(translated as the act of getting caught with your pants down!)
It was half way through a typical day at school, late on in the year they were all in the eighth grade. During lunch recess on that day, as they waited for that day's Advisory, many of Luke’s class were crowded around Chris Anderson’s desk. On it, a magazine lay open.
Scott Landon pushed his way to the front, snatched it from the desk, and made out he was all over it. “OH FUCK, she can do that to me anytime!”
“So, we know what Scott’s gonna be doing tonight!” Cody Mitchell sniggered and made a ring shape with his thumb and finger, jerking it up and down. Everyone laughed, even Luke, though, as a somewhat naive thirteen year old, he hadn't the slightest clue what Cody was on about.
“Fuck off!” Scott colored and showed Cody where to stick it. "Does your mom know you're such a wanker?"
Luke looked more closely. The pictures were quite an eyeful; a porn mag that Anderson had smuggled into school from God knows where, they had it open at a page where a guy and a girl were squashed into the back of some car. Both were naked and she was straddling him and had hold of his thick, meaty boner.
Standing near enough so that he could see and hear, yet far enough away that nobody would ask his opinion, Luke was astounded. The couple were splashed across a double spread and the series of pictures that documented their encounter showed that, whatever she was doing, he really seemed to be enjoying it!
The finale in the gallery was a close up. She had her hand wrapped tightly around him, just under his enormous, skinned, bell-shaped end. Her long red fingernails contrasted both the deep purple flesh and the white stuff that she seemed to be squeezing from the tip. The camera caught a string of it, as it joined a puddle of the stuff on his stomach.
It didn’t look like pee—unless the guy had some disease, that was—but what it might be Luke unfortunately had no idea.
What bugged him was that while he had no clue what it was, picking up on the colorful descriptions being tossed around by Chris, Cody and the others, it seemed almost all the rest of them did! An uncomfortable lump formed in his trousers and, throughout the rest of the afternoon, the lasting vision of that rampantly proud wanger kept it there.
Now, he wasn’t a complete pinhead. He knew exactly what boners were and, as a 'not yet blooming, just turned thirteen-year-old', he got stiffies all the time. However, he guessed that the white stuff was going to be yet another thing that he'd grown up not knowing about. Maybe it was something that only cut guys did?
Later that evening, sitting alone on the toilet, he’d carefully experimented.
He was in for one hell of a BIG surprise as he copied what it looked like the girl had been doing, rubbing the loose skin up and down his shaft.
Before long, his tentative approach became bolder as he discovered some quite unexpected but incredibly delicious sensations. He was unprepared for what he was feeling and what was happening. It caught him completely off guard. Unnerved, he’d stopped, zipped back up and scurried downstairs, convinced his mum would ask why he looked so guilty!
Ten minutes later he was back. Locking the door to the bathroom and not holding back this time, he’d squeaked as quietly as he could when he’d finally reached his very first climax and spunked out his own white stuff.
Along with that sticky goo, the deliciously pleasurable world of masturbation erupted into his previously naive experience. He never let on that he'd only just discovered it, but he’d been hooked onto his dick ever since, and now, like most teens, he jerked and jizzed whenever he needed.
Like most days!
* * *
Discovering that dicks were unbelievably useful for something other than for taking a pee, wasn’t by any means the first thing that had taken him by surprise in the USA.
There was a lot to learn!
It wasn’t just about driving on the wrong side of the road or navigating supermarkets the size of football pitches. There was new stuff almost all the time after they touched down at Hartsfield airport. Even school was a minefield of the unexpected—like his brand new football kit and the weird undies they all had to wear with a protective cup inside them to stop his winky from getting walloped! Jocks, they called them. And pants weren't undies anymore either. Pants were trousers!
Go figure!
It was all a lot to get his head around, but what he'd been even less prepared for was the world of the circumcised willy! In this respect, he discovered he was unlike everyone else of his age that he encountered.
Like everyone! In fact, until then, he had never even heard of the term ‘circumcised’, yet three days at the Academy was all that it had taken to totally upend his world.
