Blushing Brian and the Ghost in the Machine

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real people or events is coincidental. No part of this story may be reprinted without permission. Copyright by Metredose, 2024, and all rights reserved. Comments and criticism welcome. Metredose@gmail.com

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Blushing Brian and The Ghost in the Machine

Brian and the guys were throwing the ball around after school at the neighborhood park on a nice sunny late spring day, in a drowsy little town somewhere in the Northwest. Brian could run fast. When his friend Josh threw the ball way out there, Brian was on it, catching up to it and letting it glide into his arms. Brian spiked the football and did a little strutting, to show he was a real bad ass with a football, but the other guys only laughed, for Brian had never made any football team. Too skinny and a late developer in the early years of high school, and never quite big enough after that. It was disappointing, but Brian was physically more suited to baseball, and he made the team for that every year.

He picked up the ball, made a running start, and threw it back to Josh, who caught it easily without running much. Josh, like Brian, was eighteen, but the similarity between the two ended there. Josh was tall, muscular and dark, whereas Brian was fair and thin. Not too thin. He worked out and exercised a lot, trying to catch up, with baseball and many other activities. Brian was a restless young man, and just barely a man at that. Brian had been a late bloomer. A very late bloomer. Through much of high school, while other boys had seen and felt their bodies transform with muscles and body hair, Brian hadn't reached puberty at all. He played along with his friends, pretended he was going through the same things they were and that that he was a hit with the ladies, but everyone knew the truth. They humored him because they liked him.

Josh made another long pass and Brian had to run to catch up to it again. He was fast, and that was something to be proud of, and again he caught the ball. At sixteen, puberty finally came to him, and then he felt like everyone else, mostly. His voice became even and deeper, pale, wispy hair grew above his penis and in his armpits, and he finally understood why the other guys his age were so interested in girls. Puberty hit him hard, and he was still in its thrall. Just seeing a girl with big boobs gave him an erection, but really anything would do it. He got hard off and on all day, every day, even then, two years later, when he was eighteen. He wore long shirts, untucked, to conceal his problem, but the guys knew why. They'd all been through it years before.

The football was thrown back to Josh a final time, and then the guys came together to chat before heading off.

"What have you guys got going on this weekend?" Josh asked. "There's gonna be a party at Schmidt's."

Schmidt wasn't present, but everyone knew him. Josh, Brian, Dale, a tall blonde friend who was with them, and Ben, also present, who was Josh's fraternal twin brother, and who looked just like him, only bigger. They all knew and liked Schmidt because Schmidt was the party guy, whose mother never seemed to be around, and who was always able to procure alcohol whenever he wanted it. Schmidt was a little different. Schmidt didn't play sports. He liked weird music and movies, and he was kind of a loner, but his legendary parties paid for all.

"You bringing Megan?" Dale asked.

"Oh, yeah," said Josh, in a deep, somewhat exaggerated voice.

"Fuck she's hot," said Brian. "Jeez, her boobs are so nice."

"Yeah they are," said Josh. "Even nicer when they're in your hands."

"Shit," Brian said.

His fair face was flushing pink, contrasting strongly with his flaxen hair.

"You like her, don't you?" Ben said, with a wink.

But Brian was speechless. Not only was his face turning red but his penis was expanding at record breaking speed in his boxers.

"Bet you got a boner right now just thinking about her tits, don't ya, Brian?" Ben continued.

"Knock it off," said Josh. "It's okay if Brian looks. Just don't touch."

"Uh, guys, I have to go," Brian said.

"To beat off?" came Ben again.

The guys all laughed, and Brian turned redder.

"No! I gotta get home for dinner!"

Brian turned and started walking, very gingerly. Beneath his long t-shirt, his boner made a tent in his shorts and it had somehow poked through the slit in his boxer shorts. It rubbed against the zipper of his jeans in a very uncomfortable manner when he walked. The guys were still laughing. He could hear them until they were far away, and then they went out of earshot. Brian looked around, side to side, and double checked in front of him again before plunging his hand into his pants and underwear to readjust himself. He was mortified. Mainly because everything Ben said was true. He hated people knowing he got boners all the time.

When he got home, he went in the back door, hoping to avoid his mother, but she happened to be in the laundry room when he started to pass.

"How was your day, honey?" she asked.

"Fine," he said.

"Is everything okay? You're bright red."

"Probably from the sun," Brian said.

"Okay," his mom said, in a doubtful voice

Brian hurried along, went up the stairs, and closed the door behind him when he got into his room. His erection was still incredibly stiff, despite his embarrassment. Aching. When he pulled down his pants and boxers, he saw some pearly moisture at the tip of it. He had leaked. He often leaked. He often woke up in the morning with his penis glued to his boxers, encrusted by dried semen that came out when he slept. Wet dreams were common for him even though he masturbated frequently. That embarrassed him too, but he couldn't help it. He always tried to clean up the evidence after these nocturnal emissions. He really, really hoped his mom didn't know about them.

His penis stood straight up, parallel with his stomach, pointing to the sky. A slight breeze, a whispery little draft from who knows where, flowed over his distended flesh and his plump, pink testicles, and he leaked some more. A drop of fluid, clear in the light, was forced out. It descended and dangled on a thin thread, like a little spider hanging from its web. The unexplained breeze seemed to increase in force, seemed to caress his tender parts, and Brian knew if he stood there like that long enough it would cause him to ejaculate all on its own. These drafts had always been there in his room, he supposed, but he first noticed them when he finally reached puberty. When he started playing with his penis.

Door locks were not allowed in the Jacobs household. Brian's little brother didn't have one, his little sister didn't have one, not even his parents had one. But Brian, usually fairly cautious, didn't care. He spit in his hand. He enclosed his hard flesh in an iron grip. And he stroked. One, two, three frenetic beats, up to the count of ten, and then Brian's body tensed and he ejaculated high up into the air, five, six, seven times, the thin arcs of seed rising up then plummeting down to the carpet several feet away. It was over within seconds. He got dressed again, and tucked his penis away. There was homework to be done.

