The Secret Clubhouse

My parents moved us to a different house the summer I was 13. A boy about a year younger than me lived behind us. Our backyards were separated only by a wood fence. It didn't take long to learn that Jacob used to be best friends with a boy named Stevie that lived in my house before us. Jacob didn't like me at first. I guess he resented me because he was upset over his best friend leaving, plus me now living in that same house. He was a real jerk.

 Gradually Jacob acknowledged me in a sort of sulky way, and showed me things such as the two loose fence boards where he and Stevie used to crawl back and forth between each other's yards. Everything he talked about had something to do with Stevie. I got sick and tired of hearing everything he and Stevie used to do together.

I missed my old friends too, but you didn't see me moaning about them to other people. Actually, there was this one certain dude that I would have given anything to see again, if only we could find a secret place and a few private minutes to enjoy one more happy wank together. But he was way off in the other end of town and my only recourse was to handle my problem by myself every few days.

 Meanwhile, Jacob would whine constantly about Stevie when we tried to play together. Things took a turn one day when he said, "Do you want to see me and Stevie's clubhouse?" In my mind I just boiled, thinking "Stevie, Stevie, Stevie! No, I sure as hell do not want to see anything else about you and Stevie!" But I kept quiet and followed Jacob through the loose fence boards and into his yard.

 Between Jacob's garage and the side fence there was a gap less than three feet wide. It was overgrown with tall weeds, saplings and bushes. We approached from the back, behind the garage. Jacob got down on his stomach and wiggled his way under the overhanging vines, telling me to follow.

 About halfway along the side of the garage a piece of plywood had been laid on the weeds to form a floor. The brush was cleared away. Higher up, a second piece of plywood was wired and nailed in place, making a roof. The guys had built themselves a tiny room in that overgrown gap between the garage and the fence. It was high enough to stand up in, but it was so narrow that the two of us could not stand side-by-side.

Jacob pointed at the obvious and said, "Here it is."

 The little clubhouse was as secret as any place could be in the middle of a city. Nobody but Jacob and Stevie knew it was there. And now me.

 I tried to think of something to say. Finally I asked Jacob, "What did you dudes do in here, anyway?"

 He didn't answer immediately. "Uh..." he said. And then after a minute added, "Well, sometimes it was our bathroom."

 Then he started talking faster. "See? You can stand over here and go. Your pee goes into the bushes and you don't get wet or anything. And you don't have to go into the house to do it."

 He kept talking, but he wasn't looking at me. "So, someday if you need to GO, let me know, and..."

 "Okay," I told him.

 "You could go right now if you wanted to," he added.

 Now I was getting interesting vibes. There seemed to be a funny note of hopefulness in what Jacob said. Putting two and two together, I guessed that Stevie and Jacob used their clubhouse for special private business.

 "You first," I said.

 "Um... well... I don't really need... I thought maybe... you... might need..."

 "Show me how you did it."

 "Um... well, just stand here on the end of the board. You pee right there into the bushes. It soaks into the ground. That's all."

 "Go ahead and do it."

 The kid stammered around. "Well, I would have to get... my zipper... and my thing... you just go ahead and..."

 He stepped back and kind of pushed me forward. What the hell, Jacob was clearly manipulating me to take a piss in his presence. I moved toward the edge of the floor, sensing a little rise in my groin. "Right here?" I asked.

 "That's good. Fine. Now... just go ahead... go ahead and..."

 Jacob was still behind me where he couldn't see my hands on my fly. "I'm pulling my zipper down,"  I told him.

 "Uh, yeah?" He sounded odd and edged up close to me. "Go ahead," he said."

 "I'm getting my dick out."

 "Yes?" A little silence and then a weird question, "How is it?"

 "What do you mean, how is it?"

 "Um, sometimes Stevie's... thing... it stuck out, you know. Like when... when... they get... hard?"

 "Did yours?" I asked him.

 "Did mine what?"

 "Stick out? Get hard?"

 "Uh... mine... uh... (tiny whisper) sometimes."

 I thought, bingo! Jacob and Stevie played with each other's erect peters in here. And now Jacob is trying to wangle a look at my peter to see if it's hard. And going on from there, he's wondering whether I might turn out to be a replacement for Stevie.

 "Okay," I told him. "I'm gonna try to piss. Sometimes it doesn't work when I've got a hard on."

 "Yours is... actually... you've got a... it's... hard?"

 Jacob gave me a little sideways push toward the wall of the garage, opening a slight gap between my body and the fence. "Lot of leaves and vines there," he said. "Let me hold them out of your way."

 "Uh-huh," I thought. He's working it out to get a peek. Jacob made himself as small as possible and leaned sideways into the space next to me. "Just gonna hold these branches out of your way. You go ahead... go ahead and... Ooo, there's your... Sorry, I just happened to... it's sticking out, isn't it? I mean... I couldn't miss it."

 Jacob had succeeded in getting a look at my dick, exactly what he had wanted all along.

 "I don't think I can piss right now," I told him. "My thing's too hard. Your turn, man." I backed away from the edge of the plywood, halfway shielding my boner with one hand and trying to shove it back into my pants.

 Jacob was talking, not really replying to me, but just talking: "Did you know Stevie was 14? His... thing... it would get... (tiny whisper again) stiff... like... like yours."

 Jacob moved up to the edge of the plywood. I figured he was erect, standing there waiting for the piss to make its way through his delivery system. Finally I heard the sound of liquid spraying through leaves and twigs.

 "Okay, I did it," Jacob announced, hurriedly pulling up his zipper.

 We stood there looking at each other. Then Jacob spoke: "Can I ask you a question?"

 "Okay."

 "What kind of... underwear... do you... y'know... wear?"

 "Plaid Boxers. Why?"

 "No reason. Only, boxers is what Stevie wore."

 "What about you? Briefs, I bet?"

 "Yeah. Or a jock strap sometimes."

 Jacob's eyes seemed fixed on my crotch.

 "Hey, why don't you lay down here on the floor?" he asked. "Get comfortable."


Now that Jacob had got that statement out of his system he went into a sort of hyper mode.

Martin-

End of Part I