Naked Boy, Age Almost Eleven
By
Tim Stillman
You are alone. You are loved. You have this summer afternoon and on into night to yourself. It is Friday. School was over three days ago. You are naked here at two thirty p.m. The house is nicely warm. You are naked. One year almost ago you learned to masturbate. It is your delight. Your penis is almost two and three quarter inches hard. It is always hard. You stand in front of the living room mirror. The drapes over the windows are closed. The light of afternoon shines almost greenly. It makes you feel as though you are underwater.
The linoleum is cool under your bare feet. You look at yourself. You examine what little musculature you have. You start by tracing your face with your fingers of your left hand. You hold your eyes wide, then closed, then opened again. Your eyes are blue. Your haircut is short. Your hair is brown. You touch your neck, center. You move your hand down to your chest. You touch a finger to your tits, left one, and then right one. You do all of this slowly, suggestively. Your nipples are little brown hard berries almost invisible. You are thin. You play your hands down each of your ribs. You hold your hand over your heart to feel it beating. Thus, you assure yourself you are alive.
You turn round and look over your shoulder, as best you can, to see yourself from the back. You have a round butt, plump cheeks, your spine curves just a little. You are tall for your age. You turn round again. Your penis sticks straight out. It does indeed look like a little stick. You do not touch it. You make it move a bit up and down just by willing it so. You stretch out your groin V to the mirror, as though offering yourself. You are pale from not being in the sun a lot. This will change as summer goes along. You will become brown. You are now the color of pink coral.
Your penis wants you, begs you, to touch it. Its slit you open and move it back and forth, as you smile at it, for it looks like a mouth opening and closing. It stretches to your hand, like a puppy begging attention, so wanting to be petted. You rub your hand over your smooth groin. You take your hand away. Your penis stays hard, and arches a tiny bit. You smile into the mirror. You have not very good-looking teeth, so you smile little. Your face has a vague looking at somewhere else expression to it. This has been commented on, but it is your right to have your face, your eyes, and your mouth look as they do.
You put your head over and kiss each shoulder as best you can. You put your arms around your tiny waist and turn away, to look backward at the long full-length mirror, to see yourself as though someone else's arms are holding you. This makes you a little sad. You take your arms down, and turn frontward again. Your navel is an innie. Once you put a finger into it and pushed in, which made your body feel like painful electricity was shooting through it, not like the nice exciting electricity you get when you make your tits hard.
You stand now with your penis put between your legs and you wonder if this is how girls look. You pose with your head thrown back a bit and smiling as seductively as you know how from the movies. You stand this way for a moment, right hip at an angle, and then you stand normally again. Your hard penis is hurting now, so you take it from between your legs. It pops up like in a pop up book and you laugh because that is funny. Wouldn't that make for a fun pop-up book in the school library?
You will be eleven on September 2, which is a long way away, and the very opening day of school, which you do not want to think about, but you do wonder if you will get a Schwinn bike this time? Or maybe at Christmas? Your hands are on your penis. It has two little brown bands round the circumference of the shaft. It loves you. You begin to stroke it, and shiver from stroking it. Your balls get tight. You wonder what your boy hole looks like, but you have been scared to look, if you could figure out how. You bend back as far as you can and feel so horny, though you don't know what that word means yet. You just know that you feel good. That you feel complete within yourself. That you need no friends, no family. You have your body. And your penis.
You lean back too far and you fall, as immediately you start to laugh and the giggles come more. Then you lie on the cool green linoleum, on your side, and you look at your skinny legs and your flat tummy and start to masturbate. You tremble with anticipation. You rub with the forefinger and the thumb of your left hand, and it feels so exciting and nice. Your penis is more alive than you. You look at yourself naked and this turns you on more, as you cup your tiny balls and hold them, while with the other hand you continue to masturbate till the feeling starts and you are floating, as your whole body seems to be concentrated in that penis that is almost gloating, it is so proud of itself. You rub your hand down your chest and legs.
Then you scissor your left leg upward for that makes it feel better. It is starting to happen, as you pull in and out your entire body which is now shaking, squirming like a fish caught on a hook. You almost convulse, as you hunch over far, and hold your penis as it feels so good, as it explodes with little rushing starlight going fast, and seeming soft arrows coming out and coming back over and over again. The arrows seem to have feathers on their sides and make your penis feel like it is being tickled inside. Your penis shakes as does the rest of you, as you rub faster and faster as your hard on dry cums and you close your eyes, lost in the palatial other worldly beauty of your body as you hold your penis tightly with one hand and almost milk it like squeezing an orange.
Your eyes have little light shows behind their closed lids now, and your penis is like gasping for air and taking you over, making you feel empty at the middle of you and like your entire body is rushing over the morning of tomorrow when you will be somebody and that somebody will not be you. You lie exhausted. You are perspiring. In a few minutes you will do this again. You lean up your head and pretend you are kissing someone's lips. You feel safe and warm. You cry.
You are loved.