After dinner with mom, pop, the whole family, Brian got a call from Josh. He hesitated to answer, still smarting with embarrassment, but by the third ring his resistance evaporated.

"Hey, buddy," Josh said. "How are you?"

"Okay."

"Listen, I'm sorry about earlier. Don't take it seriously."

"Why would I? It happens all the time. I'm used to it."

"Don't be like that. I'm trying to apologize. No one meant any harm."

"Why does your brother have to be such an asshole? He always picks on me and then the other guys join in. I'm sick of it."

"I had a talk with him."

"He never changes."

"I think he's trying. Give him a chance."

"Fine," Brian said.

"See you at school tomorrow?"

"Yeah, sure."

Brian hung up and turned off his phone. He didn't want to talk to anyone. He undressed, but not all the way. His boxers remained on, as they always did, in case of another wet dream. He lay down, feeling that strange little draft that seemed to be focused on his bed. He meant to masturbate again but fell asleep before he had the chance.

In the morning he regretted it. His dick, trying to get hard, was once again glued to his boxers. Brian knew better than to pull. Pulling the fabric away from his stuck penis not only hurt a great deal, but could also pull the skin from his tender parts right off. He learned that the hard way and he never wanted to experience it again, the red, raw skin that burned when anything touched it, and precluded masturbation. He'd walked around for close to two weeks with a perpetual erection when it happened before, frustrated, unable to relieve himself, and it nearly drove him batty.

He got up, very gingerly, and padded to the bathroom. He filled the little cup that was in there with water, then poured some onto his crotch. Once wet, the fabric slid away from his flesh quite easily. He turned on the shower, slipped off his boxers, and hopped inside. He soaped everywhere, lathered up over and over, under his wispy pits, beneath his balls, in his ass crack. Those were the most important places because they were the smelliest in warm weather. Once rinsed, he turned off the shower, dried off, then wrapped himself in the damp towel and went back to his room, tossing the towel and his boxers into his clothes hamper.

The hour was early. Brian was surprised by how early when he checked his phone. He didn't bother to dress, but he did shut his bedroom door before laying down on his bed again. A few extra minutes of sleep were not his goal. His goal was to get off again in the hopes that he wouldn't experience embarrassing and unwanted erections while he was at school. Even the thought of masturbating made Brian hard, and it mattered not at all that the air in his bedroom was much cooler than it had been in the shower. On his back, he looked down at his penis as it stretched out and lengthened. Brian was pretty sure he had a small penis, judging by comparison to the guys he saw on Pornhub videos, interacting with women. But it didn't bother him too much. No one knew but him, and he planned to keep it that way until he met the right girl. What did it matter what size it was when it gave him so much pleasure?

It was a lovely shade of creamy pink and gentling throbbing to the beat of his heart when it was at full staff, extremely stiff and extremely needy. Beyond and below his erection, his plump testicles, a much deeper shade of pink, had tightened up close to his body. They knew the routine. They knew to be ready because they might be summoned into action within seconds of Brian touching himself. But Brian did not touch himself. He let those drafts of wind, focused on his center, waft over his engorged genitals. A pearl of semen was squeezed out, then another, in reaction to the whirling drafts. It was strange. Brian knew it was strange. But it felt good and Brian let the little winds work their magic. He had plenty of time. There was no hurry. He closed his eyes and relaxed.

The air flowing over his intimate parts was rather chilly, and that added a certain edge. It whispered over his balls, swirled around his hard penis like a little tornado. A sharp intake of breath, a sharp gasp as Brian's penis suddenly tensed. It rose up away from his body, reaching for the ceiling, and then the moment was lost and the tension collapsed. But the little winds whipped up even stronger, or so it seemed, and then his penis started rising up again, the tension stronger this time, almost too strong, but it didn't collapse. The stiff penis bent up and up, rising up and away, until it could go no higher. Then it reared back like a shotgun and exploded, jerking frantically up and down as a series of powerful emissions blasted forth, flinging seed way up Brian's torso, even to his chest, aided only by the little winds and not by Brian's hand, which hadn't left his side for the whole ordeal.

He'd gotten off that way so many times that it seemed normal to him. He never really questioned it even though he was aware that it probably wasn't the way other men satisfied themselves. Those same little winds, a couple of years before, had coaxed Brian's penis into its first ejaculation, leaving Brian shocked and breathless, but now it felt almost like routine. Brian used his hand now most of the time, but some days it was nice to let the strange winds do the work. It was always the same in the end. Brian's upper body was coated with drops and glops, many spreading pools of freshly released semen. He used tissues to clean himself up, not the towel, which would have left tell tale evidence for his mom to find. When he was done mopping it all away, he dressed, went down to the toilet, and flushed the tissues away, to where no one would ever find them.

At lunch that day, Josh again apologized, and Brian accepted it. They ate together but the other guys were off doing other things. Ben was not with them, and that was strange, because Ben never missed a meal, and he usually had it with his brother. Brian was glad he wasn't there. Ben laughing at him had gotten old, and it didn't matter any more if he said he was only joking. That excuse was no longer going to fly. They were all seniors at their high school, and Brian had decided it was time to make some changes. Big Ben would be the first to be cut from his team, in football speak. Brian was planning on getting serious now that college was only months away.

Josh again asked him if he was going to Schmidt's party that Saturday night, and Brian said he would, but he secretly had no intention of going. He had something special planned for Saturday, something he'd been planning for quite awhile. It was to be his first parent free weekend at the house, the first time his folks were willing to trust him on his own when they went on a trip. They were going to see his great aunt Vi, who was elderly and had been under the weather for some time. Brian had begged off, saying he had too much studying to do for school, and miracle of miracles, it worked. Even better, Brian's little brother and sister would be going along with his parents. He would have the house to himself, and it gave him shivers of joy whenever he thought about it. He did not want Josh or Dale or anyone else to find out, and most especially not Ben. Brian was greatly looking forward to some time by himself.

