Finding my parents asleep sucked the air from my lungs and stung my eyes. I couldn't even pretend they cared about me anymore. They didn't even bother looking for me. I grudgingly backed out of the room and pulled their door shut. I felt ill. A painful cramp formed in my bowels. I was shuffling back to my bedroom when I heard a thump, thump, thump against the carpeted floor. It was my aged, black Labrador, Sam. Though he was too old to get up and come greet me, he was wagging his tail for me. I sat on the floor next to his doggie pillow and the thumping of his tail increased. He nuzzled my arm until I started stroking his soft, black fur. He is a faithful friend, though he's ten years old and has arthritis. We got him when I was only five. I guess you could say we were pups together. He used to sleep on my bed with me until it got too difficult for him to jump up onto it. I miss his company.
"You still love me, don't you Sam?" I asked. As if he understood me, he placed his head onto my thigh and thumped twice with his tail. I scratched his ears and belly for a while and then headed off to bed. The sound of Sam's thumping tail faded as I climbed the stairs.
At the top of the stairs, I detoured into the guest room, pulled a wooden chair from the desk over to the edge of the bed. I sat in it backwards and rested my hands and chin on the arched wooden back. I stared at the sallow face of my new debate club teammate. His face even appeared pale in the soft glow of the nightlight. He was wearing light blue, button down pajamas like I quit wearing at age ten. What have you done to my life?" I asked the sleeping alien being. "You've been involved in my life less than 24 hours and it's been turned completely upside down ever since. Are you some kind of bad luck charm? You practicing voodoo on me, or what?" He slept peacefully on, ignoring my presence and my questions.
I thought about his bent dick and the stirring sensations I felt from rubbing his back and legs in the shower earlier. Innocent as it was, the simple touch of flesh to flesh affected me. I knew deep down it was more than just overactive hormones that got me boned up from it, but I quickly pushed the thought away as I always chose to do. If I don't dwell on those thoughts, they go away and leave me alone. I mentally changed the subject by wondering if he was having one of his wet dreams. He certainly had a peaceful look on his face; satisfied even. I haven't had very many wet dreams in my life. I suppose it's because I keep the well pretty dry all the time. I flashed back to the horror of him walking into my room just as I was shooting my load. My face grew hot and flushed again at the memory. "How," I wondered, "could he have possibly gone this long without ever jacking off?" It seemed impossible to me. I felt deeply sorry for him. I wondered what private hell he was living with, worrying about his deformed dick.
I pondered again why he was still here at my house. I put the chair back and paused before leaving, taking one last glance at the lanky alien under the covers. The thought struck me to peek and see if he was boned. I fought off the curiosity and was nearly out the door when I heard my name.
"What?" I asked, turning around. "William, are you awake?"
"Please, continue the tutelage."
"Do what?" I asked. I walked back to the edge of the bed. His eyes were closed and his breathing deep.
"I'm afraid I do not fully comprehend," he said. It was obvious now that he was talking in his sleep. "Will you please resume the demonstration?"
I snickered. "Wow, he even speaks Geek in his sleep. That's hilarious." I stepped back away to head off to bed, seriously amused, when he rolled urgently from his side onto his belly and let out a low wail. The little lump of his butt bucked several times into the bed accompanied by the same soft wail. He shook all over a couple times and then it was over. His frame relaxed. A moment later, he rolled back to his side and continued all the way over to his opposite side facing the wall. He pulled his legs up into a slightly bent position and resumed the heavy, steady breathing of a deep sleep.
"Oh my God," I whispered "he just shot his wad and I was in the fucking dream." Carefully, I peeled the covers back being cautious not to disturb him. I leaned in close and breathed in the unmistakable scent of freshly spilled semen. I swiped at the wet spot with my finger, brought it to my nose and sniffed deeply, allowing it to fill my sinuses. I was fascinated by the smell of another boy's cum. The combined odor of sweet cream and rancid milk smelled almost exactly like my own. I could detect no real difference, and I smiled at that discovery.
I wondered if it would taste the same but my psyche refused to even entertain the thought of tasting it. I had a hard time convincing myself to taste my own. Often, when in the process of jacking off, I'll have every intention of licking up my spewed juice, but as soon as the euphoric high of my orgasm ebbs, I lose all interest in it.
I squinted at the screaming devil next to my bed. Its evil green eyes were glowing inches from my face. I squeezed my eyes shut and slapped it angrily on its head. It stopped its horrible screeching and clattered off its perch, swinging from its long, black tail.
