Coming Together 2
Usual warnings apply – this story is about teenboys getting messy.
"The guy with the monster juice spitter." That was to be the reply. Jimbo grinned as he pressed his crotch and `send'. Most teenage boys worry about size. A text book will explain that this is because you look down at your own genitals and from that angle your cock can look small whereas you look side-on when you check out the other boys and from that angle cocks look much bigger. Jimbo did not have this problem. From puberty he had been convinced that he was particularly well endowed. Not that he was. He had hit puberty earlier than almost all the other boys so that when he went to the pool or to PE lessons at school all the other boys would steal furtive glances at his cock. When Jimbo became aware of this he responded by pretending not to notice but he also slowed down the speed with which PE shorts or swim trunks replaced the discarded underpants. He could tell an admiring look and was more than accommodating in displaying his healthy pubic growth, his low hanging balls and his chubby cock. Not that he had been deliberately flashing his bulge that day at the station. It had been completely unconscious. In fact Jimbo had made a mental note to watch this, for once or twice his mother had had to snarl at him, "Will you stop doing that, it's disgusting!" It was only when Harry had pointed it out to him that he realised what was happening. "That kid is ogling your man bits!" Jimbo had hesitated for a second before responding. "Well, least I got plenty to ogle. As you know, Harry boy." "So? You gonna take this further?" "You want a shot on it then, Harry?" "Nah! But I think that kid wants to make a closer inspection!" Well, as already remarked, Jimbo was not averse to displaying his manhood so he and Harry had trooped off to the gents. Standing at a urinal and letting a kid admire your cock is one thing but that day it had all got out of hand. Or, to be more accurate, it had all got into hand. To be honest it had all taken Jimbo something by surprise. He wanked regularly but that apart sex was rare. At school the lads had taken him behind the PE block a couple of times where they had checked out his bone and then spunked him off. But that had stopped years ago; the lads got older and were more into girls. Anyway, a feeling grew that if you messed with another boy the lads might call you gay .. or worse. Thereafter Jimbo's sexual encounters had been limited to the occasional boy-on-boy hand session with Harry. He couldn't get what had happened out of his head. Worse, every time he thought about it he got a hard-on. Then his mind filled with pictures of the boy and he couldn't get rid of them. In his head he decided he had to see the kid again, have a burger, enjoy a chat. But he was not stupid; he knew he was lying to himself. He wanted to explore sex with the kid. It was very obvious to Jimbo that the kid was experienced, that the kid was seriously into it. Beside him, Jimbo felt like an amateur novice. Not that he was going to let the kid know that. Which further explains the bravado of his text. Meanwhile Robbie was reading the new message. He smiled. Although he wasn't sure which of the boys from the station had sent the message he was now pretty sure it was from one (or maybe both) of them. He was flattered.
Robbie read the message and grinned. He licked his lips as he mulled over how to reply. He was in no doubt he was going to meet up with these guys and see where events led; but he sensed he was being treated as an equal, not as some snotty kid they could use and abuse. That put pressure on him to get his responses right. "What'cha grinning at, Robs?" Looking up, Robbie stared straight into Morris's face. Unfortunately Robbie liked Morris, admired him even, for Morris was ... well, frankly, he was sexy. He was a bit shorter than most of the other boys in the class but he was well built and carried himself with confidence. He was also extremely blasé about sex. It hadn't bothered him when he had got a hard-on in the showers; he hadn't tried to hide it, pretend it hadn't happened. He had just continued soaping himself and let the other lads comment and stare. After a moment or two he had turned to the cheerleaders (mainly Muiry and his gang) and had cupped his hand under his balls to show himself off better and remarked, "don't think I'm built different from the rest of you." Then, running his fingers quickly along the length of the shaft, he had continued, "and don't pretend yours doesn't do this." "It's ... nothing ... just a pal ..." "Huh?" queried Morris. "It's just that you seemed awful pleased to get the message." Robbie looked puzzled until Morris nodded in the direction of Robbie's crotch. Robbie laughed. "Nah, Morry. I been like this since PE. As you effing well know!" Morris also laughed. "True. I did notice you were sporting a jerk-stick. You need to empty them nads more regular, Robs." "You offering?" Robbie could not believe he had just said that! "You asking?" For a second the two lads stared at each other as if neither was quite sure where the conversation might go. Then Robbie smiled and stuffed his phone into his trouser pocket. "Come on, Morry, let's go get a coke." "You did say coke?" asked Morris with an exaggerated scowl of disappointment. "Yes. Coke." Robbie threw an arm across Morris's shoulder and the two boys headed off towards the vending machine outside the school cafeteria.