Schmidt had parties regularly, so he would have to catch the next one, he guessed. Brian didn't actually like Schmidt's parties. He felt awkward at them. Oh, the first few times were nice. He felt very adult when he drank his first illicit beer, and that was fun for a while. But he couldn't handle more than two without feeling sick, and even one made him sloppy. What was worse, though, was feeling like a third wheel. Josh and Dale always had girlfriends with them, and sometimes Ben, too. They kidded him about not having one. But Brian got nervous and tongue tied when he was around girls he found attractive. He said stupid things in their presence, the wrong things, and he was apt to trip over his own shoelaces.

Alcohol made things much worse. It took a little of the nervousness away, but not all of it, and when he got up the courage to talk to a girl, what came out of his mouth sounded like childish bragging, which was not him at all. Maybe the childish part, up until two years before, but he was a modest young man. Bragging, in those situations, was like protective armor. It was almost like he wanted to fail with those girls, and deep down, Brian knew that it was because he didn't think he was good enough for them anyway, so he had nothing to lose. It was still a bitter disappointment every time he made an ass of himself, every time he was subtly rejected, even though he kind of made it happen himself.

Brian said his goodbyes to Josh and headed to his next class, calculus. He was good at math and even enjoyed it, sometimes. No one he knew well was in the class, but there was a girl he liked, Emma. She was very pretty, brunette and with an olive skin tone that reflected a mixed race heritage. Her last name was Chen, and Brian figured out right away that she was part Chinese, which pleased him. She'd always been nice to him and seemed to be nice in general, but Brian had never seen her at one of Schmidt's parties and so had never had the opportunity to talk to her much outside of class. They ran in different circles.

The lesson was long, but Brian followed it closely, because he knew to miss even one formula could lead to a quagmire of incomprehension in that class for the rest of the school year. But Brian's mind wandered away after a while, thinking about the coming weekend of freedom, and it wasn't until the teacher called his name that he came back down to earth. He apologized for drifting off, and that was that, but he had caught the eye of another student, who was staring at him closely. Her name was Maria. She had once dated Ben. Brian started to turn pink. He realized, all of a sudden, that his legs were moving butterfly fashion under his desk, something that happened to him a lot when he was sitting but not thinking. These motions always, but always, gave him an erection, and he knew then that he had another one. And Maria knew it, too.

All day his body had behaved, but now it was again betraying him. He watched as Maria leaned over and whispered into the ear of another student, who promptly giggled and then looked directly at him. Brian's face flushed red, as it often did, but Maria didn't stop there. She whispered into another ear, and then another, and soon there were several girls giggling at him. By the time Maria whispered into Emma's ear, Brian wished he was dead. He might have asked for permission to go to the bathroom, but that in itself would seem suspicious to the girls, and besides, his erection was tenting out the front of his pants in a way that not even his long t-shirt could disguise. Brian looked down at his book and would look at nothing else as his face turned nearly scarlet. He kept willing his erection to subside, but it took no mind, and kept itself raging hard to spite him, it seemed. When the bell rang, none of the girls got up. They sat watching him, waiting for him to stand up and humiliate himself. Only when the teacher told them to leave did the girls file out, and then Brian got up, carrying his book bag in front of him until he reached the door.

Outside, Maria and her friends were waiting. Brian took one look and then took off, headed for the bathroom, raucous laughter again following him until he was far away. He was hyperventilating, his chest rising and falling as he tried to pull in enough air and then expel it again. He told himself he wouldn't cry but there was no stopping the tears. He closed the door to the toilet stall and sat on it for a long time, his body heaving, his face hot and painful with stinging tears. Never in his life had he felt so terrible, but his tears stopped when he realized who was to blame. Ben. Maria, when she dated him, had seen Ben make fun of Brian many times, and she'd even done it herself a few times. Maria was a bitch, but Ben was the instigator. And then the thought came to him that Ben had put Maria up to it, and that's when his anger really set in. Impotent anger, because Josh was his best friend but Ben was Josh's brother. Anything he said or did to Ben would get back to Josh, and Brian well knew that family was what was most important when the chips were down.

It wasn't like he could take Ben in a fight, anyway. The guy was huge, muscles upon muscles, and he was tough, too. How many times had he seen Ben bounce right back up on the football field after hits that would have sent him, Brian, to the hospital? What course of action was left to him? He didn't want to get his ass kicked and he didn't want to lose Josh. It all seemed very hopeless, but Brian was thinking some way, some how, he would have his revenge, and when it happened, Ben would feel as bad as he did in that moment. Ben would suffer. Brian would be patient. He would bide his time. But there was an anger in his heart that he knew wouldn't die until he was avenged. It felt truly awful to have so much hurt and anger inside. It felt like a burden. Brian was a happy go lucky guy. He wanted to get along with everyone. He hadn't an unkind word in his head, much less his tongue, but Ben had pushed him too far.

Brian waited out sixth period in that bathroom, and waited until long after the school had closed to emerge. No one was around but an old janitor, and for that he was grateful. He walked home and managed to avoid his mother before going upstairs. He was miserable enough to see homework as a pleasant distraction, and so he got straight to it.

Later, at dinner, his little brother and little sister were especially annoying, as if sensing his mood, sensing his vulnerability. But his mother shushed them. She gave Brian a sympathetic look, but said nothing until later, when his dad and the kids had gone to watch TV.

"Is everything okay?" she said. "You seem upset."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay," she said. "But if you change your mind, I'm here for you."

