When I Was … Thirteen
by David Heulfryn
I was just about to turn fourteen, Jack had turned fourteen a couple of months ago, and our sleepover routine hadn’t changed much. We still ate loads of junk food and drank vast amounts of pop, but instead of playing board games, we would play computer games. My parents had bought me a ZX81 for my thirteenth birthday, and Jack’s parents always went one better and bought him the Commodore 64. He always had the better games, so I would love to spend hours round his place playing ‘Pitstop’, a racing game which Jack hated playing as I would always beat him. Jack preferred ‘Winter Games’ as he liked the ski and bobsleigh.
As was our routine, that night when we went to bed, we stayed up for a while talking. I was still in a sleeping bag on the same khaki camp bed, it was looking a bit old and frayed by now, and I doubted it had much life left in it. I had also given up on my superhero pyjamas and settled for some ordinary cotton pyjamas. As I was getting older and more conscious of my body, I would never wear my pyjama top and enjoyed showing off, what was in hindsight, my skinny chest and few tufts of hair that had begun to grow in my armpits. Jack was still very modest and always wore a pyjama jacket, but it was not buttoned to the top like when he was younger, he kept the top two buttons undone.
As we talked, I looked at his face and the light bum fluff on his cheek. I knew he’d started shaving as there was a disposable razor in the bathroom next to his dad’s metal razor and small tin of new blades. I hated the idea of using that sort razor, it was so sharp, and the thought of that blade touching my face scared me as I thought it would scar me.
When we started secondary school, we were in pretty much the same classes. The exception was PE, when I had PE, he would have woodwork and vice versa. This meant that I never saw him in the showers and I wondered how he coped considering he was always so modest during our sleepovers. As I hadn’t heard anything from the other guys about his behaviour, I guessed he just got it done as quickly and without ceremony just like all the other modest guys.
In our first year at school, we had the customary weeks’ worth of sex education lessons. It was just the usual lessons about, puberty, the mechanics of sex and childbirth. I remember the girls were taken to a different classroom for one lesson to be told all about their monthly cycle.
My parents had already sat me down and talked about all of this, so I pretty much knew everything. Jack, on the other hand, seemed to be taking everything in. If his parents had spoken to him about sex, then I doubt it was a long conversation.
Homosexuality was never mentioned, neither by the school nor my parents, so I was a little confused when I started to feel an attraction to other boys. Because it was not talked about, I thought my feelings were not normal. I should be attracted to girls and get erections over girls. So why did all that happen when I saw a cute boy? I didn’t feel I could talk to anyone about it, so I never voiced my feelings. I kept my attractions to myself.
Strangely though, I was never attracted to Jack. He had been my best friend since whenever I can remember, we were close and dare I say love each other, but as brothers and best friends.
Although I didn’t fancy Jack, I was curious about how he was developing, but he never gave anything away, his modesty prevented it. So I had to be content with the little clues I could see, the bum fluff on his cheeks, the croaky voice as it broke and the darkening hairs on his top lip which he shaved off once a week.
“Ya know Phil’s got an Atari now?” Jack asked as I wondered if he’d bother shaving his top lip in the morning.
“He’s been bragging about it all over school. I’ve wanted one for months now, but my parents say they can’t afford one. Say I should be happy with my ZX81.”
“I figure that if I keep badgering mine, they’ll just give in and get me one.”
“That’s because you’re an only child, you get whatever you want. I have to share everything and then only get cheap stuff.”
“Hey, Robbie, the ZX81 ain’t that bad, and you’re way better at programming than me.”
“Yeah, well. Still want an Atari though.”
After exhaustively telling each other how much we wanted the Atari and how much better the games were, we drifted off to sleep.
I was getting a bit big for the camp bed, and my feet dangled over the edge and the pillow I used kept falling off. I had trouble retrieving it and getting comfortable as I was zipped up tight in the sleeping bag, which was also getting too small. My feet went to the end, and if I stretched my legs out, the sleeping bag would unzip, and the top would end up around my chest.
Jack was fast asleep when his mother came in to check on us. I was asleep also, but the creaking of the door handle and the hinges woke me as she poked her head in. I don’t know if she knew I was awake, but as everything was quiet and we were both in bed, she closed the door and went to bed herself.
I sighed and willed myself back to sleep.
I had no idea what time it was when Jack woke me. He’d kicked my camp bed as he got up and went over to his wardrobe. He’d turned on the light so the room was bright and my eyes were blinded. I struggled to free my arms to cover my eyes and rub them to soothe the stinging.
Jack was going through his clothes, the metal hangers scraping against the metal rail as he pulled them aside. The sound made me wince, and I just wanted to get up and shake him until he woke up, but I’d been warned against doing that. I was told to just let him finish whatever he was doing and then he’d go back to bed.
