An anonymous reader submitted this not too long ago through Guerrilla Mail. I think this holiday week-end is s great time to post it, as it has a surreal prose aspect which the author offers a philosophical view of himself and others around him. Take your time and absorb his words, where he uses a variety of symbolism to express his emotions.
Comment with your thoughts and interpretations.
Eric
My name is Cameron, and I really would like to show everyone something from my youth.
I had been rummaging through old essays I wrote as a high school student, and I came across one that really saddened me. It made me sad because it was a short story I remember writing. The story was about my high school life, but it was titled, simply, "Puma". I think I will explain what this story means another time if you would like, but I'm just wondering what you all think, without any context, this story is explaining? I was 16 when I wrote this, but it resonates with me even today.
There was once a Puma.
This baby Puma grew in a calm , beautiful environment and land, and had many friends of different species of animal. They all helped each other, growing up in the same beautiful land that taught young animals how to grow up and become a part of the wild.
The young Puma had light silver fur of the most luxurious quality, and soft brown eyes. He was always complimented for this. But the Puma was humble. Rather than flaunt his fur, he simply thanked and moved on.
But, as he grew up, something changed. His other animal friends became jealous of his fur. In an effort to make him feel less than them, they would toss dirt into his fur or push him into mud, tarnishing his silver fur. Until finally, rather than laugh and move on, he did something he never thought he could.
He bit back.
His friends were shocked. Why would he do this? Had he become crazy? They were only joking with him. Making his fur dirty and treating him like nothing was all a prank, they would argue. But the Puma knew the truth.
They were jealous.
His hair became gray.
One of his eyes became gray.
He decided to run away from his home and find somewhere else. He became so desperate to find somewhere new, he would accept the next land he came across. He stopped when he saw a new place that was teaching animals; by this time he was a teenager, reaching close to adulthood. His hair was matted and had twigs.
This new land was a more barren desert. It wasn't like the lush land of his old home, but he was content. He became a part of them and learned more about becoming a mature creature. Perhaps he could make new friends. But immediately, he noticed many facts.
There were only a few main animals there; sheep, monkeys, and bulls.
The monkeys were those who found learning to be meaningless, and preferred to play games, steal, and cheat their way through life.
The bulls were those who were too stubborn to be taught, and felt they already had the skills, when in reality, all they knew was how to run forward.
Finally, the sheep. The sheep fell between the bulls and monkeys. They followed the rest not because they wanted to or thought it was right, but because they thought it was acceptable or expected of them. Sure, they had their own personalities and interests. But if it meant going to the latest party that meant nothing in the long run, or joining a group just to belong, they would accept it. They would accept being established as a certain title or clichè.
The Puma would not.
He realized he was truly alone in this place. Rather than focusing on friends in this desert, he focused on becoming an adult and maturing, to leave this place. Eventually, he grew a disdain for the other bulls, sheep, and monkeys. "Why should others tell me how to act and control my interests, just for a few friends?" He saw the bigger picture that no one else could. He focused on getting stronger, and he did. He focused on getting faster, and he did. He focused on getting smarter, and he did.
His hair became black.
His once warm brown eyes became a cold gray.
As his skills sharpened, other animals would finally take notice of him. They would finally take a glance and come to understand his grandeur, even if only for a moment.
But the hardened Puma would not look back. He had his goals now, but he wanted to be known. He no longer wanted everyone to see him as a friend, but a predator that should be feared. He gained a voice now. With an explosive roar fueled by a broken heart, he openly dared anyone to challenge his strength. The time to be hidden and secluded was over. The bulls, of course, were the first to accept.
They charged him with all of their might. But the Puma was smarter. He jumped over them, letting them smash into the trees and boulders across the desert.
The monkeys were next. They used their jeers and clever insults to bring him down. But the Puma was not effected. He already knew what it was like to be dejected. With a mighty paw, the monkeys were sent flying to the ground from their high palm trees.
Now there was the sheep. With the bulls and monkeys losing the challenge, the sheep had no one to follow but the Puma. They pleaded for his friendship, and to teach them how he became so strong, fast, and smart.
His only reply was a rage and sorrow-filled roar. It was too late for them to be his friend, he would say. He added that they only want to save their soft, brittle hides. He spoke of how their ways of following others disgusted him to his core. Before he could end the challenge for good, another roar from the distance could be heard. The Puma paused, wondering who here could produce such a powerful sound.
A silver Lion stood tall and proud, just like the Puma.
The Puma would question, "Who are you, strong Lion?"
The Lion would reply, "I am you, Puma. We were one and the same, only I did not allow the animals of the lush land to taint my thoughts. I ignored the teasing, and helped them become honorable adults. If you want to be as strong as me, do the same."
The Puma would openly laugh, his grey eyes glaring coldly, "Stronger than the Puma? There is no such thing." he would boast. "I am greater than the bulls, sheep, and monkeys. You are not so different.
The Lion replied, "This is true, you are greater than the bulls, sheep, and monkeys. But I know your life, Puma. You are indeed, the victim. Let me show you."
The Puma bared his fangs and lunged. The two engaged in a long, powerful match of skill. They were moving so precise and strong that the defeated bulls, monkeys, and sheep that watched could not keep up with their eyes.
However, the Lion was the one who won. What's more, while the Puma had scratches and bleeding, the Lion remained untouched.
The Puma hung his head and begged, "Finish me, Lion. You have won the challenge."
The Lion shook his head, "That is not the way of the Pride. The Pride are all of the fierce animals, such as Panthers, Leopards, and Cheetahs. Pumas, as well. In this way, we are brothers. Rather than put down others, we must help those in need. That does not mean you have to be their friend. It also does not mean they should fear you. Do you understand now, Puma?"
The Puma nodded and rose, "I do understand, Lion."
And so, the Puma would become silent. From then on, he would assist those in need, without befriending them. He did not desire the acceptance that many did, until he became an adult and moved on with the next stage of life. He would start anew in other lands, regaining the sense of friendship he felt long ago.
His hair became light silver.
His eyes turned brown.
I do remember giving this to my teacher as an English story assignment. After telling her what it meant, she became emotional. Though she was known for reacting intensely.
If you would like me to talk about what this means, I will do so another time. What do you think I meant in this story?
Anonymous
Friday, November 29, 2019
The Naughty or Nice Elf
This is an experience that I hope everybody might enjoy.
After school when I was then starting to be a senior in High School, my family needed me to get a part-time job. Which was a security officer gig at our little mall. This was some time ago, the mall later went bankrupt since then because the town was too little. I was tall so I looked official, but also we wore uniforms and walked around like we was the police.
This funny thing happen during the Christmas holidays. The Mall Management set up a big chair for Santa Claus, plus Christmas trees and fake snow, and a sign that it was Santa's Village. They hired some young kids to be Elves and help with the children. The Elves got all dressed up in bright red outfits with gold vests and gold glittery shoes with weirdo curled toes.
It was a rule, to check the rest rooms ever so often. These Rest rooms did not have a door only a long hall way.
Going in on this day, here is what I could see. Room empty except one stall busy. The stall door is closed. Look down and see his feet. Standing in the stall was a pair of gold curly shoes and bright red pants. ALSO something else!
This naughty little Elf is standing at the toilet. And down on the floor, I see the shadow of his arm and hand busy going constantly back and forth! Instantly anybody would know what was happening. Some Elf was doing his thing, pounding his boner in the stall. I guess he thought it would be a secret place to make a quickie shot! Not moving a muscle I just can't quit looking. It was almost funny watching the shadow of Elf boy jacking off, but it also gave me a stiff one. He goes on jerking which was so easy to tell. It went on for another minute or so, sometimes stroking slow but sometimes he did it faster. Then Lil' Mr. Elf made a noise and goes up closer to the crapper. Then he stands still for a moment, but his breaths were deep and he exhaled kinda loudly. I next heard the rattle of the dispenser, so he unrolled some TP for his spooge clean-up. Okay show's over, time for me to sneak out. I am still giggling quietly, he had made his cum-shot and never knew anyone heard the whole thing.
Figuring out which elf was easy. Letting him have a head start, in a few minutes I passed the Santa Claus Workshop. There was just one elf there today. He didn't have any cum spots on his clothes I smiled at my elf.
When I was that age I sure remember how bad a boy sometimes needs to do it. Hoping the elf and his red pants and gold shoes had a nice happy time draining his dragon in the restroom without knowing, he made my day.
Thank you Mr. Elf.
After school when I was then starting to be a senior in High School, my family needed me to get a part-time job. Which was a security officer gig at our little mall. This was some time ago, the mall later went bankrupt since then because the town was too little. I was tall so I looked official, but also we wore uniforms and walked around like we was the police.
This funny thing happen during the Christmas holidays. The Mall Management set up a big chair for Santa Claus, plus Christmas trees and fake snow, and a sign that it was Santa's Village. They hired some young kids to be Elves and help with the children. The Elves got all dressed up in bright red outfits with gold vests and gold glittery shoes with weirdo curled toes.
It was a rule, to check the rest rooms ever so often. These Rest rooms did not have a door only a long hall way.
Going in on this day, here is what I could see. Room empty except one stall busy. The stall door is closed. Look down and see his feet. Standing in the stall was a pair of gold curly shoes and bright red pants. ALSO something else!
