Chapter Text
I couldn't stop thinking about what had happened at Robbie's house, I tried again and again, but it was really impossible. It felt bad somehow, but at the same time it had been something fascinating. It wasn't fair, it didn't feel fair to have to go through such a big moral dilemma at my young age. Should I tell Elias? No, no way, not even think about it. Sure he probably knows what to do in these cases, but it’s so embarrassing, so that’s out of discuss.
There I was, lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling as if it was made of glass and all the constellations crossed the roof threatening to fall on me at any moment. I knew that wouldn't happen, because it was daytime, but honestly, that was how I felt, unable to control a feeling that seemed too big to fit on my chest, inside a body unfortunately too small. Everything was going great, we had been in the new house for almost two years, I finally had new friends, Elias had friends and even a girlfriend, Dad had an awesome job and everything was going smoothly. Why now? I didn't need this now. Sure if mom could listen to me she would understand my situation, but it's not like I could tell her, I was ashamed to tell anyone.
It was very hot today, it was summer, so I got rid of all the clothes that were holding me except for the underwear, although it wasn’t too much, it was July and I was melting, so my outfit only consisted on short jeans and a loose tank top.
So, there I was, on my bed, face up, with all that blond hair sticking to my face with all that sweat, I pulled it back with my hand and went back to that moment again, unintentionally, but inevitably. Because being in my boxers on the bed and about to melt, was the reason that had led us to the 'problem' in question to be exact. Although I, for some strange reason, did not consider it a problem at all, but a wonderful discovery that still had me open-mouthed and stunned. Thinking of that moment, of Robbie, of that strange but incredible sensation, plus the added heat of a July afternoon, made the light and dark blue striped boxers I was wearing begin to rise. And that, in a matter of seconds, my willie was raised again creating a noticeable tent on my underwear.
My complexion, usually thin, and my size perhaps smaller than an average eleven-year-old, made me appear larger, but nevertheless I did not think I was, although it did look similar to Robbie's, so I wasn’t really concerned. His was a little bigger, but Rob had hit the mark this year, he was taller than me, so somehow it made sense, the math worked out. Also, his didn’t have the extra skin at the tip, it kinda looked like mine when I pulled it back, so that didn’t bother me, we were just different kids, with obviously different dinkies.
There I was still, daydreaming, with my hands resting on my nude abdomen, watching how that bulge in my underwear seemed to be the culprit of all this, and the one that was about to get me into trouble. I put my glasses back on and looked at the ceiling again. All the stars and the galaxies were no longer there, the wooden skylight was back, which confirmed me how the sky was still clear and bluer than my brother's eyes.
I was curious about what had happened, that new quality that my best friend and I had discovered the previous afternoon at his house. I hadn’t done it again, I’d only done it once, in his room, unless we count when I did it to him, which I think it doesn’t, I prefer to think that it doesn’t count. What if I did it again? nothing bad could happen. I just needed tissues, because I didn't have a bin in my room like him, so I would have to do like Robbie did. I really wanted to do it again, so much that even my thing swayed in response, I didn't feel like going down to the kitchen for tissues. Nor did I want to risk losing my boner (which I didn’t know yet that it was called like that) again during the little trip, I was fully up and I wanted to take advantage of this opportunity.
I ran my hand over the fabric of the underwear that was higher up, where, due to the pressure of the fabric, a curvature was generated. It bothered me, and it felt oppressed and inhuman, the fabric made what I was about to do difficult, so I did the same as at Rob's house.
With my left hand I lowered the fabric of the blue undies, from the waist to below the balls, but I did not lift the fabric until I got there, I dragged it along the shaft until I freed my little thing from the confines of my boxers, so when I took it off it bounced off my belly, which was funny to me. There I was, giggling at my penis.
I was still holding the fabric of my underpants with my left hand so they wouldn't get in my way, and with the other I finally decided to touch my willie, as I had been told before that I had to, as I liked to do it, despite my reduced experience. I put my thumb closer to me, and my index and middle farther away, holding the highest part of my thing. From there, with those three fingers holding it, I went down to the base and went back up to the top of the whole, stretching the excess skin (also didn’t know it was called foreskin, it was my first bloody wank) to the top, which opened and revealed the peehole each time it went down.
I couldn't believe that something that I had been using all my short life just to tinkle or to receive unfortunate painful kicks, could also serve for something so pleasant. I kept doing the same movement over and over again, faster and faster, no longer as such a mechanical movement but as the body asked me to do, to my liking. It felt tremendously good, it was getting hotter and hotter. I couldn't erase from my head the image of what had happened the day before at my friend's house a couple of streets down, I didn't want to think about it, but every time I did, the feeling in my dinky intensified, that wasn't so bad, despite feeling so dirty.
