This story contains self discovery and sexual activities among minors. If this subject doesn't interest you, close this window immediately. This story and its sequels are copyrighted. Do not reproduce or distribute without express permission from the author. Feel free to contact me at BillS16309@aol.com with any comments.
Sam & Slick Part One
Sammy and I had been friends for eleven years, since meeting in Kindergarten. Even then, he was a rough kid. Bigger than most kids, outgoing, with an agressive smile, sometimes hyper (nowadays, they would call it A.D.D.) but definitely the kind of kid you wanted on your side. I was the smallest kid in the class, more reserved than Sammy, and shy. We complemented each other.
Although Sammy was far from stupid, I was one of the smartest kids in the class. By the third grade, when we began bringing schoolwork assignments home, he and I had become close enough that I would help him. Naturally, Sammy wanted me to simply complete the homework for him, so he could turn it in. But I always took the time to explain the particulars of nouns, verbs, long division, and the like. I wanted him to grasp the building blocks of language and math, true. Looking back on it, however, I can't help the thought that I also wanted to stretch the time we spent together.
Sammy's family was also different than mine. Visiting his house was always an adventure where his brothers (three of them, all older) were always roughhousing and getting into trouble, and his mother was always cooking something wonderful. His father worked second shift for General Electric, and I seldom saw him. One of Sammy's brothers had nicknamed me Slick, and the name stuck. My own mother couldn't cook anything more complicated than Stouffer's frozen dinners, and my two sisters were much older than me and already out of the house.
From about the third grade on, Sam and I had occasionally played "doctor". Sam was fascinated by my penis because I wasn't circumcised. I enjoyed demonstrating how I could pull the skin back and forth over the head. But our experimentation hadn't gotten past the "look and don't touch" phase.
By the time I was in the seventh grade, my dad announced he was having and affair and was filing for divorce. Sam and I were now best friends. Our differences had made us friends, initially. My parents' divorce brought us closer together. During that time, I spent as much time away from the house as possible. Sam and I would explore a small patch of woods with a creek that ran behind my house. It was around this time that our bodies were changing. Sam was growing rapidly taller, and his voice was cracking. I had sprouted the first hairs above my penis. But I was still the shortest kid in the class.
One afternoon, as we were hiking, I pointed out how tall Sam was getting. There was a brief pause, and a look came over his face, as if Sam was deciding whether to broach a subject with me. "Yep, I'm changing."
"I'm changing, too."
"Oh, yeah? How?"
I looked around to see if anyone else was nearby. The coast was clear. "I'm getting hair down there. Look." I unzipped my jeans, pulled down my white briefs (we all wore white briefs in those days), and hooked them under my balls. Sam looked at my penis, moved closer to me, and brushed the back of his fingers across my sparse pubic hairs.
"I got 'em too." Sam pulled his t-shirt up. His didn't have washboard abs, but his stomach was flat. I noticed a line of hair reaching down from his navel, like the kind I noticed on my now absent father's stomach. Then he unzipped his jeans, and pulled them and his briefs down to his thighs, exposing his dick, balls, and ass.
His dick was enormous! It hung down at a 45 degree angle and pulsed with life. I audibly gasped when I saw it.
"Big, huh?"
"Sam, it's the biggest one I've ever seen."
"Who's else have you seen?"
"Not many," I admitted. "There's my dad, my older cousins, and you."
"I haven't seen my dad's, but I've seen all my brothers. I'm bigger than one of them. But not as big as the oldest two. You really saw your dad's dick?"
"Yeah, we used to shower together after camping."
"Did you see your dad hard?" Sam seemed fixated on the subject of my father's penis, and I was getting irritated. The last thing I wanted to discuss was my father.
"No," I answered rather emphatically
There was another pause. Sam realized he had brought out some unhappy feelings in me, and changed the subject. "I caught my brother playing with his dick. He showed me something cool. Wanna see?"
"Sure," anything to stop talking about my father and his dick.
Sam started rubbing hand up and down the shaft of his dick. By now, it was hard and pointing upward. I copied his motions, as we watched each other.
"Slick, make the skin go over the head like you used to."
As I began working my foreskin, strange new feelings began to overwhelm me. I was a little frightened by them. But seeing the look on Sam's face as he began stroking himself faster and faster washed away any fear on my part. He began huffing and moaning, and his face was sweaty and red.
"Slick, watch this," he gasped. And then, white stuff shot out of his pee-hole, hitting the tree next to us.
Seeing Sam's orgasm (even though I didn't know the word for it), made my dick swell to full hardness, and I felt an inner itching and uncontrollable throbbing in my cock and balls, as a drop of clear fluid appeared at the end. I had never felt this before, and was unprepared for the intensity. It was then that I began to feel dizzy, and Sam, his dick still wet with cum, caught me before I hit the ground.
"Slick, are you okay?"
"I'm dizzy. I think I need to lie down."
Sam slowly lowered me to the ground, cleaned his dick and zipped himself up. Then, he leaned over me and carefully tucked away my penis and zipped my jeans. I was as weak as a newborn kitten. Sam lay next to me, and rubbed my chest.
Later that day, as we walked home, Sam grabbed me by the elbow and stopped me, facing me, standing very close.
"Slick, I hate to point this out. But you're changing in another way," he said, pointing at my stomach.
"I know. I can't seem to control it." Of course, I could control it. I was overeating to compensate for the emptiness I felt in my lonely family.
Sam grabbed me by my shoulders, "Let's do sit-ups and lift weights in my basement!"
"Okay. But not today, I'm still too weak from what happenned."