This naughty little Elf is standing at the toilet. And down on the floor, I see the shadow of his arm and hand busy going constantly back and forth! Instantly anybody would know what was happening. Some Elf was doing his thing, pounding his boner in the stall. I guess he thought it would be a secret place to make a quickie shot! Not moving a muscle I just can't quit looking. It was almost funny watching the shadow of Elf boy jacking off, but it also gave me a stiff one. He goes on jerking which was so easy to tell. It went on for another minute or so, sometimes stroking slow but sometimes he did it faster. Then Lil' Mr. Elf made a noise and goes up closer to the crapper. Then he stands still for a moment, but his breaths were deep and he exhaled kinda loudly. I next heard the rattle of the dispenser, so he unrolled some TP for his spooge clean-up. Okay show's over, time for me to sneak out. I am still giggling quietly, he had made his cum-shot and never knew anyone heard the whole thing.
Figuring out which elf was easy. Letting him have a head start, in a few minutes I passed the Santa Claus Workshop. There was just one elf there today. He didn't have any cum spots on his clothes I smiled at my elf.
When I was that age I sure remember how bad a boy sometimes needs to do it. Hoping the elf and his red pants and gold shoes had a nice happy time draining his dragon in the restroom without knowing, he made my day.
Thank you Mr. Elf.
Wednesday, November 27, 2019
His Hand Felt So Good
Some readers may think this was abuse but it gave me a huge thrill ever time it happened. I was masturbated by a young chiropractor.
My parents sent me to him because I had a crick in my neck from a football game. He had me remove everything except my jockey shorts, then draped me with a sheet. He would work on all my joints. The first time he did me, he had been working near my crotch, which had given me a hard-on. He moved the sheet and said he was going to check my privates because it was normal for a guy like me to become erect during an adjustment, and some guys needed very private help before leaving. I had never heard the word "erect," but immediately understood what he meant.
The dude wrapped one hand carefully around the lump in my underwear and told me he would take care of my situation if I wanted him to.
What can I say? His hand felt so good. He slid my jockeys down and began manipulating my dick. I'd had friendly wanks with some of my buds, but this was different. I was so hard, so very horny. Pretty soon I told him that I was cumming. He held the sheet close to my dick and I climaxed in a flurry of squirts. "Wow," he said.
I would tell my parents every week or so that I needed to see the chiropractor. He would give me the full range of professional adjustments and then ask if I wanted him to continue. Getting my approval, he brought me to wonderful ejaculations. He continued to "treat" me throughout high school.
I never felt abused. Quite the opposite. For this nice young professional man to take a private interest in my sexuality pleased me to no end.
The dude wrapped one hand carefully around the lump in my underwear and told me he would take care of my situation if I wanted him to.
What can I say? His hand felt so good. He slid my jockeys down and began manipulating my dick. I'd had friendly wanks with some of my buds, but this was different. I was so hard, so very horny. Pretty soon I told him that I was cumming. He held the sheet close to my dick and I climaxed in a flurry of squirts. "Wow," he said.
I would tell my parents every week or so that I needed to see the chiropractor. He would give me the full range of professional adjustments and then ask if I wanted him to continue. Getting my approval, he brought me to wonderful ejaculations. He continued to "treat" me throughout high school.
I never felt abused. Quite the opposite. For this nice young professional man to take a private interest in my sexuality pleased me to no end.
Anonymous
Making A Friend
During the time that I was around 12, 13 and 14 I was highly curious about the hidden assets of other boys. I went out of my way to peek at them. Not to the extent of getting a bad reputation, but still curious about how they were hung - and whether they did that cool thing to their dick that I liked to do to mine. My dad was transferred around a lot from one base to another, and of course other families came and went also. So there were plenty of guys rotating in and out for me to observe - and a few to trade jerks with. Sharing a wank with another guy was a supreme achievement for me and I mentally awarded myself points every time fate gave me a new jacking buddy..
The PE showers and locker room were okay places to look at guys, but there was a lot of danger that you would be noticed if you stared around the room. My favorite venue was a certain school restroom. I positioned myself at a urinal or wash basin where I could get a quick look at a pissing guy out of the corner of my eye. Very rarely my spying resulted in a nice mutual jack. Usually all I accomplished was a quick glimpse of a pissing dick and a general idea of its size and shape.
Enter Lee. He showed up one day while I was hanging out in the cafeteria restroom when I was supposed to be in the library. I was waiting for somebody to come in.
Lee was a stranger, an eighth grader a year ahead of me. He was Black, tall, skinny, and wore a bunch of dreadlocks all over his head
.
Lee went to the urinal next to the lavatory and pissed. Having assessed these situations before, I knew that my best chance for a sneaky look was to stand at the sink and slowly wash my hands while peeking sideways at my target.
Meanwhile Lee finished urinating. But he kept standing at the pisser. He made no move to cram his dick back into his pants. Instead, while I watched to see what was up with the dude, he made a number of adjustments to his exposed dick. He moved it up and down, then sideways. Shook it. Then stood still while it unmistakably began to rise. He had sensed what I was up to, and was giving me all the spy time that I could handle. The guy was putting on a show for me, displaying his stiff erection!
I was instantly hard but unsure what to do. I could unzip my pants and flop out my own stiffening dick - but people don't unzip at a lavatory. I could walk around the dude and stand at the other urinal, but that would be a very obvious statement of interest. Meanwhile I knew that Lee had turned things around and I was now the one being watched.
Lee's dick continued to rise and lengthen, giving me a real eye full. He stepped an inch or so back from the urinal. Then he spoke in sort of a soft voice with a southern accent: "Mind if I wiggle my thing?"
I could not answer, couldn't speak, was totally blown away. I think I gestured at his dick with my hand, giving him permission to go ahead, but I'm not sure. I wanted to say "Go for it," but nothing came out.
Lee didn't wait for me to reply. He began slowly moving his hand back and forth along his erect peter, gradually pivoting to partway face me as he jacked. He spoke again, this time in a sort of pleading whisper: "You gonna do it?"
As if hypnotized I unzipped my fly, maneuvered my erection out into the open, and found Lee staring at me just as I had planned to look atunder Cloud him. Within seconds the two of us were masturbating side-by-side, taking strength from each other and making sure that each of us could observe every stroke.
Within seconds I was approaching orgasm, whispering "Coming! Coming!" to Lee and hearing him answer "Ooh! Ooh!"
I shot first, intending to squirt the stuff into the basin, but I was turned partway toward Lee and my load sent multiple spurts between the urinal and the lavatory. Each spurt was a momentous ejaculation, shooting its way through my dick, repeating my climactic sensations with each wad. Load after load hit the tile wall and slid toward the floor. Lee stared at my spurting dick, his mouth slightly open.
Lee reached his own pinnacle within seconds, squirting into his urinal and making his own climax noises.
Beginning at that moment Lee and I were best buds until his father was transferred someplace else. I once asked the guy how he happened to put the make on me that day in the restroom. His answer: "You were kind of obvious."
Thunder Cloud
The PE showers and locker room were okay places to look at guys, but there was a lot of danger that you would be noticed if you stared around the room. My favorite venue was a certain school restroom. I positioned myself at a urinal or wash basin where I could get a quick look at a pissing guy out of the corner of my eye. Very rarely my spying resulted in a nice mutual jack. Usually all I accomplished was a quick glimpse of a pissing dick and a general idea of its size and shape.
Enter Lee. He showed up one day while I was hanging out in the cafeteria restroom when I was supposed to be in the library. I was waiting for somebody to come in.
Lee was a stranger, an eighth grader a year ahead of me. He was Black, tall, skinny, and wore a bunch of dreadlocks all over his head
.
Lee went to the urinal next to the lavatory and pissed. Having assessed these situations before, I knew that my best chance for a sneaky look was to stand at the sink and slowly wash my hands while peeking sideways at my target.
Meanwhile Lee finished urinating. But he kept standing at the pisser. He made no move to cram his dick back into his pants. Instead, while I watched to see what was up with the dude, he made a number of adjustments to his exposed dick. He moved it up and down, then sideways. Shook it. Then stood still while it unmistakably began to rise. He had sensed what I was up to, and was giving me all the spy time that I could handle. The guy was putting on a show for me, displaying his stiff erection!
I was instantly hard but unsure what to do. I could unzip my pants and flop out my own stiffening dick - but people don't unzip at a lavatory. I could walk around the dude and stand at the other urinal, but that would be a very obvious statement of interest. Meanwhile I knew that Lee had turned things around and I was now the one being watched.
Lee's dick continued to rise and lengthen, giving me a real eye full. He stepped an inch or so back from the urinal. Then he spoke in sort of a soft voice with a southern accent: "Mind if I wiggle my thing?"
I could not answer, couldn't speak, was totally blown away. I think I gestured at his dick with my hand, giving him permission to go ahead, but I'm not sure. I wanted to say "Go for it," but nothing came out.
Lee didn't wait for me to reply. He began slowly moving his hand back and forth along his erect peter, gradually pivoting to partway face me as he jacked. He spoke again, this time in a sort of pleading whisper: "You gonna do it?"
As if hypnotized I unzipped my fly, maneuvered my erection out into the open, and found Lee staring at me just as I had planned to look atunder Cloud him. Within seconds the two of us were masturbating side-by-side, taking strength from each other and making sure that each of us could observe every stroke.
Within seconds I was approaching orgasm, whispering "Coming! Coming!" to Lee and hearing him answer "Ooh! Ooh!"
I shot first, intending to squirt the stuff into the basin, but I was turned partway toward Lee and my load sent multiple spurts between the urinal and the lavatory. Each spurt was a momentous ejaculation, shooting its way through my dick, repeating my climactic sensations with each wad. Load after load hit the tile wall and slid toward the floor. Lee stared at my spurting dick, his mouth slightly open.
Lee reached his own pinnacle within seconds, squirting into his urinal and making his own climax noises.
