Adult Image Library 1/Adult_Image_Library_Volume_1.iso/stories/bend03.txt

Text File | 1996-04-15 | 19KB | 341 lines

... a story of a young boy's coming of age...

Introduction Revisited

My name is Kyle Spencer and I am a twenty-year-old freshman at university.   I
am studying language arts and my life long dream is to be a writer.  A teacher
in my private prepatory school once told me that the world's greatest writers
draw best from their own experiences.  So, in this first effort, I am sharing
with you a truthful and open account of my memories of a very different coming
of age.  You might find it strange, familiar or maybe even bizzare in parts,
but it is a true and lengthy account.  "Truth is stranger than fiction."

Now please enjoy ... A Bend in the Road, Part 3

Chapter Eight:
Show and Tell

I began to read a lot in the school library and from my encyclopedia
set.  I also had an old copy of Dr. Spock's best-selling child care book that
I snuck out of our house.  I knew about things like circumcision, genitals,
the importance of toilet training, what to tell your children about sex . . .
but I hadn't begun to initiate anything beyond looking.  Nothing physically
sexual, anyways.  With others or myself.  I guess I didn't understand the
mechanics.

My first hint came just before I was sent to Shawnigan, I was playing
with a girl my age in her bedroom when she suddenly pulled me down on top of
her, on her bed.  We were both fully clothed but her dress had ridden up so
her undies were exposed and that excited me.  I was embarrassed so I tried to
get up and she promptly pulled me down on her again.  I tried again and she
pulled again.  I began to get a funny feeling where my little penis rubbed
against my underpants and her groin.  As we kept this up I got more and more
excited until I was suddenly tingling over my whole body and my penis seemed
to be pushed hard against my pants.  Overwhelmed and a bit scared, I slumped
down on top of her, breathing fast, trying to stop the motion from going any
further.  I stayed that way until she was ready to push me off.

I had read about masturbation.  I tried to rub my penis with my hand
once, but nothing much happened.  Maybe I didn't do it properly.  At the very
least, I wasn't much interested, being mostly caught up in the new school
experience.  Not interested, that is, until I met Chris.  His presence seemed
to spark something in me, like a match to gasoline.  I guess you could say
that he exuded a budding sexuality, an aura of "experience" beyond all the
other boys in our class and grade.  And I was truly intrigued.

It happened that one day after class and before supper, I was hiking by
myself in the bush near the school.  We weren't really supposed to venture
from the school grounds, but everybody did anyways.  I liked being alone out
in the woods.  It exilerated me and my imagination soared out there.  I was an
explorer and "cour de bois" making my northwest passage to the China Sea.
Along the way I collected dry twigs and bits of wood to make a fire for my
imaginary meal of beaver and skunk cabbage.


As I rounded a bend in the road that leads to the pond, I saw
Christopher alone by the bridge.  He didn't see me so I ducked into the bushes
at the side.  My adventure instantly became that of an international spy,
collecting evidence for counter-intelligence.  He seemed to be fishing, his
rod propped against the side of the bridge.  He was standing awkwardly near
this end of the bridge looking up and down the road.  The air was suddenly
very still and warm.  He looked around one last time and then walked into the
bush on the same side of the road as I was.  My detective sense picked up that
something was going to happen.  The wind picked up a bit and the leaves
rustled noisly.  Being a good investigator and a cub scout, I decided to make
my way carefully towards him.  The sound of the wind in the trees would mask
my approach.  I also wanted to spy on him since he intrigued me so.  Perhaps I
would learn how to make him like me.

I came up on him slowly, watching his figure in sections as he moved
past the many trees.  He had moved deeper into the bush, about 10 yards from
the road when he stopped.  The last few feet I crawled on my hands and knees,
being ever so careful not to make a sound.  I was close enough I could see
everything, but I had to keep my head down, for fear of discovery.

