This is a quickie, one of those passing occurrences that seems unexplainable before your epiphany, but perfectly logical once you've taken your own plunge.
It was sixth grade. I was attending a middle school on an Air Force base. This was my first year to take PT. Civilians called it PE (for Physical Education), but military families called it PT (Physical Training). The concept of PT was rooted in the rigors of Basic Training.)
One of the boys in PT with me was a little Hispanic dude named Manuel, also a sixth-grader, but a somewhat quieter and gentler kid than the majority of us Air Force brats. I had no clue about how boys progressed into maturity at different rates, so Manuel was a novelty to me. Unlike any of the rest of us in sixth grade, he had a hint of soft, wispy whiskers on his upper lip. The rumor around school was that he'd had that proto-mustache since first grade. Not only that, but he had real sideburns growing from his cheeks.
I was late getting to the showers one day. Everybody had finished except Manuel, who at first glance (and based on the position of his arms) was apparently scrubbing his penis when I arrived, It seemed that he tried to turn away the second he saw me, which was strange because we had all adapted comfortably to seeing each other in the nude. Everybody soaped and rinsed their crotches in front of everybody else. Manuel had quit washing his dick and was now busy soaping his armpits.
But I was lucky. As Manuel washed his underarms, his dick sort of bounced back and forth sideways, into and out of view. It was in a peculiar state, sticking out and up in a very stiff manner but also covered in foamy soapsuds. It reminded me of a coat hook fastened to a wall, protruding up into space.
My little mind immediately concluded that Manuel had quit washing his dick out of consideration for me. He must have switched his attention to his armpits so that his "swollen" dick would not embarrass either one of us. But that didn't explain the condition of the dick itself. The stiffness, vertical thrust and overall enlargement of Manuel's soapy organ were unusual to a neophyte like me.
Manuel quickly finished showering. He stood with his back to me while rinsing off. As far as I could tell, he gave his dick no unusual attention. As he walked out and grabbed his towel, I wondered whether his dick remained elongated and up-thrust.
It was the first erection I ever saw and I replayed it in my brain time after time.
My few fleeting views of Manuel's hard-on could not have lasted more than ten seconds. But days later his protruding boner was still consuming my thoughts and generating mysterious stiffies of my own. Later, many months later, after I discovered what dicks were made for, I somehow knew that Manuel had been enjoying a pleasant masturbation when I surprised him in the showers. Must have been a downer for him to be interrupted, but my fleeting glimpse of his stiff brown peter was the subject of my thoughts again and again.
After I found my own nuts I wished for a time machine so I could relive that moment and alter it to suit myself. I would have entered the showers sooner, would have been silent as a mouse and kept out of Manuel's peripheral vision. Then I would have wiggle and jiggled my own stiff little poker while watching quiet, gentle and horny Manuel stroke himself. Together, without him every being aware of it, we would both launch nice squirts of cum into the water foaming its way to the drain.
But time machines are no more than Sci Fi stuff, and I never had the pleasure of any further encounter with Manuel and his stiff brown peter -- except in my bedtime fantasies.
No comments:
Post a Comment