Charlie took his hand and gently stroked along my cheek. The tingle from before, when Charlie had first touched me outside of swim practice, returned with a vengeance, as the warm, electric feeling shot through me and I finally felt rather than thought what I wanted. Like Charlie, I took my hand and brought it to his cheek, and caressed the baby smooth skin there until I continued to he chin, and with my hand holding him there, I closed my eyes, leaned in, and, for the first time in my life, I kissed another boy. It was not passionate, it wasn't long, but it was the sweetest thing that I had ever tasted. Our mouths were closed, only our lips touched, and we only held it for a second before I pulled away slightly with a quick gasp and opened my eyes. Charlie hadn't moved, it was as if he was still being kissed, his eyes closed and chin held slightly upward. Then he opened his eyes and blinked several times, a confused and concerned look on his face that I'm sure that I was mimicking. We stared at each other for several moments, eyes wide and unsure. I suddenly became aware of my surroundings as the world external to Charlie and I began to come into focus and a huge sense of guilt came over me. Charlie ran the back of his hand across his lips, subconsciously wiping the kiss away while he never broke eye contact with his wide open gaze. Finally I stammered, "I, I, I, I'm sorry, I don't know why I did that." Charlie was silent, and I felt terror and a rock in the pit of my stomach at the thought of anyone knowing. Would he tell anyone? Fight or flight hit me, and I chose the cowardly path, jumping to my feet, and turning away to make my escape. When I had made it about ten feet, I heard his little voice, "It's ok," he said, but I didn't stop, I hurried out of the balcony and ran to the first floor and into a secluded bathroom. I don't know if it was because I was so worried about what had happened, or the culmination of years of misplaced sexual energy, but as soon as I locked the stall door the tears came, and they wouldn't stop. I'm not a cryer, but I had lost all control. Now I knew, knew that I wasn't like the others, knew that they weren't like me. I had kidded myself forever, I was the worst thing ever, I was a fag. I was in there for awhile, until finally the main door swung open. "Who's in here?" came the familiar voice of Jimmy, a fellow incoming eighth grader. "It's me, Greg," I said, careful not to sound like I had been bawling. "You jerking off in there? Why the hell are you way down here?" "My stomachs bothering me," I only half lied, considering that it was tied in knots, "so I wanted some privacy, in case something foul came out." The sound of piss hitting a urinal started and Jimmy said, "Well, when you're done shitting, Kayla snuck in some vodka again, were drinking it down in the choir room. I'm fucking blitzed!" That explained why he had come to this bathroom, it was the closest to choir. The liquor must have negated any additional curiosity from Jimmy about why I was here. "Cool, just give me a few minutes," I said, hearing the toilet flush and the faucet start. "See you there," he said, then I heard the door open, and he must have walked right into it because I heard a thump and he groaned, "Aw, fuck that hurt," and then the door closed and I heard his footsteps retreating. My drunken friend had actually put a smile on my face, and I realized that I shouldn't feel sorry for myself, I was being a wimp. And I couldn't hide here forever. So I finally took a piss, washed my hands and checked myself in the mirror. My eyes were a little puffy and very slightly red, but nothing worse than if I had been really tired, a reasonable excuse since it was after 11. I looked back and forth at the empty hallway. If I went right, I'd get to the choir room, left and I'd be back in the common room where everyone was dancing, and where Charlie most likely was. I chose the liquor. Even though I was very young for the concept to resonate with me, I knew that I could really use a drink. There were only a few kids when I got there, all eight graders and freshman. Amy was there, and I couldn't believe that I was looking at someone who I'd just watched sucking my friend's dick. Now David was nowhere to be found and she was making out with a freshman. I laughed a little thinking, "How does seventh grade dick taste?" as they sucked on each other's tongues. Someone had grabbed a 2 liter of coke and they were using that to mix with the vodka. I hated the taste, but I wanted the feeling, so I choked it down. Each sip made me feel better and I became less self-conscious, even getting up to dance when they turned on music. All of my problems seemed to have gone away, and in my stupor, I decided to head down to the main party, not worried anymore about running into Charlie. When I stumbled into the dark common room, I could make out lots of figures dancing, and in the corners recognized the form of kids making out. There was a table with snacks and i spied David and Charlie there. I unsteadily crossed the room to them, letting out a slurred, "Hey!" They both looked at me like I was an alien. "Where the hell have you been?" David asked. "Vodka in the choir room," I whispered, knowing that David would like that idea. For some reason I wanted him to discover that Amy had moved on with an older boy. "Let's go," he said to Charlie, who was just staring at me. "Have some fun!" I said a little too loudly to encourage him, but he wasn't interested. "I'm ok, I don't want to," he answered. "Suit yourself, I'm gonna get a buzz," David said and headed out, leaving me standing alone with Charlie. The awkwardness came rushing back, and I felt really sick to my stomach. I couldn't even look at him, but could feel his eyes