He went back up the stairs. His anger was nearly gone by then, replaced by a low depression that was foreign to him. He kept wondering why people like Ben and Maria had to be so awful to other people. What hurt most was that Emma had witnessed everything, had laughed with the rest of the girls. He'd misjudged her. She was as bad as any of them, and Brian's heart hardened towards her in that moment. It was early, but his homework was done, and Brian was in no mood to watch television. He undressed and went to bed.

A nagging discomfort woke him up. Brian slept on his tummy, and always had, but it wasn't his tummy that was bothering him. It was his penis. Hard as a rock, wedged between his body and the bed, it cried out for attention. When he flipped over, the little drafts of wind started, flowing in through the slit in his boxers, despite the fact that he was under blankets. Exasperated, Brian shouted at it in the darkness.

"No! You've gotten me into enough trouble today!"

He flipped back over, determined to ignore his erection. It took him a long time to fall back asleep, but he did. And in the morning, a pleasant surprise! His penis, for once, was not glued to his boxers. He had not had a wet dream, and that made for a promising start to his day, but it was a day he dreaded nonetheless, due to the incident in his calculus class. Brian thought about staying home sick, but he knew he couldn't do that forever, and so he decided to not delay facing the problem. He got up, got dressed, and headed for school.

By fourth period, Brian started feeling more at ease. No one had teased him. No one had even mentioned the incident of the prior day in his math class. As far as he could tell, it had not spread all over the school as he had feared. Brian sat through his boring history class thinking of his good fortune, and trying to convince himself that what happened with Maria wasn't a big deal anyway. Guys in high school got boners all the time, often at inconvenient times. What was out of the ordinary, really, was Maria making a big fuss about it and trying to use it to hurt him. Brian wondered why. Had it really been Ben who convinced her to do it? But how would Ben know that he would get aroused in that class?

Ben couldn't know. His irrational anger from the day before had caused him to think that, but Brian now realized it probably wasn't true. It was all on Maria. For reasons he couldn't fathom, she wanted to hurt him. He didn't recall ever having done anything that would hurt her. In fact, he'd always been pleasant to her despite her sometimes going along with Ben's teasing. Brian was at a loss. He wasn't completely over what had happened in the classroom the day before. He was thinking of ways to slight Maria, to get back at her when she attacked him again, which, he thought, she would surely do.

He had to be bold. That he knew. He had to embarrass Maria the way she had embarrassed him. He could tell her that his boner was emphatically not caused by her, and that no future boners would be caused by her, leaving her to question her own possible shortcomings. Or he could catch Maria's attention from across the classroom and point to her boobs, insinuate that her nipples were hard, and then start whispering about it to other guys in the class. Yes, that was a good one, Brian decided. That was a precise type of revenge. If nothing else, it would make Maria feel self conscious.

But in the end, when fifth period rolled around, Brian could bring himself to do neither of these things. He just wasn't a mean spirited person. Instead, midway through class, when Maria started in on her whispering and pointing, he flipped her the bird. A sour expression came over her face. Her lips puckered up like she'd just bitten into a lemon, and her eyes became hard. The pointing and whispering stopped, and that was enough for Brian. He ignored Maria through the rest of the period, and felt both relieved and satisfied by this simple, defiant gesture and its effects.

After school, Brian rushed to get home because it was a Friday afternoon, and his family was headed out on their trip. When he got there, he caught his father in the driveway, dragging a couple of suitcases toward the car. Brian waved at him, tried to walk past, but his father stopped him. The man, who looked very much like an older version of Brian, with his blonde hair and lean, boyish face, looked at his son with serious eyes.

"We're trusting you to take care of the house while we're gone," he said. "Trusting you in general. I hope you don't have anything wild planned."

"Dad, I'm not throwing any parties, if that's what you mean."

"I was your age once," his father said, with skepticism. "You're eighteen and have the house to yourself for the whole weekend. Just make sure that everything is in one piece when we get back."

Brian smiled and his dad smiled back, and they seemed to understand each other. But Brian couldn't leave it at that.

"I'm really not going to have anyone over, dad. I swear. But it will be nice to be the man of the house for a while. I won't let you down."

"I know you won't," he said.

Brian moved on, but his dad called back to him.

"Don't forget to feed Rolly," he said.

Rolly was the family dog, an old, fat yellow lab who had seen better days. Most of the time Rolly just slept.

"I won't," Brian said.

On his way to his bedroom, Brian heard noises in the bathroom. When he looked, his mother was there, packing a small bag with toiletries.

"Almost done?" Brian asked.

"Are you that impatient to be rid of us?" his mom asked.

"No, just don't want you to be late."

Brian was smiling and his mom smiled back at him.

"You be good while we're gone," she said.

"I will."

"There's plenty of leftovers in the fridge," she said.

"I know."

"And, if you want, you can all out for delivery. I've left some money in the kitchen."

"Thanks," Brian said.

"Honey, are you sure you don't want to come and see your Aunt Vi? There's still time to pack a bag."

"No, mom. I have a paper due on Monday. And I am kind of looking forward to being by myself."

"Okay," she said, but there was a trickle coming down her left eye.

"Don't cry. Jeez, Mom, I'm eighteen. I'll be alright."

"I know," she said, wiping away the tear. "It's just hard to accept that you're all grown up."

She pulled Brian into a long hug, and when it was over, she went back to her packing. Brian breathed a sigh of relief when he finally made it to his bedroom. He pulled off his book bag and changed into shorts and a t-shirt. It was another warm day and Brian wanted to be comfortable. A while later, his mother and father both came up to his room to say goodbye. He shook hands with his father, and his mother gave him another hug, and then they left. Brian counted down the seconds. He listened as the door to the house closed. He listened as the car turned on. He watched from his window as it backed out of the driveway, and proceeded down the road, and then into the distance.