Carting his brand new kit and following the rest of the kids having gym that period, he made it to the lockers to change for sport and his first exposure to American football. He'd felt awkward as he changed, and had fumbled around getting the newly acquired cup into place, eyes darting to his classmates for clues.
Despite that, he'd actually enjoyed his first outing onto the field, and had had a good time, though he had no idea what he was doing other than running into people and knocking them over!
Hell – there were a bunch of jerks in his old school that just LOVED doing that!
Full of excitable energy, they’d stripped off afterwards and, feeling one of the crowd, he'd followed them into the large but rather cramped shower block. It was then, through the shampoo, steam and lively banter of the dozens that surrounded him, that he noticed his very first clipped cock.
Taken aback, he immediately thought that the kid was somehow malformed! The guy's willy was short and rather fat, and where the tip was meant to be, the poor kid had a distinct mass; a weird lump of some kind.
Luke’s first thought was that perhaps it was a growth of some kind, like a tumor. Or then again, maybe the kid had been born that way? He'd cringed, thinking that it had to be impossible to pee through, and looked away quickly, embarrassed and knowing that the kid must feel bad enough without having people stare at him!
But, as the mass of both black and white eleven-year-old skin bumped and jostled for space under the showerheads, his eyes strayed further and boggled as it became apparent that they’d all been born that way!
Bloody hell! What the hell was wrong with them all?
Anyway (and forgive the pun) cutting a long story short, whatever it was about—and it took some time to finally figure it all out— it seemed that everyone, at least in his year it seemed, had, as they often described it, been skinned.
They seemed to have all kinds of names for it, like cut, clipped, skinned or unhooded, though the official term he eventually found out, was 'circumcised'. Further, while they all seemed to know a heck of a lot about it; when it had been done to them, why, and even how, whereas he was completely clueless!
Once the first weeks of courteous respect had passed and his school friends got to know him a bit more, the gloves slipped off a bit and he found himself being ribbed for the rather long, dangly piece of skin that hung off him.
Usually it wasn't mean, just a bit of dissing by guys who just could not believe he actually had a foreskin. Most admitted they had never even seen such a thing before and were totally bemused by the idea that nobody – like NOBODY – had been circumcised in his last school and that everyone looked like...well, like him actually.
Rather than be pissed, he was just amused by them. With half their willys cut off when they were babies, they had no idea how totally ridiculous their stubby little wieners, with neat little acorns perched on the top, actually looked! But there was no telling them—they were convinced that it was him that was somehow missing out.
‘Why not?’ was the question they often asked when he said he wasn’t skinned. ‘Don’t you have insurance?’
Insurance? What the hell had THAT got to do with it?
They just couldn't get that it was England was normal, and a place where kids had normal dicks. Dicks that ended with the skin bunched tightly together at the end where you pee’d from. Yet, the way they discussed him, he got the impression that they felt he was the one that had the problem and that he should probably get it fixed because, here, showing that ‘head’ as they called it, was the norm. Being unhooded (as they called it) was the only way of getting to it, and it was him that was the odd one out! End of!
It opened up lots to think about though, up until then, he’d never done much of that when it came to his dick. And when it came to school, before the move he'd happily undressed and showered with his classmates, without ever giving any of it a second thought. It wasn’t just circumcision, either. In fact nothing much at all to do with sex had entered his experience, and he certainly never talked about stuff like that at home with his parents.
Now he realized he never even knew what a foreskin was, let alone been friends with kids who apparently didn't have one! And, for reasons he was yet to discover, he still didn't know that the peculiar mushroom shape he was noticing also existed inside all the skin that hung off his own two inches.
So he happily ignored them, and while 'anteater’ was hardly his favorite term, a redeeming feature seemed to be that he was quite a bit longer than any of them. Life had gone on, and he and they with it as they'd all got used to each other.
It was the same when it came to school work.
In many subjects, like science and math, he was on a par with (or even slightly advanced beyond) the standard being taught. However, there were other areas in which he was a long way behind. History, for example, was mostly of the American type, and Geography mostly related to the States too. In those, he had a lot of catching up to do, but he did so, and gradually began to fit into the country and culture.