I felt miserable. My head hurt, my gut was wrenched in a tight knot and I was only semi-conscious. Slowly, the realization of my situation spread into my foggy brain. Though I'd never drank alcohol, I assumed this must be what a hangover felt like. I peered out of one eye and righted the alarm clock back onto my nightstand. The green neon formed the numbers 6:35. I rubbed my hand across the brown stubble on my head. Mechanically, I sat up, stood up, and then staggered slowly toward the bathroom to drain my bladder. I'd gotten way too few hours sleep. On my way back down the hall, I stopped in the doorway of the bedroom William was sleeping in.
"You awake?" I asked. There was no answer. He was still curled up facing the wall. I grumbled and made my way back to my bed. I was way too tired to get dressed and run like I normally did at this hour. I hadn't even thought about resetting my alarm clock the night before. I crawled in, nestled into my warm spot, pulled the covers up around my neck and failed miserably in my attempt to go back to sleep. "Dammit," I finally muttered.
I sat up, grumbling, staggered back to the bathroom and started the shower. I pulled off my boxers and stepped in. I wasn't even interested in pulling on my dick like I normally would in the morning shower and it made absolutely no attempt to get my attention. It just hung there as limp and lifeless as I was. The sadness crept back over me during my shower as I contemplated living here in my house with my parents without any love attached. I trusted them to live up to their obligations toward me as a minor child and I would do my best to behave and not "embarrass" them in front of their precious friends. It would be a nice sanitary arrangement, I was sure. One thing was for certain though, I wasn't going to be putting up with any of my mom's stupid bullshit anymore.
I opened the glass door, fogged with steam, and found William sitting on the throne. His PJ pants along with my boxers he'd borrowed were down at his ankles. His pale, skinny legs, hinged by bony knees, extended from his waist to the floor. His large feet and long, skinny toes poked out from the crumpled mass of blue PJ's. His right hand was wedged between his thighs directing the flow of urine. "Do you always have to squat to pee?" I asked, without even considering how insulting it sounded.
"It is my preference, given my medical issue," he responded unemotionally. If he had been insulted, he didn't reflect it.
"That takes some joy out of being a boy. So why are you still here?" I asked. That sounded rude as well, but my brain was still too tired to sort that kind of thing out in advance.
"Following your outburst and rash departure last night, your father offered to inspect my injured genitalia. To my relief, he was extremely professional, as you purported he would be. Upon visual inspection, he promptly contacted a friend of his in the Urology Department, who actually drove over here to examine me in case my testicle was twisted. Apparently, if testicular torsion occurs following a traumatic injury, it needs to be corrected within the first six hours to prevent long term damage. Fortunately, I did not have testicular torsion; however, it was his opinion I should accompany your father to the medical complex today where he could more fully examine me. He was also significantly concerned with my penile structure. Your father phoned my mother and explained the unusual circumstances. She brought me my necessities and agreed to arrange an excused absence from school."
"That's cool. I'm glad you're getting it checked," I said. Smirking, I asked, "So, how did you sleep?"
"Most comfortably, thank you. The mattress is of superior quality."
"Did you have any sweet dreams?" I continued smirking. He immediately averted his eyes. Slowly, he peered back up at me, with a questioning look. "Yeah, I noticed," I said, "I'm pretty observant. It's cool. It's supposed to happen to us, you know? That stuff's gotta get out somehow and since you ain't jackin' it...well, sweet dreams are the only option. Besides, I bet all that touching and attention to your goods last night got your brain focused on it."
He allowed a small grin to creep across his lips and stood, keeping his privates covered with his right hand while he flushed and tried to pull up his bottoms with his left.
"Relax, dude. I've seen it already, remember?" I said. "So how's the sore nut?"
He moved his hand away and I gasped. "Shit. I mean, shoot, dude, its GROSS!" The purple, black and yellow bruising had spread over the entire ball sac and onto the immediately surrounding area of his groin. It was still very swollen.
"Yes. Quite. It remains severely painful."
"I bet. Hopefully, the urologist can help you out with that today."
"Yes, I maintain a hopeful attitude. I also am hopeful for a positive resolution on my penis."
"Yeah, you gotta get that thing fixed. I was feeling bad for you last night when I was watching..." I realized what I was about to disclose. I stopped too late though.
"Were you in my room last night?"
"For a bit. Yeah."
"To what purpose?"
"None, really. I was just on my way to bed and saw you in here and I walked in to see who it was. As I was leaving, you started having your sweet dream," I explained. He turned crimson and did not speak.
"Like I said, no big deal. It was kind of interesting to see, really. It's not every day you get to witness that sort of thing. Don't be embarrassed by it; I didn't actually see anything except your reactions under the covers." I closed my eyes and humped the air imitating the sounds he made while he was ejaculating. "Ooooh, Ooooh, Ooooh, Ahhhhhhhh."