burning through me. "You left me alone again," he said with simmering anger in his voice, "you said that you wouldn't do that. Now you're drunk and everything is fine, right?" he paused, then said, "You're being a jerk." In a perfect world, I would have apologized, I would have explained what happened after we kissed, how confused I was, how I realized for the first time that I had feelings for a boy. Unfortunately, what came to the forefront was the repercussions of my drinking, "I think that I might throw up," I said with a little panic. Charlie got frantic and grabbed my arm and started pulling me in the direction of the bathroom. We flew through the door and it wasn't a moment too soon. I just made it into the stall and had to stick my head over the piss covered rim as the first retches set in. I got to revisit everything that I had consumed tonight , and it wasn't pretty. After several rounds and some horrible burps I finally sat on the ground and leaned my back on the stall partition, exhausted, sweating and newly sober. "How are you doing?" I heard Charlie gently ask from outside the door. "I think that I'm done," I told him, then was wracked by another disgusting belch. I rolled over so that I was on all fours and was trying to find something to support me so that I could stand. The only thing sturdy enough was the bowl, so I planted my hand there and started struggling to my feet. There was a soft knock, "If you unlock the door I can help you," Charlie offered quietly, but I was already up and ready to leave the stall. I unlocked the door and he was standing to the side of the stall, "Are you ok?" he asked. I looked over at him, and knew that I was a complete assholr. I had been mean to him when we met, I had ignored him tonight, and now he was here, staying with me when I needed someone. "I'm ok," I answered weakly. "You've got puke on your face," he told me and grabbed a paper towel, got it wet and started to wipe around my mouth. When he stopped, I leaned over the sink and took some water in my mouth to gargle the taste away, spitting the foul combo back out. I stood back up, the world clear again, and looked in the mirror at my disheveled appearance. "I look like shit," I said, mostly to myself. "You look ok to me," Charlie said, his voice just above a whisper, his eyes focused on the ground. I turned toward him and, after a pause said, "I'm so sorry about everything that I did tonight. Thank you for being nice to me when I was a shithead to you." "It's ok, I'm not mad," he said, "we're friends, everything doesn't have to be perfect." Charlie paused and looked up at me, "Are you really sorry about everything?" he finished, emphasizing "everything" then looking up at me expectantly. We stayed like that in silence for several seconds, then I said, "I'm confused, I don't know why I did that in the balcony," I confessed. He kept his eyes on me, making me feel more and more awkward. Then he finally spoke, "I'm not confused," he stated clearly and assuredly, then softly he added, "I've never thought about it either, but when we were there that was exactly what I wanted to happen." Just then the door slammed open and three kids walked in laughing and talking loudly, breaking up our talk. We both quietly headed out the door and into the hallway. We walked slowly side by side, close enough that our hands hit twice and I realized that I wished I could hold his hand. I'd never been so surprised, but it occurred to me that I was just like Charlie, I wasn't confused, this is what I want. I stopped and turned to him to talk quickly with no one around, "What now?" I asked. Charlie looked up at me, "I don't know," he said, then smiled, "but I'm not kissing your throw-up mouth!" and laughed out loud. Not able to do anything but move forward, we turned and headed back to the common room. Things were calmed down and people were staking our sleeping spots around the building. David wasn't anywhere to be found, so Charlie and I grabbed our stuff and found a quiet spot in the same balcony area where we had watched David get a bj and we had kissed. There were several other kids up there, but we were able to spread out enough that we could whisper without anyone hearing. We brushed our teeth and I took the opportunity to gargle some mouthwash to get the last remnants of my embarrassing puke session. Once we had settled in we said goodnight and tried to sleep, but neither one of us moved as we lay on our sides facing each other, our eyes wide open in the dim light. It was hot, so both of us had our upper bodies out of our sleeping bags. This in turn had our arms free. After some time, Charlie started to move, stretching his hand out to again touch my face, this time placing his index finger at my lips and tracing a circle around them. I opened my lips slightly, and let him slide his finger between them. I had no idea why I allowed him inside, but I made a seal around it with my lips, and tentatively licked at it with my tongue. For whatever reason, this was very exciting to me, to have a part of him inside me. Never would I have guessed that would occur to me in a million years. I could see Charlie smiling as I sucked away on his finger. Before it had a chance to get old, he slipped his finger out, still smiling at me. Again we were quiet, facing each other, when I decided that I couldn't stay away from him. I tried to lift myself up but the rustle of my sleeping bag echoed in the quiet room. I stopped suddenly, and Charlie stifled a giggle. I had managed to prop myself up on my elbow, looking over and down onto Charlie. Eventually Charlie did the same and leaned on his elbow, making an equal amount of noise but then the air conditioning came on and was loud enough to muffle the noise that we were making. I