Chris stopped and turned first one way and then the next as if he sensed
something.  I kept my head down, trying not to make a sound.  He seemed to
shrug it off.  Next he reached down to the front of his pants.  Slowly, almost
timidly, he undid his top button then zipper.  He pulled his pants down a bit
in front exposing his worn underwear.  I thought it was odd that he had to
take his pants down to pee.  I had pretty much mastered peeing through my fly,
and was quite proud of it.  I still prefered to take my pants right down,
though.

But instead of letting out a golden flow of urine into the bushes in
front, he sighed and began slowly rubbing the front of his cotton underwear
with his hand.  I breathed nervously, somehow realizing the illicitness of
what I was about to see.  Chris stopped again to listen to the air, obviously
he was just as nervous about being caught doing it.  He still didn't see me
and resumed an up and down motion on the cotton front of his white underwear.
First with his fingers, then with his open palm and then with the knuckles of
his closed fist.  It was slow at first and his cheeks became flushed and the
front of his pouch pushed out and up.  My own face was flushed and my heart
beat a thousand times a minute.

Chris picked up speed with his rubbing.  He started to breathe more
heavily, moving his hips slowly.  His head tilted slightly back which brought
his chest forward and his hips back in a boyish arch.  His round bum stuck out
more than usual and his knees were slightly bent.  Those wonderful eyes took
on a far away gaze, blinking closed now and again as if he were thinking
deeply about something.  His rubbing slowed and after another quick look
around, he slowly pushed the front of his briefs down with one hand revealing
his penis.

It wasn't huge at all but still bigger than mine.  It wasn't even a
third as big as my father's which I had seen once while changing for the
beach.  His balls seemed a bit larger than mine and hung a little further
down.  I could feel my balls were now tight against my shivering body.  It
also facinated me that he had the tiniest bit of hair just above the base of
his penis.  It looked odd, his thin prick standing up tight against the smooth
whiteness of his belly.  But I recognized it as something to admire.  I had an
odd amount of respect for this unusual display of what I felt was maturity.

Chris clasped his hand around his little penis and began to jerk it up
and down.  It looked like as if it might hurt, but he seemed to be enjoying it
something intense.  Up and down, up and down, faster.  I tried hard to swallow
but my throat was dry.  I couldn't stop myself from coughing.

Chris' head whirled around and I ducked low in the bush.  He was quickly
pulling up his pants, fearing that an adult had caught on to this little game.
Staying low, I tried to scramble further into the bush.  But just as I broke
into a little grassy clearing, I felt his hand clasp my ankle which sent me
tumbling head first onto the ground.

A heavy weight was upon me, pushing my head into the dirt.  The tall
grass made it impossible to see anything and I struggled and squirmed hard.  I
could tell by the hard breathing that Chris was angry, and I was really
scared.

"What are you lookin' at?" he said as he turned me over, still sitting
on my legs.

"I didn't see nothing.  You're hurting my legs."  I thought it best to
play dumb.

"Why are you always spying on me then, Spencer?"

"Get off me.  I wasn't spying!" I squeaked back.

"Not until we're even.  I want a look at yours."  He said this rather
mischeviously.  He began fumbling roughly with my pants.

Chris managed to undo my belt, my pant's top button and started with the
fly.  He was trying to pull down on the front of my pants with the other hand.
I was trying hard to keep them from going down but he was much stronger.  He
held my legs down with his own weight and my arm down with one hand.  I was
embarrassed by this but slightly flushed and excited, putting up only token
resistance.  I knew I was caught and thought if I resisted, I'd probably get
beaten up.

"I wanna see what's in your pants," he said excitedly, still out of
breath.  Just as he was reaching to pull the waistband of my briefs down, I
lifted up with my hips, taking him off balance a bit.  I struggled harder
trying to squirm back around and we wrestled around a bit in the grass.

We struggled a while, rolling close together, but he was strong so I
yelled, "OK, OK.  I'll show you, just get off me.

He stood up and took a step back.  We were both covered in dead grass
and leaves.  Given any other circumstances I would have laughed.  Standing
towards him I pushed my already undone pants down to the knees.  My underwear
was slightly stained yellow in front as the excitement had made me dribble a
bit.  I had to take a leak badly.  I put my small two hands to the waist band
of my white underwear not sure if I should make a break for it or what.