He spun away, finished washing and drying his hands and put the towel on the rack. "Your concept of humor is appalling. I'm certain you overdramatize. I do have a question for you regarding that hapless event, however. What shall I do about the soiled sheets? I found it very disconcerting to have had this experience as a guest."
"Just make the bed. It'll dry and mom won't even notice when she pulls the sheets off to wash them, which she always does after any guest stays over."
"Are you certain?" He doubtfully asked.
He smiled, relieved, and headed off to dress. I had to do the same and we both descended the stairs together.
"Good," my father said more to William than to me, "I'm glad you're both ready to go. I have a lot to do this morning. My 'Crack-berry' has gone off non-stop all morning. Kyle never eats and you probably shouldn't either in case they want to do some blood tests, so let's go."
The invisibility had begun. No mention of our battle. No apology forthcoming. No expression of love, anger or anything else. "Say you're sorry, beg my forgiveness. If not that, then yell at me, dammit! Pull my pants down and spank me. Threaten to kick me out even, just don't ignore me. Don't just pretend nothing happened last night!" I pleaded in my mind. I struggled to act and look as unmoved and indifferent back towards him as he appeared. I swore to myself that I wasn't going to give my parents any satisfaction over this. I slung my backpack on and exited to the garage without speaking. The silent treatment was officially on.
I didn't speak the entire way to school. I muttered, "Thanks" only, as I jumped out of the grey Mercedes. Before shutting the door, I called in to William, "Good luck at the doctor, dude. Hope he can fix you up." William smiled appreciatively and I pushed the door closed with my shoe.
School sucked all morning. I was dog tired and I kept dwelling on my miserable parents. I actually didn't finish a math quiz. It was small points and I have tons of extra credit already built up in the class so it didn't really matter, but I didn't even care or feel my normal guilt over it. Okay, maybe a little, but just a little.
In debate class, I had to apologize that our research material wasn't available for inspection by Mrs. Jones. I explained that William had it and was out sick today. She wasn't too concerned knowing both William and I were always prepared. She'd never had any team win a state title, but she told both William and me that she felt we were capable of it. The excitement and anticipation in her voice was evident. It was a big deal for her to go to, whatever the hell meetings teachers go to, and have a state title under her belt, even if she did have precious little to actually do with it.
Our first debate meet was Friday. I spent the period laying out possible outlines both for the affirmative argument and the negative argument on the resolution. In every debate meet, a team had to be prepared to argue both sides of the topic. That was what appealed to me the most about debate. It wasn't just choosing a winning side of an argument; it was being crafty enough to convince someone you were right on either side.
At lunch, I ate more than I would have if I were going to be wrestling the next day. The others all just stared jealously at me. I even bought a Snickers bar off a freshman and savored every bite. When I started eating the candy bar, I made little oooh and ahhh sounds, licking my lips and swaying dreamily as if I were making love to it.
"What the fuck," Goob said, "you eating a candy bar or sucking Scotty's boner down there?" Everyone except Scotty busted up. I didn't have to make weight again until next Tuesday and I planned on talking to coach about moving up a class like he suggested. He was right about Dig being able to wrestle up a weight and honestly, we were weak at the next class up anyway so it would strengthen the team. Scotty sat directly across from me and just to be funny, I wrapped up the last half of my Snickers and peeled my banana. I held it upside down and slid it in and out of my mouth making the oooh and ahhh sounds again. The image wasn't lost on him. He got the joke alright, as did the others nearby, but he found it far less humorous than I meant for it to be.
"FU," he said with a scowl.
"Okay," I said and made like I was moving the upside down banana toward my ass, which I slipped back off the edge of the bench. Little Willy fell off the end of the bench onto the floor he was laughing so hard. The other end of the table wanted to know what was so funny. I shrugged, waved the banana filled hand and my empty hand in the air, appeared dumbfounded, and said, "Guess Willy thinks bananas are funny."
Scotty got up and stomped off. "I did it again, didn't I?" I said to myself. "I better lay off the poor guy. Why do I keep tormenting him? Because it's so easy, I guess."
English was actually interesting in the front row where I had been assigned to sit. We were discussing the Greek Odysseys. It's good that the topic actually engaged me because I was really struggling to stay awake after so little sleep and eating more than usual. I swear I heard Goob snoring in the back. I was fascinated by the Greek culture.
After school, I hurried in to the gym. I wanted to try and catch coach before practice and apologize again for yesterday's stupidity and talk to him about moving up a weight class. I got lucky and met him just outside the team locker room door. We moved to the bleachers and sat down.
"Coach, I want you to know I'm really sorry for being so stupid. I thought about it a lot last night and today, and I can't believe I did that."
"Good. Is that it?" Coach asked.
