Fooling With Peter (Part 1)

Winters in Poland some times are really bad ones. The year I was close to turning 15 yo happened to be very cold, -30ºC (-22ºF). I’ve got the flu, so for few days I had to stay home. One day after my parents left for work, my older brother told me that he was going to see his girlfriend. As soon as I heard the front door slammed, I dropped my coverlet on the floor, took of my pajamas, closed eyes and started to play with my dick and balls. Quite soon I’ve got nice boner and I just played with it slowly, to prolong the pleasure, I moved my hand up and down. Suddenly I heard a quiet giggle. I opened my eyes and got scared. My new neighbor friend Peter was standing in the middle of my room looking at me with big grin.

I guess it was my brother who let him in, but I didn’t hear! I reached for a quilt to cover-up, but I fell on the floor like a clumsy goof. My friend laughed loudly. I jumped on my feet, just standing naked, with my boner bouncing around. So I asked him,

“What you are laughing at stupid idiot?”

“ I laugh at you,  because I never fell from my bed during wanking!” he laughed again and said,

“ When you were jerking off with your closed eyes you had a face like a cat, who just ate canary bird!”

- “Interesting what is your face when you wank?!” I said.


  “Want to see?” said Peter and without waiting for my answer, he dropped his jeans and briefs, and sat naked on my bed. He had already a nice boner.

I set close to him and we wanked ourselves till each of us had a nice cum. Then we both smiled with relief.

“Did you wank before with another boys” I asked.

He hesitated for a moment then said,

“In a village I grew up, I had two friends. We fooled together, and several times a week we jerked each other”.

In my imagination I saw three boys jerking each other, and I got an immediate boner again. Without thinking, I grabbed his soft dick and caressed him. He smiled, and grabbed mine. It only took five minutes and we fired our loads again.

And then something horrible happened! I didn’t heard our front door open, because next I saw my brother standing in at my doorway, seeing both of us, with our dicks still rigid, and wet spots on the floor. I couldn’t move, or speak. My brother laughed and said,

“Don’t worry.... don’t disturb yourselves. I forgot to take cinema tickets. I am leaving soon. For the future, remember little brother, to set the internal lock on the front door”.

One minute later he was gone. For another minute or two, we remain silent and scared.

“Will he tell your parents? Have you wanked with your brother?” quietly asked my friend.

“We never did anything together, but he would keep silent. I saw him many times smoking cigarettes, even when he was much younger, and I never snitched on him.

We relaxed and finally laughed out what just happened.

Next day Peter came again to ask about my cold. My brother let him in and with nice grin said
“OK, I am going again to see my girlfriend. Have a nice wank session guys! And remember to use internal lock!”

Carlo

End Part 1 of 3

Mid-Summer Blog Update

This is a blog update, which perhaps I am well overdue to produce. However we have had a long run of great stories submitted by our readers, which indeed always seems more satisfying to post than general chit chat about the blog. Yet today I will take advantage of the lull in stories to present some friendly words about where we are at.

Recently I have noticed generous interest by new visitors from Europe and Russia. I certainly welcome all new visitors and I hope they enjoy our format. I suspect that some have come to enjoy our photos alone, but hopefully all will a discover and appreciate the many fine stories that are shared here. I like to choose and present a picture to accompany each story that might bring a greater appreciation for the story, but we will never function solely as a picture blog. Therefore, I still welcome those guests who might have linked to us due to an interesting photo, however I invite all to take some time reading a few stories. I believe you will likely find a thread that touches upon your own memories or thoughts, stirring something deep within. I ask for your continued support if you  might take some time to place a comment or memory in any story. If you want to tell a complete story you may certainly do so.

Please review our FAQ page for suggestions on submitting a long story. But if you have just a few random thoughts that you feel tells a story, you can outline it for our readers in a comment to appreciate how much your life might parallel their own. Honestly, how often do you get to tell about rare pleasurable moments,  unique and treasured in your retrospect, but this telling might otherwise cast a darkness upon most social conversations. So obviously, OOTS4U is probably your moment and venue to share those long suppressed thoughts and memories.

 I am touched lately by some long-time readers, in particular those of you have become closer to the nest and sadly to the couple of you who have taken a more distant position due to difficult home situations. I understand and appreciate everyone who makes us a part of their day or week. As a suggested highlight for the 2 special readers who recently extended special interest for the blog, I am featuring the pictures they have shared with me this week......And a couple of my own selections including some special pics from friends.

