Coming of Age
By: Brock Archer
(© 2020 by the author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

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Chapter 3
Homework and dirty talk

Over supper, Johnny charmed my folks with praise for their sons—both of their sons. I was somewhat embarrassed, but also flattered. He also complimented Mom’s cooking and Dad’s industriousness in keeping the farm going. When we finished eating, Johnny said to Mom, “Why don’t you go take a load off your feet, Mrs. Murphy? Rick and I can take care of the dishes.” Mom, of course, was very impressed, but Dad reminded me that I still had homework to do, so when I headed back upstairs, Johnny said to Mom, “OK, then I guess it’s just you and me, Mrs. Murphy.”

When Johnny finally came up to my room to join me, I asked, “It took you an hour to do the dishes?”

“Nah. I’ve been chatting with your dad about stuff.”

“Stuff?”

“You know…football, the weather, the new farm bill that’s just been introduced in Congress.” I laughed it off like he was wasting his time trying to impress me. I didn’t learn until the next day that he actually did know everything there was to know about that farm bill, including which Congressmen and Senators were likely to support it and which ones weren’t.

“Whatchya workin’ on?” he asked, leaning over my shoulder. I could feel his body heat beating down on my neck.

“English Lit,” I stammered. Johnny and I had different English teachers, and even though the curriculum was pretty standardized, each teacher was free to use whatever materials he or she wanted. “Mrs. Bagley gave us a list of quotes from various works, and we have to find out who wrote them and which works they’re in.”

“Cool,” he said, “Like what?”

“Well, this one is from ‘Hamlet.’ Shakespeare.” And I read out, “Those friends thou hast and their adoption tried, grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel.”

“Ah, yes,” said Johnny. “Polonius’ advice to his son Laertes as he and Hamlet set sail for France. Most people are familiar with the line ‘Neither a borrower nor a lender be’ from that soliloquy, but I like the line you just read.”

Who the fuck does he think he’s fooling? Mr. Kaplan must have given his class the same assignment earlier.

“What else ya got?” he asked, stepping away from my desk as if to size up the room.

“Well, I’m a little unsure about this one: ‘Do not do unto others as you would that they should do unto you. Their tastes may not be the same.’ Sounds like Oscar Wilde, but I’m not sure.”

“George Bernard Shaw,” said Johnny matter-of-factly. And before I could question him, he added, “Most people think that Wilde and Shaw were British because they did most of their writing there, but actually they were both born and educated in Ireland. Of course, you knew that, being Irish and all.”

“Who the hell are you?” I asked incredulously.

“Just a dumb jock,” he offered. “You done now?”

Speechless, I just nodded and put away my books.

“Good. I believe you had some pictures to show me.”

Yes, my walls were covered with pictures of Mike, including some of Mike and me together. Johnny and I talked more about football and, of course, what all 14-year-old boys are obsessed with: sex.

“We’d better get ready for bed,” I said. “You’re probably not used to getting up as early as I am, but I’ve got chores to do in the morning before we catch the school bus.” We stripped down to our briefs, but we didn’t go to bed right away. Instead, we continued our conversation about the favorite topic of boys everywhere.

I was dying to know more about his experiences jerking off with other guys on the football team, but I didn’t want him to think that I was gay, so I was relieved when he volunteered the information.

“Circle jerks?” I asked.

“Yeah, sometimes we stand or sit around in a circle and jerk off. The object of the game is to see who can cum first. In one variation, we don’t beat ourselves off. Each guy pumps the man next to him. The guy who finishes last has to clean up the mess.”

It was all I could do to keep my jaw from hitting the floor. Wow! That’s a lot of cum wasted.

“Dude, if you expect me to sleep in that bed with you, you’re gonna have to do something about that submarine,” he insisted, pointing at the tent in my briefs.

“Submarine?”

“Yeah, it’s big and hard and full of semen, isn’t it?”

I had to laugh.

“And,” he continued, “I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let you be poking me with that thing all night.”

