Archive-name: First/bend03.txt Archive-author: R. Palme Archive-title: Bend in the Road, A - 3 ... 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