Beginning at that moment Lee and I were best buds until his father was transferred someplace else. I once asked the guy how he happened to put the make on me that day in the restroom. His answer: "You were kind of obvious."
Thunder Cloud
Monday, November 25, 2019
It Started with.......A Tummy Lick
I think my first proper blow-job was when I was eight. The boy in the bed next to mine crawled into my bed and started licking my tummy and then worked his way down. He obviously knew what he was doing, though I hadn't a clue - perhaps surprising, as I had been playing with my neighbour girls for years.
I may not have had a clue what he was doing - but I for sure liked it. This went on for the rest of the term, with improvements. Sadly, the next term we were in different dormitories, and he had a new best friend. But…![]()
I may not have had a clue what he was doing - but I for sure liked it. This went on for the rest of the term, with improvements. Sadly, the next term we were in different dormitories, and he had a new best friend. But…
Was I too much of a nerd?
My favorite place was the branch library near my house. I did homework there, hunted for books to read, and kept an eye on the narrow little hall that went down to the restrooms.
The regular jerkers were a mixture of junior high boys, high school boys, and young men. A guy would step into the rest room. and pretty soon someone else would go right in after. But sometimes someone was in there waiting for an interested guy. If nobody came out you could go in and hear whispery voices.
One funny thing. If we ran into one of our restroom buddies at school or out shopping with mom, totally ignored them like we had never met.
Anonymous Nerd
Saturday, November 23, 2019
Could I feel Yours?
The story "Church Lesson" illustrates how very uninformed many of us were when we reached puberty.
I, for example, had no clue that my penis could make things happen in my body. And I certainly could not imagine touching and exploring another boy's prick, even though I might have curious. To top it off, I didn't know that doing private things with a pal could increase your emotional attachment to that friend.
My moment of realization came while I was spending the night with a friend. We were in seventh grade by then, inseparable pals, "Besties". But we did not know that word nor what it could mean.
We were lying in bed when "Johnny" started talking very softly. He wanted to know if he could ask me a private question. I told him to go ahead. What he asked me was very simple, but it would propel us from ignorant little boys into horny adolescents, eventually from best friends into jacking buddies: "Does your thing ever get long and hard?"
His question shocked me. But I whispered a positive answer: "Yeah."
We just lay there silently for maybe five minutes. Then Johnny whispered that his thing was hard that very moment. It wouldn't go down and it was keeping him from going to sleep.
By then I was feeling of my own peter which was also stiff. I whispered that news to Johnny.
Johnny said he wanted to ask me another question, and please not to get mad. I told him okay. He took a breath and very hesitantly said, "Could I feel yours? just to see if it's like mine?"
I don't need to go into the details. Within a few minutes we had overcome our initial embarrassment and we were curiously touching and wiggling each other's stiffies, as well as tickling our sensitive little balls.
Do you readers remember that first moment of secret contact? The feel of the other boy's boner? The little rounded sphere of his balls? The strange sensations while he gently felt of you?
We were not yet over the pubertal line; at least I don't think we were. If we were capable of climaxing and ejaculating we didn't know it, so we satisfied our curiosity by doing our best to enjoy the arousal in our groins.
When morning came I was still hard and I'm sure Johnny was too. We did not mention what we'd done during the night, but the next time one of us slept over with the other guy we rapidly resumed our sex play, and this time we whispered back and forth about what we were doing.
It was months, maybe a year, before I ejaculated. That was something entirely new and I could hardly wait until the next overnighter to enjoy it with Johnny.
"Could I feel yours?" is the question that got it all started. Man, how dumb and totally uninformed we were the night we dared to touch each other.
Anonymous
I, for example, had no clue that my penis could make things happen in my body. And I certainly could not imagine touching and exploring another boy's prick, even though I might have curious. To top it off, I didn't know that doing private things with a pal could increase your emotional attachment to that friend.
My moment of realization came while I was spending the night with a friend. We were in seventh grade by then, inseparable pals, "Besties". But we did not know that word nor what it could mean.
We were lying in bed when "Johnny" started talking very softly. He wanted to know if he could ask me a private question. I told him to go ahead. What he asked me was very simple, but it would propel us from ignorant little boys into horny adolescents, eventually from best friends into jacking buddies: "Does your thing ever get long and hard?"
His question shocked me. But I whispered a positive answer: "Yeah."
We just lay there silently for maybe five minutes. Then Johnny whispered that his thing was hard that very moment. It wouldn't go down and it was keeping him from going to sleep.
By then I was feeling of my own peter which was also stiff. I whispered that news to Johnny.
Johnny said he wanted to ask me another question, and please not to get mad. I told him okay. He took a breath and very hesitantly said, "Could I feel yours? just to see if it's like mine?"
I don't need to go into the details. Within a few minutes we had overcome our initial embarrassment and we were curiously touching and wiggling each other's stiffies, as well as tickling our sensitive little balls.
Do you readers remember that first moment of secret contact? The feel of the other boy's boner? The little rounded sphere of his balls? The strange sensations while he gently felt of you?
We were not yet over the pubertal line; at least I don't think we were. If we were capable of climaxing and ejaculating we didn't know it, so we satisfied our curiosity by doing our best to enjoy the arousal in our groins.
When morning came I was still hard and I'm sure Johnny was too. We did not mention what we'd done during the night, but the next time one of us slept over with the other guy we rapidly resumed our sex play, and this time we whispered back and forth about what we were doing.
It was months, maybe a year, before I ejaculated. That was something entirely new and I could hardly wait until the next overnighter to enjoy it with Johnny.
"Could I feel yours?" is the question that got it all started. Man, how dumb and totally uninformed we were the night we dared to touch each other.
Anonymous
Friday, November 22, 2019
The Millennial Locker Room
I started middle school in the early 2000’s. Our gym was a fairly new building and the locker room did have a few showers but they were little cubicles where you would go in, lock the door and you could shower and get changed in complete privacy.
So I guess like the first commenter mentioned, I can confirm that for us the open-group showering in most schools has had its day sadly.
Also it was a requirement to change clothes before gym class but not to shower. Changing clothes took place in a group setting in the locker room but the most you would get a glimpse of would be a fellow student in his underwear or shirtless while changing clothes. Nobody ever showered and if they did it was locked away.
Anonymous
So I guess like the first commenter mentioned, I can confirm that for us the open-group showering in most schools has had its day sadly.
Also it was a requirement to change clothes before gym class but not to shower. Changing clothes took place in a group setting in the locker room but the most you would get a glimpse of would be a fellow student in his underwear or shirtless while changing clothes. Nobody ever showered and if they did it was locked away.
Anonymous
Wednesday, November 20, 2019
What happened to our favorite locations?
Not only "What happened to my friends?" but I also think we sometimes lose the places that we meet-up "What happened to our favorite locations?"
When I discovered visual sex and later an occasional nervous hook-up with another dude, it was in one of the largest shopping malls ever constructed. The mall had big restrooms in two of its wings. And every large department store had its own restrooms. That mall was a reliable place for a guy to get his nuts off while out-maneuvering the trolls.
However on a recent trip back to the city, I was astounded to find that the entire mall has been plowed under. The parking lots remain but there's no sign of the mall or its stores. I found that truly hard to believe after spending a big part of my youth ejaculating within those walls.
Anonymous
Hrmm, Food court rest-rooms seem to have a wide selection of visitors.
E-
When I discovered visual sex and later an occasional nervous hook-up with another dude, it was in one of the largest shopping malls ever constructed. The mall had big restrooms in two of its wings. And every large department store had its own restrooms. That mall was a reliable place for a guy to get his nuts off while out-maneuvering the trolls.
However on a recent trip back to the city, I was astounded to find that the entire mall has been plowed under. The parking lots remain but there's no sign of the mall or its stores. I found that truly hard to believe after spending a big part of my youth ejaculating within those walls.
Anonymous
Hrmm, Food court rest-rooms seem to have a wide selection of visitors.
E-
How We Said, "I Love You."
Readers, this one I discovered while reviewing blog posts. I feel it makes a prominent statement about being a guy, young or old we often surround ourselves with the people we deeply appreciate, yet the words escape us.
Eric
When I was at about the same age of these guys depicted in this story, I was talking with a buddy about how strange it was that among our circle of close friends how we were constantly insulting, tackling and punching each other, often not gently at all. He said something I've never forgotten. -
"You know" he said "how girls always hold hands and walk arm-in-arm with their friends? Well, trading insults and punches is what we do. It's how we say we love one another."
That was the word he used, "Love". It had no sexual connotation; it was simply a statement of an emotional fact. If I may paraphrase, "You never again have friends like you do when you're twelve."
Anonymous
Eric
When I was at about the same age of these guys depicted in this story, I was talking with a buddy about how strange it was that among our circle of close friends how we were constantly insulting, tackling and punching each other, often not gently at all. He said something I've never forgotten. -
"You know" he said "how girls always hold hands and walk arm-in-arm with their friends? Well, trading insults and punches is what we do. It's how we say we love one another."
That was the word he used, "Love". It had no sexual connotation; it was simply a statement of an emotional fact. If I may paraphrase, "You never again have friends like you do when you're twelve."
Anonymous
The Crossing of Ages
An anonymous reader wanted to share this with everyone. The Author of the poem is unknown according to him. I did not vet it through the Google, but I will allow it.
E~
There is what has gone,
And there is what is yet to come.
They join at a moment
We call today.
The past and the future
Are neither better than each other
Nor worse than each other.
They are merely different
From each other.
To deny an old man
The importance of the past
Is no less callous
Than to deny a young man
The mystery of the future.
Thus we meet at the present,
Choosing between two prayers:
One we call laughter
Or one we call tears.
