Usual warnings - don't read if you're under 18 or if it's illegal to do so, this does contain minors masturbating. Feedback is welcome at racemate@hotmail.com.
"Sparking Off", Part 1.
"Okay, Mom, just let me finish this chap--"
"No, you'll go to bed NOW, like I told you!"
"Alright, alRIGHT," I grumbled. It really was a pain, sometimes, being only 14. I sure felt like an adult, but my parents didn't always seem to realize this... let alone agree. And so I was getting sent to bed at 10, like a little kid, while my big brother Mark could stay up til midnight. He didn't think I was much of an adult either, and made sure I knew it.
I climbed the stairs, headed for the room Mark and I had shared since we were kids. It wasn't really too bad, sharing a room with him, even if there were times I really wished I had my own room. A guy needs some privacy sometimes, as I had started to find out last year. I felt a twitch in my boxers as I thought about one reason for privacy. Mom just said I had to go to bed, she didn't say I had to go to sleep.
I packed up my stuff for school the next day... only two books, but Mom was really serious about being all ready for school before we went to bed. Then I turned out the light at my desk and got ready for bed. The jeans and t-shirt hit the laundry basket, then I quickly pulled on the gym shorts I wore to sleep in. I didn't really want Mark coming in and teasing me about how skinny I was, the way he sometimes did.
I turned out the light by the door, and flicked on the little reading light by my bed. Yeah, I was in bed, but I wanted to relax a little before trying to sleep. I reached under the mattress on the side away from Mark's bed, and pulled out an old beat-up Playboy I'd gotten from a friend's stash last month. "Hopefully, Mark'd stay away for a while..." I thought to myself as I opened it up and started flipping through the pages. He'd only caught me once, when I first started jacking off last year... the jerk barged in on me in the shower while I was trying it in there. I hated him for the way he'd laughed at my "little pencil dick", and laughed at me for playing with myself. At least I'd found out what the older guys called it... now I knew to talk about jacking off, instead of "pulling my thing".
I finally found a page to land on, with a great shot of a pair of cheerleaders playing with each others breasts. At least, the page said they were cheerleaders, although even I could tell they were way too old. And I couldn't imagine those breasts ever fitting inside a cheerleader's costume, at least not the ones we had at school. Even the high school costumes. I wondered if girls really did stuff like that, playing with other girls' titties... I closed my eyes and tried to imagine how it'd look to really see that.
I lay back with my head on the pillow, feeling my dick grow almost painfully hard as I tried to picture Katie and Shawna doing stuff like that. The two girls were in most of my classes, and they definitely had the biggest chests in the whole ninth grade. They were also best friends, and I figured that, if any girls in my class did it, then it'd be them... not that I blamed them, I'd do anything to get to play with them too!
I flipped out the light and stuffed the mag back under my bed. It was time to do something about this boner. Again. I'd just jacked it off that morning, and again after school, but I was so horny I felt like I'd been a week without. Sometimes I wondered if all men stay that horny all the time, or if I was just some kind of freak... how did anyone ever get anything DONE with all that horniness? Sometimes, I did. But not right now, right now I was just focused on my dick, and the way every single thing that touched my skin seemed to make me hornier and hornier, even stuff like the sheets and my socks. I pulled the sheet up to my chest, then reached under it to slide my shorts and boxers down. I reached under the bed again and got the little bottle of hand lotion and the washcloth I kept down there, too.
I checked the door again, to make sure it was closed all the way. I reached down and slowly ran my fingers along the length of my dick. I gasped at the touch, this was going to be a good one. Ever since I'd switched to boxers, a few months ago, it seemed like I'd been even hornier. Must be something about the way the cloth rubbed against me, or the way my dick reached down the leg. And all that horniness just stayed in my crotch, building up until I felt like that balloon Mr. Gruber had in science class, rubbing it with silk to demonstrate static electricity, until the whole class jumped at the spark when he touched it to the sink faucet. I was a giant walking boy-shaped balloon of horniness and I needed to spark off.
I flipped the lotion open and drizzled a thin jet down the length of my dick. It felt nice and cold at first, against my red-hot skin. Then my hand started to rub through the lotion, spreading it around and around, from the very tip past the flare down to the shaft and finally to my pubes. Yeah, I had pubes, a nice set too. More than the other boys in my gym class, anyway, except for Tommy Peters and he didn't really count, he was nearly a whole year older 'cause he'd had to repeat fifth grade. He was nearly as big as my brother, and he even had a bit of hair on his chest.
