Boys are naturally competitive. When a size contest goes awry, one boy finds out that boys are also naturally curious...and are naturally subdues by...elephants.
This is a story originally by a friend of mine. On his behalf (because for some reason, he couldn't get an account here), I'm posting it here. He reckons people who read here might like it too.
While waiting for the next chapter of my friend's series "Webcam Boys" (which admittedly is taking WAY LONGER THAN EXPECTED), I decided to post another of his stories here to make up for the long wait.
What follows is a true event that happened to my friend when he was younger, and he wrote it first in his sort of journal first. When he got better at writing, he polished it and kept the story truthful to what really happened, except for the added ending which makes it look like he was sending a letter to someone.
Only my friend's name was changed for the sake of the story. The story is written with flashbacks. Italics represent a flashback while normal font represents the present time.
He highly appreciates feedback, criticism and encourages people to spot any typos or errors and if you wish to email him he's at:
I hope you enjoy his story.
Posted here for your convenience is a link to my author's page, so you can see his other works and also mine.
It was simple enough, well, not really…It was one of the most convoluted plans I’ve ever created in my entire life. The only simple things about it would be how it could all go wrong. He might not come, he might want to do something else, he might not be keen to the idea, and he might get suspicious. So many possibilities for failure! But this opportunity means so much to me that I’ve taken pains to actually devise an elaborate strategy the likes of which I’ve never conceived in my young life.
“Don’t worry, he’ll be here in a minute” Marcus said while impatiently glancing at his watch. My young friend slash protégé had arranged a meeting between me and another potential recruit…that is to say, an interested player who wanted to learn the game from me. I felt a feeling of…what was it, nostalgia? It was only a year or so ago that I taught Marcus how to play the game and now he’s the one introducing to his friends the joys of our sport. I guess thirteen-year olds are much more inclined to receive word of mouth persuasion than my own fifteen year-old peers.
Then I saw the new kid come by. Nostalgia—this time I was sure that was it—hit me like lightning. Apparently the case was the same for him since both of us shouted, “Hey, it’s you?!” at the same time. We didn’t need introductions. I knew this kid, his name was Josh. We used to be in the same school bus when we were still both in grade school. I used to play around with him and the other younger kids up until I was in sixth grade. I changed schools in middle school and I never saw him again. Well, until now. I last saw him as a bratty fourth grader. Now at 13, he easily beat my respectable 5’2” by three inches. His cheekbones were fleshed out and gave his face a mature feel that would make you think he was older. He had that air of adolescent swagger that wasn’t too overbearing, just enough for him to assert his maturity. Between the two of us, I was more the kid…and I was 15.
“Gerry ….you…look the same.”
“Cheeky bastard!”, I retorted, and the three of us laughed. Soon after, Josh, Marcus and I were chatting it up and I got to teach Josh the basics of our little hobby, until I got him good enough to play. I was still kind of reeling from the apparent randomness of our meeting; either that or it was just fatefully ironic. Either way, I was thrilled to have re-met an old friend.
It’s already one o’ clock. Is he coming or not? Everything has to go according to the plan. It has to be this day. Either it happens today or not at all.
First, we’ll play some games, the PS3 maybe? Then we’ll play cards, on the pretext of seeing how much he learned from me. Maybe eat a bit later…then, at 6, it happens…then in my room…and then the masterstroke…so to speak.
My dad’s outside talking on the phone with his contacts. Good, that means he’s accounted for later. My brother’s taking a bath for his date; just as planned, he’ll be out of the way. Mom’s at work, my sister’s at a friend’s house…all I need now is for him to come…
The doorbell! Alright. That’s him, it’s showtime.
“I do it every night! And you?” I bragged with a mischievous grin. Marcus, Josh and I were just walking home from the courts when I suddenly decided to open up my favourite topic of conversation.
“Uh…of course I do, shut up!” Marcus blushed heavily. Though he’s not new to my jibes, he always was still shy about rather…personal topics such as this.