"Well, I thought about what you said about maybe moving up a class and Dig moving up a class. I think that really would be best. I will still have to work to maintain that weight, but getting any lower will kill me. Is that still an option?"
"If Dig agrees and if he earns the spot above his class. You also have to earn your spot in his class," Coach said. It wasn't really a concern. Dig and I were both way better wrestlers than anyone else at those weights. Wrestling was weird that way. It often forced you to pit yourself against your fellow teammates if you wanted to wrestle in a specific weight class. "We better get in now, you know the punishment if you're late for practice."
"Yeah, coach, I know." I didn't want to be responsible for that. The person who was late had to do pushups and sit-ups while the rest of the team did sprints. So you not only got immensely sore muscles, you pissed the rest of the team off.
As I was going in, Dig called for me to hold the door. He was sprinting across the gym floor. Today, he really was at risk of being late. We both rushed in and like always, he stripped naked in three seconds. He was still pulling on his singlet as he rushed over, still barefoot, to join the team on the mats just in time. He put his shoes on and laced them up while Coach gave the practice schedule. I hurried as fast as I could, but I was still late. Thankfully, Coach ignored my tardy and I escaped the wrath of twenty angry peers. I guess he cut me slack because I'd been talking with him. Either that or he didn't want to waste precious practice time the day before a big meet.
When Dig and I were spotting for each other, I asked him, "So what's up with getting here last minute for practice lately?"
He got a big shit-eater and said, "Rochelle and I meet up behind the wood shop and do a little snogging right after school."
"Did you just use the word 'snogging' as in Harry Potter?" I asked incredulous.
"Yeah, I think it's a great word for it." Dig said.
"If you're twelve maybe. And, if you make us all have to do sprints because you're out sucking face with Rochelle, I'm gonna be pissed. Don't expect me to have your back on that one."
"Aww, c'mon. Screw Crew has to always have each other's backs."
"If you were screwing her maybe, but since we're not the suck face crew, it doesn't count."
I couldn't explain why I was so jealous over this revelation, but I definitely was. It wasn't that I wanted to be out doing it, because I really didn't. I mean I wouldn't mind getting some make-out action I guess, but it wasn't something that occupied every waking thought like it does for lots of guys my age.
"Hey, I plan on screwing her again after ladies choice next week. You been asked yet?" Dig said.
"No, I haven't been asked. I've been thinking I need to start dropping some hints with the one's I'm interested in or I might get stuck with a mercy date." Then I continued, "You're really planning it out? Does she know your plan or you gonna surprise her? By the way, I still don't think I believe you about doing it last summer."
"Well, think what you want. I did it and it was awesome. And I'm getting back in her skirt after ladies choice. You can take it to Vegas. That's why I gotta get her primed up now with all the snogging. But if for some reason, I don't get any at ladies choice; for sure I'm nailing her after fall formal next month."
"Well, a guy needs a goal in life, I guess." I was sickened at his crassness. I like Rochelle and I don't like the idea of my buddy being so manipulative. The whole thing doesn't sit well with me at all. I wondered if they had already done it, why he would have to be scheming to do it again. I wondered if she didn't like the feeling of his giant dickhead up inside her. Maybe it hurt. I allowed myself to imagine Dig and Rochelle naked and humping like crazed rabbits and almost dropped the weight I was putting on the bar.
"Earth to Rock," Dig said. "Where the hell do you travel off to all the time?"
"Dig. Straight up. Did you really fuck her last summer?" I asked, staring him directly in the eye. I could read people pretty good and could sense most lies.
"Okay, listen. Straight up, we almost did it. We'd been feeling each other up and she'd jacked me off a couple times before that. Then, I actually got her completely naked in my room while making out on my bed when no one was home. I got to put a finger up inside her. And she was gonna let me do it, I swear she was. After I got the rubber on, though, she chickened out and only agreed to suck me off. And, she made me keep the damn rubber on for the blowjob. But shit, it was still amazing. I cummed so hard."
"Fuck, you really did do that! You're not lying!"
"Yeah. She sat on the edge of the bed and I stood in front of her. She fondled my balls and rubbed my butt and sucked my bad boy until I filled the fucking condom with a boatload of jizz. It was an amazing cum, even with the rubber on. I was sliding my fingers through her hair and humping her mouth. But all I can think about since then is sticking it up inside her. It's making me crazy. I'm sure I can talk her into it this time. I spent $60 on roses for her birthday and I thought she was gonna blow me again right there in front of her parents when I gave them to her. She was so happy."
I imagined what it might be like to suck Dig's dick like that. "Wait, no. I mean what it would be like to get sucked by a girl like Rochelle did to Dig," I mentally clarified. I was boned in my singlet. I checked, but Dig wasn't.