Eric-

Look at all the lil' Eisenhower era baby-boomer dudes! About 1955? Hair greased and combed! Shirts with collars. Everybody with their carton of milk... Half of me wishes I'd been there and the rest of me is glad I wasn't!

What's that teenage boy doing on your couch?He's probs just hungry right.

Alex muy atractivo con churros en la boca

just Josh

MG's Lucas

Alex esta mas Guapo

  

Returning to the Old Farms

I was recently looking at some of the pictures of the farms that my grandparents owned. I haven't been by the two farms where I was raised for many years. I decided to take on the four hour drive to see what the farms looked like today.

During those next four hours all I could think about what the farms must look like now after all these years. I became curious if they are still even there. If the structures are still standing what kind of shape are they might be in. I got to wondering if the flower gardens were still there. Grandma liked her flower gardens, she took extra special care of her many plantings and colorful gardens.

Aside from the nostalgia of my roots, I thought continuously about my boyhood there. I recall how the fresh air and smell of hay brought me to a natural sense clad deep in the abundance of nature. Like any kid, my carefree thoughts as a boy often told me to get naked just like the animals all around were. Who knows how many times I took a whizz outdoors and just decided to let my pecker dangle for a while. I reckon all this was a chance of a lifetime, and thinking back now, it seems almost like a dream, but oh how I was lucky enough to live it. 

 

  

When I drove up to my old home place, what a shock when I saw what condition the farms are in today. On the first farm all the Barn buildings are now all gone. The house and outhouse is all that is left standing today. What great times I had in that house. It didn't have any indoor plumbing. There was a huge cistern in the basement that held our water for drinking, cooking and baths. I still can recall grandma chasing me around the house saying! Jim you took your diaper off again. Finally she would catch me and put the diaper back on me. I would always tell grandma or grandpa I had to go potty. They would always take my diaper off of me so I wouldn't go in my diaper. I would then wander off to the outhouse naked and do what ever I had to do. Err….sorry guys, I have no idea what made me think of all that.

The red shed is where grandpa made me my own get away room. He called the room Jim's room. When I had company we would go to the room and play. Usually it led to us being curious about what each boy looked like under clothes, and well you can guess the kind of games we did with each other.

 I drove on to the other farm which was right down the hill. I couldn't believe what I saw. The buildings are all falling down there is grass and weeds growing up all over the place. We had no plumbing in this house

either. So we had an out house. What great times I had in that house. That is were I first learn how to suck on a peter. I also learn a lot more stuff we did to each other.

 In the garage when my cousins or the neighbor boy would come and spend the day or even sometimes stay over night with me. We would go to the garage and make a line on the floor. Then we would stand back and see who could pee over the line.
I took pictures of the way the farms look now.

All the way back home all I could thing about is the great times I had on those two farms.

Some of the buildings may be falling down. But my memories will always be with me.

Farm Boy-

The "Numbers" Guy

A guy I met at sleep-away camp used a mysterious joke to get my attention while he took care of his stiffie. I was about 12. We were getting ready to hike a trail. We had to go in pairs so everybody could be accounted for. This bigger boy, 14 or 15, asked me if I wanted to be his partner. After hiking and climbing for a while we stopped to piss in the undergrowth. I sneaked a look at his dick and I knew he was checking mine. The guy said he wanted to tell me a joke. It went like this:

 Once there was a boy who did everything by the numbers. When he ate, he would say "One" and pick up his fork. "Two," he speared some food with his fork. "Three," he put the fork in his mouth.

This same boy also went to the bathroom by the numbers, saying: "One" as he unzipped his pants. "Two" while getting his weenie out. "Three," he pulled the loose skin of his peter out of the way. "Four," aim his pee into the toilet. "Five," slide the loose skin back where it belonged. "Six," tuck his weenie into his pants. "Seven," close his zipper.

One day he was in the rest room and another boy walked in. The "numbers" guy seemed to be talking to himself as he stood at the pisser. The other boy listened to see what was going on. He heard the numbers boy saying "Three-Five! Three-Five! Three-Five!" real fast, again and again!