Handle the past reverently
For it has already been the future.
(Author unknown)
E~
There is what has gone,
And there is what is yet to come.
They join at a moment
We call today.
The past and the future
Are neither better than each other
Nor worse than each other.
They are merely different
From each other.
To deny an old man
The importance of the past
Is no less callous
Than to deny a young man
The mystery of the future.
Thus we meet at the present,
Choosing between two prayers:
One we call laughter
Or one we call tears.
Handle the past reverently
For it has already been the future.
(Author unknown)
A Sleepover for Two Content Pals
The following is the apparent final update by the Dad who's son, is coping with an extra curious friend. Which you can read up on previous events of their First Sleepover and the sons next Sleepover with a different Buddy. This post represents the details of a daring second Sleepover with the overtly curious and busy handed friend. This shows a great deal of courage by the young man, willing to forgive his friends invasive hands, and challenging him to summon a level respect in their friendship. I also suspect the author's son allowed his own curious mind to reach exploration mode, just slightly.
Enjoy -
E
I think I can end this now by telling all your readers that Friday night's sleepover went surprisingly well.They hung around our house most all day on Saturday like they had become best buddies. And shockingly, I heard them showering together on Saturday morning! So yesterday I asked my son how the sleepover went, and that I heard them both in the shower together. (My son had already made it clear to this boy in advance that if he came over there would be "no funny business" like he tried last time.)
My son said, on Friday night when they were getting ready for bed, he said to his friend, "If you want to see it, here, look at it, but that's all. Okay?" and with that my son took off his underpants and just stood there before putting on the shorts he was going to sleep in. He said his friend then asked him if he wanted to see his, and my son said, "Not really, but okay if you want to." (Then my son smiled and proudly said to me, "Dad, mine's a lot bigger than his!") He said they talked a lot more in bed, but absolutely no touching or anything else. But they decided from what they know is normal in school, that guys seeing each other naked is okay, and guys showering together is okay. But touching is not.
I have no idea where this relationship will go from here, but I think my son has grown a lot in the last couple of months in understating different people can think differently, and that's okay.
Anonymous Dad
A Wicked Ambush
Some stories on here remind me of something that happened when I was a little kid. I was a city boy, never been camping or fishing or out into the boonies. Friend of mine invited me to go on a camp-out with a boys club from his church. I was nine which was the lowest age you could get into that group.
During the day, we went to a private landing on a lake. Something I didn't expect, there were no restrooms, none at all. After we had been there for a while I needed to pee real bad. I asked my friend about bathrooms. There were some bigger boys with us, teenagers that were supposed to sort of mentor us little guys. My friend asked one of the big guys where do we Pee? He said to just go into the bushes and pee on the ground. Believe it or not, I had never done that.
My friend went with me. We went way into the trees for privacy. I think we were halfway embarrassed about what we were going to do, and scared too. Exposing our privates in such a wild setting, and having this random direction by these teen boys, was just so crazy to us. We stood a little distance away from each other to get our peters out. I was right in the middle of pissing when there was a god-awful noise that scared me to death. Some of those teenagers had followed us. They snuck up on us and let off a blast from an air horn like you hear at ball games. I pissed all over myself, just really soaked myself. Don't know how I did it, but I soaked my shirt and pants with my own pee, and my underpants too.
The big boys thought that was real funny. They nearly died, falling all over each other and pointing at me. I was trying to get my little dickie back into my wet pants because they were looking at me. I could tell they really enjoyed their trick. A counselor told me to change my clothes. He chewed out the big guys but they still laughed and pointed whenever they saw me. When I needed to pee again I went off without telling anybody and kept a close look for guys trying to ambush me.
Anonymous
During the day, we went to a private landing on a lake. Something I didn't expect, there were no restrooms, none at all. After we had been there for a while I needed to pee real bad. I asked my friend about bathrooms. There were some bigger boys with us, teenagers that were supposed to sort of mentor us little guys. My friend asked one of the big guys where do we Pee? He said to just go into the bushes and pee on the ground. Believe it or not, I had never done that.
My friend went with me. We went way into the trees for privacy. I think we were halfway embarrassed about what we were going to do, and scared too. Exposing our privates in such a wild setting, and having this random direction by these teen boys, was just so crazy to us. We stood a little distance away from each other to get our peters out. I was right in the middle of pissing when there was a god-awful noise that scared me to death. Some of those teenagers had followed us. They snuck up on us and let off a blast from an air horn like you hear at ball games. I pissed all over myself, just really soaked myself. Don't know how I did it, but I soaked my shirt and pants with my own pee, and my underpants too.
The big boys thought that was real funny. They nearly died, falling all over each other and pointing at me. I was trying to get my little dickie back into my wet pants because they were looking at me. I could tell they really enjoyed their trick. A counselor told me to change my clothes. He chewed out the big guys but they still laughed and pointed whenever they saw me. When I needed to pee again I went off without telling anybody and kept a close look for guys trying to ambush me.
Anonymous
Tuesday, November 19, 2019
The Last Clean Generation of Boys
I just want to say that in the 1991/1992 school year, I was 13 years old, and in the 8th grade. We took showers after P.E., everyone took showers. The 6th grade guys took separate showers from the 7th and 8th graders, but they still showered after Gym.
The so called nerds showered right next to the bullies, the rich kids showered with the poor kids, the black kids next to the white kids and so on. It was the great equalizer we were all wet, we were all naked and we were all in various stages of puberty.
I noticed penises the growers and showers, I saw boners, and I saw shrinkage. Sometimes when a guy would shrink he'd play with himself until his penis semi-hardened into a respectable size. If a guy had a boner he'd try to hide it. I saw the circumcised and the intact guys. In the shower we'd throw wet towels, whip each other, make dirty jokes. But one thing that rarely happened was publicly commenting on another kid's dick. In my school it just wasn't done, it was considered gay to notice although I know most kids were at least glancing at the other naked boys in the shower.
I even suspect that one of our P.E. coaches looked at his fair share of boy's privates but never did anything other than glance. All of this looking at each other and we just weren't allowed to acknowledge it out loud. I think sadly I was among the last generation of kids in that particular school to take showers.
I graduated Middle School and when I got to High School showers were optional. I would gladly take a shower, but hardly anyone else did. In truth, the football team and swim team took showers. It was for that reason alone, I considered joining one of the team sports, ultimately I never did.
The last time I went to my old middle school the showers were being used as storage areas, the shower heads now neglected and corroded. I miss that time we had in the showers, I miss seeing so called 100 per cent straight kids day in and day out, who were clearly staring at as many dicks as possible. The way you could be observed to be on the small side or on the large side...yet nobody made any comments. I miss borrowing cologne from a pal after the shower and feeling so fresh after P.E.. The shower was one of the things that I strangely looked forward to everyday. I hope somewhere in North America kids are still taking showers at school. I'd hate to actually be the last generation to experience this.
Anonymous
The so called nerds showered right next to the bullies, the rich kids showered with the poor kids, the black kids next to the white kids and so on. It was the great equalizer we were all wet, we were all naked and we were all in various stages of puberty.
I noticed penises the growers and showers, I saw boners, and I saw shrinkage. Sometimes when a guy would shrink he'd play with himself until his penis semi-hardened into a respectable size. If a guy had a boner he'd try to hide it. I saw the circumcised and the intact guys. In the shower we'd throw wet towels, whip each other, make dirty jokes. But one thing that rarely happened was publicly commenting on another kid's dick. In my school it just wasn't done, it was considered gay to notice although I know most kids were at least glancing at the other naked boys in the shower.
I even suspect that one of our P.E. coaches looked at his fair share of boy's privates but never did anything other than glance. All of this looking at each other and we just weren't allowed to acknowledge it out loud. I think sadly I was among the last generation of kids in that particular school to take showers.
I graduated Middle School and when I got to High School showers were optional. I would gladly take a shower, but hardly anyone else did. In truth, the football team and swim team took showers. It was for that reason alone, I considered joining one of the team sports, ultimately I never did.
The last time I went to my old middle school the showers were being used as storage areas, the shower heads now neglected and corroded. I miss that time we had in the showers, I miss seeing so called 100 per cent straight kids day in and day out, who were clearly staring at as many dicks as possible. The way you could be observed to be on the small side or on the large side...yet nobody made any comments. I miss borrowing cologne from a pal after the shower and feeling so fresh after P.E.. The shower was one of the things that I strangely looked forward to everyday. I hope somewhere in North America kids are still taking showers at school. I'd hate to actually be the last generation to experience this.
Anonymous
Monday, November 18, 2019
A Secret Church Lesson
One Sunday I had a real hard boner during church service. I told my mother I needed to go to the restroom. I was about 13 and not yet aware of masturbation. When I got to the restroom two bigger boys were already there. I wanted privacy so I could try to make my boner get soft. They kept telling me to hurry and piss and go back to church.
After while one of them said he could not wait any longer. He went to the urinal and started feeling of his dick. In a minute his bud joined him and they were obviously having a nice little party touching one another. By then I was so erect that it was painful. Soon one of the other guys asked me if I ever jacked off.
It didn't take long until they let me join their little group. They were jacking at full speed and telling me to watch. I shot my first wad while they pumped themselves and gave me advice. When my stuff came shooting out they told me "You did it."
After it was all over they both cautioned me again and again that what I had learned was the world's biggest secret and I should never ever let anybody know that I knew how to do it.
They now accepted me as a pal even though I was younger. They would motion me to follow them to the restroom. The three of us messed around a lot and helped each other shoot our loads.