"I saw the roses on Facebook," I remembered. "She was pretty stoked over it. All the guys with girlfriends are still pissed at you because now all the girls expect that kind of treatment."
"I know, I've heard it believe me," he said. We chuckled as we headed back to the lockers a bit early. I detoured into a toilet stall and pulled my singlet off in there. My boner was throbbing. I sat on the edge of the toilet and leaned back against the cold, metal flushing apparatus. I had to adjust position a couple of times to avoid my spine then I fisted my dick and started whacking it full force. I imagined Dig standing naked in front of Rochelle. I imagined his boner and the condom stretched over his large knob. I imagined taking hold of it and feeling its hardness. "Ohhh, damn." I jerked forward and cupped my left hand over the tip to block the first jet of hot cum. I sat up straighter and spilled the remaining contents of my balls into my cupped hand. When the gushing stopped, I reeled off a wad of toilet paper and wiped the puddle of goo off my palm. I repeated the cleaning process several times and licked the fingers of my right hand clean.
Checking to be sure my boner had sufficiently shrunk, I wiped the globs off the rim of the toilet bowl and flushed. I collected my singlet and found Dig going through his ritual of carefully packing everything in his team bag for the next day's meet. He stripped out of his singlet and shoes and we headed for the showers just as the bulk of the team were making their way into the locker room. Kirk and Scotty were surprisingly already in there and were showering side by side. I thought that was pretty weird. Normal protocol is to leave at least one shower nozzle separation whenever possible, just like you never stand at an adjacent urinal in the bathroom if you have any other option. Weirder still is that Scotty was boned. Well that part's not weird, that's normal, but the weird part was Kirk spun frantically toward the wall when we walked in. Shortly afterward, they shut off their showers and filed past us as more guys started coming in. Kirk wasn't boned but he was puffed up enough to make it clear he had been.
"Hey, Scotty," I said as he was passing, "I'm sorry about lunch to..."
"Stuff it asshole," Scotty said and quickened his pace to get away from me.
"What was that about?" Dig asked.
"At lunch today, while you were probably off snogging with Rochelle, I kinda made fun of Scotty at the wrestling table."
Dig wanted all the details and at the end he was laughing his ass off. Willy was next to us and he started laughing about it again too. "We should call him banana boy," Willy suggested and a few others agreed. Pretty soon everyone was on board with it and Scotty had a new nickname. I plead with them not to do it, but it was too late. Pandora's box was open and there was no getting it back in.
I paid more attention than usual to the dicks in the shower and especially Dig's. I wondered just what it would look like with that giant knob perched atop his stiffened rod. It's good I'd shot my wad on the toilet or I would've boned up in the shower for sure. I took in Willy's big monster too. I wondered if it hit him in the head and bloodied his nose ever when it got boned. I played out a little cartoon image of his dick shooting straight up into a sudden boner and smacking him in the face. "Maybe he passes out from the loss of blood to his brain," I thought. I checked to see if anyone else had any unique curvatures like poor William, but everyone's seemed to hang pretty straight. I was struck by the many variations, though. Thick, thin, long, short, big knob, small knob, lots of hair, little hair, long dangly balls, short puffy balls - it was fascinating.
A sudden shove on my shoulder snapped me back to reality. "You gonna dress or just stand here in the shower all day?" Dig asked me.
"Oh, yeah. Let's go. I was just thinking about how I need to be, I mean, get a girl like Rochelle." He just shook his head. We dressed quickly and piled into Dig's mom's car and headed for home. Conversation centered around the ladies choice dance and Dig's attempts to get permission to attend the bonfire afterwards on Bodie's ranch. I told Mrs. Michaels that I didn't have a date yet but if I did get asked, I was sure my parents wouldn't care if I attended the bonfire. I assured her that his parents would be there and I would probably go to the bonfire even if I didn't get a date for the dance.
Dig's parents didn't know Bodie's family like we did because they didn't have the baseball connection. I think the fact that the few times the "Screw Crew" got caught doing stupid shit, it was usually because of Bodie's crazy ideas and so they weren't too sure about him. Like the one Halloween we made a big pile of hay on the highway and lit it on fire. It never occurred to us someone might end up driving into the ditch to avoid it. We just wanted to see it scatter if someone drove through it. It took me six months of Saturday's to work off the community service sentence from that one. Anyway, stuff like that is why I think she was being hesitant about a bonfire at Brodie's.
I walked in my house after they dropped me off and I caught sight of William sitting at the table eating. I detoured into the kitchen and dropped my backpack onto a chair. I sat next to him and nodded, "What's up? How come you're back here?"