Sam's basement "gym" was a primitive affair, with a bench and an assortement of dumb-bells and free weights. In the corner was an toilet, right out in the open, and Sam and I were never shy when we had to piss or even take a dump. The basement was the "guys only" part of the house, and his mother seldom ventured down there. Occasionally, one or another of his brothers would join us, but not often.
From seventh grade until we finished high school, Sam and I would regularly work out in his basement after finishing our homework. My arms and chest developed (we always took off our shirts when we worked out, and if it was too hot, our jeans) and my stomach shrank so much that Sam's mother was always making treats for us, saying I was too skinny.
And so it went for several years, from elementary school, to middle school, and finally on to high school.
Camping was our favorite pastime. In retrospect, camping was Sam's way to get some quiet time away from his loud family, and my way to be close to another male. During the summers between our sophmore, junior, and senior years in high school, Sam and I went camping whenever we could. There were always adventures (like hiking in the nude) and misadventures (such as getting caught in the rain). We could be close to each other, physically and emotionally, without anyone else to interfere. But we never discussed our feelings--until the last time we went camping, the summer we graduated from high school.
We had timed our camping trip to coincide with a meteor shower in August. Sam and I went to our usual spot, a old CCC campground in southeastern Ohio that had been all but abandoned when a fancier place, with modern amenities like toilets and showers, was built in the 1970s. We were expecting hot weather, so we dressed light, carrying only one change of clothes, plus a tent kit, some food, and sleeping bags. We arrived in mid-afternoon. Sam parked his truck at the end of a dirt road where the campground ended and the woods began. We knew these trails well, and began hiking on memory and instinct. I always carried a compass just in case--this was long before the advent of GPS.
We set up camp in early evening near a stream at the base of a mountain in the Appallachian range. While I put the tent up, Sam gathered some wood for burning. It was cooler than we expected, but that didn't stop us from a quick round of skinny dipping before dinner. After a few minutes in the water, I put my shoes on and headed over to the woodpile to start a fire. I didn't bother putting any clothes on as Sam finished his swim and headed toward me. Grabbing a loose branch, he used it to poke at my dick.
"Hmm. I guess some things contract in the cold."
I wasn't embarrassed at Sam poking fun (literally) at my shrivelled penis, as his had nearly retracted into his body.
"It'll grow when the fire is done," I replied. "Besides, you're a bit under par yourself, peewee."
It was awesome hanging out naked with Sam.
We wolfed down dinner as soon as we made it, sitting on a log with our shorts under our butts so we wouldn't get splinters. It was getting dark and the stars came out. By then, even the fire couldn't combat the cold and regretfully I pulled on my sweatpants, and Sam put on his shorts. I grabbed t-shirts from the tent as Sam broke out the beer.
The sky was crystal clear--a perfect night for stargazing, and one of the reasons it was cold. Sam and I were now sitting on the ground, my right side leaning against his left, feeling the warmth of his body. The crickets were a noisy accompaiment to me as I pointed out the various constellations to Sam.
"That's Isis, and over there, that's Osiris."
"Man, Slick, you sure know your astrology."
"It's astronomy. Astrology is horoscopes."
"Man, you are such an Aries," he said, his grinning face as the fire cast flickering shadows across his face.
We went on for a while like that, drinking while huddled for warmth, looking at the stars, wondering if there was life out there, content in each other's company. We both stood and took a long piss into the fire to calm it, our streams crashing into each other, as they had many times before.
By this time, we were pretty buzzed, and as they say, "in vino, veritas."
Sam opened another bottle of beer. "You got the brains, slick. You're gonna go far."
"Give me a break. You're not stupid just because you get stuck in school sometimes. You'll do just as well as me, maybe better."
"Maybe."
Sam opened another beer. The dying fire crackled and popped. Sam had that look again, like he wanted to say something but was working up the courage to say it. "You got something else I wish I had."
"What"
"You got that skin on your dick."
"What?" There was a pause as I began to comprehend that Sam actually spent time thinking about my dick. "You're unhappy because you were circumcised? C'mon. You have nothing to be ashamed of in the dick department. For one thing, yours is a lot thicker than mine. Besides, most guys are circumcised."
"Yeah, but it's not like I had any choice."
"Well, neither did I, although I suppose I could have it done now." Sam glared up at me. "Hey, I was the one with the strange looking dick in the locker room. I wish I HAD been cut."
Like lightning, Sam rose up and charged for me. I stood, frozen in disbelief that he was about to hit me. Then, Sam grabbed my sweatshirt, and lifted his fist. "Don't say that! Be proud of what you have!" I stood motionless, looking him straight in the eye. Sam slowly lowered his fist, his lips bunched into a deep frown, he covered his mouth with his hand, and tears welled over as he began sobbing.
And then it happenned.
The fist that had been raised in anger opened and found its way to the back of my neck, pulling my face to his. His other hand let go of my sweatshirt and moved around my waist. I was not expecting his kiss, had never even thought about kissing him. But I didn't recoil. Kissing my best friend was the most natural thing in the world. Why had we never done this before?
I could taste the beer on his breath, felt his stubble rubbing against my face. Everything was so right.
Suddenly, Sam pushed me away. "I'm sorry I'm so sorry Slick I didn't mean to kiss you please don't tell anyone." The drying tears left tracks on his face.
"It's ok, it's ok Sam....it's ok. Come here, it's ok man. You're drunk, I won't tell anyone. Let's put out the fire and go to sleep."
It was getting cold. I helped Sam get into the tent, lowered him onto his open bag, and pulled his boots off. Then I went to throw dirt on the dying fire, finishing it off by pissing on it. By the time I got back into the tent, Sam was already passed out. I began turning the events of that night over in my mind, trying to understand what had brought forth such fury in my friend.
To be continued...
...and yes, there will be sex in part two.