Anonymous
After while one of them said he could not wait any longer. He went to the urinal and started feeling of his dick. In a minute his bud joined him and they were obviously having a nice little party touching one another. By then I was so erect that it was painful. Soon one of the other guys asked me if I ever jacked off.
It didn't take long until they let me join their little group. They were jacking at full speed and telling me to watch. I shot my first wad while they pumped themselves and gave me advice. When my stuff came shooting out they told me "You did it."
After it was all over they both cautioned me again and again that what I had learned was the world's biggest secret and I should never ever let anybody know that I knew how to do it.
They now accepted me as a pal even though I was younger. They would motion me to follow them to the restroom. The three of us messed around a lot and helped each other shoot our loads.
Anonymous
Bush Pumpin'
My grandfather was a retired dentist. When I was in high school he still owned a small office building, but it was vacant. Every so often I drove by the office and make sure everything looked okay. The property was surrounded by tall hedges along the front and sides, with only one driveway to enter or exit the parking lot.
One day I drove in and immediately saw two boys standing tightly together in one corner of the hedges. From the street they were invisible, but there they were, hiding in the bushes and now looking at me with huge eyeballs.
The office was a couple of blocks from a middle school and the boys were clearly "that age." They ran like hell. To me it was a very funny situation. What would two middle school boys be doing in an empty parking lot surrounded by tall bushes?
Very likely they were busy with a private matter. I was pretty sure I'd interrupted them while they were assisting each other with a secret project to stroke their erect little seventh or eighth grade stiffies.
Io them my arrival meant serious danger of getting caught and reported to their parents or even the police, so they sprinted out of that little parking lot like the devil himself was after them.
I began driving through Grandpa's property more frequently, generally ten or fifteen minutes after school let out. But I never saw another pair of boys collaborating in the corner of the bushes.
One day I drove in and immediately saw two boys standing tightly together in one corner of the hedges. From the street they were invisible, but there they were, hiding in the bushes and now looking at me with huge eyeballs.
The office was a couple of blocks from a middle school and the boys were clearly "that age." They ran like hell. To me it was a very funny situation. What would two middle school boys be doing in an empty parking lot surrounded by tall bushes?
Very likely they were busy with a private matter. I was pretty sure I'd interrupted them while they were assisting each other with a secret project to stroke their erect little seventh or eighth grade stiffies.
Io them my arrival meant serious danger of getting caught and reported to their parents or even the police, so they sprinted out of that little parking lot like the devil himself was after them.
I began driving through Grandpa's property more frequently, generally ten or fifteen minutes after school let out. But I never saw another pair of boys collaborating in the corner of the bushes.
Saturday, November 16, 2019
The Plenty O' Peter Parade
I remember one day when the sewer line stopped up. It was during showers at the end of 8 th grade gym. The showers overflowed into the locker room and up through the drains all over the bottom floor. Coach was running through the water yelling "Turn 'em off! Turn 'em off!"
He made us grab our clothes and walk through the flood out into the gym which was still dry. Guys that were not dressed were trying to hide their dicks because Coach kept saying he would take this whole parade of us naked butts past the Home-Ec room if we didn't shut up. Most of us thought it was funny heck, and teased the bashful ones for their modesty, and accused them of being undersized of course.
So anyway everybody got dressed in the gym and had to go outside and around the building to get back to classes. This one guy that was kind of a loud mouth about everything hollered out "See what happens when you pump it in the shower?"
Anonymous
He made us grab our clothes and walk through the flood out into the gym which was still dry. Guys that were not dressed were trying to hide their dicks because Coach kept saying he would take this whole parade of us naked butts past the Home-Ec room if we didn't shut up. Most of us thought it was funny heck, and teased the bashful ones for their modesty, and accused them of being undersized of course.
So anyway everybody got dressed in the gym and had to go outside and around the building to get back to classes. This one guy that was kind of a loud mouth about everything hollered out "See what happens when you pump it in the shower?"
Anonymous
Soaping-Off with Bro
Reading this person write about “soaping off” brought back some special memories for me. I first heard that term in early 7th grade when I was first required to take showers with other boys in school. Sometimes there would be 8th grade boys in the showers with us, and I heard some boys saying that they were “soaping off” or some boys would seem to say that other boys were “soaping off” in the shower, but they would deny it. For me, I hadn’t even started masturbating yet and I didn’t even know what it was. I honestly concluded that I thought the phrase “soaping off” meant that you were rinsing the soap off. I thought that “soaping off” must mean the same thing as “rinsing off” at the end of your shower.
Not too long after that, I was home taking a shower and my mother was upset that it seemed to be taking me a very long time. (I wasn’t doing anything special in the shower, I was just being slow.) My 14-year-old brother was also nearby in his bedroom. My mom yelled through the door “What’s taking you so long? When are you going to be done?” I then yelled back from the shower, “I’m soaping off! I’ll be finished in a minute or two!” When I then left the bathroom and went into my room wrapped in a towel, my brother met me and was hysterically laughing. I remember he said to me, “Dude, what are you doing telling mom that you’re jerking off in the shower?!?” (This was even more confusing to me because I didn’t know what “jerking off” meant, either.)
My brother then had a very special discussion with me, explaining to me all about masturbation. He assumed by what I had said in the shower that I not only already knew about it, but that I was already doing it. He then seemed surprised that I was so clueless. He explained to me that “soaping off” was a way to masturbate using a bar of soap and a soapy hand to, as he put it, “get the job done”. He of course got me very curious as to what jerking off was all about, and what it felt like. I later tried to do it to myself, but was not successful. I asked my brother for more advice as to how to do it, and he showed me. First on himself (I remember my shock and amazement at his big spurts of strange new stuff shot out of him), and then doing it on my dick. Wow! What a feeling! Only about three little drops came out, but that was my discovery of what "soaping off" really meant.
Anonymous
The Shower Time Monitors
We lived for a short time in a small town that had only three schools: elementary, intermediate, and high. That year I was at the intermediate campus, which was for grades 6-9. There were only two coaches for the whole school system, one male and one female. They ran all the sports teams and all the PE classes.When I was in seventh grade our PE class was last period, very end of the day. Which was also when the high school teams began their practice. The male coach supervised us getting changed at the beginning of PE and then he hustled over to the high school group to run the drills. The female coach directed our PE activities. But then came time to undress and shower, which (no matter how far "equality" has come) the female coach could not command that role.
So three ninth-grade boys were selected by the two coaches to supervise us seventh graders at the end of the period. Those boys joined in with our class in whatever work-outs the lady coach assigned us. So the "big" boys needed showers also, in addition to keeping order in the shower room.
At the same time we seventh graders were stripping and lathering up, the three ninth grade dudes did exactly the same thing, right in front of us, no pretense of modesty. They undressed with us, showered with us, and put their street clothes back-on with us.
A few comments have been posted here about the difference in development between boys of various ages. We were seventh graders, most of us were around 12. The shower room monitors were ninth graders, 14 or 15. I guarantee we got an eye-full. The bigger boys walked casually through the locker room in total nudity. They showered in front of us and walked naked to their lockers. They stood around naked while talking.
We knew they did it on purpose to show off their goods. Now, being ninth graders, their junk was not fully man-size grown yet. But they let all of us see what they did have. And we all looked! We talked about their crotches in whispered conversations. They had hair - half-grown patches of pubes, but still it was hair. They had baggy balls - genuine cojones, not little marble bags. Their dicks were an inch or so longer than ours and bigger around. Their pricks kind of swung back and forth when the boys walked. Instead of a spritely wiggle that ours did as we scampered from the showers to our lockers.
We also learned a whole new vocabulary, and a way of talking that was never heard at home sort of like an insult, but gobs funnier. It was Big Guys Speak....something in-between accusation and approval to us littler dudes.
And what we heard was "Hey, shorty! Did you get your nuts off last night? Don't wait too long between jerks or you'll get blue balls!"
"Hey You, Green plaid boxers! Wanna try on one of the high school cheerleaders tonight? I'll put in a good word for you....... when I'm finished with her."
"Hey Kid, drying your butt! I need a good blow job! Are you open for business?"
"Clifford! Quit rubbing the front of your shorts. Your firecracker might go off and we'd have to drag you back to the showers and clean you up."
Besides joshing us they played off each other like a trio of comedians: "Watch out for Randy, here. He's horny today. Needs a volunteer to help him shoot a good load. Anybody got a warm hand?"
To which Randy would answer, "Shut your nasty mouth. You can suck me later."
"You lil' dudes ain't seen nothing yet. Wait till Deshaun does a hula dance with a boner going!"
"Well, that would be most any time 'cuz I've always got a boner!"
We loved it. They put on a real show for us. Not only that, but we learned something new every day and couldn't wait to have a private conversation and secret jerk with our besties.
Anonymous
So three ninth-grade boys were selected by the two coaches to supervise us seventh graders at the end of the period. Those boys joined in with our class in whatever work-outs the lady coach assigned us. So the "big" boys needed showers also, in addition to keeping order in the shower room.
At the same time we seventh graders were stripping and lathering up, the three ninth grade dudes did exactly the same thing, right in front of us, no pretense of modesty. They undressed with us, showered with us, and put their street clothes back-on with us.
A few comments have been posted here about the difference in development between boys of various ages. We were seventh graders, most of us were around 12. The shower room monitors were ninth graders, 14 or 15. I guarantee we got an eye-full. The bigger boys walked casually through the locker room in total nudity. They showered in front of us and walked naked to their lockers. They stood around naked while talking.