William put his spoon back into the soup broth and dabbed at his mouth with the napkin. "I have to return for further medical work tomorrow. So your father has agreed to take me. My mother cannot miss any more work."
"Ohh. I was a little worried my parents liked you better than me and were working out a trade with your parents or something. Then I'd end up talking funny and you'd grow up to become a famous doctor curing cancer."
William snickered. "A distinct possibility, given your recent outbursts. And, I'm certain my father would be fully on board with that concept."
"So how'd it go at the doctor?"
"Most disturbing." William's countenance fell and he began fidgeting with his hands.
"I would prefer to discuss it in a more private setting." He nodded toward the dining room where my mom was polishing her silver for some upcoming fundraising dinner she was sponsoring. I nodded agreement, told him to enjoy his broth and meet me upstairs in my room.
"I'll leave the door open this time." I smiled and winked. He smiled back and slurped a spoonful of yellow broth.
I didn't even notice old Sam lying on the floor by the nightstand when I walked in. Only when he thumped his tail a couple times did I even realize he had found his way upstairs to my room. "His bones must be feeling better today than usual," I thought.
I quickly finished my biology homework. I'd finished all my other homework already. I always do the homework from my prior class during the lecture period of the next class or finish it during lunch if I have to. It's much better than dragging it home. The only class I ever usually have to bring anything home for is biology since it's the last class of the day. Then, I spread out my notes on the debate topic and started sorting through all the documentation of William's in the large briefcase he'd brought over with him. I fired up my laptop and googled the topic. I pulled out the plastic tub of documents that I'd already researched when I was partnered up with Jonah the religious freak and pulled up the cross referencing program on my laptop.
I started reading William's materials and adding them into the cross referencing. One secret to winning a debate is producing on-point documentation to support your argument and more importantly to refute the other team's evidence. That's why it's important to have volumes of reference material and to do a really good job of cross referencing. William had some incredibly good stuff in his case. I was very impressed. He had already highlighted the essential points in the articles and jotted notes in the margins.
"Well, this is a refreshing sight as compared to what I found last time I entered your 'crib'," William said as he walked in. He was in stocking feet and blue cotton slacks with a pinstriped Oxford shirt on. He pulled a chair up next to me and set his own laptop up next to mine.
"Before we start in on this, tell me what went on at the doctor's," I said, swiveling in my chair to look at him.
He shook his head slowly and said, "Mortifying. Absolutely mortifying."
"Give me all the gory details," I said.
"By circumstance, a different urologist fit me into his schedule from the nice gentleman who examined me here last evening. After a lengthy wait, I was led into an examination room by a nurse. I removed my shirt and she performed the normal tests of blood pressure, heart beat, temperature, weight and etcetera. Then she laid a cloth gown on the table and instructed me to remove all clothing including all undergarments, which she stressed, and to don the gown with the tie straps in the back. She informed me not to bother tying them as the gown would be discarded when the doctor came in anyway. Then she stepped out."
"Wow," I said, "at least you didn't have to get naked in front of her."
"Just wait. While it is true that she exited for my initial disrobing, I was later subjected to significant exposure of my genitalia in front of her. When the doctor came in, true to the nurse's warning he had me remove the gown and lay it aside. I sat stark naked on the exam table trembling, partly from cold but mostly from trepidation."
"The physician's facial expression displayed serious concern. He laid me back onto the exam table and commenced palpating my injured testicle and vas deferens as well as my healthy one. It was significantly painful as he did so. He inquired how the injury occurred and commented he had not heard that one before."
"I bet he hadn't."
"The physician called out to his nurse on his phone and requested a syringe and specimen cups. She entered with the items and put gloves on. I felt obscenely exposed lying naked on the table. To my horror, the physician directed the nurse to hold my testicles up tight against my body causing significant discomfort while he inserted the syringe into my scrotal sac and extracted multiple tubes of bloody fluid. I was mortified at being handled by the nurse. The look of concern on both of their faces was highly disconcerting. I could not stop my trembling."
"I must admit, once the fluid was extracted, the discomfort was diminished. The nurse also extracted blood from my arm for testing. The physician desires to test for testosterone, follicle stimulating hormone and luteinizing hormones, which prompt sexual development. It seems, I am lagging in my sexual maturation."
"You honestly didn't know that? Dude, except for your freakish big feet, you look like a twelve year old."
"No. How would I know? I had nothing to compare to. Seeing you naked last night was a highly enlightening experience for me. I had not previously seen genitalia of any peer. I was shocked by your hair growth and size, especially your large testicles."
"I'm just average on the scale. You're definitely way behind. So what's the deal with your dick, or penis? Sorry."