That was the end of the joke. The other boy snickered as if it was hugely funny. I didn't understand it, but I laughed anyway so I wouldn't appear dumb. The boy who had just told me the joke was now looking at me with his eyebrows raised, nodding his head downward to get me to look toward his fly. His hand was busy with his dick, which had grown since I peeked at it. It was longer and stiffer than it used to be. His hand was going back and forth. As soon as I looked, he began saying "Three-Five! Three-Five!"

He kept on three-fiving himself until a lot of gray-looking fluid arced out of his weenie and landed on the bushes and weeds.

He said, "Whew, I needed that." I was sure I had just witnessed something special on the part of my bigger friend but I was completely mystified.

He let me watch him do the three-five routine a couple more times that week. He also invited me to feel of his stiffy, and he responded by playing with my hard little boner. At his suggestion we gave each other a few three-fives like he'd been doing to himself.

One time I saw him head down the trail with a different partner. I was pretty sure there would be some three-fiving involved. It kind of made me mad that he was doing it with somebody else. I wanted to sneak along behind them and get a look, but chickened out.

By the next time he asked me to hike with him, I was ready to go again so I could watch him do the three-fives to his dick while letting him play with my little stiffie.

Anonymous

Middle School Science Class

I was in 6th or 7th grade, taking general science from an old guy who was not very patient with us kids. One of the boys who was always kind of a trouble-maker was playing with a ball-point pen in the flame of his Bunsen burner despite the safety instructions from the teacher as well as the whispered warnings from other students. All of a sudden the pen caught fire and the jerk just jumped out of his chair and threw the flaming pen up into the air without regard for anybody else.

After the teacher got things under control again, he looked around the room and said, "There are three kinds of people in this world. Some learn from reading. Some learn from observation. But you..." He stabbed a finger at the crazy guy and really homed in on him, "You are one of the ones that only learn by pissing on the electric fence for yourself."

We all sat in stunned silence, astonished at hearing "piss" in class. Then the concept of the whole thing hit the boys, although not the girls: an electric fence, a stream of piss, a bare peter. Electric charge traveling up from the fence, along the stream of piss, straight to the exposed peter!

We looked at each other, trying to keep a straight face, but it was impossible. We were soon laughing our heads off. The girls didn't share our laughter, it was just a boy thing.

For weeks afterward, we quoted that line to anybody who screwed up: "Had to piss on the electric fence for yourself, eh?"

Anonymous

A Sweet Pair

 It is curious that when MG and I are together, out and about  the town, we come across some rare and very special sightings. Including for example the pair watching the sunset together featured as the header pic on the OOTS4U Blog. That was a fascinating moment gazing upon the two buddies enjoying a brief moment that evening. We could only guess what naughty plans would carry-out that night.  They were apparently on Holiday together, sharing some precious time along the beaches and piers of a lovely beach-side town.

 So yesterday at a large Mall near my home, we were strolling through and had not seen much of special attention that day, until a pair of young teens arm in arm were approaching from the opposite direction. Both appeared to be Hispanic one taller with straight shortish hair and the other slightly shorter but with spikey hair. Immediately I noticed and directed MG to look as well. We were both intrigued and trying to determine the nature of them altogether. Very soon, they went up the escalator to the second floor. Naturally since our curiosity was not satiated yet, we followed a distance back. They both went in to American Eagle for a quick browse. We amused ourselves a short while with the overlook of the remaining crowd. The pair soon cam e out of the store and with a closer glance they were now holding hands clearly not related and it was now clear that both were indeed males about 13. They turned down the walkway and we noted the younger one rested his head and snuggled against the taller boy. We were now astounded and convinced this pair were boy-friends. Although quite young they were not ashamed or timid to show their affection in a public place.

 MG was beside himself, we contemplated the nature of their obvious relationship, developing ideas on what other unique qualities and activities they might share. We felt free to let them meander away, hands gripped together and heads adjoined, in their winsome love. We went about our normal affairs, but stopped by the food-court area for MG could visit the rest rooms. I waited in the busy area for a bit, and guess which pair of sweeties ascended upon Chik-Fil-A. None other that our young cuties. I was a distance away but I could observe the courtship, as the taller one allowed the small boy to go ahead to the counter to place his order first. I thought what a young gentleman. Is the younger in the subservient role, I mused. That theory was smashed as the younger one paid the ticket and they stepped aside to receive their order. In a final glimpse the taller boy took the tray and they traversed the maze of tables choosing one near the walk-way, and I presume many more on-lookers gawked as before. Perhaps they fed each other or just played footsy under the table.