We knew they did it on purpose to show off their goods. Now, being ninth graders, their junk was not fully man-size grown yet. But they let all of us see what they did have. And we all looked! We talked about their crotches in whispered conversations. They had hair - half-grown patches of pubes, but still it was hair. They had baggy balls - genuine cojones, not little marble bags. Their dicks were an inch or so longer than ours and bigger around. Their pricks kind of swung back and forth when the boys walked. Instead of a spritely wiggle that ours did as we scampered from the showers to our lockers.
We also learned a whole new vocabulary, and a way of talking that was never heard at home sort of like an insult, but gobs funnier. It was Big Guys Speak....something in-between accusation and approval to us littler dudes.
And what we heard was "Hey, shorty! Did you get your nuts off last night? Don't wait too long between jerks or you'll get blue balls!"
"Hey You, Green plaid boxers! Wanna try on one of the high school cheerleaders tonight? I'll put in a good word for you....... when I'm finished with her."
"Hey Kid, drying your butt! I need a good blow job! Are you open for business?"
"Clifford! Quit rubbing the front of your shorts. Your firecracker might go off and we'd have to drag you back to the showers and clean you up."
Besides joshing us they played off each other like a trio of comedians: "Watch out for Randy, here. He's horny today. Needs a volunteer to help him shoot a good load. Anybody got a warm hand?"
To which Randy would answer, "Shut your nasty mouth. You can suck me later."
"You lil' dudes ain't seen nothing yet. Wait till Deshaun does a hula dance with a boner going!"
"Well, that would be most any time 'cuz I've always got a boner!"
We loved it. They put on a real show for us. Not only that, but we learned something new every day and couldn't wait to have a private conversation and secret jerk with our besties.
Anonymous
Fans of the Piss Game
My first experience of Physical Education in School did not happen until I hit 6th grade. There were about 100 boys spread between 6th through 8th grade, so all the ages were mixed among about 3 separate P.E. classes.
In the locker room is was just a mixed bag of every sort and type of boy in the stages of puberty. We had City boys and Farm boys, big tall lanky kids, and shorter stout guys. We all dressed or undressed together, and of course there were the showers. I don’t remember any boy being bashful about his privates. We shucked our gym shorts and jocks, and paraded into the showers. This is where nothing could be hidden. Some big tall kids had smooth little ones and tight balls, and then some shorter guys had fat ones with a big bush and some swinging balls down low.
Some took turns trying to piss furthest from a chosen spot to the wall across from the shower heads. Guys lined up to compete or watch. The goal was to piss higher up than the 4th row of tiles counting from the floor. We learned the first spurt of our piss stream had the best chance to win. I think one kid made it to row 7 but he never backed it up with a second successful piss as high. The piss game became quite the attraction during showers. Most boys developed at-least a semi hard, and some guys were full-on hard through their entire shower. There were about 35 boys in and out of the showers in my class, and hardly a single one didn’t have an erection.
I always looked forward to Phys Ed, because I knew what was going to be on display, all those naked guys.
Enhancing the Bond Between Boys
During my elementary and junior high years, I would stay with my friend and his family for a few days several times each year when my Dad would have to go out of town for work. The next time I stayed with them was around eight weeks after Boy Scout camp. Since the school year had already started, and since my stay was over weeknights, we observed his parents structure and routine. After dinner, we played video games for a little while, then it was time for showers, homework, and a 10:00 bed time.
He had a bunk bed in his room. He was sleeping on the bottom, and I was on the top. Since camp, we would talk about other aspects of the week but kept our vow to never mention the experience of the first time we jacked off. However, on this evening, a little while after going to bed, he whispered “Are you awake.” I was. He asked if I had ever done it again. “Yes, two and sometimes three times a week.” He said that he was similar. We discussed techniques and methods of keeping cum from making a mess.
I climbed out of bed. To avoid getting caught, he put his lamp under a cover and turned it on so we just had limited light but could see well enough. We took off our shirts and then, after some hesitation, pulled down our boxers. We were now standing less than a foot apart completely naked staring at each other’s hard on. Unlike at camp, where we would have to be discreet when checking people out, we had no reservation about staring at each other’s penis.
Now it was his turn to ask the bold question. “Do you want to see what each other’s feels like?” That made me nervous but I also found the idea to be very intriguing. “Um, OK.”
He pulled an extra sheet out of his closet and laid it out on the carpet in front of us. He knelt to the side of me and started to feel. He rubbed the inside of my upper legs, rubbed and juggled my balls and touched my dick a couple times but said that he wasn’t ready for me to cum yet, that he wanted to tease me some more. It felt exhilarating to have him touch me like that. Finally, he said it was time for me to cum. He rubbed my tip a little bit then made a ring with his fingers and stroked. It only took a matter of seconds and I was shooting off on to the sheet. It was humbling to be made to do it by my friend, as well as for him to watch me do it, but it also felt great.
We then wiped off our dicks, stuffed the sheet in his closet, put our boxers and t shirts back on, and went to bed.
The following morning, we had to hurry to get ready for school and did not have time to talk about what we had done. We were able to talk that afternoon. We concluded that we were probably not the first guys in the world to have done that. We were pretty sure that it didn’t make us moral deviants who should be locked in an institution to protect society. We agreed that it felt really good and made it more exciting to have the other guy’s fingers touching us than when we would use our own hands. We also agreed that the humility of giving up control of our dicks and being made to cum by the other guy heightened the sensation. We weren’t embarrassed. We had been close friends for several years, and it seemed that this was something that enhanced the bond between us.
The following morning, we had to hurry to get ready for school and did not have time to talk about what we had done. We were able to talk that afternoon. We concluded that we were probably not the first guys in the world to have done that. We were pretty sure that it didn’t make us moral deviants who should be locked in an institution to protect society. We agreed that it felt really good and made it more exciting to have the other guy’s fingers touching us than when we would use our own hands. We also agreed that the humility of giving up control of our dicks and being made to cum by the other guy heightened the sensation. We weren’t embarrassed. We had been close friends for several years, and it seemed that this was something that enhanced the bond between us.
As I went back to my house that evening, I wondered if the previous night’s activity would be a one-time thing, or if we would do it again.
Mick
Mick
"IT" Happened in the Shower
Like a bite of the forbidden fruit, once a guy gets the first tasty bit of the good stuff..... It's ON!!
Eric~
I was a very goody-goody boy in my early years. I didn't have any secrets from my parents, nor anything to be ashamed of. Until "It" happened one day. I was twelve and just taking a normal shower when I realized that I was giving my stiff little prick a lot more attention than usual. I ordered myself to stop touching that part of my body, but there was a problem.
My little stiffie was sticking straight out and begging for attention. I soaped it up and gave it some extra rubbing. After a little while I thought, that's enough of that. But Dickie was still stiff. I began a second round of scrubbing. My inflexible weenie felt very strange. I wiggled it, wobbled it and jiggled it. Then the strange feelings spread to my entire body. Quit it! I told myself. And for a moment I did quit. Slowly letting the shower rinse all the soap off my innocent little hard-on. But something drove my hand straight back to my wee erection. Just as I gave my dick a few little pumping motions with my thumb and two fingers, all hell broke loose. My dick pulsed and the strange feelings took control of me, centering in the back of my neck and the small of my back. The feelings scared the shit out of me. And then - - - I can't explain how the next moments felt. It was as if my erect little peter contained a pressurized can that suddenly fired, sending an unprecedented crescendo through my little pee-pee and making me stagger back from the water spray.
What the heck had happened? Why did I feel so peculiar? I wrapped my hand around my little dick and tiny balls. They felt slimy. Yet I had rinsed them off! What in God's name? The next chapter of this story is that I "experimented" the next night. And soon my "experiments" turned into a compulsion. I looked forward to my nightly showers because I knew I was going to do a very private and secret thing to myself. I was going to make my little dickie shoot out that strange sticky stuff. I made it happen every night. And I loved it. Loved it every night in the shower, and suddenly had a secret. Nobody knew my secret. Not my parents, not my friends, just me. And how I loved that excellent moment when the secret stuff shot out of little Dickie and splattered on the tile.
Anonymous
Eric~
I was a very goody-goody boy in my early years. I didn't have any secrets from my parents, nor anything to be ashamed of. Until "It" happened one day. I was twelve and just taking a normal shower when I realized that I was giving my stiff little prick a lot more attention than usual. I ordered myself to stop touching that part of my body, but there was a problem.
My little stiffie was sticking straight out and begging for attention. I soaped it up and gave it some extra rubbing. After a little while I thought, that's enough of that. But Dickie was still stiff. I began a second round of scrubbing. My inflexible weenie felt very strange. I wiggled it, wobbled it and jiggled it. Then the strange feelings spread to my entire body. Quit it! I told myself. And for a moment I did quit. Slowly letting the shower rinse all the soap off my innocent little hard-on. But something drove my hand straight back to my wee erection. Just as I gave my dick a few little pumping motions with my thumb and two fingers, all hell broke loose. My dick pulsed and the strange feelings took control of me, centering in the back of my neck and the small of my back. The feelings scared the shit out of me. And then - - - I can't explain how the next moments felt. It was as if my erect little peter contained a pressurized can that suddenly fired, sending an unprecedented crescendo through my little pee-pee and making me stagger back from the water spray.
What the heck had happened? Why did I feel so peculiar? I wrapped my hand around my little dick and tiny balls. They felt slimy. Yet I had rinsed them off! What in God's name? The next chapter of this story is that I "experimented" the next night. And soon my "experiments" turned into a compulsion. I looked forward to my nightly showers because I knew I was going to do a very private and secret thing to myself. I was going to make my little dickie shoot out that strange sticky stuff. I made it happen every night. And I loved it. Loved it every night in the shower, and suddenly had a secret. Nobody knew my secret. Not my parents, not my friends, just me. And how I loved that excellent moment when the secret stuff shot out of little Dickie and splattered on the tile.