Brian immediately undressed. He hadn't planned on doing it, but his first moment of freedom inspired him to get naked. The little gusts of air started up around his genitals, but Brian barely noticed. He walked about in his room, then headed into the hallway and then downstairs, his balls bouncing wildly with each quick step. Never before had he done such a thing. He wandered throughout the house, as if showing himself off for the first time, hormones surging through his young body, and something else, something that was new to him. This sense of power he had never felt before. Of course his penis reacted. It was already twitching and filling with blood when he'd stripped off his clothes upstairs, and was now stiff as anything, leading the way as Brian entered every room of the house. He felt so wonderfully free.

Eyeing the television, Brian plopped down on couch and turned it on, his boner pointing straight up in front of him. Those little winds which so frequently accompanied nudity in his room whipped up, caressing his penis with soft little whispers of motion, and he felt like he might have an orgasm just watching a car show on one of the stations. He did not want to have an orgasm, not then, not that day. He wanted to save it for Saturday, when he had something special planned. Something secret. So he turned off the TV, went upstairs, and took an ice cold shower, a long one. It was the only thing he knew besides an orgasm that would make his penis go down again.

Dried off and dressed, Brian called Josh, who answered immediately and told Brian he and the guys were at the park again, throwing around the ball. Brian headed out to meet them, feeling as happy go lucky as he ever had. But at the park, in addition to the usual guys, Josh, Dale and Ben, there were a few girls watching them play. One of those girls was Maria. Brian's heart sunk at the sight of her. Another of the girls was Emma, and then there was a blonde girl he had seen at school but didn't know. As soon as he walked into range, Josh fired off a bomb. Brian ran to catch it, then walked it back and handed it to Josh.

"What are they doing here?" Brian asked.

"Just hanging out, I guess. Why?"

"Maria's a mean girl. I don't trust her. Especially since she's talking to your brother."

Josh shrugged.

"Are you going out for a pass or what?" he said.

Brian ran as fast as he could, gaining some ground before Josh launched the ball. After Brian caught it, he tossed it over to Dale, who was standing near Ben and the girls, signaling with open arms. Dale, in turn, passed back to Josh. They repeated this a few times, working off a bit of energy, and then Josh signaled to Brian to go out long. He launched the ball and Brian scrambled after it, not arriving on time, and missing. He bent over and picked it up, and was about to throw it to Dale when Ben shouted to him.

Brian looked his way. Ben was standing next to the girls. Suddenly, two of them, Maria and the blonde girl, lifted up their shirts and undid their bras, flashing their breasts at him from afar. Brian froze, completely stunned. He noticed every detail, his mind filling in the blanks caused by the distance. Color crept quickly into his face. His penis crept quickly up in his shorts. The surprise of it, the shock, left him speechless. Maria's voice sailed through the air.

"Got another boner, Brian?" she yelled.

Ben and the girls broke out laughing. Even in the distance, it was loud and raucous. Brian stood there not knowing what to do. Several emotions clanked around inside of his brain all at once. Anger, humiliation, fear, exasperation, sadness, all intensified and confused by his growing arousal. He dropped the ball. He started walking back the way he'd come.

"You guys are assholes," came the booming voice of Josh.

He must have ran very fast, because soon he caught up to Brian, and was walking beside him.

"Don't let them get you down," he said.

"How can I help it?" Brian said.

He was crying, and that made it worse. Crying like a little kid. There was some distance now between he and the girls, and his back was turned on them, so at least they didn't see him. But Josh saw. Josh knew.

"Let's go down for a burger," Josh suggested.

"Just leave me alone!"

Brian stomped off, anger coming to the forefront of his emotions, but Josh kept following him.

"Would you just stop a second so I can talk to you?" Josh said.

"There's nothing to say."

"You're my best friend, and I don't like to see you hurt."

"Tell that to Ben. He's the one who started it."

"You think he put Maria and Kari up to it?"

Brian stopped. He turned and looked at Josh.

"What do you think?" he said, in a sarcastic tone.

"You're probably right. I can't figure out why Ben acts like that."

"He's an asshole. What else is there to say? And he's your brother. It's not like I can avoid him."

"He was never that bad before. Something is going on with him."

"Whatever," Brian said. "I really don't care."

Brian started walking again. This time Josh didn't follow him.

Not ten minutes after he arrived home, Brian heard a knock at the door. He didn't want to answer it, but he caved quickly. It was Josh, again. Brian groaned.

"Could you just leave me alone?" he said.

"Not `til I know you're alright."

"I'm fine. Really. I'd just like to be by myself."

"Why won't you talk to me? I thought we were friends."

Brian sighed, and his resolve faltered.

"We are. Best friends. At least you're my best friend. I don't know about you."

"You're my best friend, too. I guess I'm just worried about you, Bri. I don't want you to feel bad because of those assholes."

"I'll get over it. I mean, eventually. Thanks for caring. It means a lot."

Josh smiled, and then he did something that surprised Brian. He pulled him into a bear hug. A close one that lasted a long time. Brian closed his eyes. He let Josh squeeze out some of his misery. Strange, how a big, rugged guy like Josh would know just what he needed. But it was a big part of why they were friends, Josh's surprising sensitivity, and his unexpected acts of kindness.

"Feel better?" Josh said, when he let Brian go.

"Yeah. Thanks."

"I'll go, then. But call me if you need to talk. If you need anything."

"I will," Brian said.

He gave Josh a weak smile, then saw him out.

Alone again, Brian wondered what he should do. His joy at being alone in the house for the weekend had been dashed by Ben, Maria, and the other girl, and he certainly felt no urge to throw off his clothes and go streaking through the house again. But he was beginning to feel better. Fully clothed this time, he watched TV for hours, until he was good and tired, and then went to bed.