I began to worry as the circle of heat in my belly grew and grew, since, although I had verified the day before that I was not going to wee, the feeling was so similar, that I was worried that a jet would suddenly start and end into the duvet as on the wooden floor. However, the heat circle was getting so great that I didn't mind ending up peeing if it meant that that circle would explode again in a shower of pleasure all over my body, from the back of my head to the tips of my toes, and also in a kind of sticky white liquid that, according to the high scholars, is called semen and is not a bad thing at all.
I felt like I was about to burst, whether it was from pee or from pleasure, my mind wandering through a mixture of blank thoughts and a couple of images from the previous afternoon that kept keeping me on the line I needed to get where I wanted to go. I was about to burst, I really was about to burst, and I knew it because that was how I had felt the last; and first; time at Rob's house.
I was so absorbed in my thoughts and what was happening below the belt at considerable speed, that I did not even notice the knock on the door or the squeak when it was opened:
"Fuck Shawney!" Elias said as soon as he opened the door.
"Get out Eli! Go!" I said as hard as I could, trying to cover my crotch with my hands, since my clothes were on the chair, the bed was made, and the cushions too far away.
"Okay! I’m sorry! heh, I'll let you finish your business” he said laughing, which would’ve annoyed me more than it did, if it wasn’t because just before he could leave the room, I literally exploded and I say literally, I really mean literally.
No, it wasn’t pee, but the other thing, the white and sticky, all over the bed cover, my boxers, my hand and belly. I could hear the laugh from across the room, that stupid, British laugh coming from my brother's, that should’ve come out of the room when I asked him to, literally yelling my lungs out. But damn, it really felt good. How can something so awesome make you feel so horrible at the same time?
I finally heard the door shut, this time I did notice the squeak, and I lay there, covered in a disgusting substance that was now cold, feeling horribly dirty, wanting a shower that I knew would not free me from the sensation, and needing a wee so much, now for real. I stared at myself, my body covered in that strange and unpleasant sticky thing still foreign to my knowledge, my willie still out, but now chubby, and the only thing that I managed to do was crying. Tears gathered in my puppy green eyes, fogging my glasses and blurring my vision before spilling down my cheeks as I sobbed like the child I was, even though I felt like I was no longer a child because of what I had just done.
I felt like it was written on my forehead in permanent marker and that everyone who looked at my face from now on would know what I had just done, that not even the bangs covering my entire forehead and almost my eyes, could avoid that will. I wanted to die and be buried deep down the ground. I sniffed the snots, wiped the tears with my forearm, which was thankfully not stained, and now, feeling a little better, more relaxed, I did the logical thing as the common sense came back to me. I took a used tissue that I knew I had in the backpack I always use to go to the lake, and used it as best as I could to clean myself. I needed to put my boxers into the washing machine, I just hoped Dad didn't know what they had stained on when he put them to wash. (Poor childlike innocence)
I took off my underwear, I left it on the chair next to the shirt, which I didn't put on because I was still sweating, I don't know if it was from the heat, from the embarrassment, or from the suffocation of what, shortly after, I would discover was an orgasm. I could feel the sweat on my lower back, my forehead, the back of my knees and my feet, it was disgusting. I put my pants back on, resting my left hand against the wall to keep my balance as I did so, and after zipping up I sat on the corner of the bed to put on the brown sandals that I used so much on hot days like these, well, and in summer in general. As I did so, as I sat on the bed, I forced myself to grimace, since, not wearing underwear, my penis brushed against the hard and rigid fabric of my jeans, and for some reason that I did not yet understand, it was very sensitive and irritated after touching it a couple of minutes ago.
I turned to the bed and saw the stains on the edge, I was disgusted to sleep that night and cover myself with that blanket, so I spilled some water from my canteen on the stains and spread it a little with the tissue so that when it dried would feel a little cleaner and not have the stain that reminds me of what I had just done. I put my hand to my face to rub my nose, still dripping from the previous crying, and the smell that my fingers gave off while doing it, so different, so… unpleasant made my stomach turn. I ran to the drawer, took out the minion cologne and put it on my fingers to make that smell go away. I also rubbed it over my body even without a shirt and put it back in its proper place.
I spent a while walking around the room, I didn't want to go out and face my brother. I thought there was no one home, Dad was with that new friend of his, and Elias had gone to the lake with his friends. No one was supposed to be home, but I was sure Elias would have stayed by now. I didn't want to go downstairs at all, but I really needed the loo, like the day before at Robbie's, right after… well, that. I really needed to go, it was no joke. I tried to avoid the obvious, I sat on the corner of my bed, cross-legged, and used my hands to grab myself and avoid the threatening leak to come out. Although that simple thought, the clear chance of peeing my pants at eleven years old, having a perfect usable toilet downstairs seemed stupid to me.
I didn't want to leave my room, but I had to.