The two guys went outside and sat on the wall outside the technical block. They chatted fairly aimlessly about the Math exercise that was due in next day with neither taking much interest in the conversation. For his part Robbie's mind was pre-occupied with the message on the mobile in his pocket, the message to which he had not yet replied. It did also occur to him to wonder why Morris had bothered to come over to confront him like that; it wasn't as if they were friends. They were in the same class, they were friendly enough in that they didn't dislike one another but neither hung around with the same group of boys. Suddenly Morris changed the subject. "Man, that was so funny in gym class!" Robbie narrowed his eyes and gave Morris a mock-suspicious look. "What was?" "You having to do that demo with a dead obvious hard-on!" Morris chuckled. Robbie for once didn't blush but instead grinned confidently. "I am pretty damned sure, Morry, that it was you pointed out that that was what a boy's cock tended to do." Morris raised an eyebrow. "Too right I did. All the guys know I bone up at the least thing. But you always seemed a ... well, you know, a bit shy of ... that stuff." Robbie pondered this for a second. He wasn't sure how to take it. Was it a compliment, was it a criticism? Did Morris perceive this shyness' as some sort of weakness. Maybe he thought it girly! Effeminate? Robbie paled as he thought this. Before he could respond Morris continued. "Och, lighten up, Robs! It's obvious you're carrying a beaut down there." Was Morris coming onto him? Robbie wondered. There was a crowd of guys went over the road to the park at lunch times. They had tickling sessions. That was what Robbie had heard. Only those tickling sessions were a pretty obvious front for something else; the boy picked out for tickling usually ended up getting tickled' between his legs giving the guys an excuse to feel his cock. Inevitably this often ended with the victim getting wanked off by the gang for a boy is bound to respond if someone starts jiggling with his balls. Robbie knew that Morris often went along as part of that crowd. "Well, you're not so bad off yourself, Morris." Robbie blinked as soon as he spoke. He had done it again, done something that was way out of character, acted without thinking, spoken without considering. "So the lads tell me." Robbie laughed. Morris grinned and glanced around. Having checked that nobody was about Morris suddenly slammed his hand between Robbie's legs. "So? You still up?" Instinctively Robbie pulled back but only momentarily. Next second he was thrusting forward with his hips as if to meet the exploring hand. At the same time he reached out to grab between Morris's legs. He didn't feel much at first, just an amorphous mass of squidginess, but within moments he felt something stiffen and grow under his hand. Just as he was responding too, to Morris's advance. They heard a scuffling sound. Each withdrew his hand. "Hey, Robs?" Morris spoke with surprising hesitancy. "How about you come over my bit later? We could work on that calculus thing." "Is that what you call it?" joked Robbie with a glance at Morris's crotch. "So that's OK then? Meet you at the corner of Crow Road at seven?" That was how the date was made. It was on his over to Crow Road that evening that Robbie finally got round to sending a text. "Sure. Where? When?" He thought to himself as he pressed `send' that something was changing in his life. Could it be him?
Jimbo looked at his phone for the third time in two minutes. Still no answer. He was beginning to regret ever fetching that scrap of paper out of Harry's waste bin, to regret sending these texts. There was something going on in his head that he didn't like, that he didn't understand. He was a boy who had always gone with the flow, who had lived for the moment; nothing in his young life had ever been thought through or planned ahead which probably explains why school had been a bit of a disaster for him. And now?
His head kept going back to that afternoon in the station. He could be down Bruno's playing the machines and suddenly he'd think of that kid's face staring along the platform. He could be bumming his way into TG's trying to act like he was twenty five and well entitled to be served up a lager and suddenly he'd find his head was in a toilet staring across at Harry and ... And there was another problem. Harry was his best mate, had been for years and yet it wasn't Harry he saw, it was that kid with his hand wrapped round Harry's cock.
"What the fuck is wrong with me?" He glanced round surreptitiously for he had not meant to speak aloud.