Unknown to no one but complete strangers, I’m the stereotypical class pervert. Every conversation that includes me will inevitably lead towards discussions referencing more than your average amount of smut. In fact, all my friends and classmates knew my perversions so well, nearly every word I say, as long as it came from my mouth in my voice, sounded perverted to them. Carrot, finger, rod, fork…you name it. Heck, sometimes I just smile and they already think I’m undressing them with my eyes. But of course, I did all my jokes within the reasonable bounds of decency. I never push if they’re not open to such things…so to speak. That said, it’s no surprise that my closest friends, especially the ones that play the game with me like Marcus and, recently, Josh, have regular exposure to my adult-oriented humor.
“I don’t” Josh said suddenly. He caught my attention just as I was laughing at Marcus’ flustered and reddening face.
“Bullshit” I said. My look of incredulity said it all. Marcus stopped being a red tomato to look at Josh too.
“No, really, I don’t, and never have” Well, he couldn’t get more final than that.
“But all boys do it at this age!” I protested.
“But you’ll get blue balls!”
“I never get them.”
Josh was unbreakable. Any further attempts to crack his alibi didn’t work. I was restless afterwards. Boys can’t not go without doing it! For one thing, we have a constant need to replace our ball juice every now and then conscious or not. But Josh said no to wet dreams too. Can’t get blue balls?! Over my dead ass. I knew he was fibbing through his teeth. He’s gotta be, right? It’s just impossible.
I’m determined more than ever to get him to fess up. And it’s not just a matter of curiosity either. I’m doing it to make a point.
“Sorry, Gerry, I woke up late…” Josh said as he removed his shoes.
“Nah, no problem…so uh…what do you want to do?” Quite unlike me to be so tense…but I had a tendency of looking and sounding overeager. I didn’t want to seem like ‘you know what’ was the only thing I had in mind for him…even though it’s completely true. Just a few more hours….
He opted to play Assassin’s Creed Revelations for a while. I just watched as he amused himself by playing with Ezio in a way that would make the assassin master want to commit suicide in shame.
“Haha! See what I did? I’m so awesome!” Josh said in genuine pride.
I just patronized him encouragingly even though his achievement consisted of a kill streak any player worth his controller would be able to do. He wasn’t even playing this game for the first time; he’s been telling me the past few days how he’d play it every day at his place.
Thing was, Josh was always rather simple minded. I couldn’t quite describe it fully, it’s just that he has an ego that was inflated to the point of occasionally being obnoxious, but at the same time, it was predictable. He had a habit of glorifying himself in some way, often with fantastically fictitious feats or fundamentally simple things or what have you…and either he actually believes it or he’s really fibbing through his teeth.
Maybe it was just his budding boy superiority complex, I dunno. But for all his swagger, he was easily flattered. Well, to me he was. A one track mind…is that how they call it? You could easily get him to your side with a bit of prodding. A little praise, encouragement, agreement, sympathy…Josh was simple, predictable…exploitable.
Wait did I just say that? Note to self: stop internalizing action movie villains. ‘Cuz for one thing, it’s the heroes, not the villains, who get laid.
My assumption was that Josh, like most boys who weren’t me, that is to say, nearly everyone below my age, was still shy as hell to reveal anything even remotely related to the insides of his shorts. A reasonable fear, and one that I’ve had experience overcoming. Once I’ve chatted up a friend considerably, I could get them to talk about their innermost details, if you will. Actually, if I had a logbook of all my private conversations with friends regarding their privates, I’d have a catalogue of about 12 boys’ dick sizes, cum schedules and cum disposal methods (if applicable). The common factor was…they were all one on one conversations.
So I guess that was it…Josh was too shy only because Marcus was there with us at the time. And that’s why tonight, I’m chatting it up with Josh online. I swear, by the end of tonight, he’ll be another statistic in my hypothetical logbook.
Gm1269: sure you are. I bet you can’t even keep up with my smut
Joshieboy98: is that a dare? Bring it bitch
Gm1269: ok toughguy, let’s play 20 questions. No skipping or you’re a wuss. First question, you ever read a porn mag?