Another thing he got into, quite soon after they arrived was tennis.
The school was keen to convince parents that boys should be guided into taking up at least one extracurricular activity, whether that be sport focused or something else like music, or the drama society or the chess club. There were plenty of options.
He’d played a bit of tennis at his last school and, after having grown up not too many miles from Wimbledon and having watched a few Pete Sampras finals on the telly, he felt he had enough of a genetic connection to show them a thing or too.
Perhaps he wasn’t as good as he thought, but he practiced hard, and by the seventh grade he even made the team, earning himself the prize of a top-of-the-line racquet from a proud mum and dad!
Tennis had other benefits, too.
It wasn't uncommon for the full middle and high school squads to travel to regional tournaments, competing against other schools in the state. Those were great times, getting out and about, though what was more unusual for someone born on a small island was that it took so freaking long to get there!
On one occasion, during the spring semester of the eighth grade, they’d been away four days and three nights.
Leaving straight after school one Thursday afternoon, two full coaches carried them and all their equipment, plus teachers, coaches and various hangers-on. They’d driven for three or four hours before stopping over at a pre-booked motel. The next day, they’d spent half of it (school day as it was), visiting some sites of dubious historical interest, being made to write pages of copious notes on what they saw.
Their ‘school day’ complete, they got back on the bus, so as to arrive at their destination in the late afternoon. After being welcomed and fed, they’d been bedded down for the night close by at yet another motel that had been booked out by the school.
The matches had been good and, as was traditional, the host school (a private academy, similar to their own) had arranged a celebration on the Saturday evening. A special dinner, which was nice, was followed by a disco party, which was even better!
The culminating matches in the knockout competition for every age group were played on the Sunday morning, though neither he nor Ryan made it very far, so they’d cheered from the sidelines. After an early and simple lunch, it was back on the coach for the long, tedious drive home with few breaks. He’d slept for most of it because they’d stayed up late the night before, and he was totally knackered.
It had been a great trip, but it had still been three nights of sharing accommodations with four to a room and him having to share a double bed!
At the same time, having been happily and regularly spunking for nearly a year, enforced abstinence was a pain in the ass! Each day, he’d awoken uncomfortably stiff but could do nothing about it, other than sneak into the bathroom to shower and dress, hoping his morning wood wouldn’t be spotted. Even in the motel bathrooms, he was completely paranoid that he might be heard, and dared not deal with it.
They'd eventually made it back to Atlanta and he was relieved to be home for dinner. It was later that evening that Simon had walked in on him, right when he was stroking himself to a long awaited, and desperately needed, climax.
* * *
Extract from Luke's Diary:
Getting caught your with trousers down can put a real kink in your day. Even if it’s by your little brother.
Actually, ESPECIALLY if it’s by your little brother!
Si had caught on quite quickly...not hard when he bloody well walked in on me when I was right in the middle of squirting!
After a few months of giving it plenty of ‘practice’, I’d got jerking of downf to a fine art. On that fateful day—the day when Simon had walked in on me—I was just in the process of bringing to an end four days of holding it in.
Crap! Embarrassing or what!
* * *
After returning from the trip, his dad had picked up both him and Ryan in the school parking lot. They, along with dozens of others, had disembarked and then crowded around getting their luggage from the belly of the bus. Tired but happy, they’d driven home in silence dropping, Ryan off on the way.
Once home, he’d eaten dinner, and had revived enough to become impatient as he’d tried to answer all their many questions, and there were plenty as they wanted to know how the trip had gone.
Eventually, feigning tiredness, he'd gone upstairs to unpack and probably have a bath. Knowing everyone was downstairs watching TV, he'd still locked the bedroom door and unpacked his bag before stretching out on his bed. He could have done it in the shower, but the bed was way more comfortable, and he took a few moments to shed some extra clothing. When he jerked, he preferred to take everything off—at least from the waist down. Underwear just got in the way.