Anonymous
Thursday, November 14, 2019
Squeezy-Jiggly Attention
This is certainly not in the league with the long novel that is being posted, but anyway it is a BS (boy sighting). I was at a low-budget clothing store where I find bargains. A woman with several little kids was holding up a pair of small boys' pants. She said to the littlest guy, "You better try these on."
Instead of going to a changing room, she stripped the little dude's own pants off right in the sales area. He was so small that he couldn't be seen above the counters of merchandise. But there he was in my line of sight, standing in his white briefs. Mom was slow getting the new pants ready for him to try on, and he took advantage of the time to cup his hand around his privates and give himself some squeezy-jiggly attention.
Just a quick picture of complete innocence.
Anonymous
Requiem for the End of Boyhood
Today (Memorial Day) the public pools here opened for the summer. I frequently sun and swim at the pool in our neighborhood, hiding my eyes behind sunglasses while appreciating the lovely young male scenery. Today I made a sad observation. One of my favorite young men has gone over the hill, so to speak. He has been a presence at the pool for many years, beginning as a little kid, changing from childhood into pre-pubertal boyhood and then into the brief years of beautiful young adolescence, gloriously fit and tan, unmistakably aware of himself in a way that he never was before.
He was back today, inaugurating the pool season with scores of other kids and families. Sadly, though, nature's taken him over the hump. He hasn't controlled his weight, for one thing. He's beefy. His belly has a roll of unbecoming flab hanging over the waistband of his trunks. His voice is a little too commanding, a little too deep. And to top it off, he's got a suspicious shadow on his upper lip.
You were so handsome just after puberty, my friend, so beautiful in your seasons of discovery. Fortunately there's a new crop of guys coming up behind you. I wish you well. You've made a giant leap this past year and clearly left the past behind. How quickly it happened. Oh, I'll still encounter you at the pool, but the moment of perfection has slid out of grasp. You never knew how your youthful beauty blessed me, and suddenly that brief hypnotic post-pubertal handsomeness is gone.
Anonymous
He was back today, inaugurating the pool season with scores of other kids and families. Sadly, though, nature's taken him over the hump. He hasn't controlled his weight, for one thing. He's beefy. His belly has a roll of unbecoming flab hanging over the waistband of his trunks. His voice is a little too commanding, a little too deep. And to top it off, he's got a suspicious shadow on his upper lip.
You were so handsome just after puberty, my friend, so beautiful in your seasons of discovery. Fortunately there's a new crop of guys coming up behind you. I wish you well. You've made a giant leap this past year and clearly left the past behind. How quickly it happened. Oh, I'll still encounter you at the pool, but the moment of perfection has slid out of grasp. You never knew how your youthful beauty blessed me, and suddenly that brief hypnotic post-pubertal handsomeness is gone.
Anonymous
Not a Speck of Attention Needed Yet
Last evening we were out for a casual dinner. A burger-and-wings place with outdoor dining, and a sand-box play area for little kids. There was a band playing on the deck, and nearby was a family situated between me and the band, so any time I looked at the band my eyes had to look past this family. There was a cute little kid in this family, I'd say he was probably a 7th grader. He had loose shorts on and sport socks, and the way he was seated I got this terrific view of the side of almost his entire right leg. How he was seated, his shorts had risen up, so I could see almost his entire bare thigh. I could also see his entire crotch area.
He was a beautiful, handsome blonde boy with a terrific smile and dazzling blue eyes. We were close enough that I could hear him speak, and his voice either had not started to change, or had not yet changed very much. But he was of the size and apparent age that changes certainly must have already started in his pants, even if not the least bit obvious unless one was to somehow be there to see him showering.Grin....
Not a once did I ever see him grab, rub, or adjust himself. His little friend gave him no difficulties at all last night, and apparently commanded not one speck of his attention (except when he got up to use the restroom). But I got to enjoy his beautiful soft golden skin, going almost all the way up his leg...his smile, and his youthful beauty.
Spot Check
A real funny thing happened yesterday. It was registration day at the middle school. I took my nephew to register because my sister and her husband both work. The building was teeming with young adolescents and their parents. After we got his schedule and supply list, we were walking along a hallway. Up ahead was a sign over a doorway. It said "Boys."
Just on impulse, I told my nephew I had to make a pit stop. Actually, I wanted to look around in that room just because of the overall environment plus what I remember about myself at that age. Well, my "look" paid off. In one of the stalls was a series of sticky-looking squirts of cum. From these gooey blasts a few narrow, moist trails slowly oozed their way down the metal partition to drip on the floor.
Voila! Classes haven't even started and middle school boys are doing what middle school boys do!
Anonymous Uncle
Just on impulse, I told my nephew I had to make a pit stop. Actually, I wanted to look around in that room just because of the overall environment plus what I remember about myself at that age. Well, my "look" paid off. In one of the stalls was a series of sticky-looking squirts of cum. From these gooey blasts a few narrow, moist trails slowly oozed their way down the metal partition to drip on the floor.
Voila! Classes haven't even started and middle school boys are doing what middle school boys do!
Anonymous Uncle
Do the Bump
I was at a home improvement store shopping for hardware and happened to notice a heart-warming little scene. an African-American family was looking at washing machines, mom and pop in their 30's and a handsome young dark-brown boy, slightly short but apparently about 12 or 13, casually dressed and sporting a sort of "scroll" design trimmed in the temples of his short hair. The boy was standing right at the corner of a washer, facing it at a 45-degree angle. He was perhaps three or four inches back from the appliance, alertly watching his parents and the salesman in the next aisle.
And how was this handsome young man occupying his time? He slowly rocked forward from his ankles, bumped the fly of his pants against the corner of the washing machine, and kind of bounced back. The alignment of his zipper with the vertical edge of the washer was precise. He continued this bumping activity throughout the time that it took me to pass the appliance department: rock toward corner of washing machine, bump fly with a sort of springy motion, bounce back. Repeat.
Later I saw them in another part of the store. As the boy walked along, there was unmistakably a vertical bulge behind his zipper as if he had a roll of coins in his underwear. His bulging zipper kind of preceded him as he walked, his fly leading the way through the store. That was twice he had made me smile.
The little guy reminded me of the comments on oots4u months or years ago by readers who spoke of positioning their adolescent boners vertically behind their zippers in hopes that the erections would be less noticeable.
One has to wonder: If left undisturbed in the appliance department, would the lad have kept bumping his bulging fly against the washer until he produced a climactic celebration of his young manhood?
Anonymous
And how was this handsome young man occupying his time? He slowly rocked forward from his ankles, bumped the fly of his pants against the corner of the washing machine, and kind of bounced back. The alignment of his zipper with the vertical edge of the washer was precise. He continued this bumping activity throughout the time that it took me to pass the appliance department: rock toward corner of washing machine, bump fly with a sort of springy motion, bounce back. Repeat.
Later I saw them in another part of the store. As the boy walked along, there was unmistakably a vertical bulge behind his zipper as if he had a roll of coins in his underwear. His bulging zipper kind of preceded him as he walked, his fly leading the way through the store. That was twice he had made me smile.
The little guy reminded me of the comments on oots4u months or years ago by readers who spoke of positioning their adolescent boners vertically behind their zippers in hopes that the erections would be less noticeable.
One has to wonder: If left undisturbed in the appliance department, would the lad have kept bumping his bulging fly against the washer until he produced a climactic celebration of his young manhood?
Anonymous
The Lad in the Lorry
I had a similar incident to this story just yesterday.
I was walking my dogs and walked past a builders van parked up. In the passenger seat I noticed a very handsome boy, around 14. He held his phone in his hands and had both his knees pulled up whilst resting on the dashboard. It looked uncomfortable and I could guess he had done so to hide his erection. Poor boy was obviously waiting for his Dad doing a job. I saw parts of his attire, which was thin grey pants that were limp and flimsy, not the easiest of clothes to hide a teenage boner in. I noticed his fresh clear face stood out magnificently full of charmed innocence.....but perhaps that was a ruse. Was he in the midst of something secretly naughty.
The nature of those rumpled pants, his unusual sitting position, his legs, all built up more curiosity within me. This deserved a resolve. I walked past again a few minutes later and took a longer look-on as I walked past. He still had one leg up and the other down and although he was trying to be casual I could see the bump in his crotch.
When I left for work a couple minutes later the van was gone. I would have loved to be in an apartment above looking down into the van, I bet he had a good play when he suspected nobody was looking! But what would he do if he knew someone was looking? Would the relentless display continue. Would he act out and be upset or angry. Perhaps the tyke might quickly hide all the business and pretend nothing had happened.
I think he probably finished suitably with the skills of a learned pro, well before Dad arrived to drive away.
Anonymous
I was walking my dogs and walked past a builders van parked up. In the passenger seat I noticed a very handsome boy, around 14. He held his phone in his hands and had both his knees pulled up whilst resting on the dashboard. It looked uncomfortable and I could guess he had done so to hide his erection. Poor boy was obviously waiting for his Dad doing a job. I saw parts of his attire, which was thin grey pants that were limp and flimsy, not the easiest of clothes to hide a teenage boner in. I noticed his fresh clear face stood out magnificently full of charmed innocence.....but perhaps that was a ruse. Was he in the midst of something secretly naughty.
The nature of those rumpled pants, his unusual sitting position, his legs, all built up more curiosity within me. This deserved a resolve. I walked past again a few minutes later and took a longer look-on as I walked past. He still had one leg up and the other down and although he was trying to be casual I could see the bump in his crotch.