Joshieboy98: course I have. My older bro keeps a stack of playboys handy
Well, that was a shocker. Josh so easily admitted to actually doing anything related to sex just as flatly as he said he didn’t during our conversation the other day. My assumption was correct then. He’s braver alone. Time to satisfy my curiosities. And to make my point. I totally didn’t mean anything weird by that.
Gm1269: well, you sure changed your tune fast. So, what, you jerk off to them?
Joshieboy98: course I do
Gm1269: well, ok then how long’s yours when hard?
This is it, the big punchline. If he goes for this, it’s smooth sailing all the way. Curiously, talking about his endowments somehow made me aware of…stirrings…in my loins….natural given the direction of our talk…but still.
Joshieboy98: four to five inches give or take.
Gm1269: oh, okay, Mine’s about the same size. Well, actually bigger
Joshieboy98: Im not sure though
Gm1269: whaddaya mean?
Joshieboy98: that was just a rough estimate.
Gm1269: are you saying you’re bigger than me?!
Joshieboy98: haha, maybe I am!
Gm1269: cheeky bastard! Ok, let’s settle this
Gm1269: let’s compare with each other the next time you come over. That way, we’ll be definitely sure
Joshieboy98: ohhh…yeah, good idea.
Admittedly, the moment he mentioned his size, I was struck with an intense curiosity to see his dick in person. I could try to justify that I’m only doing it to prove I’m bigger and assert my superiority. But of course that’s a load of bull. Puberty got held up in traffic and I’m not winning any size contests anytime soon. Thing is, I just wanted to see his, that’s all. Plain curiosity. That’s normal for a growing boy, right?
Also, it didn’t escape my notice how easily I got him to say yes. ‘Show and tell’ isn’t exactly in line with the conservative culture of our community. Interesting….if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was…willing.
I chose today of all other days for our little play date for one reason: today, everyone in the house has some engagement that preoccupies them enough so much that Josh and I wouldn’t attract any notice. What’s more today was the day dad was going to hold a meeting with co-workers in the living room. The living room was where we were playing at the time.
At 6 PM, it happened. Dad’s expected guests rang the doorbell and they started filing into the living room, occupying every seat available. Dad took me aside and suggested Josh and I retreat to my room for the time being. Of course I agreed. It was all according to plan.
When a boy’s room only has space for hardly four people to stand at the same time, and has stacks of books, papers and school related clutter all around, without anything resembling a TV or game system, the number of fun activities you could come up with becomes limited. For a little while, we sat on the floor and played some cards. It got old quickly because I was understandably better than him; he was still learning after all, and I suggested we use my computer.
Now, the only gadget I have in my room was my laptop. When my dad bought it, he made sure the specs were good…but at the same time he made sure the specs were terrible for installed games, effectively getting me a non-gaming laptop…a barren, infertile device that does poorly to entertain me, so to speak. Something to do with him wanting me to focus on my studies or some such nonsense.
When a computer is only good for word documents and internet, what’s the only fun thing an adolescent boy could do with it…?
Ever heard of that Avenue Q song, “the internet is for porn”?
All according to plan.
“Hey Josh, check out the porn I have” I said with an especially evil grin…. Which was unceremoniously wiped off my face when he replied…
Seriously, this boy’s willingness made me doubt his true intentions. As they say, when a plan’s going too smoothly…something’s terribly wrong.
With great anticipation, I started opening the carefully hidden and misleadingly placed folders of my personal porn stash. Through my own prodigious research skills, I’ve acquired a rather… unusual collection of materials, coming from various cultures, ages, genders and…fetishes. One could even say I treated porn with the reverence archaeologists have for temple ruins or some such, if said archaeologists actually fapped to their finds.
Anyway, I didn’t know what inspired me to do it, but I decided to expose him to my considerable amount of gay porn. Admittedly, I amassed this stash thanks in no small part to my above average interest in boys and their…personal development, so to speak. Showing him these might get him to open up about what I have planned later. That and I knew I’d get a kick out of seeing his freaked-out expression.
So I opened the vids and pics, and told him to come over and see.