used this cover to lean toward Charlie, and he leaned in too until our lips touched. This time we stayed there, moving our lips around each other until I parted my lips, knowing about French kissing but never doing it before, and touched his lips with my tongue. Charlie pulled back in shock, "What was that?" he whispered. I was concerned, "It's French kissing," I whispered back, "it's touching tongues while you kiss." Charlie wrinkled his nose, then plopped back down onto his back and grabbed my upper hand, "Let's do this," he said, his voice covered by the loud air conditioning. His sleeping bag had pushed down when we were kissing, so that it was just above his waist. With his left hand he pushed the bag down farther and pulled my hand inside, pulling me right to his groin. I was so shocked that I kept my fingers in a light fist, even as the backs of my fingers touched his sweat pant covered boner. I'm sure that my eyes were like saucers as I touched the younger boys penis for the first time in my life, even if it was through a thick pair of pants. Charlie rubbed my hand back and forth along the ridge created by his cock until I opened my hand and felt his shape for the first time as my seeking fingers felt around until I was fully grasping his dick and started to rub it on my own. "Inside," he whispered, and pulled his sweats away from his body. I awkwardly maneuvered my hand across the smooth skin of his flat lower belly, and seemingly hairless pubic area until finally I reached the goal, and wrapped my fingers around his small tool. He was much smaller than me, so it felt wild to touch a cock that was so different. Charlie was grinning goofily as he was stroked, I assume for the first time, by another hand. Suddenly the noisy air conditioning stopped and it was deadly silent, causing me to freeze, my hand still wrapped around the warm little pole of flesh. After staying like that for a few seconds I started to squeeze and massage him, running my finger over the tip when I realized that I could be silent and still please him. My heart was pounding with excitement while Charlie lay back and closed his eyes, occasionally letting out a barely audible, "hm, hm," sound when I hit a sensitive spot before he breathed in a little louder and contentedly blew the air out of his nose, seeming to sink into the sleeping bag. I realized that if a kiss was such a happy moment for him, this must be out of this world. We continued like this, me kneading his penis and fondling his little hairless balls while he lay completely content with the world, when luckily the air kicked on again and we had cover once more for any sounds that we made. This gave me to the courage to lean down over him and touch lips again as I began to actually stroke his erection. His eyes popped open when I surprised him with the kiss, but then he wrapped his arms around me and opened his mouth, seeming to want to devour me. "Not so wide," I whispered with a laugh, and we returned to kissing, his tongue finally worming out of his lips and into my mouth where I sucked on it, causing Charlie to groan with pleasure. My instinct was to roll over on top of him as we made out, but I was still trapped in my sleeping bag. My boner was throbbing and I badly wanted to rub it against Charlie's little tool. This was truly the best moment of my life, but it wasn't enough. I needed more. "Let's go to the bathroom," I whispered into his ear after I broke our kiss. Charlie opened his eyes and nodded. I looked around and realized that no one was really going to see us, since there was a doorway right by us that led into the upstairs hallway, both of which were pitch black. But we had to move quickly before the air conditioning shut off. Charlie was already moving, so I pointed which way to go and we hustled our the door, giggling as we made our escape. We were almost running when we went through the door, but slowed as soon as we were out of sight. Once away from any prying eyes, I was finally able to take Charlie's hand into mine, interlocking our fingers as we strolled down the long hall, searching for the upstairs bathroom. Charlie looked up at me with his warm look, then took the upper part of my arm in his opposite hand bringing his body up against mine as we softly bumped into each other as we walked. We were fairly far down the hallway when I noticed an open door to one of the Sunday school classrooms. "Let's go in here," I whispered. As I headed inside I turned the light on quickly to see if anyone else was in there, but the room was empty, so I shut it off before we drew attention. I urged Charlie inside with my hand and closed the door. I was surprised to find a usable lock, so I secured the room and turned back to Charlie. We were just inside the door, but it was solid, so no one could see us from the hall. I wrapped my arms around Charlie and mashed my mouth to his. I was stroking around his back clumsily, like I was giving some kind of frantic back rub. Then I slid my hands down to his butt and for the first time grabbed onto his cheeks and started to knead them and run my hands over and over their soft form. Charlie had his arms wrapped around my back as he humped his spike up into me, trying to rub our cocks together. Trying to help him, I started to ease his sweatpants down, first exposing his butt, then his beautiful little boner popped out of his waistband. Immediately after it came into the open I latched on with my right hand and resumed the hand-job that I'd started in the balcony. Charlie suddenly broke the kiss and we both gasped. "Greg," he said, "will you do what Amy did to David?" I knew what he meant and I knew that I wanted to do it more than anything in my life. But I wasn't going to make it that easy. "What do you want