When I left for work a couple minutes later the van was gone. I would have loved to be in an apartment above looking down into the van, I bet he had a good play when he suspected nobody was looking! But what would he do if he knew someone was looking? Would the relentless display continue. Would he act out and be upset or angry. Perhaps the tyke might quickly hide all the business and pretend nothing had happened.
I think he probably finished suitably with the skills of a learned pro, well before Dad arrived to drive away.
Anonymous
State of Urgency
Last summer being in the center of Warsaw, I’ve got a text from the client, and had to send him an offer by e-mail. I hate to browse Internet on my mobile, as it is too small for me, so I rushed to the bus stop to go home urgently. On my way to the bus unexpectedly near an Internet Cafe. I presumed this would be a quicker opportunity to sit my customer. On a ground floor there was a computer and mobile phone shop, and on mezzanine there were six rows of ten years old crummy computers and the some CRT monitors, but it was enough to send a simple e-mail. I sat in a corner and started to read a message from my client.
Few minutes later I saw a teen boy climbing the stairs. He was max sixteen years old, dressed in a navy blue t-shirt and shorts. I am sure that he haven’t seen me and was sure to be alone there. He took a place in another corner and I returned to reading request from my client. Few minutes later I was attracted by silent moaning and deep breathing. I couldn’t see the boy’s face as it was covered by the big, old monitor, but I could see everything under the table. So I saw the legs wide spread and boy’s hand massaging his crutch, than unzipping his shorts. I nice, young hard dick popped out and he started to wank furiously. His nice ball were jumping up and down and it took him less than a minute to explode with large amount of cum, which covered his hand and few drops felt to the floor. With his right hand he was searching pockets but without result. As I always have with me a pack of tissues, I approached him and hanged it over to him. Poor boy was totally shocked! He looked at me with a horror in his young eyes, and couldn’t say a word.
- Calm down, man. Clean yourself and don’t forget about floor – I said in a low voice with a grin on my face, and returned to my place.
Two minutes later he came to me, returning the rest of tissues. His face was red as watermelon and his voice trembling.
- Thank you sir – he whispered – will you Out-me to the staff?
- Tell them about what? That you have a hay fever and needed tissues? Relax, boy. I was happy to be able to help you in need – I said calmly with a smile.
- Very kind of you, sir. Thank you – he said, smiled hesitantly, than left in a hurry.
I returned to my e-mail. Later on I laughed when I thought about urgency.
I had to answer urgently my client, so I used public computer, although I had my own at home. I am sure that that boy had his own computer too, but found himself in a state of such great urgency, that he needed any computer right now. Finally I came to the conclusion, that there are different urgencies in a man’s life.
Carlo57
Wednesday, November 13, 2019
The Prime Example
I was 10 when I asked my 14 year old cousin in front of his friends what sperm was. I genuinely didn't know and I heard one of his friends use the word.
He told me to shut up, and I said that I really wanted to know. My cousin and his friends laughed at me some more before telling me that sperm is stuff that squirts out of your dick. "Like pee?" I asked and that made them laugh once again. If it wasn't pee then I wanted to see it. "Can you show me?" my cousin replied "What the @$#!% ?"
He kicked me out of the room right then and there but when his friends left and we were alone he swore me to secrecy and told me to hold out my hand. He blew his load into my hand and I watched it shoot into the palm of my hand and all over my fingers, I felt it, I smelled it, couldn't bring myself to taste it but my curiosity was satisfied and as promised I never told any of our relatives or his friends nor any of my friends.
Anonymous
He told me to shut up, and I said that I really wanted to know. My cousin and his friends laughed at me some more before telling me that sperm is stuff that squirts out of your dick. "Like pee?" I asked and that made them laugh once again. If it wasn't pee then I wanted to see it. "Can you show me?" my cousin replied "What the @$#!% ?"
He kicked me out of the room right then and there but when his friends left and we were alone he swore me to secrecy and told me to hold out my hand. He blew his load into my hand and I watched it shoot into the palm of my hand and all over my fingers, I felt it, I smelled it, couldn't bring myself to taste it but my curiosity was satisfied and as promised I never told any of our relatives or his friends nor any of my friends.
Anonymous
When to do it?
A recent BS, I was at a restaurant yesterday, and saw a family of 5.
Mom and dad, two girls probably ages 11 and 13, and an adorably cute boy, probably 14. He wasn't entirely a nerd, but he had glasses, well creased Khaki shorts and a Polo, indicating he is probably enrolled in a parochial school and they had a school funtion on Saturday. He was just geeky enough, that I doubt any girls are paying him much attention. However, I can see he sure has potential
At one point the boy got up to use the restroom. As he left the table I saw him take a good grab at himself, possibly making an adjustment. He came back quite fast, so I doubt he did anything but "the usual" in the men's room.
I just started wondering if he can find enough privacy at home, with those two younger sisters always there, and complaining why he takes so long to shower every day. Perhaps even a public place is a welcome opportunity. I don't suspect that he tool that chance today, but I walked to the restroom to survey the possible aftermath, all clear.
Mom and dad, two girls probably ages 11 and 13, and an adorably cute boy, probably 14. He wasn't entirely a nerd, but he had glasses, well creased Khaki shorts and a Polo, indicating he is probably enrolled in a parochial school and they had a school funtion on Saturday. He was just geeky enough, that I doubt any girls are paying him much attention. However, I can see he sure has potential
At one point the boy got up to use the restroom. As he left the table I saw him take a good grab at himself, possibly making an adjustment. He came back quite fast, so I doubt he did anything but "the usual" in the men's room.
I just started wondering if he can find enough privacy at home, with those two younger sisters always there, and complaining why he takes so long to shower every day. Perhaps even a public place is a welcome opportunity. I don't suspect that he tool that chance today, but I walked to the restroom to survey the possible aftermath, all clear.
Giving Josh a Shower
One summer when I was home from college my aunt and uncle and their kids came for a few days. My 14-year-old nephew "Josh" had broken his leg, poor guy, and was wearing a heavy cast. He clunked back and forth on crutches and looked miserable. A bunch of us were sitting around not doing much of anything when Josh turned to his mother and said "Ma, I want to take a shower."
They looked around for Josh's dad to help him in the bathroom, but he and my father had gone off somewhere. His mother announced that he'd just have to wait until the men got home.
Without even consulting me, Josh called my name and told his mother that I could help him. She asked me if I minded, and of course I told her it was fine.
Josh sat down on the toilet lid with his bum leg sticking out. He was wearing a pair of old bluejeans with the leg seam cut open all the way from bottom to crotch. It was held closed with safety pins which had to be unfastened one at a time - an awkward feeling as I got close to his crotch. Finally the jeans were off. Josh had already removed his shirt and his one shoe and sock. All that remained were a pair of standard white briefs which the two of us worked together to slide down the length of the cast - awkward moment number two.
As the briefs descended they revealed a patch of light brown pubes followed by a dick that was about half-way through its pubertal growth spurt. And then a loose dangle of ribbed scrotum. I was tempted to say "Whoa! Nice junk, Josh." But of course I remained as objective as possible and never let my eyes linger where they shouldn't.
While his package came into view Josh flashed his eyes at me momentarily. I could never prove it, but I think he was silently telling me something like this: "Remember when I was a little boy tagging around after you? Well now I'm way past that. Just look at what I've got here!"
I could be wrong, but I think he truly wanted me to appreciate what I was seeing.
The shower was the third awkward moment. He was supposed to keep the cast outside of the tub, so I had to help support him while he soaped up and rinsed off. When it was over I helped him dry off.
Then came the most awkward moment of all, getting a fresh pair of undies up the cast, over the other leg, onto his butt and around his mid-section. When that was done he paused to adjust his junk with both hands before we wrestled the jeans onto his legs.
Neither one of us put a toe out of line, nor would I have dared to even think of such a thing. But I still believe Josh was showing off for me.
Anonymous
They looked around for Josh's dad to help him in the bathroom, but he and my father had gone off somewhere. His mother announced that he'd just have to wait until the men got home.
Without even consulting me, Josh called my name and told his mother that I could help him. She asked me if I minded, and of course I told her it was fine.
Josh sat down on the toilet lid with his bum leg sticking out. He was wearing a pair of old bluejeans with the leg seam cut open all the way from bottom to crotch. It was held closed with safety pins which had to be unfastened one at a time - an awkward feeling as I got close to his crotch. Finally the jeans were off. Josh had already removed his shirt and his one shoe and sock. All that remained were a pair of standard white briefs which the two of us worked together to slide down the length of the cast - awkward moment number two.
As the briefs descended they revealed a patch of light brown pubes followed by a dick that was about half-way through its pubertal growth spurt. And then a loose dangle of ribbed scrotum. I was tempted to say "Whoa! Nice junk, Josh." But of course I remained as objective as possible and never let my eyes linger where they shouldn't.
While his package came into view Josh flashed his eyes at me momentarily. I could never prove it, but I think he was silently telling me something like this: "Remember when I was a little boy tagging around after you? Well now I'm way past that. Just look at what I've got here!"
I could be wrong, but I think he truly wanted me to appreciate what I was seeing.
The shower was the third awkward moment. He was supposed to keep the cast outside of the tub, so I had to help support him while he soaped up and rinsed off. When it was over I helped him dry off.
Then came the most awkward moment of all, getting a fresh pair of undies up the cast, over the other leg, onto his butt and around his mid-section. When that was done he paused to adjust his junk with both hands before we wrestled the jeans onto his legs.
Neither one of us put a toe out of line, nor would I have dared to even think of such a thing. But I still believe Josh was showing off for me.
Anonymous
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