"Yes, he palpated my penis extensively. Then, I suffered the greatest humiliation of the entire day. He informed me of the need to examine it in a state of full erection. He inquired if I wanted to produce the erection or if I preferred him to induce one. I chose the former, fearing what the latter may entail. He stepped out to permit me privacy to accomplish the task. I made every effort to achieve an erection, but perhaps my nerves prevented it. The more I thought about it the less likely it seemed possible to achieve. I even imagined what Brenda looked like naked, but to no avail."
"Brenda?" I asked, "Brenda who?"
"Brenda Thomas, in our forensics class," William clarified.
"Oh, wow. So you've got a crush on Brenda, eh?" I said smiling.
"Remember your oath of secrecy?" William warned.
"I remember, I remember. I won't out you to her. I just think that's interesting, that's all. So anyway, what happened?"
"The physician returned and was upset I had not complied. He scolded that he had made time in a busy schedule for me and I should be more thoughtful of his time. I explained that I had honestly attempted but was unsuccessful. His harsh tone upset me so severely, it caused me to cry. I was just so distraught from the entire ordeal. I told him, 'I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I tried. I really tried but I just couldn't do it.' I also told him 'I hate this whole mess.' After I broke down, he softened and even apologized. He asked where my parents were and I explained that my father would not come and my mother could not."
Why didn't you just jack it?"
"Masturbate, you mean?"
"Well, while I know the general concept, the actual process escapes me, having never performed the act. I did grasp my penis and waggle it about, but it had no effect."
"Oh my god...errr, I mean oh my gosh. You seriously don't know how it's done?"
"Quite obviously not. The physician issued me a small pill, installed foot rests on the exam table and hoisted my feet into them. He left me so contorted for approximately fifteen minutes whereupon he returned and inserted a slippery finger into my rectum. He proceeded to manipulate me in a manner that quickly brought upon the desired state of erection. The erection was painful as usual. Then, he palpated my erect penis further and bent it in all directions. He tried to be as gentle with me as he could be, however, it was still most uncomfortable. He took several photos of my genitalia and then called for the nurse.
I was given the gown back and wore it to the imaging room. I was instructed to retain the erection, which occurred without any assistance from me. There, a male and female technician placed a cloth over me with just my penis and testicles exposed through a hole in the sheet. Then I was slid into a large imaging machine. The two of them discussed openly the severity of my malformation.
Ultimately, I was returned to the exam room where further probing of my penis was performed while the physician reviewed the images on the computer monitor. Finally, I was allowed to regain my dignity and get dressed. Then, he asked me to contact my parents. My father did not attend, of course, but my mother left work to attend the consultation. He displayed the photos and my mother gasped and cried for me."
"So what did he say?"
"His diagnosis maintains that the bend is not likely Peyronies Disease or PD as he called it. He suspects a congenital defect. Regardless, the solution is identical. In addition to my testicle, he plans on performing the Nesbit procedure on my penis."
"An incision will be made around the circumference of my penile shaft. The sliced skin is retracted and the tunica albuginea inspected."
"The tubular alba...what?"
"Tunica albuginea, it's a tough fibrous connective tissue that encases the penis directly beneath the skin. Bent penises like mine result from either scar tissue on one side of this tissue or a weakness of it on the other side or both. The effect is enhanced by an erection. Because mine bends when flaccid and is painful when erect, scar tissue is likely. The images taken and his physical examination confirm this. To rectify my deformity, he will excise what scar tissue he safely can and on the weak side he will create a tuck with permanent sutures. This will effectively pull the penis back into a straight position. There is some risk of loss of sensitivity in portions of the penis, as well as infection. To verify the success of the straightening, an artificial erection will be simulated, and then the skin will be pulled back up the shaft and sutured together."
"An artificial erection? What the hell is that?"
"He described the process as tying a tourniquet around the base of my penis and filling the corpus cavernosum, that's the spongy tubes the blood normally fills up to create an erection, with saline solution. If the penis is then adequately straight, the procedure will have proven successful and they will release the tourniquet," he explained.
"Eww, sounds awful. So after you heal, your dick will be fixed?"
"All indications are positive."
"Wait, did you say that he is gonna slice your dick all the way around it?"
"Yes, the entire circumference will be incised so that the skin can be peeled off the shaft and expose the tissue beneath. There is a very informative video on the internet with actual photos. Look." He opened the favorites tab on his laptop and navigated to the pictures and video.
"Ohh, gross. Dude! Does that freak you out?" I blurted out.
"Yes, certainly, but look at the before and after pictures." There was a picture of a man's erection as badly bent as William's and then an after picture where it looked perfectly straight.
"That's great news then." I said cheerfully. He, however, did not look so cheerful. "What's wrong?"