The lotion was very warm now, I hardly felt it at all, except that it made it easier for my hand to stroke up and down, up and down. Ohhh, that felt good. I dropped the lotion down by my bed and closed my eyes, starting to get lost in the tingles of pleasure that were starting to shoot out from my dick all over my body. The sheet was cool against my bare skin, and I kind of lifted my knees to make a shallow tent, for better access. I didn't want to kick the sheets off entirely, just in case Mark did come in... even though I knew that it'd be even better to be able to watch myself jack off like the man I was becoming. I'd done that, sat buck naked on the counter in the bathroom right next to the mirror and watched myself jack it one afternoon when Mark was at football practice. I'd shot off all over that mirror, too, when I got a little carried away. That wasn't too long after I'd started to shoot cum, and it was so cool to actually see it... yet another sign I was growing up, running slowly down the mirror. I had to hurry to clean it up, too, 'cause I knew Mark would be home soon, and I knew he'd laugh at me if he caught me again. Or just beat me up, 'cause I was sitting on his towel. I must have missed a spot, too, I went back to wash my hands before dinner and there was a big white spot on the bottom of the mirror. I wondered if Mark'd seen that, if he'd seen his little brother's cum.
I kinda wondered if he jacked off too. Not that I really cared. But that time he caught me, he'd said only little scrawny kids need to jack off, real men go out and get pussy. I wondered if he'd done that, if he'd had sex with a girl. He and Lisa had been dating a long time now, I heard him and his buddies talking about her once, and Mark said she'd given him a blowjob. I wished I could find a girl to do that to me. I tried to imagine what it'd feel like, a pair of warm soft lips wrapped around my dick instead of my fingers. Would it feel as good? better? I didn't really see how anything could feel better than my hand. But the pictures I'd seen in those magazines with guys getting blown sure made it look like they were having fun.
Oh, crap, I was getting too close... normally I like to make the one right before bed nice and slow, but I'd gotten carried away trying to imagine Katie's perfect lips wrapped around my dick. I whimpered slightly as I felt the tingles spread from my crotch down my legs and up my spine. My hand seemed like it was moving all by itself, pounding back and forth furiously on my slicked-up boner. I reached down with my left hand to cup my balls as they got ready to pump out another load of cum. My legs pushed up, lifting the sheet into a great big tent with my dick the tent-pole. Aaaaghh.... ohh, yeahh....
Just as I felt the juices flow, I heard the door open! CRAP! it was Mark! I tried to pull back so I could cover up and hide what I was doing but no way could I stop now... I gasped as I felt one... two... three... four big squirts leave my dick. And while I was still paralyzed and struggling for air, Mark turned on the lights.
"Oops!" he said as he looked over at my bed. "Uh, sorry, Kev. I, uh, didn't realize you were, um, in bed."
"Uh!!" I said. Okay, not the brightest thing I'd said all day, but my brain was still having a little trouble taking control back from my dick. Or something. I waited for the laughter.
"I'll, uh, just turn out the lights, okay?" he asked. I couldn't move, not even to nod. He flicked the lights back off, and came all the way into the room. I heard the door close, and he locked it. He did that, sometimes. I heard him stumble his way over to his desk, and he banged his books and stuff around for a minute or two. I was slowly recovering, physically, but my head was full of worries... when was he gonna start laughing? or would he just tell everyone at school? what if he told all his football buddies that his dorky little brother was some kinda perv who couldn't get any action? I suddenly remembered that I was naked, smeared with the cooling remains of a great orgasm, and that the sheet had slid down a little too much. I reached down and pulled my shorts on, wishing I dared wipe myself off with Mark there.
Finally Mark zipped up his backpack and started getting ready for bed. I heard him pull off his shirt and toss it in his laundry pile, then his jeans. He usually slept in his boxers, I guess he didn't worry much about an older brother teasing him about anything. I heard him pull back the sheets on his bed, but instead of getting in bed, he stopped. He crossed the ten feet to my bed, and stood looking down at me. I saw him grin, in the dim moonlight filtering in through the blinds. "Damn, Kev, you really popped a big one tonight, huh? Looks like my little bro's not so little anymore. You shoot like that every time?"
I didn't know what to say. I was glowing inside from what he'd said about being impressed, but no way did I want to talk about jacking off with a jerkface older brother all too ready to push me down for any little thing. I just grunted, looked like that was my safest response tonight.
"Hey, relax, Kev, it's cool. We all do it, y'know. Even I have to jack off sometimes." Huh? Super-cool stud-boy Mark did it too? I felt better, suddenly. "Of course, most of us try to keep it private, instead of letting people walk in on us at just the worst moment." He laughed, and started heading for his own bed. Oh, God. I was dead. Why couldn't the bed just swallow me up completely or something? I heard him climb into bed.
"You better clean up, dude. You got something to wipe it up with? That stuff sticks, y'know. And you'll smell kinda funky in the morning if you just leave it." Yeah, but I sure didn't want to make any noise he could hear right now. He couldn't possibly expect me to do that. Couldn't he feel how much embarassment I was radiating right now? Oh, wait, of course he could, this was just his way of rubbing it in. So to speak.
"Well? You got a cum rag or not, bro? I guess you could borrow mine if you don't, at least for tonight." He reached under the side of his bed and pulled something out. He threw it at me and it landed on my chest, now safely covered by the sheets. He really thought I'd use his cum rag? What the heck was going on? "Kev, this ain't like the mirror, you gotta clean up or you'll be all sticky in the morning. You've got pubes already, right? It's gonna stick in your pubes, you'll havta pull 'em out in the shower tomorrow to get clean." This couldn't be happening. This was some weird, alternate-reality, Twilight-Zone world I'd somehow gotten switched into. There was no way I was talking about pubes and dried cum and jacking off and everything with my wedgie-giving, ball-busting older brother. Well, I still wasn't talking, but he was saying enough for both of us.