Excitement, and also fear, percolated through young Brian's body soon after he tossed off the grogginess of the morning. For the second straight day he had managed not to have a wet dream while he slept, and he was extremely horny because he also had not masturbated during this two day period, which was some kind of record for him in the past year. He woke up with an erection. He showered with an erection. He dressed for the day with an erection. He ate breakfast with it, too. It just wouldn't go down. Normally, he would simply relieve himself or allow the weird winds that lived in his bedroom to do it for him, but he had something special planned for that day and somehow resisted the urge to give in to nature's call.

He had been planning it for a long time, this special treat for himself, and as the minutes ticked by his sense of anticipation alternated with a sense of dread. He checked the clock on his phone, again and again, and occasionally checked the date, just to be sure, and all the while his heart beat rapidly and a gentle pink color flushed his pale cheeks. He tried watching TV, tried ten different ways to distract himself, but in the end he just sat on the couch in the family room, staring off into space, willing himself to be calm. But when the doorbell rang, around eleven thirty, he nearly jumped out of his skin.

Immediately, Brian's heart started pounding in his chest, and he could feel the heat rising in his face. He sat still for a while, too ashamed to move a muscle, and then the doorbell rang again. Brian took a deep breath and got up. He went quickly to the door and opened it. A man in the well known blue patterned shirt of an Amazon delivery driver stood there holding a package. The man was black, which surprised Brian and somehow made his embarrassment worse. He knew by the heat at his cheeks that his face had flushed to the color of a ripe strawberry.

"You alright, son?" came the man's deep voice.

His eyes seemed to sear into Brian's.

"Yeah," Brian squeeked.

"Okay, just checking. Guess this must be for you."

He handed Brian the package, and winked at him. The heat spread in flames over Brian's face until he was flushed and burning.

"Sure you're alright, son?" the man said.

"I'm fine," Brian said.

Again it came out like little squeaks.

"Must be a real special package," the man said. "Bet I can guess what's in there."

Brian shifted his eyes down to the ground in shame. He knew his face must've been the color of a valentine's rose by then. He slowly shut the door without another word, without another look. A deep, deep chuckle came through from the other side, and Brian knew then without a doubt that the man really did have a good idea of what was in the package. Humiliation coursed through his body, and his heart was hammering hard in his chest. He bolted the door and bounded up the stairs to his room, where he sat on the bed for a long while until his heart rate and his breathing returned to a semblance of normality. And then he retrieved a pair of scissors from his desk and opened the box.

Inside was a sex toy. Not just any sex toy, oh no. Not just any pocket pussy. It was called an automatic male masturbator. When Brian had first seen it being used on Pornhub, he had to have one. He didn't care how or when, but he had to have one. He had waited a long time. His parents' trip had fortunately been discussed well in advance, and so Brian was able to purchase the thing and have it delivered on the exact day when his family would be gone. And now, finally, it was there. Despite his earlier embarrassment in front of the delivery driver, his cock began to fill with blood again, and then it twitched furiously as he stared at his new toy.

It was a real beauty in Brian's eyes, of seemingly complicated construction. The outer shell was a cylinder, roughly ten inches in length, made up of two parts. About a third of the cylinder was made of black plastic, and it featured a button for power, a button to increase speed, and a button to decrease speed. The rest was a clear plastic shell ending in an opening made of white rubber in the shape of a thin doughnut. The hole, Brian noted as he lifted the thing out of its box, was too narrow for his penis to fit into, but the rubber was pliable. The doughnut hole would help seal his penis inside and prevent any liquid from escaping while the apparatus was in use.

Lifting it toward the light from the window, Brian looked at it more closely. Inside the clear plastic tube was another tube, smaller, again clear in color, but made of some kind of flexible material. Brian didn't know if it was rubber or plastic or maybe something else, but it was round, and the perfect width and length for a hard penis to fit snugly inside. It was also covered, on the inside, with knobs and bumps that would glide over a penis when the machine was turned on. It was attached to a metal rod protruding from the black plastic side of the machine.

Brian had seen the thing being used on Pornhub. He knew how it worked. The inner plastic sleeve, attached to the protruding rod, moved up and down over an inserted penis, but it didn't end there, for the thing also rotated as it moved up and down. The young man Brian had seen using it on Pornhub had been driven to the heights of ecstasy by the machine, and he could only imagine how good it felt. The best part was that it did all of the work for you. Brian liked that. It would be just like the little winds, the little breezes that often brought him to orgasm all on their own, without any work on his part being necessary. But, he knew, it would be infinitely more intense. In his undergarments, Brian's stiff cock was leaking copiously in anticipation.

Curious, Brian pressed the power button. Nothing happened. He pressed again and again, and still nothing happened. What was wrong? Was the machine missing some part? Brian was very eager and he could barely stand to wait. His penis thrummed with excitement. But try as he might, he couldn't get his new toy to work. He checked the box, and that was when he noticed the cord to the battery charger. Shit. Double shit. The box also contained lubricant, and some kind of bracket that could be used to attach the machine to a wall so that it was stationary, and then there was the small instruction manual. Brian grabbed it and skimmed through its contents. He learned how to use the charger and also the amount of time it would take to charge. Two hours. He thought he might die in the meantime. But there was nothing for it. Brian hooked up the charger and scurried out of his room, afraid he'd be tempted to get himself off before he could use the machine. His dick was really nagging at him.

Downstairs, Brian turned on the TV, but he barely saw what was on. His mind was bent on the machine and his dick ensured that he couldn't forget it. It absolutely refused to go down, refused to give him any peace. Brian kept checking his phone to see how long it had been since he started the charger, and at one point he had just picked it up when it started to ring. The last thing he wanted was to talk to anyone, but then again, a distraction might ease his suffering. When he pressed the button, Josh's voice came through.

"What's going on today, Bri?"

It took a lot of effort for Brian to try to sound casual, as if he wasn't dying inside.

"Oh, nothing. Just sitting around."

"Yeah, me too. Wanna hang out?"