“Whoa, what the heck?!” Curiously, he only reacted five seconds after he was already watching. He backed off quickly as if I put burning coal on his skin, except, like I said, the burning coal’s been there for five seconds already.
I laughed and told him to calm down and I tried to get him some straight material. Ok, so maybe my porn stash was 80 percent gay and 20 percent others. Hey, I said I was curious, alright? Anyway, the stuff I showed him were admittedly lacking in quality compared to the gay stuff and seemed to actually bore him enough that he suddenly motioned for me to get off the chair and started to type on the laptop.
“Man, the stuff you have is lame, I’ll show you REAL porn” he said with relish.
I didn’t in any of my mental simulations ever conceive an eventuality like this happening. As they say, when a plan goes too well, you’re gonna get screwed….which contextually speaking, wouldn’t be out of place in the current situation.
He started googling sites I never even thought of going to, or sites that I knew about but derided. The charm of big, lusty, busty women gets old, fast, for me at least. Suddenly, he opens this site about a girl that apparently makes a living off of reporting the weather, while getting bukkake’d every few seconds. Thus, I met Maria Ozawa.
Admittedly, Maria Ozawa was pretty, and I was fairly intrigued how she could keep playing her supposed role while having random men spooge on her face. Meh, sure, that was interesting, but my attention was more fixed on Josh. He was…fidgeting. This only meant one thing.
The masterstroke I mentioned? It’s time to bring it out…so to speak.
“Josh, this is way hot dude…” I said with the appropriate facial cues and voice modulation. Did I mention that I’m thinking of performing in our theatre club?
“Yeah, see, I told you Gerry, this stuff is way better than the ones you got. Haha!”
“Damn right. Y’know, Josh, this is so hot…”
“I need to…” and without much further ado, I slipped my hand into my shorts and began to move my hand in a way that any culture in the world would recognize as the act of fondling one’s self. But of course, I was less doing this to pleasure myself and more of provoking Josh to copy my actions.
“Hey, remember we have to compare sizes. This is getting me hard already. We can only compare when we’re hard y’know…”
“Oh, uhm, okay I guess…”
Sure enough, Josh looked at me…and the apparently gyrating fist in my shorts and slipped his own hand in his pants and started rubbing himself. All according to plan. But then…
It’s already been ten whole minutes and we were just watching the vid without saying anything. I was already definitely hard, but more because of the fact that I was manhandling my dick more than the fact that I was watching Maria Ozawa. But Josh was…he seemed like he was still trying hard to uh….get hard.
“Hey Josh, I’m hard now, let’s compare!”
“Uhm, not yet…I can’t get hard…
“I dunno, It’s like I’m not horny enough…”
“…” I was speechless. Again, I didn’t count on this. My assumption was that all boys, in the face of porn and even the slightest stimulation, will get hard. My internal alarm bells were signalling a red alert. The plan could fall apart any minute.
“Josh, try doing it on my bed. It always feels better when I do it there” I suggested.
“Okay”, he lied down and started stroking himself in his shorts while I watched. I could tell he was trying real hard, so to speak. But after a while he said it was no good. My brain went into overdrive. I needed to salvage the situation and fast. At this point, I was in a panic; whatever I did next wouldn’t be part of the plan and I wouldn’t have thought about it carefully enough. Oh, and never mind the fact that he was fondling himself in the very same bed where I sleep.
And it was in this state of mind that I further suggested…”Hey Josh, let me try something…”
“Wha…?!” I put my hands inside his shorts and felt him up through his briefs. I figured that this would finally get him to bone up; my research into erotic literature told me as much. But still….this was never a part of the plan. The plan was that I was just gonna look at Josh’s dick through our size contest, that’s all. I never dreamed that I’d actually be…touching—manhandling—his dick. Speaking of dick…
“Dude, what the…is this your dick?!”
“Dude!” My bewilderment was justified. I was feeling his dick through his briefs and I felt…A LOT. I was mapping out his whole groin with my hands just to make sure it was his dick I was actually feeling, and not say, extra groin fat folds or whatever. Well, I’m now definitely sure that was his dick….and it was HUGE. I felt hugely overwhelmed by its sheer girth. And I was just feeling it through his briefs still!