"Kev? You okay over there? I really am sorry I walked in on you like that, that must've sucked big-time. But it's not like I knew you were doing it. And at least you managed to finish up. Right?"
"Yeah." There. I'd said an actual word.
"I know how embarassing it is to get caught, I still remember when Dad caught me when I was about your age. It was that time we went to DC for spring break, remember? I was doing it in the motel shower and Dad had to take a leak. I'd filled up the tub and was just lying back, pounding away, when he walked in and saw me. No way to hide, either."
"What'd he do?" Now that I'd started talking, I couldn't really go back to grunts, could I? Besides, I was kinda curious. It did seem worse to get caught by an adult, somehow.
"Not much, he just walked out again. Later on, he gave me a big talk about how there's a time and place for everything, and if I just couldn't wait I should at least lock the door."
"Did you keep going?"
"Hell, yeah. It feels awesome in the shower, with all the water and soap. You like lotion?"
"Yeah." Didn't he remember catching me in the shower?
"Feels even better when it's soap or shampoo or something. Easy to clean up, too, just straight down the drain. But hey, I guess you already know about the shower, huh?"
Oh. He did remember. "Yeah, I've tried it."
"Yeah, I caught you that one time. Sorry I laughed like that, but I really hadn't realized you'd grown up so much already." This was definitely not my brother. Some kind of alien pod-brother, maybe, but not the real Mark. I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop and the laughter to start. "How long have you been cumming like that?" he asked.
"A couple months, I guess," I answered. "I started nearly a year ago, but at first there wasn't much of it."
"Really? That's pretty cool, sounds like you were a bit ahead of me, then... I was 14 when I really started to squirt." In a way, it was actually pretty cool, talking about this stuff with Mark. I'd talked about it a little bit with friends my own age, and I knew from The Talk with Dad, and the porno mags I'd seen, how it worked for adult guys, but Mark was someone who could give me a play-by-play story about what to expect and everything. When he wasn't being a jerk, that is. And I really liked the thought that I was growing up faster than Mark had.
"So how much do you shoot now?" I asked. Not really expecting an answer.
"You still got that towel I threw at ya?" he asked.
"Yeah." I'd picked it up in the meantime... I'd kinda been afraid there'd be wet spots, but everything was nice and dry. Maybe his dried faster than mine. Or he just hadn't done it this morning. I did notice it was pretty well crusted with spots.
"I just started that one the other day," he grinned.
"No way! you filled up a towel like this in just a couple days?" And I thought I was shooting a good-sized load.
"Yeah! I get nice big loads when I do it right. Feels fuckin' awesome, too."
"How often do you do it?" I asked next.
"It depends. If I'm really horny and not going on a date or anything for a couple days, I'll do it two, three times a day. Other days only once."
"Mark... when do you do it?" How come I'd never caught him?
"When you're not around, squirt," he grinned. "Some of us know how to lock a door. Hey, you done with my towel yet?"
"Why?"
"Cause I might need it later, squirt. You never know when things are gonna get interesting. And I'd hate to be caught short and have to use a t-shirt or something instead. Or maybe I'd just use one of yours."
"Maaark! Noooo! It stains!" I'd made that mistake too many times, Mom had had to ask me to be more careful. Talk about humiliating!
"Yeah, and it sticks to your skin, too, like I said. You clean up yet? I haven't heard you." Oh, crap, he was going to listen?!?!
"Not yet."
"You better hurry up and do it, then, if that stuff dries on ya it's gonna hurt." Yeah, and he wasn't gonna pretend not to listen, either, I could hear him being dead quiet over there. I lifted the sheets up and pulled my shorts down to my knees. I grabbed the first towel I could find and started wiping, I could feel it getting stickier as it dried. I quickly realized from the size and feel of the towel that it was Mark's, not mine. At first I was pretty grossed out, but then I figured, hey, we're brothers, his isn't that different, and he seems to think it's cool to share one like that. I kept wiping, and got most of it off my crotch and legs, but I could still feel a couple damp patches on the sheet. "That's right, clean up good," he said. His voice sounded different, somehow, and I looked over at his bed... he was propped up on one elbow, watching me! Suddenly this felt kinda weird, so I dropped the towel, yanked up my shorts, and threw the towel back at him. Hit him on the face, too, which caused a muttered warning to "watch it, squirt!" I rolled over on my side, facing him like I usually did, wondering if he was going to jack off too.
"Good night, Mark," I said softly. "Thanks for the towel."
"No problem, squirt, borrow it any time," he said. "Or you could keep your own, that might be easier. G'night, Kev. Sleep tight."
I closed my eyes and tried not to wonder about Mark jacking off, as I drifted off to sleep.
When I woke up the next morning, that same towel was rolled up and stuffed in my hand. I unfolded it and saw fresh wet spots. At least now I knew for sure that my brother jacks off.