"Not today," Brian said. "I have to finish a report later on and I better get to it."

"Okay. What about tonight? Should I pick you up for the party?"

"What party?"

"Schmidt's. We've only been talking about it all week."

"Oh, yeah. I don't think I can make it. Too much work."

"What's with you lately," Josh asked, in an exasperated voice.

"What do you mean?"

"You haven't been yourself."

"I'm fine," Brian said. "I just need some time alone. Is that too much to ask?"

"No, but-"

Brian hung up the phone before Josh could finish. He'd had enough. Talking had not proved a good distraction. He waited for Josh to call back, but he didn't, and Brian thought maybe he had finally gotten the message. Guilt started to come to him, but he pushed it away. Josh would just have to go to the party without him, and there was nothing wrong with that.

The next two hours passed as slowly as any Brian could remember. It was pure torture, sitting there with an insistent erection, being incapable of doing anything but counting the seconds and minutes, and constantly checking his phone. When at last it was over, Brian bounded back up the stairs and started peeling off his clothes. At long last, it was really going to happen. His first insertion, his first penetration. Sure, it was just an inanimate sex toy, but it was something, and Brian knew it was going to blow his mind.

He was down to his boxer shorts, and carefully pulled them away from his boner before pushing them down. He disconnected the machine from the charger, set it on his bed, then grabbed the lube from the box. He knew to drip some of the lube into the inner sleeve of the machine, and he knew he had to lubricate himself as well, and that was dicey. He almost came just from the feeling of the cool liquid being spread over his jumping erection. Finally, he crawled onto the bed and mounted the machine, holding it in place with one hand. His dick, poised at the little hole in the rubber doughnut, lubricated it further with precum. He pressed the power button on the machine, and it lit up in electric blue, signifying that it was ready to receive him.

This is it, Brian thought. This is the moment.

With gentle but steady pressure, his hips moved slowly forward, and his penis broke through the resisting doughnut hole and slid into the knobby sleeve. Before he even had the chance to turn the machine on, Brian began ejaculating, sending fierce torrents of pent up seed into the heart of the apparatus. The bumpy sleeve clutched at his penis as he unloaded days worth of cum, his young body quaking and groaning at the intensity of the release. Brian withdrew immediately upon completion, his spent penis unable to tolerate the tight, knobby sleeve post orgasm. But he knew it wouldn't be long before he would try it again.

In the meantime, he decided to get down with some homework. He had no report to do. He'd lied to Josh and his mother. But there were other things, and he found his mind suddenly clear and focused as it hadn't been for quite a while. So it went by quickly and easily, and by the time he was done, his penis had recharged just as surely as the machine had. He went over and picked the machine up, and noticed it was all gooey inside. He'd forgotten to clean it, which was not good, but it meant that he didn't need to bother with lubricant. Brian lay on his back this time, and pressed the `on' button of the machine to see if it really worked. It lit up blue and then it kicked into gear immediately when he pressed the button labeled with a plus sign. He watched as the sleeve went up and down inside the cylinder, rotating the whole time, and new he had to have it on his dick.

As a precautionary measure, he lubed up his penis again, which was fortunately a little less sensitive than usual, having achieved such a satisfying completion not long before. He took hold of the unit and placed it on his belly, then with both hands positioned it so that the head of his erection was at the entrance of the doughnut hole. Brian was ready. Oh so ready. But just then, the little winds awakened, the winds that so frequently accompanied his masturbatory habits. They whispered over his penis, they danced over his plump pink testicles, stirring the thin, almost translucent hairs that had recently sprouted there. The breezes were unwelcome. He wanted to concentrate on his machine and the pleasurable sensations he expected it to produce in his body without distraction. But the winds grew instead of subsiding. Brian tried to ignore them as he eased his penis inside of the machine, past the doughnut hole and into the knobby sleeve.

It was a close call. A very close call. Brian could feel his boner tensing and flexing within the sleeve, and he was sure he would cum again without ever turning up the speed. The winds were still at his balls, but they could not reach his penis in the sealed chamber of the machine, and that helped. All was warm and sloshy in there, and it felt great. Brian pressed the speed button and the sleeve whirred into action, slowly descending the length of his penis, and rotating around it. He knew he wouldn't last long, so Brian turned up the speed again, gasping at the powerful sensations the knobby tube was creating on his dick. Suddenly, the little winds at his balls became much stronger, tousling the hairs in his nether regions, causing his balls to pull rapidly up tight to his body, and then the machine went wild, and Brian lost his breath as his hips jammed violently forward and his penis exploded with a ferocity he had never before known.

A sharp intake of breath, and then a loud, guttural moan, much deeper than Brian's normal voice, issued through clenched teeth, and Brian could not believe the intense pleasure, the now intolerable pleasure, and with both hands he pushed against the whirring cylinder, but it would not come off. It whirled wildly around his ejaculating penis, and Brian, now with his mouth hanging open in shock, groaned into the air, over and over, and it felt like the orgasm would never end, it felt like everything he'd ever had was blasting out of his pouches, and the machine would not stop. He pressed the power button several times. Nothing happened except the machine slowed down a little, but it was still too much, and now Brian's penis was extremely sensitive and in need of some down time after his intense ejaculation.

Again, he tried with both hands, with all of his force, to push the thing off of him, but his penis was trapped inside, and the machine showed no mercy. Brian squirmed, then thrashed at the relentless sensation, but after a few minutes he relaxed. He felt his balls tighten again and that heavy, tell-tale feeling in his penis, and then his hips reared upward again and he shot another load into the tireless machine, the wicked, knobby sleeve twisting over his flesh, the strange winds whipping at his balls, and again the feeling that every reserve stored in his balls was being coaxed out with violence.