And somehow through all my amazement, it somehow sort of escaped my mind how easily he let me into his pants.
“Dude…this is…this is huge!”
“Yeah, I’m kinda big…”
“Screw ‘kinda’” I said.
“Ok, stop, I’ll try it again” I took my hand from his pants as he got up from my bed and started to vigorously fondle himself. He seemed really into it too, his eyes were closed and he threw his head back…finally…
“Ok! I think this is it, I’m getting hard!”
“Great, lemme see!” Finally, we have results!
Crap. We’re at the most critical part of the operation and then this! He’s hesitating! Of all the times in the world! Just one little slip, a mismanaged reply, a misinterpretation of intention…and everything shatters! But maybe…! There’s one last hope. Time to bring out the big guns. Well…in my case, maybe not so much. But that’s not the point!
The situation has worsened so much that I now need to use my limit break. With a final sigh of anticipation, I hooked my thumbs on the top of my shorts and undies and removed both of them in one swift, fluid motion.
For a few long, agonizing seconds, the world seemed to fall silent as a four-inch penis tasted the sweet air of freedom in front of a living witness for the first time in many years. Perhaps the most striking feature of this penis was that it was impossibly hard and throbbing, furthermore, it was mine.
Josh took a long, hard look at me. A specific part of me that is. Staring right back at him was my pride and joy, four inches with a cut head, its angry red helmet ready for conquest.
Seeing my unabashed display, and my expectant look, Josh breathed an audible sigh of resignation and dropped his pants.
I am not, as a rule, given to either extreme profanity or vulgarity. But when faced with a giant behemoth with an angry crimson head, with pulsating veins and a girth that looked like it couldn’t fit in my fist, I might be forgiven for indulging in both.
Josh let me have a good look. He said online that his was four to five inches long. Well, screw that. The whole length of his enormous shaft was easily six…maybe even seven inches! And boy was it big! It was so thick around that I couldn’t even think of a coin to compare it with. Actually it wasn’t even a cylinder. It was freakin’ oblong! It was so huge; his glans looked comically small and out of place on top of that intimidating man-cannon of his. I never once looked at his face while I inspected his armaments. But I could tell somehow, he was smirking.
“Dude, forget the contest. You win hands down…” I replied weakly while still looking at his monster.
“Looks like it wasn’t even a contest…hehe” I was too shocked to even think of a retort.
“You said…you said you were just four or five…”
“Well, I told you I wasn’t sure”
“You…suck at math…” This was the only thing I could say as my hand, as though compelled by some unseen force, went slowly, let me reiterate “slowly”, towards his gigantic piston and well, grasped it. If anything, at the very least I proved my earlier assumption that I couldn’t wrap a fist around it. Again, at the time I totally didn’t care that Josh seemed to actually want what I was doing, seeing as he had no objections to my ministrations.
Oh, but don’t judge me! I swear, I was being controlled or something. Something even greater than me, something that didn’t give a rat’s ass about any sort of plans mortals like me could make…that thing, whatever the hell it is, compelled me to just, touch it! My hand was on auto-pilot! I was hardly thinking at the time. All I remember in my head was how impossibly big it was and…elephants….cuz’ you know, it looked like a huge elephant’s trunk, and elephants are huge…it makes sense right?
Without any prompting from the apparently amused Josh, I started to slowly jack his jumbo sausage. It felt so strange in my hands. I could feel every ridge, every pulsing vein, even the rushing blood. It was rough to touch, or maybe, “defined” was the better word. It was stiff as much as a muscle could ever go, but still retained that sense of softness flesh has. I just kept at it, stroking and stroking. I didn’t even give a thought to myself, my dick had long since deflated out of sheer intimidation and awe.