 We discussed them many times throughout our afternoon and later at home in our private time we played out a few more topics the two may have shared.

 Although some might object to such a display of teen love. We thought it was a beautiful example of what love can be. Indeed times are changing.

Eric & MG

Dad's Special Tickles

 I have one that might work. I don't know because it involves an adult and it looked very much like the boy was being touched inappropriately but I'm sure it was innocent.

 I was on the subway today. It wasn't very full when I got one but a couple of stops later a father and son boarded and took the seats facing mine. The boy was about 10 and very pleased to be out with his dad. 

 They seemed to be on their way to a baseball game. As the trip dragged on the boy started getting quiet and soon had his face buried in a game on his phone. His dad continued talking to him but the boy's replies came slower and more distracted until the dad decided he needed to take drastic measures. To my surprise he reached between his son's legs, slipped his hand right up the leg of his son's shorts and started tickling the inside of his thigh. The boy immediately started laughing and shrieking protests of "Dad! Dad!" but with both his hands clutching his phone and still trying to play the game, couldn't actually stop his father who continued for a surprisingly long time.

 When I was a boy my father would tickle me all over. It didn't seem anything less than innocent fun then and it didn't now. When they boy finally gave up his phone, the father stopped and the two continued laughing and talking the rest of the trip. They obviously have loving, healthy relationship. At the same time, in our society so vigilant about abuse I never expected to see an adult man do something so open to misinterpretation in public, especially with a stranger sitting just a few feet away. The father saw he watching them and gave a friendly smile. I smiled back and that was the end of it.

Alex

Let it Go Boys

 I have been in lots of public bath rooms. I don't ever remembering were a young guy would wait in line to take a piss. Unless all the urinals were full then they had to wait for one to open up. When the urinal open up they would just go up to the urinal and take out there peter and piss. Yes sometimes they would stand real close to the urinal while peeing so no one could sneak a pick at there goods. Then there were the ones that were not shy at all while taking a pee.

 Being raised on a farm I was never shy about showing what I had behind the zipper. I was always very proud of my goods. I guess maybe that is one difference between a farm boy and city boy.
Farm boys it was no big deal if anyone was watching them while they took a pee.

Then there are the city boys. most of the city boys were shy about showing there goods behind there zipper.
I had a friend he was a city boy and I knew what he had behind his zipper. When it came to taking a pee in a public bath room he made sure he stood as close as he could get to the urinal,  so no one could see his goods. After watching me pee and not caring if anyone saw my goods. He also came around after a little while, to let any one that wanted to watch him pee.


Farm Boy

Hi! My Name is Steven!

Is it a "relationship" if you don't have any physical contact? If so, I had a sort of strange "relationship" with a boy that was the cashier at a dollar store. I passed through a shopping center every day on the way home from school. Sometimes I stopped at the dollar store and bought candy or school supplies. This guy at the cash register wore a big tag on his shirt, "Hi! My Name is Steven!" Other than that. A person had to be sixteen to have an after-school job, so he had to be a couple years older than me. Other than that, I didn't know him at all.


  Well, one day I went into the restroom at the shopping center and Steven was standing at one of the urinals. I automatically went into the stall. After pissing, I went to the sink to wash my hands. Steven was still at his urinal, the one right by the sink. He was being still, not moving a muscle. I got the feeling he wanted me to leave so he could finish pissing. Maybe he was shy and couldn't do it around other people.

 Then there was a tiny bit of motion. Steven's hand seemed to be moving inside the urinal. Not fast, not drastic, just real slow and constant. I was so surprised that I couldn't move. Just kept standing there. Then I thought, you can't just stand here peeking, you've got to do something. So I washed my hands again. Then I got out my comb and messed with my hair.

 All that time Steven was continuing to move his hand back and forth in the urinal. The longer I stood there, the more he let me see. Very slowly he sort of relaxed, not hiding so much in the urinal. I could not believe what I was seeing. Before I knew what I was doing, I had to reach down and adjust my dick. I think it only was a milli-second, but somehow it must have sent Steven some kind of signal that I wanted to watch him some more.

 Now, he let me see about a two-inch gap between his leg and the side of the urinal. There was absolutely no doubt about it - he was jacking off. Not only that, he was also LETTING me look.