“Well, looks to me like you’re launching a pretty big sub yourself,” I said, pointing at the bulge in his briefs.

As he pulled down his underwear and sat on the bed, I pulled down mine and sat in my desk chair facing him. We started out stroking ourselves slowly and gradually picked up the pace. Shortly, he gave me a questioning look. No words were spoken, but I knew what he was asking me. I simply nodded, pulled my chair closer to him, reached out and took his cock in my hand. At the same time, he took over pumping my man meat. As soon as I felt his skin on mine, an electric shock zapped me.

“Oh fuck!”

“Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Fuck yeah,” I gushed.

Maybe it was just the novelty of having another man’s hand on my dick for the first time, but having him jerk me off felt better than jerking myself off. And I don’t know, but it looked like he might have felt the same way.

“Oh shit!” he exclaimed. “Damn motherfucker!”

His dirty talk turned me on even more, so I reciprocated.

“Fuck, man. Your hand on my cock feels fuckin’ fantastic. My dick never felt so gooood.”

“It feels….” From the way his body twitched, I could tell that another electric shock had interrupted his speech. “Are you sure you’ve never done this before? You’re a helluva lot better at it than Hightower.” (Boys on the football team often called each other by their last names, as their coaches usually did.)

I smirked at the thought of being able to please him more than one of his teammates had. Seeing precum forming on the tip of his dick, I reached over with my free hand and wiped off the nectar with my finger and brought it to my mouth. His eyes squinted as if to disapprove, but his throbbing cock told me otherwise. It began to pulsate, so I knew he was getting close, as was I. I slowed my pumping almost to a halt.

“What the fuck are you doing, man? Don’t stop now. You’re fuckin’ killing me, dude. Beat the shit out of that motherfucker!” I relished in the thought of torturing my new friend—like a gentleman, of course—but I acquiesced to his wishes and picked up the pace. The throbbing increased. The closer he got, the tighter he squeezed my dick with one hand and practically choked the bed sheet to death with the other. All I could think of was that I was glad he was choking my dick and not my balls.

He scrunched up his face just as he exploded all over himself…and me! I would swear that he shot out even more semen than he had that afternoon. I worried that he was going to scream as he had then, causing my parents to barge in to see what was the matter, so I grabbed a pillow and covered his mouth. Sure enough, he screamed into the pillow. His spasms continued for what seemed like forever until he fell back on the bed grasping for breath, releasing my cock in the process. When he finally came back to Earth, he gasped for words to describe the intense feeling he had just experienced, and then it hit him.

“Oh my god, champ. I’m so sorry. I was so wrapped up in my own orgasm that I completely lost track of yours. We’ve gotta get you off too.” As he grasped my still-hard dick again, two thoughts consumed me. One was that it was so considerate of him to want to please me as I had pleased him. I think I was wrong about him. He’s really a nice guy.

The second thought that hit me was that he had called me ‘champ.’ Nobody but Mike had ever called me that before, and I’m sure that I hadn’t told him about that. I don’t know where it came from, but it felt incredibly good.

Refocusing on my tingling cock, I suddenly became aware that he was now pulling on my dick with both hands. He must have seen my eyes widen, so he explained, “Jeez, champ”—there it was again, and my cock pulsated in response—“I can’t believe how big this motherfucker is. It’s a fucking monster.” His flattery almost brought me to a climax, but he suddenly let go. I glared at him in shock, and before I could say anything, he sneered, “How the hell do you like it, motherfucker?”

Stunned and without realizing that I had loads of his cum on one of my hands, I grabbed his shoulders and commanded, “I’m gonna fuckin’ burn your ass, you sonofabitch, if you don’t jerk off that fuckin’ monster right now.” I could see him struggling to suppress his mischievous glee as he wrapped both hands around my cock again and resumed pumping and pulling. “Oh, gawd. It feels so goddam good.”