Suddenly, the machine stopped, and Brian sighed with relief. But it was not over. He still could not push the thing off of his penis. He mopped the beads of perspiration from his brow, and then lay still, not sure what to do. Despite the overpowering intensity of his experience, Brian felt pretty good. For the first time in two years, since his body had changed and his penis was finally summoned into action, he felt completely satisfied. His mind was clear and his balls felt light, like less of a burden than they usually were, but this respite did not last long. After a few minutes, all three of the buttons on the machine flickered blue, all by themselves, and then it stuttered back into action. Brian drew in a sharp breath, and all the muscles in his body tensed at the new onslaught against his penis.

He was still hard. He knew that much. But he was sore, both his dick and his balls. It was, after all, three orgasms in a short period of time. None of it mattered. The machine whirred around his flesh, and pumped up and down, and soon the speed increased exponentially, along with the winds, that had now, somehow, breached the security of the sealed cylinder. They went at his dick as the knobby sleeve stroked and spun, increasing the powerful feelings, causing Brian to thrash wildly until he felt the next orgasm building. Then he lay still and let the machine do its work. It didn't take long. The tension in his dick built up until it could do nothing but break, and Brian's penis blasted into the sleeve for the fourth time, the machine milking him like a farmer milks the most milk-stubborn cow, draining the dregs from his testicles, draining everything he had.

Sweat now covered his body, and his breathing was ragged. The machine switched off after the last expulsion of semen in the series, but it did not relinquish its grip on Brian's penis. The young man knew it would happen again, knew that he had no power to stop it. And sure enough, long before Brian's body was ready for it, the sleeve began to rotate over him again, the winds whispering over his tender parts as if trying to breathe life into them, but his genitals were exhausted. He didn't know if he could cum again. It didn't seem possible, five times in less than an hour, but Brian had no choice but to submit.

It took quite a lot of work this time, but the machine chugged on over Brian's stiff but aching penis. He felt a little numb down there, and that was frustrating in a way, because he now wanted to get it over with, to cum fast and see if the machine would finally give him some peace. So he lay back and allowed it to happen. Brian slowly relaxed, and the sensations became gentler, not so intense or scary. A full twenty minutes went by before his penis felt the twinges, but once he felt them the machine seemed to take note, for it sped up rapidly, as if sensing an opportunity, and it filled the room with the squeaking noises of an old steam train barreling toward oblivion on a wrecked track, and then Brian could no longer remain relaxed, because it was too much, way too much, and when his orgasm hit this time he cried out in relief and pain, and he could barely feel the pulses of his own ejaculation, and wasn't really sure if there was anything left inside to ejaculate.

The machine went quiet upon completion of the orgasm. With both hands Brian pushed at the contraption, but it would not give. It started moving over him again, pitilessly, and Brian's body thrashed in reaction to the now painful sensations. His penis was extremely sensitive, and he didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He pushed and pushed, trying to get the thing off of him, and then finally had the inspired idea of slipping his smallest finger into the doughnut seal. It was a struggle, but the finger finally broke through. There was a deep whoosh of sound as the suction in the contraption was broken. Brian pushed with all of the strength in his hands, arms and shoulders, and finally, success. The machine flew off of him into the air above, twisting and turning, and sending out spirals of semen that coated every solid surface nearby with gobs and beads of pearly ejaculate, like some three dimensional Jackson Pollock painting. It landed with a soft thud on the bed, right beside his left hip.

Brian grabbed the thing, which was hot to the touch, and flung it away. His chest heaved, his flat tummy rising and falling rapidly. He was covered in sweat, especially his balls, which were soaked. His dick, still hard, seemed to tremble with relief. It was a lurid magenta color, cum smeared over the head, clinging to him, but Brian didn't try to clean himself. He could barely move, barely process what had just happened to him. He lay there for a long time as his body settled. Blood slowly slipped away from his crotch and his genitals wilted, but it took longer for his body to calm itself.

It just wasn't right. That's what Brian kept telling himself. The whipping winds, the maniacal, haywire machine. Brian knew that it wasn't the way the machine was supposed to work. The buttons hadn't cooperated. The machine had refused to release him. It had taken complete control of his body and hadn't relented until it was forced. No, it was all wrong, but as Brian recovered from the shock of the ordeal, he again realized that he felt pretty good. He was beyond satisfied. He was well and truly spent. He did not feel even the tiniest spark of arousal or need emanating from his crotch. His penis, shrunken now into an innocent looking pink snail, rested peacefully against his empty testicles.

Even so, the first thing he did when he got off the bed was to take the machine and stuff it into a drawer, out of sight and soon, out of mind. Then he went to the bathroom and moistened a wash cloth, and mopped away every speck of evidence from his ordeal that he could find. The bedding would have to be washed as well, but that could wait. An exhaustion had set in, and though Brian struggled against it, there was no hope. It was only mid afternoon but Brian curled up inside his wet sheets and fell asleep.

It must have been around two in the morning when Brian woke up, surprised to have another nagging erection after the marathon ordeal his penis had endured that afternoon. He was sore, to be sure, both his balls and his boner, but that apparently didn't matter. Nor did all of the times he had ejaculated, one right after the other. Brian groaned but reached down and grabbed his dick. He was a little raw down there, a little sensitive. Exasperated, he decided to try to fall back asleep even if it killed him.

That's when the winds started up again, full force, stronger than he'd ever felt them before. They slipped between the sheets, down to his crotch, and went crazy over his stiff penis. Brian, who had uncharacteristically fallen asleep on his back, flipped over onto his tummy, thinking he could exclude the winds that way. But they whirled over him like a dervish, and tore through the little valley between his butt cheeks, even tickling his tiny anus. That's when Brian had enough.

"No!" he shouted, aloud. "Leave me alone!"

To his surprise, the winds died in an instant, and then he knew for certain that they weren't just stray gusts, weren't just a natural phenomenon, as he'd told himself so many times in the past. The winds, against all sense and reason, were sentient. And they wanted his cum.