Comfortably and ready to rumble, it didn’t take long as, just over a minute later, it was with some relief that that familiar, intense moment arrived. As he rode it through, spurting and grunting, something rather less welcome arrived, as Simon walked silently in, appearing through his side of the interconnecting doors—the one that led through to the bathroom they both shared.
The one he’d forgotten to lock!
He heard a sound, and out of the corner of his eye, Luke suddenly realized he wasn’t alone as he saw the surprised bemusement in Simon’s face as he caught Luke energetically making out with his stiff pole.
"Fucking hell!" Squealing frantically, he dived off the bed to scoop up his clothes from where he had dumped them. Covering his dick ineffectually with his hands, he burned scarlet. "GET OUT – I’M BLOODY GETTING CHANGED!"
But Simon wasn't having any of it. "That's not getting changed. You were playing with your willy!” He pointed to the freshly sprayed jizz that Luke was trying to wipe off with his boxers. “And what's that stuff?"
The cat was truly out of the bag, and Luke was at a complete loss to do anything other than to continue swearing wildly at his brother, who left in a bit of a huff!
Once he was dressed, Luke sat on the edge of his bed and tried to calm down and figure out if he should just kill himself now or wait till morning!
Fucking Hell! Why the hell hadn’t he locked the door?
Despite the humiliation of being caught with his trousers down, he knew it really wasn’t Simon’s fault and he should go apologize or something. At the very least he had to do some damage control. It could have been worse he knew; it could have been his mother who’d walked in, and that didn’t even bear thinking about!
Tentatively, he passed through the en-suite and tapped lightly on the door Simon had slammed behind himself on the way through. Slipping inside, he waited, feeling awkward. Simon was sat at his desk and remained studiously glued to a book, refusing even to acknowledge his presence.
"Look...I'm sorry,” Luke began. “I was just...well, I just didn't expect you to walk in like that."
"You should BLOODY WELL lock the door then!" Simon yelled, still refusing to turn and face him from where he was sitting at his desk, which, unlike Luke’s own, was always neat and tidy.
Luke cringed at the volume. “Okay...okay...you’re right! Keep your voice down, can’t you?” The last thing he need was their mum or dad coming and asking questions! “I should have...and I said I was sorry!" He knew Simon like no other – and guessed his brother wouldn’t stay mad for long. It just wasn't in his nature.
“Sorry for what?” Simon was relentless, and remained fixated on the pages of his textbook.
Oh for God’s sake! “I’m sorry for swearing at you...okay?”
Simon put his pen down and relented. Swinging around, he glowered and then pursed his lips curiously. “Apology accepted. Now, what were you doing?”
Luke tried to brush it off. “Nothing – I was just getting changed.”
The attempt to pass it off fell on deaf ears. “You were playing with your willy, you dirty git, so don’t deny it! And what was that stuff?”
“What stuff?” Luke cringed at the recent memory of his jizz, splashed for all to see.
SHIT!
“You know what stuff!" Simon crossed his arms and waited. "I can always go and ask Mum if you want?”
CRAP! Caught by the short and curlies! But how the hell did you tell somebody about this kind of thing, Luke wondered? The birds and the bees talk. Wasn’t that the stuff parents were meant to do?
Just like they DIDN'T for you, he reminded himself.
It was true, the only way he’d found out about the most important thing he knew of that had to do with sex, was via some dirty mags. And they’d been brought in to school by guys who he hardly trusted at the best of times! Better it come from him, than that.
Simon continued to wait. "Well?"
Luke took a deep breath. "It's called masturbating...." he began. He used the more polite term, but still flushed at the admission he knew what it was and how to do it to.
The blank look he got back put to rest any hope that the mere use of the rather indecent term would be enough. It looked like Simon was as naive as he’d been! Resigned, he tried again. "Okay...well have you ever heard of wanking?"
"You mean like calling someone a wanker?" Simon’s brow furrowed. "What's it got to do with that?"
Luke smirked to himself. Pretty much everything!
Sitting on the edge of the bed, he went on to give his fascinated younger brother a potted version of what he'd discovered. After he'd finished, Simon was full of questions that needed immediate answers.