 Steven kept slowly jerking, dressed in his uniform of white shirt and black pants. I kept-on watching breathlessly. He backed up about half an inch more. Then still more. Now I could see his fingers slowly going back and forth and his erection sliding in and out of view as he wanked. I must have been staring with my mouth hanging open. The dude was showing off for me.

 After another minute or so Steven made a sort of breathy noise and had a spasm that shook his whole body for a second. And his cum squirted into the urinal.

 Focusing down, he shook his dick, shoved it into his dress pants, and headed straight out the door. I moved to the urinal and pulled out my stiffie that was hard, hard hard. Within seconds I shot my own load right on to his. The whole time I was jacking it was so horny thinking bout shooting on that other dude's cum. After it was done I just flushed and hauled-butt outta there.

 Steven and I encountered each other nearly every day, either at the dollar store (he didn't ever give a hint that we had a secret together) or some days at the restroom. I think he began timing his break at just the right time, cos he was standing at the urinal when he knew I would be heading home from school. Day after day he masturbated while I watched. He was giving me a present that racked my dick within seconds all the way from soft to inflexibly stiff, generously showing me his whole performance. As soon as he shot, he was gone. He never reached toward my crotch, never invited me to touch him, never motioned me to the other urinal. But he became relaxed enough to stand back about 12" from the urinal and let me have a completely clear look at his moving hand and hard peter.

 I had some awesome cumshots after Stephen finished up his daily wank, but there was never any friendship or social contact between us.

Anonymous

Jack and the Janitor

In 9th grade I used to jack off just about every day while still at school in one of the boy's rooms shortly after the school day ended.

 You see,  I shared a bedroom with my 6th grade younger brother and had very little privacy at home. So after too many days coming home from school, needing to wank badly and not having any good place to do it, I found this one Boys room down a hallway at school that was like a ghost town by about 5 minutes after the last school bus left. I don't know if it was laziness or just me being male and wanting to "leave my mark", but I'd just let my cum fly onto the floor and leave it there. That was my downfall.

 One day after I was done, I cleaned my dick with toilet paper and flushed, pulled up my pants over my still-hard dick and then opened the stall door. But this time, when I opened the door the school janitor was standing there! He glared at me and said,
 "So you're the one shooting your cum on the floor every day for me to clean up, huh??"

 I was so embarrassed! I promised him I would never do that again! After that, and until I graduated, that janitor always called me "Jack", even though that's obviously not my name. Friends would ask me why he called me Jack, and I'd just say he must have somehow thought that was my name.

Anonymous

The Double Adjustments

 I was in the electronics  department at a Big box store to look at some video games for my young cousins birthday.

There stood two young boys looking at video  games. I would guess their ages to be around fourteen years old.

They both had on loose shorts with elastic  bands, and they both wore t-shirts. 

 Where I was standing I could see the front of their shorts. There was no tents or bulges for either of the boys. Then all of sudden one boy reaches inside his short and adjusted his goods. I could tell he had started to develop a tent inside there.

  I thought to myself "Did I just see what I saw?" 

 Then he reached inside a second time and started adjusting some more. This time it took him a lot longer to get everything how he wanted. With his hand finally removed, I could see he had developed a good size tent. I don't know what they were looking at, but it had made an impression on the other kid too. The other boy he also reaches inside his elastic band and started to adjust his goods. It took him a couple of minutes to adjust balls and all. As he pulled his hand out of his shorts,  I could see he also had a nice size tent growing up too.

 They both looked at those amazing "tent maker" games a little more, then they turn and walked away, and I guess they also went out of the store.

  I don't think they had any idea that they were giving me a good show. I stood there for a little while thinking about what I just saw........They may have been quietly talking about the games, or something they planned to do later. I never knew what caused them both to massage their junk right in front of me, but it sure had an impact on us all.

  I whispered to myself,  "Thank you boys for making my day just a little more exciting.".

-Farm Boy

Oh, the Dangers of Getting a Little Relief

This was really amusing to me and I thought the readers might get a grin.

A kid was standing at the lavatory when I went into the men's room near the food court at our mall. He had a wad of wet paper towels in his hand, working hard to scrub the left leg of his dark brown Old Navy cargo shorts.

