IMHO, Nifty is a resource that is every bit as valuable as the free Gutenberg Project or the free Audio Librivox and they still need periodic support. 

Please Don't let Nifty's 25th anniversary go unnoticed!

The author “Chance” is me, “Larkin” This is an effort to re-compose my old roster into a new roster comprised old and new works, re-written and done with more careful editing. (omitting junk) I hope you will understand.

Please send comments to: to I will respond

We are Caterpillars

by Chance/Larkin

We sat together in a clearing we had made for ourselves in the middle of an endless field of reeds.
Hidden from the rest of the world, it was a tiny crop circle all to our own.

Denny's shorts and underwear were pulled down and stretched between his knees.

He spoke with authority. "Cause, that's what you do with it, you pee in a girl's hole."

Now I was not only puzzled, I was confused.
Denny held his limp weenie in his hand and then squeezed it until it bulged out between his two fingers.
Its head appeared like a little sea creature only to retract on its own.
I wasn't bold enough to expose myself like Denny had, but I watched him with great interest.

"But you have to have a boner first or it won't stick in."

I wasn't even sure what a boner was.
That should give you some idea of how young we were.

Denny went on to demonstrate.
He tugged up and down on his dickie with three fingers and a thumb, stopping periodically to sharply flick at it until it began to stand stiffly up on its own.
Proudly he displayed it to me.
It stood up a little more than two inches and it twitched up and down.
His enthusiasm began to infect me.

"Let me see yours."

He didn't wait for me to respond; he reached over and clumsily tried to put his hand down my pants.
I felt like I should try to stop him but I didn't.
I probably didn't because, between boys, "What's fair is fair".

Now he was up on his knees pulling open my pants with one hand and reaching in to touch my penis with the other.
I admit to feeling uncomfortable like being in a doctor's office.
He pulled my pants out of the way and made me lie back while he went to work on my dickie.

I closed my eyes and all I could see was my angry mother and cross teachers all warning me against doing bad things.
Only by destroying them with imaginary explosions was I able to relax.
Suddenly the creepy tickling on my little weenie evolved into a wondrous feeling.

I looked up to see Denny pulling my boner down and letting it flip up.
I wanted him to keep on doing what he was doing.
I remembered having boners before but I never knew that it was some thing that could be summoned at will.

Denny got up and trotted back and forth in our hideout with his pants and underpants down around his ankles.
He celebrated how stupid it looked but it didn't matter.
It was about pure freedom.

He pulled his shirt up and tucked it under his chin so that his belly, along with his stiff little penis was exposed for the sky to see.
He was still giggling when he leaned back and began peeing into the reeds.
Soon we were both naked and incredibly happy.

I was filled with a new and growing awareness of myself.
I can hear the panicked cries of sexual abuse, molestation.
I say, relax.
What really happened?
When you think about it, nothing.
All boys have a secret life.
Experiences shared but never put into words.
These experiences are guides for the entry into manhood, but once there, like the butterfly emerging from the chrysalis, they deny the existence of caterpillars.