I half expected him to laugh, but his eyes seemed to lose that familiar
sparkle and became deep, dark and fathomless.  He said slowly, "You don't have
to take them down."

"I wouldn't have told anyone," I returned defensively.  I stood there in
my underwear, wondering what he was going to do next.

"I like you Spencer, I don't know why but we could be friends."  It
struck me like a ton of bricks, Chris wanted to be my friend.

"I'm Kyle," I returned as I began pulling my pants back up.

"Ok, Kyle.  If you wanna be friends, we should do it properly.  A fair
play of show and tell to cement our friendship?"  I didn't know what he meant,
but I nodded "yes" anyways.

Taking a quick look around he pulled down his own pants and then his
underwear to just below his hips, exposing his penis again.  "Wanna touch it?"

I was still out of breath but mesmerized and excited by our activity.  I
reached out to touch it with one finger and he pulled back away.  "No, not
like that.  Let me touch yours at the same time," he said.  Slowly I undid my
pants once again and pulled down my underwear, exposing my little member.
Chris stepped closer and grabbed my hand.  He moved my hand onto his penis and
then took hold of mine in his.  We stood there examining each other for a
while and Chris' dick began growing in my hand!  He laughed nervously.

"How does it do that?" I questioned.

"Simple, I get a stiffy when I think about girls and stuff. And I can
make it cum sometimes too." He said this matter-of-factly.

I had to go pee badly and told him so.  Chris asked to watch me.  I was
a bit ashamed but watered the bushes in front of us and Chris seemed to enjoy
this.  It was now getting quite late, I was afraid we'd be missed.

"Look, maybe we could come out here again sometime, Spencer"

"I'd like to.  Maybe we can go fishing too. Oh, I prefer Kyle."

"OK, Kyle.  Friends?"

"Friends."

And so we walked together back to the school.  As we walked we talked
about girls and sex and stuff.  He knew a lot more than me.  Deep down I was
still curious about that first day.  Did he wet the bed sometimes like me?  We
didn't talk about that or what we had done but we agreed not to tell another
soul about that afternoon.




Chapter Nine:
The Dream

After that incident we sort of became friends and he paid a little more
attention to me.  Once, he chose me first for his team in soccer, even though
I'm not the most coordinated athlete.  I helped him with his homework
sometimes, intent on being the one to recognize his potential.  But I still
wasn't allowed to be completely friendly with him at all times, maybe it was
because of my age.  He usually kept his distance unless we were alone or he
was interested in what I was doing.

One day during class, a rumour spread that Chris was going to choose one
friend to accompany him home that weekend, it was his birthday.  This would be
an especially significant honor since his mother lived in Vancouver, on the
mainland and it would mean a trip on the ferry.  Even contemplating the
possibility of a trip with Chris got me very excited.

That night I had a dream that Chris and I were taking the night ferry
across the straight and had to share an old fashioned steamer bed, the kind
that is like a shallow box with sides and a drape that you pull across for
privacy.  Of course night ferries and sleepers don't exist on this line (too
many islands in the water . . . besides, they're large modern car ferries) . .
. but this was a dream.

In the dream Chris and I sat in the bunk facing each other with legs
crossed.  The boat rocked gently back and forth and there was a constant humm
of the motors.  Chris began by removing his shirt. He still had a young boy's
soft clear skin, but was beginning to develop a hint of firmer muscle in his
arms and chest.  Chris reached out and pulled the curtains closed for privacy,
plunging us into darkness.

By sound and motion, I tried to mirror each move of his wishing I could
actually see his body in the deep darkness.  Next came the socks and finally
the pants so we were both naked except for our underwear.

In this dream I remembered wanting to fall and accidently put my head in
Chris's lap, drinking in the distinctively sweet smell of his boyhood groin.
It was still very dark, the way it is inside a box.  You can only make out
pinholes of light breaking through at the corners.  I felt him lift the covers
and we both scooted in, keeping as much apart as we could in the small bed.