“Cum for me, champ. Shoot that fuckin’ load. Blow the goddam roof off this fuckin’ house. Give it to—”

And I did. The first load shot way over his head and landed on the wall behind him. The second one flew even higher. The third one hit him in the face and almost put one eye out. The fourth and fifth volleys coated his chest and abs. It all happened so fast that he barely had time to react. “What the fuck, dude?” he exclaimed as he reflexively released his grip on my still-pulsating member. Not quite spent, I fell back in my chair, gripping my own cock now, and the next three loads covered my pecs and abs. Number nine soaked my pubes, and the last two spilled over the head of my cock and dribbled onto my hand.

When I finally stopped hyperventilating and opened my eyes, I could hardly believe the beautiful carnage that we had just created. My gawd, there was cum everywhere. Johnny spoke before I could, “Jeeezus, man! You came more than the whole fuckin’ football team. If I hadn’t seen you cum this afternoon, I would have sworn that you had been saving up for months. Who knew that two balls cold hold that much juice?”

I laughed, but I had to suppress it because I was still struggling to catch my breath. When my capacity for speech finally returned, I gloated, “You look like shit, man.”

“Oh yeah? Well you look like a fucking snowman.” I had to laugh in spite of myself. I swirled around and sat on the bed next to Johnny. The two of us fell back on the bed, our arms touching. We turned our heads, our eyes connecting, smiling at each other.

“Oh shit, buddy, let me get that jizz before it oozes down into your eye.” ‘Buddy?’ Where did that word come from? I don’t know, but it just seemed right. Johnny and I had started the day as strangers—aloof strangers at that—but we had become acquaintances, and now were we actually becoming friends?

I reached over and gently (dare I say ‘lovingly’?) wiped my cum from Johnny’s eyebrow. I brought my finger to my mouth and licked the cum. Johnny winced, but not nearly as much as he had before. I don’t know if he was just too exhausted to object or if he was becoming less averse to the idea of eating cum. I pressed on, scraping cum off of my chest and swallowing it. I didn’t know if it was Johnny’s cum or mine, but I didn’t really care. I just wanted it.

“Umm, Rick, I hope I didn’t offend you with my foul language. I guess I just got carried away.”

“Are you fuckin’ crazy?” I asked. “I thought it was spec-fucking-tacular. It was so hot, it really turned me on and got my juices flowing. I wish I had recorded it so I could play it back whenever I wanted. I could listen to you talk like that all day.”

Johnny smiled back at me with a mixture of bewilderment and delight.

“Let’s clean up,” I said. My parents’ bedroom was on the first floor, so I wasn’t too concerned when we traipsed to the bathroom with nothing on but our cum and our devilish grins. I suggested that Johnny shower first while I took a piss and brushed my teeth.

After a few minutes, Johnny pulled back the curtain and asked, “I dunno. Do you think I got it all?” Obviously, ‘it’ was the cum. I inspected his body as thoroughly as I dared.

“I think so,” I said. “Hey, how about you step aside, let me wash up, and you can check to see if I got it all too.” That was a mistake. I immediately started to pop another boner, and so did he. We agreed to jerk off again in the shower. Johnny peed and brushed his teeth while I turned down the bed covers. When he came back into my bedroom, I was already lying down on my back under the covers on one side. He crawled in naked, as I was.

“You’d better roll over and face the other way, champ. I’ll be damned if I’m gonna have you poking me with that bazooka all night.”

“I could say the same to you, buddy, but I probably would never even feel that little peanut.”

“Oh, dude, you’re asking for a whoopin’.”

“Yeah, you and what army?”

Eventually, we drifted off to sleep, still swapping friendly insults.

I don’t know what he dreamed about that night, but I know that we both woke up with morning wood. Of course, we wasted no time jerking off again, but even so, I went through the entire school day holding books in front of my crotch.

We got back our algebra tests. I scored a pretty respectable 97, but when I asked Johnny how he had done, he just replied, “OK,” and we left it at that.

To be continued...

Posted: 11/20/2020