William started wringing his hands and he looked down. His lower lip and chin started quivering. Slowly he looked up and said, "While I am encouraged over the potential to repair my penis, prognosis for my testicle is less encouraging. In addition to the Nesbit procedure on my penis, he will expose and examine my injured testicle. He will attempt to repair the damage; however, he doesn't expect to be successful. He warned my mother and me that removal..." He couldn't continue. Tears were trailing down his cheeks and his voice broke. I was tearing up as well. I slid my chair over beside him and put my arm around him.
He continued, "that...well, my mother signed permission for the removal of my testicle if necessary, which he strongly suspects will come to fruition." He broke down. I gently caressed his shoulder and placed my other hand on his knee. He pulled tissues from the box on the desk and wiped at his eyes.
"Hey, let's think positive. He might save it," I consoled.
"I fear not."
"Well, there's no use getting upset over it until you really know. There's nothing you can do about it now anyway."
"Only supplicate deity."
"Pray, you mean?"
"Yes," he confirmed.
"I'll pray with you, if you want me to." He looked at me suddenly. He was searching my sincerity.
"I greatly appreciate that." He ultimately said.
"You want to now?" I asked. "You'll have to show me how. I've never done it before."
"Later," he said, "before retiring to bed. That's my usual pattern."
"For now, I fear I have a most disconcerting favor to ask of you."
"Sure, what?" I asked. Since he had calmed down, I moved back around to face him.
He hesitated. He started wringing his hands and averting his eyes. "No, I think not, after further contemplation."
"Dude, just ask. I want to help you if I can. Seriously."
"Alright, well, you may well regret those words when you hear my request. Before my operation, the physician wants a colleague to further examine me and confirm his determined course of action. This will require that I achieve an erection again. The pill has finally worn off and is not an option prior to surgery anyway. I need." He bit his lip. "I require your tutelage on the best masturbatory method to achieve an erection." His face flushed.
"You want me to teach you how to jack?" I asked, incredulous. "Serious?" I thought to myself, "Where's Bodie when I need him."
"Please, I know it is a precipitate request, given our brief but extraordinary relationship. However, I have no other resource." He was pleading with his eyes.
"What about your father?" I asked. He stiffened and his expression soured.
"That is not an option."
"Alright, but now it's time for you to swear yourself to secrecy," I said.
He smiled, "Honestly, have you the slightest doubt in that regard?"
"No, I guess not," I agreed. "Well, let me shut the door and you go lie down on my bed and pull your pants down again. I bet that instruction's starting to get old for you by now."
He agreed, grinning at me but quickly complying. I wedged his chair under my doorknob. The last thing we needed was for mom to barge in on us again.
Sam, my old dog, stirred and walked over to the bed. He stretched his neck over the edge of the bed and sniffed at William's crotch. William reached over to push him away, but before he could, Sam gently licked Williams injured testicle. William froze in place. Sam licked it twice more and returned to his spot on the floor as I approached.
I stood near the bed very nervous. I was trembling. I looked at him lying there looking vulnerable and somehow tender and innocent. I felt this must be what it's like to be a big brother. Being an only child had advantages but none I wouldn't trade for a sibling. "Okay, well take your penis in your hand. And stroke up and down like this." I demonstrated on my pointer finger the way Bodie had shown me so long ago. He held it tenuously and scarcely moved the skin. "No, here, like this."
I pulled his hand away and gripped his skinny penis in the palm of my hand in the traditional grip. "Then you squeeze slightly like this, and you slide the skin up over the head, and back down. It was odd making the bend to accomplish the task on his malformed member. If you do it long enough, the sensations cause a boner, or erection if you prefer. If you keep it up long enough, you experience an orgasm and you cum, or I guess you prefer the word, ejaculate. Now you try it."
I released his dick. I could not read his expression. Was the experience of human contact on the most private of areas as impactful on him as it was on me? It didn't appear to be anything more than clinical from what I could tell. It dawned on me that he had just spent an entire day having his dick and balls, touched, manipulated and gawked at. No wonder the experience had more impact on me than it did on him. Still, there had been an odd effect when I touched it. Something flowed between us. Our eyes had met and the awkwardness dissipated in the exchange.
"I think it is happening." He was excited. "Yes, yes, look!" he pulled his hand away and he had definitely thickened and expanded.
"Great, keep it up." A few more minutes of stroking and he was fully erect.
"I did it. I did it." He was giddy with excitement as if he'd just learned to ride a two wheeler on his own. "Thank you," he effused. It was the most sincere thank you anyone had ever given me. It touched me deeply.
"My pleasure," I said smiling warmly back at him. "Well, actually, I suppose it's really YOUR pleasure, but I was glad to help."
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