We both lay on our backs, contemplating in the darkness of the
compartment.  I felt Chris shift his weight and turn over.  He must have been
falling asleep.  He put his leg over mine and his arm on my chest and I felt
the softness of his underwear brush against my leg.  The proximity of Chris
and the gentle rocking of the boat made me flushed and excited.  Back and
forth.

The flush turned to warmness against my leg where Chris was touching me,
and that warmness spread slowly down and around my leg and between my thighs.
My excitement was mounting and my breath came in short excited bursts, afraid
as I was, to awaken Chris.  Instead of pressing out sharply against my
underwear, my dick seemed to just swell a little, feeling tickly and funny.  I
didn't really want to get hard in this situation, but I knew there was little
I could do to stop it.

Scared to have Chris discover my boner, I turned over.  The warmness
that covered my thighs turned cold and wet!   I awoke in a start to find that
I was very much alone in my own bed and had wet the sheets.  It was the first
time at Shawnigan, and the first time that I could remember in over a year.

I was horrified at the thought of discovery and wanted to avoid an
embarassing jeering by my peers at all costs.  Being caught would surely mean
having to wear diapers to bed the next night.  Luckily it was the middle of
the night and my roommate was fast asleep.  I stood and lifted the top cover
and comforter back, which were not very wet at all, revealing the yellow stain
where I had let go in my sleep.  I tugged off the white sheet and hurried out
the door, still in my sopping wet undies.  I sneaked down the hall to the
laundry shoot, where I stuffed the smelly sheet, and pulled a fresh one from
the linen closet.  I stuffed my wet underpants into the garbage shoot outside
the bathroom on the way back.

It was a close call, but my accident would remain unnoticed!



Chapter Ten:
Chris's Birthday Party (excerpt)

After the dream, I spent my morning avoiding Chris like the plague.
Somehow I thought he might have had the same dream.  Or maybe he could see
right through me and know what I was thinking.  Of course this was just
paranoid embarassment, but the rituals of childhood are strong magic.

In math class I kept my head down, hard at work on the principles of
some word problem that envolved apples and hungry animals.  In english I had
to deliver a passage from our reader while standing in front of the class.  It
took great skill not to meet Chris' gaze from his seat in the back of the
room.  Afterwards I scooted back to my seat, sitting low and avoiding any
further attention.

----------------
...I stood there shivering a bit, knowing I could no longer hold it in.
I hated myself for not asking to go back to the bathroom right then.  No one
would have cared. I was just a little boy.  Boys ask to go to the loo all the
time.  But I couldn't.  I didn't have any time left, anyways.  No matter how
embarrassing, I had to let it go in front of all the other kids.

The little group stood in back of a pumper, listening as a tall
firefighter explained what this hose or that ladder was.  I stood a bit back
from the group, being the last to follow everyone around.  Chris spied me from
his position up front, nodding to have me come up with him but I just shook my
head no as if I was content with where I stood.  He turned back to the action.
The other firefighters had had enough of our group and were probably hiding in
front of the tv up stairs.

Looking around I saw a square iron grating not a foot from me, like the
kind over storm sewers.  It was a drain for when the fire trucks came back wet
and dripping.  I moved myself quickly over the drain and just had to let go.
Slowly at first and then all at once the warm liquid flowed against my leg,
soaking the front of my briefs and spreading like a warm wet cloth over my
crotch and belly.  A stream formed down the inside of my leg and I stood with
my little legs a bit apart so the golden stream came out my pant leg and
expertly bounced off my dress shoe into the grate.  It didn't make any sound
above the many noises of the station.  I pretended to watch the fireman, but
was concentrating on my pee pee.  All at once the station alarm rang out, so
deafeningly loud that it scared the little girls in the group...and I caught
CHris looking straight at me, his face was flushed red!


...continued in Part Four:   BEND04.ZIP