He hadn't really mucked around with anybody except Harry and that was just mucking around, same as all boys did with their best mates. Shit, it didn't actually mean anything; it was just something you did. You didn't plan it or worry about it; you didn't get `involved'. You just went with it if the need arose.
Huh! He remembered when he was fourteen. He and Harry had asked girls to go with them to the Hobbies Club dance. He'd asked Muriel Bruce. They had been dancing and as they passed some guys sitting in a huddle at the side he had noticed the way they looked at him but mostly at her and they had smirked and winked at each other as if to say `Jimbo's got himself in tow with a right slag there'. Dumped her straight off, he had. It was as if general approval was more important...
No, it wasn't that. He'd only asked the Bruce bitch out because all the guys seemed to be asking girls out. He wasn't that bothered himself. It was just something you did because all the guys were doing it. Same as helping a friend out ... you know? When the need arose and a boy needed relief.
But this, this now, this just felt so different.
Except it wasn't, was it? Jimbo struggled here with his thoughts. It was all about him before this. It was all really selfish. Like when his mother had got annoyed that he didn't want to go to cousin Kev's graduation do. "It'll be so ... boring. Like, all his mates are ... well, stuck up themselves nerds." "Do not be so selfish, Jim. It's you, you, you all the time. Always is. Self, self, self!"
It was like that with the Bruce. Dump her fast, never mind how she feels. But even with Harry, it was a bit like that. OK, he liked the feel of Harry's cock between his fingers but it was not about making Harry happy, was it? Once he'd cum he kind of lost interest in helping Harry out.
"Fuck, mate! Don't slacken off now! Not now! I'm so fucking close!" ... and out of duty he kept pumping away but his heart wasn't in it any more. It was all about getting, not giving. That was the point.
So what was all this about?
He just wanted to get something off this kid, that was all. No sweat, then, he reassured himself. No change there. Jimbo sighed and had another look at his phone. Still nothing ... and his heart sank a little more.
They worked away at the calculus for a while. Robbie liked Maths and became absorbed but Morris seemed restless, taking little interest in the intricacies of the problems set. "Och, come on. Let's have a break. You want something to eat?" "Sure." Morris stood up and pointedly eased the strain at the crotch of his over-tight skinnies. "How the heck do you ever get these on, Morry?" "You lie on the floor and ease them up, inch by inch." "So that'll be why they're no use for school." "Too right. I'm not that daft. No way am I lying on the locker room floor with my legs trapped in these and my boy-bits vulnerable. Asking for trouble, that is!" Robbie laughed. "Yeah. The guys would pile in to check out what was in the underpants." "Got it in one, Robs." "Aye, except from what I hear most of the lads already know what you got in there." "One to talk, you are! From what I remember you were pretty keen to check it out for yourself a few hours ago." "Morry, from what I remember I was just reacting to what your hand was up to." "Well," frowned Morris with seeming reluctance, "you're the boy was flashing a stiff one in his shorts. Got me curious." Robbie had the grace to grin at that. "Pepsi OK for you? And any flavour of crisps?" Morris changed the subject. "Yup. Sounds good." Morris disappeared downstairs. Robbie was left alone wondering again about what was going on. He had always shied away from situations which might develop into something sexual. It wasn't disapproval that made him act in this way, far from it. Part of him longed to get right in there. He simply was unsure of himself, unsure if his reactions would be the correct' ones. You used the wrong word, behaved in the wrong way, expressed the wrong opinion and you would thereafter be regarded with suspicion ... or worse, you would acquire a label' you could never lose. These tickling sessions in the park at lunchtime, for example; Robbie would have loved to go over, get involved. But he feared he would enjoy it too much and that the other guys would start saying he was gay. It made no sense. Muiry and his crowd could get up to the dirtiest antics and no one would ever have said they were gay boys'. Another boy did the exact same thing and he would be name-called for the rest of his school life. It all seemed so unfair to Robbie. Morris came back upstairs. He tossed a can of Pepsi across to Robbie. "Smoky bacon or salt and vinegar?" "Smoky please." Morris threw the packet across. "I didn't think you'd have ..." Robbie started to say before he hesitated in case he was about to dump his foot in it. " 'Cause I was snipped at birth? Don't be daft, Robs. There is no bacon in smoky bacon crisps. Honestly. They fake up the flavour. Very