"So you say you just rub it,” Simon demanded. “And it feels good?"
"It's amazing...trust me!" replied Luke. He heaved himself off the bed, ready to return to his own room, but of course, that same curious brother had to try it straight away! As quick as a flash, Simon had unzipped his shorts, reached under the band of his undies and fished out a limp worm. Following Luke’s instructions, he began sliding his loose skin up and down the small shaft. By the concentration on his face, he could have been performing a science experiment!
Unsurprisingly, as he was a normal guy, that kind of manipulation started him boning up.
As he lengthened to his full size, Luke examined it critically, astonished to discover that the little brother he’d grown up with could be as capable of an erection as he was himself! Though still rather thin, the shaft was respectably long and now completely stiff.
“You mean like this?” said Simon, though he didn't seem that surprised. He obviously knew what a boner was, so Luke reckoned he was going to take the next step easily enough.
“Ah…yep,” Luke coughed, feeling it was high time to go.
“And?"
“Well…you just keep gong.”
Bemused, his brother did just that and then suddenly stopped and, apparently taken by surprise, turned bright red. As his ears burned, he quickly stuffed his stiff dick back inside and stood, looking troubled. “I’ll do it some other time,” he grunted.
Luke smirked. Been there, done that!
He nodded, and tried to settle his brother’s discomfort. “That’s probably best. You were doing it right though, and don’t worry, everyone else does it too.”
“Everyone?” Simon seemed surprised, and then cautious, “You’re sure it doesn’t hurt?”
Luke grinned. That he did have personal insight on. “No – it doesn’t hurt. But you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, you know.”
You're choice bud. He'd give him ten minutes at best!
Simon was non-committal. “Maybe,” he replied. He appeared to brush it off as a problem for another time and went back to his books.
Luke returned to his room, and waited. Maybe he was being mean, but he couldn’t really help it. Call it payback!
It only took just over seven minutes and he heard the kind of heavy breathing and squeaking sounds that could only mean one thing. To be honest, he had to admit, he HAD been listening, curious to know what his brother would do.
Unnanounced, he opened the door to Simon’s room —and his brother would have to learn to use the locks from now on—to find him kneeling on the floor at the end of his bed, his shorts and classic grey Hanes Boys Briefs down at his knees.
Luke smirked at the middle-school standard. That’s what you got if you let Mum buy them for you!
His brother’s aghast face was a picture and Luke sniggered to himself as the lewd thought stuck: so that’s what you look like when you unload it for the first time!
Simon’s hand was still grasping a jutting, thin-ish wanger, and there were discrete spots on the floor. Mouth still hanging open, he raised his flushed face and screeched in horror.
“FUCKING GET OUT!” Shuffling quickly behind the bed, he made a rapid effort to hide his leaking boner.
Luke grinned. “There,” he said, satisfaction oozing through his voice. “Now we’re even!” He closed the door and left. He wasn’t worried, and didn’t expect Simon would be mad for long. He knew his brother too well for that. In fact it only took a few minutes before Simon put his head around the door.
“Bastard!” Simon scowled, but within moments it became a smirk. “Bloody hell, I didn't know it could do that...that was awesome!"
Luke sniggered, though not unkindly. “You might want to use tissues or something, rather than squirt on the floor!”
“Why didn't you tell me about this before?" Simon eyes flicked towards the new toy he’d just discovered hiding inside his shorts. “Does anyone else know about it?”
“They show you how to do it in Biology.” Luke kept his face straight. “It's one of next year year's practicals.”
Simon’s eyes boggled and Luke burst out laughing as his brother fell for it hook, line and sinker! It was almost a shame to add, “Don't worry - I'm just kidding! And yes, most guys our age know how to do it."
He threw him the box of tissues that was on his bedside table and smirked. "But if you make a mess in the sheets and mum catches you, you're on your own!"
Simon caught it, and the speculative look on his face seemed to be considering if the second one could possibly be anywhere near as spectacular as the first!
What his brother did after that day, Luke never knew, and he certainly never asked. What he did know was that, from that moment on, Simon often took as long in the shower as he did!