me to do?" I asked him in a whisper, "say what you want." Charlie giggled like someone much younger, as if he was saying a swear word for the first time. He commanded between little laughs, "I want you to suck my dick." I just smiled back, I was hard as a rock with the excitement of tasting a penis, and quickly dropped to my knees and stared closely at someone else's cock for the first time in my life. It was beautiful to my eyes, and I didn't hesitate to close the gap between his crotch and my lips, excitedly opening my mouth and letting the shaft slip through the tight "o" that it made. "Oh my god, you're sucking my dick!" he said in awe, "Fuck yeah, oh man, use your tongue like that," he urged as I wrapped it around his skinny nail and covered as much surface area with it as I could. Without releasing his penis, I worked to get his sweats off of him, having an intense, almost obsessive desire to get him naked. He kicked them off clumsily when they reached his ankles. I sat more upright and pushed my hands up from his completely bald pubis, up over his muscular stomach and began pushing his shirt as I went. I just continued to push upward until he had no choice but to take the hint and grab the hem, lifting it over his head and off of his arms. He stood in front of me completely bare except for his socks. The feel of his super hard little cock felt so great in my mouth. I reached into my own pants, grabbed my rock-hard dick and started stroking myself, subconsciously keeping pace with my lips on Charlie's penis. "Pull your pants off," Charlie said, and I realized that he caught a glimpse of my action, "I want to see what your dick looks like hard." I let his little dick slip out of my lips and asked, "Hard?" "I've seen it soft in the locker room, but only dreamed about what it looks like hard." I was pleased to hear him admit to checking me out the same way that I'd done him. Staying down on my knees, I pushed my pants down and leaned back a little to show him my throbbing boner. "Nice!" he said, "I like that you have hair," he added, causing me to reflexively touch my growing patch of pubic hair. After a couple of seconds, Charlie cleared his throat in a fake, attention-getting way and held his erection out to me encouraging me to resume sucking. When he pulled it down like that, it made a little dimple in the skin above his cock that seemed super hot to me and I pounced back on, wanting this so much it was like I couldn't get enough of him inside me. Everything that had happened so far tonight had both of us on edge. I was spanking my dick so fast that I was in danger of injury. At the same time I was losing my mind slobbering over Charlie's hard spike. "I'm getting the feeling," he announced, "keep going." I had no intention of stopping, and redoubled my efforts as I felt my own orgasm coming. "I'm getting it, I'm getting it!" Charlie squealed, and then he smashed against me, and I felt him get super stiff against my tongue, then it twitched and I was shocked to have a little flavor come across my taste buds. The little guy had cum! It wasn't much, but I was so turned on by it that my own climax hit me like a truck. Charlie was pushing me off of his sensitive dick, and I gasped as I felt my cum start, the feeling rose up through my whole body until my balls spasmed and my first spurt shot out of my penis, shooting beyond my field of vision, followed by several more blasts before a little dropped out right below me, the last drop hanging on the end of my glans. "Wow, you came!" Charlie said, reclaiming his grown-up sex vocabulary that had abandoned him during his orgasm. He kneeled down next to me and bent his head down close to the floor to examine the results of my orgasm, "I've never seen cum before," he said with shock. "I think that you came a little bit," I told him, "I could taste it right as you got your feeling." "No way," he said as he rotated and sat his bare butt on the floor, "I've never cum before." "Well, I tasted something, maybe you're starting," I answered. Charlie looked at me for a second, then made a childish, "Rahr," sound and pounced on me. 80 pounds of naked boy pushed me over onto my back and he lay on top of me, bringing his lips back to mine. We started out being silly, but quickly calmed down and grew more passionate as we slowly worked our lips together. Finally we stopped and I lay my head back, Charlie laying his head on my shoulder. I wanted to stay there forever, holding Charlie, not caring what the world thought. I had come to a lot of realizations about myself that night, and the final one was summed up by this, "I love you, Charlie," I said softly. Charlie's head popped up and he sought out my eye as an excited smile crossed his lips, "Oh, man Greg," he said, "I love you too!" And he lay his head back down, and we stayed like that, him holding my sides and me with my arms wrapped around him, our breathing calm and measured until we fell asleep. It was the happiest moment of my life. I woke with a start a couple hours later. Gathering my surroundings and feeling the weight of the naked boy on top of me, I remembered where I was. I looked at my watch and saw that it was 3:30 in the morning. We needed to move before someone came looking for us, besides, while we were at least laying on a thin industrial carpet, it covered a tile floor, so it was not a comfortable spot to sleep. Gently I woke Charlie up. He was confused and groggy, but I was able to get him dressed and headed back to our sleeping bags. I helped him get in and he immediately rolled over and his breathing deepened. Looking at his contented, sleeping form, I couldn't resist quietly leaning over and giving him a kiss on the cheek before getting into my sleeping bag and falling into a sound sleep.