He picked out a pair of jeans and took them off the hanger. I watched him as he unbuttoned his pyjama jacket and dropped it on the floor. He then slipped off his pyjama trousers and kicked them aside.
My dick got hard as I saw his round hairless arse, I was so tempted to touch myself but resisted. He turned around, and I got my first look at his cock. It was beautiful. Crowned by a tidy patch of almost black pubic hair, his smooth dick hung limp between his legs, resting on his balls.
Jack bent over and pulled on his jeans, he huffed, and I heard him mumble the word ‘underwear’ before pulling them down again. He went to his chest of drawers and started rummaging through the top drawer. Picking up each pair of neatly folded briefs, he looked at them and tossed them aside, claiming they were not his.
Not thinking it possible, my dick swelled even more, my red hot knob feeling like it would explode like a popcorn kernel in a microwave. I couldn’t resist any longer, and my right hand went down to just squeeze my dick.
“Oh shit!” I whispered to myself as my mind tried to stop and force back my orgasm. But that one slight touch was enough, and my knob spewed out cum and soaked into my pyjama trousers, it dribbled down my shaft, into my pubes and seeped between my legs. If I’d been alone, it could have been the best orgasm I’d ever had.
Having gone through the entire contents of his top drawer, most of which now lay at his feet, Jack just turned around and walked back to his bed. I watched as his cock swung in front of me, tempting my now limp cock back to life. As he climbed over by the camp bed, I got my closest ever look at his cock, and I was so tempted to reach out and feel him. But it was only a fleeting glimpse as he quickly climbed back into his bed and pulled his duvet over him.
I just lay back, closed my eyes and sighed. Squeezing my own dick, it felt damp and sticky. I wanted to go back to sleep, but Jack had left the light on.
Quietly, I unzipped my sleeping bag and heaved myself from the low bed to stand up. Glancing at my crotch, I saw a huge wet patch turning my light blue pyjama trousers translucent. I could see the fabric clinging to my dick, so I plunged my hand down and peeled the material from the smooth skin of my dick, trying to get some air down there to hasten the drying, but I knew as soon as I let go of the elastic waistband my dick would again be covered as if in cling film.
With the room back in darkness, I had difficulty in zipping up my sleeping bag, after a few minutes of failed attempts I gave up and hoped I wouldn’t get too cold in the night.
The only image in my mind that night was Jacks crotch. I’d finally seen him naked, and my curiosity was sated, for the time being at least.
I was woken up by Jack, talking to himself. “Fucking hell, what the hell did I do last night?” He looked under his duvet and then said, “Oh, shit!”
“Hey, what’s up?” I rubbed my eyes and looked over at Jack.
“Did I wake you in the night?” He asked.
“No.” I lied. “I slept right through, surprising with how uncomfortable this camp bed is. Why what…” I left my question unasked as I looked around his room to see his wardrobe door open and clothes were strewn across the floor. By the wardrobe, his pyjamas lay crumpled. “You certainly were busy last night.”
“Are you getting up?” Jack asked.
“Yeah, give us a minute to wake up properly, if you want to get up, I’m not stopping you.”
It was then that I remembered he was naked under his duvet. I felt the front of my pyjamas trousers and felt the stiff fabric were my cum had dried. I knew it would show as soon as I stood up.
I scanned the room, looking for my clothes, and saw my jeans screwed up in the corner.
“I’m going to have a wash, that should wake me up,” I told Jack and picked up my jeans and, holding them in front of my crotch, went to the bathroom.
I threw the jeans on the bathroom floor and pulled down my pyjamas.
Over at the sink, I ran the hot water tap and soaped up my hands with a good lather. I rubbed it into my crotch, covering my shaft, balls and making sure I washed all my little creases like I was told to do when I was a young boy.
Instinctively I grabbed the hand towel and rubbed my crotch, as with any blue-blooded thirteen-year-old boy, by cock started to respond, but I chose to ignore it as I didn’t want to create another mess to clear up.
Replacing the hand towel, I then washed my face to clear away the sleep. It wasn’t until I was drying myself that I realised I was using the same towel that I… Oops. Well, Jack and his parents will never know.
I cursed myself for not bringing my bag with me. It had my clean underwear in, and I never picked up my old ones. Reluctantly, I pulled on my jeans, the feel of the coarse fabric scratching and irritating my crotch.
When I went back into Jack’s room, I found him fully dressed and tidying up the mess he had made in the night.
I never got the opportunity that day to put on my underwear, and it was excruciating. Every time my cock would grow, my knob would peak out of my foreskin and rub against my jeans, the pain soon sent my cock back down, and my knob returned safely under the foreskin. But the worst time was when my exposed knob scraped against the teeth of my zip. I was sure I’d done some damage but wasn’t in a position to look. That night as I went to bed, my dick got a thorough inspection, and I tried to soothe the sore marks on my knob.
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