safe for Jew-boys." Robbie concentrated on opening the can. He did not want to think about snipping'. Morris sat down opposite Robbie and pulled open his can. Sitting with his legs wide apart it looked to Robbie as if Morris had rammed an outsize orange down his pants. Robbie crossed his legs and started a conversation about the new Science teacher. The chat was desultory and as soon as they finished their drinks Morris stood up. Expertly he tossed the can into his waste basket before turning towards the door. "I need to pee. You coming?" Robbie shook his head. "Nope, I'm OK." Morris let out an audible sigh and shook his head as he left the room. It took a few seconds for Robbie to realise; it had been a come on'. God, he thought, I am so effing naive. For a second he considered going after Morris, catching him mid-pee before howking the Robbie into action. But as soon as he stood up he realised he had no idea where the loo was and he would look such an idiot wandering the landing trying doors. Like some nosey parker, he thought, or a clepto. He shuddered and blushed at the idea. That was when Morris came back into the room zipping up as he came. "Need to watch not to catch the ..." Morris was saying. He stopped mid sentence. "You going already?" "No ..." stammered Robbie. "I was ... was gonna get my mobbie. See if my dad could pick me up later." He crossed to where his jacket lay on Morris's bed and fetched out his phone. "No need, man. My dad'll take you when he gets in from the office." "He's working late, Morry," observed Robbie. "Yeah, well. He got my sis this job cleaning the office but she usually has other plans and he usually ends up doing it. Like he didn't see that one coming!" Robbie laughed and put his mobile on the table. "If you're sure he'll be cool about it." "Sure, Robs. No probs. Hey!" "Yeah, yeah! You're a poet." Morris looked smug and polished his imaginary medals. "You wanna do any more of this Math shit, Morry? Or will we just chill?" "Yeah, fuck the Math. You wanna pick a CD to play? Or a DVD? And I got some games in that box up there." "I'll check it out." Robbie pulled the box off the shelf and knelt down to sort through the cases. He didn't hear his phone go off. Morris glanced at the screen, about to tell Robbie he had a text. He was intrigued, however, by the sender's name and without thinking he pressed show'. That was when Robbie looked up. Morris had turned bright red (which is not what the unembarrassable Morris was prone to do). It was partly the nature of the message and partly that he had been caught reading another boy's messages. Robbie knew as soon as he looked up. He knew Morris was reading a text and he knew who it must be from. His mortification was quickly replaced by anger that someone should snoop at his personal messages.
Jimbo's phone went off not long after tea. Message from hotboi'. "Sure. Where? When?" it read. Jimbo grinned. He liked the name he'd given the kid, thought it was cool. Sure, the kid was hot as hell; hung too for a kid and sure knew how to use it. He also liked the kid's reply. Dead cocky. But there was more to the surge of pleasure that swept through his body, like the delight a surfer will get as a massive wave breaks under his board. Where and when? Jimbo paused to think. Two o'clock Saturday would be good for any mates were likely to be heading off to the match so he wouldn't have to explain anything, get rid of anyone. Bruno's arcade in the mall, that would be the place. Natural place for lads to hang about, pass the time, meet up. They could go on from there. Grab a coke, get the bus, head back here. Jimbo turned this over in his mind. Seemed perfect. "Brunos in the mall, 2morro, 2." He pressed send'. Just then Jimbo's mother shouted up the stairs. "James, it's Harry." "OK, mum. Tell him to come right up." Harry came into Jimbo's bedroom and hurled himself down on the bed. "Thought you had a hot date tonight?" Harry scowled. "So the fuck did I. Just been round and her mum said she had a headache. How's that for an excuse?" "Hey! She two timing you, you reckon?" "Eh? Two timing? Don't be such a fucking wally, Jimbo! It'll be her hair." "Eh?" "Man, you really don't get girls, do you? She got this hair stuff in semi-chem yesterday. Bet it went wrong and now she looks like a freak with yellow hair." "But blondes are dead sexy, you said." "Aye, blondes. But not fucking fried eggs, mate." "So Harry won't be getting his leg over tonight then," laughed Jimbo. "Hell, you really don't understand women. Lassies don't put out as easy as you think. Might have got to rub my stiff one up and down her thigh but that's probably as far as I'd get." "So you thought you'd just come round my bit?" "Cum round is too right, mate." As he spoke Harry lay back on the bed and spread his legs wide and hefted his pleasure kit with his hand. "You want some of this?" Jimbo grinned. "Only if you want some of this?" Jimbo reciprocated the gesture. "Go to it, big boy."
