It hurt....at first. Then it became more addictive then anydrug his peers provided.
Then it stopped. He missed it. He still felt it at times. Nomatter what he used to replace it, the experience wasn't the same.
He shoved, rubbed, pinched, fantasized, stroked and slapped.It wasn't the same.
The missing ingredient was the unknown, the possiblediscovery, the unexpected, the variation, the self-discovery and the achinganticipation.
Marc lay on the bed. He had slid his hands over his ownface, neck, chest, shoulders, arms, belly, thighs, legs and feet. His right handheld the full needing flesh sac and his left hand the tip, rubbing it with hisfingertips.
Still it wasn't the same.
He had slid in the backdoor and one of the video booths. Theother was willing; his removed clothing lay on the floor, there were no words,only sweat and fluids. But that too wasn't the same.
He hinted and was stared at. He saw the hands become fiststhen relax. The frown remained but there was a wink. The late night meeting wasarranged. The air was cool, the dugout smelly, the sex frantic. It wasn't thesame.
He wondered if it would ever be like the first. Would itever hurt or please again? Would he ever feel both scared and excited? Would heever walk away feeling like everyone watched, everyone knew and everyone mightwant to be with him?
Marc met Trumble when he was just enjoying his self-satisfactionmultiple times. He had seen someone like himself leaving the house while he cutthe grass in his backyard.
Trumble noticed and waved. He waved back.
There were others who he saw leave the neighbor's house.
He saw the man strip his shirt off while staring at him. Hehad muscles Marc admired.
"I give private life lessons" the man had said to Marc'sstep father. "Kind of a tutor" he added.
Marc heard his step father suggest he could use somelessons.
Marc didn't reply.
He saw others leaving Trumble's house, waved back at theman. Some left who were his age, others older. Some wore shorts and t-shirts,others no shirt at all. Trumble usually patted them on the back, bare shouldersor head as they left.
Marc imagined.
Then his first lesson happened. He was alone that weekendand wandered over to Trumble's house after the man offered a cola.
"Let me see you" the man said. Marc stood silently while theman's hands moved over his clothed body. He talked about muscle tone, stance,body fat and hair.
Marc removed his shirt as asked and felt his gut churn whenthe man's hands moved over his bare skin next. He lifted his arms and loweredhis pants as Trumble talked about a man's body hair.
He apologized for the erection. But Trumble didn't seemsurprised, embarrassed or attracted.
"Nice kid, we all get em" he said matter of factly. Marcbegan to relax. He stripped off the lowered clothing standing naked forinspection.
He liked his hard cock being seen, as much as the hands thatre-explored his body and analyzed.
He jumped at first then relaxed as the hand encircled andstroked him. The other hand the man used to support him as his body respondeduntil it spewed out the streams, again and again.
Marc was surprised his body did so many streams, more thanhe had urged himself in the privacy of his bedroom.
Trumble patted his butt and said it was enough for the firstlesson. Marc remained naked as he drank the cola and talked to the man. It feltexciting and satisfying to be naked in front of him.
"Another lesson when you're ready" Trumble said as he pattedMarc's bare back...as Marc left.
He couldn't stop making himself orgasm after that until thewee hours of the night. He was the porch light go on and two silhouetted bodiesleaving Trumble's house.
The air was sweet. Marc worked in the yard, sweating underthe morning sun. He wore only short, loving the feeling of being nearly nudeoutdoors.
Trumble appeared and greeted him.
"Is it too soon?" Marc asked. The man smiled and waved himin.
There was another one there. Marc didn't know if he shouldleave or not. He didn't and watched Trumble instruct the other.
Hardened Marc wanted to be next. He was. The floor was soft,but Trumble put a pillow down first. He held onto the legs and followedinstruction until his face and bare chest were covered with the other student'ssperm.
Trumble said they both did well.
He stood and felt the other's lips until he was convulsingon the other's face and body.
The other left and Marc was held back by Trumble.
He was ready for another lesson the man said.
It hurt at first. Then it became something more, somethinghe had thought about, fantasized about and tried to anticipate using items hehad pickpocketed.
It wasn't the same. It was better and he wanted it again andagain.
His step father asked what he had done that weekend.
Marc said he hung out, learned stuff and got some lessonsfrom Trumble next door.
His step father nodded.
When Trumble left, it was for a month, Marc was told.
So he waited, laying naked on his bed trying to imitate thepast but anticipating the future when he would learn more from the man nextdoor, much much more.