Date: Tue, 2 Dec 2003 04:07:02 +1100 From: Janosz Poha <firstname.lastname@example.org> Subject: Showing Zack Copyright Janosz Poha 2003 After swimming, myself and my two friends retired to the changing room, an area of increasing interest for me. Myself and Zach stood uncertainly with our bags on the bench in front of us, while Simon peeled off his shorts with a child's complete lack of self-consciousness. He walked naked in front of us to the shower room, his penis like a small acorn, as brown and smooth as the rest of his body. His scrotum was a tight ball behind it. "Simon doesn't care," Zach observed, in a tone not completely safe from curiosity. Still, Zach and I would always hide our nakedness from anyone. Zach was shorter than me, although a year older at thirteen. My mother described him as cute. Although I saw his bare ass several times a week, usually shown to me when I least expected it, he was cautious about revealing the space on the other side of it. I followed suit; we were best friends, after all. After showering in our soaking wet shorts, we undressed, and dried, behind towels. Although no-one could see me, I enjoyed the feeling of being naked in the company of others, something that I had never experienced. I watched Zach pull on a pair of bright blue underpants, (jocks, as we call them here), with pictures of stars on them. His slight belly poked over the top. Having dried himself carelessly, the cotton wet through and I saw the outline of his ass-cheeks as he turned from me. I pulled on a pair of red underpants with a looney-tunes pattern. I was thin, so no belly hung forward -- in fact, each muscle on my stomach was defined. "Like my six-pack?" I asked my friends. Zach cast a slow eye over my body, his expression an uncertain one. He smiled cheekily and pretended to punch me, his fist lightly touching my skin. Simon came from a family with quite strict parents. After the pool, he had to go home. Zach and myself, however, could return to my house, where my mother went to bed as soon as darkness fell. We prepared to get into our sleeping bags in front of the TV. Going through his bag, Zach said, "I don't know why my mum packed towels." He was far too self conscious to strip naked in somebody else's house, as I was also. I turned to the kitchen behind us and went to get a drink, and when I turned around, I saw him removing his clothes with mock pride. This was his dominant playful side. One time, at the mall, he had tried to sneak into a movie in a joking, conspicuous manner, wanting to get caught. Another time he had walked into a women's lingerie store, not seeing why I would be embarrassed to do such a thing myself. He strutted over to me, the lose fabric hanging loosely in the front but hugging his ass at the back, and took the drink I poured for him. He drank it with an exaggeratedly masculine gesture, as a cowboy might do in a saloon, and got more liquid on his face than in his mouth. I showed disgust. He laughed. "I just did that to see your reaction," he said. He turned and walked away and I slapped him playfully on the ass, loving the feel of it. Struck by sudden playfulness, I then reached forward and hooked my index fingers into the sides of his underpants, and yanked them down. He turned his head to face me, keeping his front hidden, and gave me a stern look, then slowly pulled his pants back up, so as to not seem embarrassed. "Don't do that again," he said. His contempt for such a gesture had its origins in a school camp experience we had shared. Playing around noisily after lights-out, he had attracted the attention of a teacher, who ordered him to put on his pajamas. The rest of us were in bed already. He acted shyly on that occasion, obviously embarrassed about getting down to his jocks in front of the watchful eyes of a teacher at the door. In the lower bunk bed right next to him, I couldn't resist reaching over and de-jocking him. He pulled his underpants up quickly, but I'm sure the teacher got an eyeful. He didn't forgive me for that one for quite a while. After we got into our sleeping bags, we watched the movie barely speaking a word. It was a flick we'd chosen based solely on the promise of nudity the cover displayed, and it didn't disappoint. Throughout the better parts Zach made little "ooh" noises, and moved his legs from place to place. I sat riveted, my penis hard in my jeans, uncomfortable but pleasurable at the same time. When it was over, I turned the lights out, and lay down on my pillow. Zach faced me and looked as though he had something he wanted to say. I waited for it. "Did you get a stiffy during that movie?" he asked. "Yeah," I said. He lay his head down next to mine and looked into my eyes contentedly. "Mine would be about that big," he said, and held his hand up, creating a space of about three inches in between his thumb and forefinger. "So would mine, I think," I said. He looked at me in quite gratitude. I felt very close to him, and almost wanted to reach out. After trying to sleep for a while, I stood up. I was still fully dressed. "What are you doing?" Zach asked me. "I can't sleep here," I said, and turned towards my room. He got up and followed me, clad only in underwear. In my room, I turned the light on, and quickly undressed and got under the covers. I turned on my nightlight, which I still felt I needed. "Zach," I said. "Yeah," he asked, lying in his sleeping bag on the floor next to my bed. "Have you ever masturbaded?" I asked, saying the word incorrectly. "No," he said, "I don't know how to." "Well," I said, "you know when you get a stiffy, it feels kind of good if your dick rubs against your pants?" I asked him. "Yeah?" "I think if you rubbed your dick with your hands, maybe that's what masturbation is." He looked at me with interest but said nothing. "Let's try it," I said urgently. I was really the leader in our friendship, as I was more than willing to take risks. Zach would follow me in anything, and I had intelligence enough to do it. Hence I realized this suggestion was not something likely to place our friendship in jeopardy. "How are we going to try it?" he asked me, sounding confused. "Like this," I said, trying to act as if there was nothing strange about this. I got out of bed, and lay next to Zach's sleeping bag, pulling it open so that I could see his semi-nakedness. I slowly, gently slid Zach's underpants down, and saw his penis for the first time. It was just like mine, I noticed. He'd told me that he was circumcised, and it was a little bit hot and red from the constant erection he'd doubtlessly had from the movie we had just watched. "You take it in your hand," I said, speaking as though I was explaining a maths problem to him, as I'd done countless times before, "and pull it very gently." I reached over and took his penis in my fingers beneath the head, and started stroking it. Zach made a slight gasping noise, and I saw it come to life and stand up, like a cobra at the music of a flute. I grasped it in my small hand and kneaded it's whole length. Zach bucked his hips hard against my hand, and made a sound like he was in pain, but I continued anyway. Soon, his penis quivered strangely in my hand, and spat out a milky white substances. "Whoa," Zach said, "that felt great." "Look," I said, holding a sticky finger to his face, "I got some cum." He looked at his own semen like someone studying a rare species of insect. Holding his balls gingerly, his stomach bulging out nicely, he said, "thanks for showing me that." He smiled in mild embarrassment. "I think I'm going to sleep down here today," I said, and hooked my legs over into the open fold of his sleeping bag, zipping it up. "I gotta keep an eye on you." Inside the bag, I climbed on top of him, tickling him furiously. He couldn't stop laughing. I didn't stop either; my penis was excited rubbing up against him inside my cotton underwear. Soon, exhausted, I lay beside him, my thigh draped over his body. His sticky prick pressed against the inside of my thigh, and I felt like my own was rock hard and ready to burst. I closed my eyes and had the most contented sleep of my life. The day earlier I awoke before Zach did, and resigned myself not to mention the earlier night's activities, so as to not scare him. Later, I could try for a repeat occurrence.