To the common viewer, one would see two boys naked from the waist down, the shorter of the pair kneeling down in front of the other who was seated at the bed. The shorter boy was steadily masturbating the taller boy’s engorged gigantic phallus with a strange, fixated look in his eyes. But of course, the deeper implications wouldn’t be apparent. I was overcome with a sense of…submission? I stared at the thick pole in front of me with such…intensity…you could even say it was reverence. My hands, ever so carefully and earnestly pleasuring it, seemed as though it was fulfilling a sacred duty. Yeah, I pretty much lost it. When I saw Josh’s colossal man-meat, I think my brain blew a fuse.
“I think I’m nearly there…!” I was vaguely aware that Josh would cum soon. I just kept stroking. His body was slightly rocking on my bed as I continued at my pace. After a while, his breathing tensed up and I was finally snapped out of my reverie. I stopped stroking him and just gripped his dick as tight as I could. This seemed to drive him to the edge.
“That’s it! I’m gonna…!” Time seemed to stand still at that moment. I saw his piss slit dilate in anticipation of the outburst, his muscles all tightened up, his dick included. I gripped his shaft more and angled it so I was staring his piss slit eye to eye…so to speak. You may think of me as crazy, but for one fleeting second, one insane second, I imagined what it would have felt like to have his mega dick in my mouth. I never imagined giving blowjobs to anyone I knew, never mind this was only the first time I’ve ever seen someone else’s dick in person, let alone pleasure it to climax.
But that moment came and went the same time Josh did. His body was convulsing rather vigorously, but his ejaculation was more controlled, one would’ve expected a weapon of that magnitude to fire ammunition the way Nerf water guns try to shoot your eye out. However, Josh merely dribbled, albeit a whole lot, into my hand and it spilled messily on the floor.
I finally, fully, snapped out of my stupor and realized that I just jacked off my younger friend. I can’t even begin to describe the maelstrom of emotions and thoughts that ran inside my head. For Josh’s part though, he seemed to have enjoyed his catharsis.
“Sorry about the mess…”
“No, no, it’s okay….” I said absently as I picked a random shirt from my hamper and wiped his juices off of me and my floor. I made a mental note to remove that shirt from my list of wearable clothes.
We looked at each other and…well, well nothing. I couldn’t think or say anything. For his part though, he had a shit-eating grin that I think was supposed to mean there was a sort of nonverbal thing that passed between us, I dunno.
After a long while of cleaning up, Josh used my computer a bit more before saying he had to go.
“So, Gerry, let’s play again next week, right? I’m free on Thursday. Maybe Invite Marcus too…” He said this so nonchalantly as if nothing happened. I was surprised but…I realized that Josh might be the kind of person that doesn’t dwell too much on things, or the type that doesn’t make a fuss about much of anything.
“Sure thing. Just careful with that elephant of yours!” I even had the heart to joke with him now.
“What, screw you and your acorn! Haha!”
So that’s what happened between Josh and I that fateful November 21st. Strangely, or not, Josh and I continued being friends as normal as if nothing happened…except we didn’t pretend it never happened.
We often reference it and make fun of each other for it. “Elephant” had been my new coined term of
affectionate insult for him while he returned the gesture by calling me “acorn”, much to the chagrin of our other friends who didn’t know what the crap we were on about. Though, being me, people guessed it had something to do with sex; it’s just that they can’t fathom how an elephant could ever be involved.
We never told anyone, but I feel like you should know, Kurt, since you’re our mutual friend, and I trust you a lot. Josh is one of my stranger friends, but I don’t resent anything since it was because of him that you and I met again in the first place. This story might sound weird…and…sensitive, but I know you’re open minded anyway! Don’t think any lesser of me, or Josh. That’s why I’m telling you this in the first place. I need you to be my impartial observer and my trusted confidant.
All this is a hundred percent true and I swear by Maria Ozawa as my witness.
As always, you have my thanks. I’m sorry if I caused you any unwanted homo-erotic dreams.
P.S. sometimes at night, I still wonder about Josh. About his willingness and complacency and stuff. Sometimes I wonder if he wanted it or…I dunno. All I’m saying is, sometimes, I feel like the plan… wasn’t actually my own.