There could be many explanations. Maybe grease dripped from a juicy burger. Or gravy from chicken nuggets, or a splash from a milk shake.  But all of us have been there and know that the odds were on it being "something else."

I got a good look at him because he was so busy he didn't even seem to be aware of me. Young, quite young. The sort of "young" that shouts, "I just discovered myself last week."  Big pile of untidy blond hair. Full, puffy lips. Legs a little hairy but arms and face totally smooth. And working hard, very hard, on that pants leg. So hard that he was concentrating on his job like it was a matter of life and death. He worked feverishly as if his favored pants were now his worst enemy, he needed desperately to regain their allegiance to his apparent innocence

After scrubbing with wet towels, he patted the place with dry ones. Then walked to the hand dryer and tried to aim it at his damp pants. He tugged at the length of his white T-shirt in attempt to cover the damp spot, the horror on his face prevailed as  he paced about checking his appearance in the mirror from various angles.

I restrained myself from saying anything, of course, but my mind was full of good advice for him as I walked out: "Dude, you better run home and throw those pants in the washer before yo mama guesses what you been up to in the mall restroom!"

Oh, the dangers of getting a little relief!

MARTIN-

The Shameful Spot

This was something which happened recently, which was really amusing to me and I thought the readers might get a grin.

A kid was standing at the lavatory when I went into the men's room near the food court at our mall. He had a wad of wet paper towels in his hand, working hard to scrub the left leg of his dark brown Old Navy cargo shorts.

 There could be many explanations. Maybe grease dripped from a juicy burger. Or gravy from chicken nuggets, or a splash from a milk shake.  But all of us have been there and know that the odds were on it being "something else."

I got a good look at him because he was so busy he didn't even seem to be aware of me. Young, quite young. The sort of "young" that shouts, "I just discovered myself last week."  Big pile of untidy blond hair. Full, puffy lips. Legs a little hairy but arms and face totally smooth. And working hard, very hard, on that pants leg. So hard that he was concentrating on his job like it was a matter of life and death. He worked feverishly as if his favored pants were now his worst enemy, he needed desperately to regain their allegiance to his apparent innocence

After scrubbing with wet towels, he patted the place with dry ones. Then walked to the hand dryer and tried to aim it at his damp pants. He tugged at the length of his white logoed T-shirt in attempt to cover the damp spot, the horror on his face prevailed as  he paced about checking his appearance in the mirror from various angles.

I restrained myself from saying anything, of course, but my mind was full of good advice for him as I walked out: "Dude, you better run home and throw those pants in the washer before yo mama guesses what you been up to in the mall restroom!"

Oh, the dangers of getting a little relief!

Martin D.

Where did you get this?

 When I was in 9th grade I took Biology as my science. We had several really nice microscopes in our classroom, and the teacher encouraged us to come in after school and use them if we wanted to, to learn more about what things looked like under the microscope.


 Nobody actually took him up in that after-school extra work, but I got more and more curious wondering if I could possibly actually see if I was making sperm yet, and if so, what my sperm looked like. So one day after school I jacked off in the boy’s room, catching my semen in a plastic soda bottle cap. I went into the lab and I was completely alone, so I dipped my fingertip into my fresh cum, touched a little bit of the thick, cloudy fluid onto the slide, put a cover slip over it, and used an oil immersion lens like we had been taught, because these gave the sharpest images. I began examining my slide and fairly quickly found what I was looking for – thousands of little wiggly things swimming around with their tails beating like crazy. I then realized I definitely was making and ejaculating loads of what appeared to be very healthy and active sperm! Looking at my own sperm quickly gave me a rock hard erection which was poking up and tenting real badly, but I didn’t care because I was all alone.


 Then while intently staring into the microscope I was startled by my TEACHER, who I thought for sure had already gone home for the day. He asked me what I was looking at, and I sheepishly just said, “Nothing much”. Then he asked if he could take a look. I had no choice but to let him. He looked at my slide, and after a few seconds calmly said,
 “Where did you get this?”

 I responded, “In the boy’s room.”

 He then asked me, “Did you find it, or make it?”

 I told him “I made it”.

 He looked up at me, shook his head and smiled, told me “Nice slide. Carry on.”

 He then got up and left, saying nothing more. The next day I was so completely embarrassed to see him in class, but he never said a word to me about my “extra credit research” for the rest of the year.

Anonymous "Lab Tech"