"Aw fuck! I'm sorry. What a shitty thing to do!" Morris was breathing heavily and looked like he might be sick. Robbie stood with fists clenched and his face had drained to an angry ashen white. "Cunt, Morris." "Honest, I just thought it must be your dad and then I saw the sender name and ..." "You thought you'd nosey in at my messages." Robbie completed the sentence. "Well, yes, I guess so ..." "So? What did it say then?" asked Robbie aggressively. "Go on, smart arse." "I didn't actually get that far actually," lied Morris. "You sort of caught me out ..." Robbie suspected that Morris was lying but he wasn't sure he cared any longer. He caught the mobile as Morris chucked it across to him and glanced at the screen.
Brunos in the mall, 2morro, 2. Robbie felt calmer. That was pretty neutral. It was a pity though that he had assigned the moniker `cockboi' to his unknown friend. But Morris could make of that what he would. "You so owe me, Morry." "Anything, man. That was just so far below the belt." "So get over here and get on your knees," ordered Robbie as he unzipped his pants and reached in for his cock. "Get your gob round this. Then you eat ass." Not for the first time that week Robbie could not believe what he was doing. Morris could not believe it either. He'd acted like a crud and by some freak chance his boat was sailing in. He crossed the room falling to his knees as he did so. Robbie had flipped his cock and balls out so that they hung over his fly. His boyhood was plump like it was already on a semi. Hands on his hips Robbie thrust forward. Morris took hold of the cock and gazed at it admiringly. "Oh mate! It's a beauty," he muttered as Robbie boned up in his hand. "Shut the fuck up, Morry, and get busy. I'm hung just the same as you. I seen you with a bone on, remember." Morry nodded but said nothing for his lips were already tightening around his pal's spunk gun.
Harry tossed the tissues into the bin and zipped up. "Thought we'd try the Howf tomorrow dinnertime. Kev says he knows the barmaid and he can get her to serve us. It's always stowed out there before the game so nobody'll notice." Jimbo shrugged. "Sorry, Harry. I'm kind of tied up tomorrow." "Eh? What you mean tied up? You gonna give the match a miss?" "Can't help it, mate. My dad wants a hand with something." "What with?" "Och, just a job. You know what it's like. Mum's been going on at him so ... well, he told me to be around to help." Harry looked suspiciously at Jimbo. They had always gone to the home games together since they were kids. And tomorrow there was a better than even chance that they might even get a pint before the match. "Please yourself then." "That'll be right. I'm under orders. Your mum's just as bad." Harry leaned back on the bed and tucked his arms behind his head. Running his eyes over his friend's body, Jimbo did feel a twinge of guilt. They had been friends like forever, stuck together, stuck up for each other, never had secrets, told each other everything. Jimbo smiled as he remembered the day Harry had come rushing round so that he could drop his shorts to show Jimbo the first meagre pubic growth around his cock. And Jimbo had returned the favour after that time he had nearly passed out in the loo. He had been sitting there playing with his weenie which had started to get bigger and suddenly he had been overwhelmed by a different, a new sensation. And then he had cummed. He knew it wasn't piss, it was different and the feeling was very different. He'd gone straight round Harry's to tell him. Jimbo chuckled to remember how Harry couldn't wait to get at Jimbo's cock to wank it. That was how good mates they were; no sooner had the started cumming than they were sharing the experience. It was only a week or so after that Harry started shooting as well. "What you chuckling about?" "Och, nothing really. Just remembering that first time you wanked me." Harry grinned. "You took forever that time. And all I got was sticky wet piss." "Harry, mate. You milked the second ever load out my balls. That's real mates." "And I returned the compliment." "Like we've been returning the compliment ever since." The two lads grinned at each other and Jimbo crossed the room to bear-hug his pal. "Well. Thanks as usual. I better be off." "Tell the guys I'm sorry to miss the game." "Will do," Harry answered a she moved off downstairs. Jimbo's mum was in the hallway, dusting. "Goodnight, Harry. Will we be seeing you tomorrow?" "Nope. Not with that big job Jimbo and his dad are doing for you." "Aye," scowled the woman. "Chance'll be a fine thing. And what big job was that then?" Harry shrugged but on his way down the path he did begin to wonder.
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