Just a New Kid in Town.

See ‘Letters’ and ‘Keeping it Short and Neat’ for the first four letters.

Letter 5 - Just a New Kid in Town.

I moved twice growing up. The first time I left behind my best friend. He was someone I felt totally comfortable with, someone I could share a couch with or wrestle and giggle with. A few years later I realized he was my first crush, but at the time I didn’t understand the concept. I was just sad when I left.

The next few years I had trouble making new friends. Being new in a school was difficult when the rest of the kids knew each other for years. And I had another problem. I was attracted to boys. I was afraid to make a friend and have them find out about me. I would get nervous around boys who I found cute.

Then our family moved again. It was the middle of the school year. There were so many classes of different kids, so many kids in different grades. I was lost. I was still afraid someone would figure me out. High school was different because new groups formed, not just kids who went to grade school together. I hung around a group of kids who didn’t smoke and weren’t too cool. We usually met in the library at lunch and played cards. There was one kid in the group who kind of intimidated me. Jamie. He was fearless and would fight anyone for any reason. And he liked to roughhouse with his friends, pinning them and twisting their arms. He even did it to guys bigger than him.

I tried to avoid antagonizing him, but one day I set him off. He grabbed a hold of me and pinned my arms behind me. I felt panicky and pissed off. We fell onto the carpet, and I struggled to get out of his hold. Somehow, I was able to break his hold and twist him down. I held him against the carpet using all my weight. He struggled feebly and then gave up. “You win.” He said. I let him go, expecting a trick, but he just gave me a smile. What the hell? He must have let me win, but I couldn’t understand why. He kept looking at me and he sat down next to me at the table. In three minutes, I had gone from sheer panic to feeling the closest I had felt to anyone in the last four years. I looked over at him and he had a small happy smile. I realized how cute he was.

I don’t want to say that I had an instant crush, but I tried to spend as much time with him as I could. I was rewarded with some horseplay. He would sneak up behind me and lift me in the air. He would bump into me sometimes and throw his arm around my shoulders and try to make me drop my book. And sometimes we wrestled. It happened a couple times in a room of the library where there were very few people around. I loved that. And yes, I could tell that he got hard. I certainly did. I made sure that at school I wore tight enough pants that would hold down my erection.

As soon as the weather was good enough, I biked over to his house. I was hoping something would happen between us, but I was afraid. Afraid that he would reject me, afraid that he would find out what I wanted, and he would stop hanging out with me. More than anything I wanted to keep hanging out with him. The first time I visited him we did some arm twisting and pushing, but that was it. I thought maybe since we were alone, there would be more. I still had a great time, and I still got to spend time with him and enjoy how cute he was.

I had a fantasy of what could happen between us, but it was important to me that I wasn’t the one to do anything first. I could have kissed him or told him how I felt, but if that didn’t work it would be over. Then one time we fooled around on the couch when no one else was home. We were watching TV and he moved my arm off the top of the couch. I put it back and moved his arm out of the way. It turned into a struggle. We ended up trying to hold each other down, like wrestling, but kind of a test of strength. He got his weight on top of me and pressed me into the cushions. He was lying on top of me, and I could feel his hardon in his sweatpants rubbing up against the curve of my ass in my shorts. I pretended to try to twist out of the position, but each time he managed to get me back into position while he swung his hips. After I finally twisted over, we were face to face. His stomach pressed down on mine and we were both grinding our hips against each other. I was getting so hard; I felt like I was going to cum in my underwear. My legs were spread with him on top and his shaft slid against my balls as my dick pressed through the shorts against his lower stomach. Both of us repeated our movements as he breathed heavily against my neck. A door opened and we stopped. We both sat up quickly, red faced and breathing heavily, as his sister came in and stared at us. She left the room without commenting.

I went to the bathroom. I dropped my shorts and underwear and I sprung out. It looked swollen and red and the tip moved up an down. After a while it stopped moving. I didn't want to be in the bathroom too long, but it took a couple of minutes to soften sufficiently for me to piss.

We kept hanging out at school and at his house and I was having fun, but nothing as intense happened again. He briefly grinded against me a few times, but it didn't lead to anything else. As the weeks went by, I was wondering if he even was attracted to me or if it was all one-sided on my part. When school finished, I saw him less. He didn’t live that close, so I had to call before I visited. He never called me, so I would wait days before I called him. I didn’t want to scare him away by seeming desperate. I schemed in my head on how I could get him to make the first move.

Finally, he called me and asked me why I wasn’t coming over as much. I told him I would meet him at the beach after dinner if he wanted. I call it a beach, but it was more stones than sand. It had a parking lot and a change room and was busy on hot days in the summer. We met at a convenience store, and I added his bathing suit and towel to my backpack, and we biked the rest of the way together.

When we got there the parking spaces were already crowded with cars. In the change room I made sure to talk to him as I took off my shirt, so that he would keep looking my way. Then I turned around, as if I was shy and shimmied my jeans down my legs. I bent low to move them past my feet one at a time, and then I did the same thing for my underwear. As I bent over holding my underwear I looked back between my knees and saw that his feet were still facing me. He was getting a view. Then I made a show of pulling up my bathing suit and wiggling in. When I turned around, he still had not even dropped his jeans. I grabbed my towel and went outside to wait.

At the beach we set up the towels to look at the crowd. There were a few women to look at and Jamie whispered observations about their bodies. When he pointed a particular feature out, I pretended to look intently, and he used my distraction to slap my stomach. Typical Jamie. I waited until a large breasted woman was walking by and as Jamie stared, I gave him a purple nurple. (a titty twist) He always laughed hard when I got him good.

We played in the water with a frisbee and eventually headed off to one side to get away from the other people. The next hour was a bit of a dream for me as we played in the water together. Swimming, fighting over the frisbee, carrying each other, and playing games of balance and strength. We spent a lot of time pressed together and there was no hiding our erections while wearing bathing suits. I was tempted many times to reach into his bathing suit. When he retrieved the frisbee from a shallower area I could see how tented his bathing suit was. I wanted to follow him and drop to my knees and pull it out of his bathing suit.

The sun was hovering over the horizon, and we decided to get back to our bikes. As we rounded the corner, we saw an empty beach. As we approached the change room the last car was pulling away. This is exactly what I wanted. In the change room I stripped quickly and walked over to the showers. I told him we should wash off the lake water. I had brought a nice piece of soap and started soaping myself. We faced each other and I kept talking as if it was normal for us to ignore his obvious erection. Mine was not as hard because my mind was racing, and I was nervous.

I handed him the soap and watched his soapy hands move over his body. Now I was erect. I turned a bit to try to hide it, but it was sticking straight out. When he put the soap down, I took it and moved behind him. I offered to wash his back. I started applying the soap to his back as the water splashed down on us. When his back was soapy, I started rubbing it in with both hands. I didn’t stop at his back either. I washed his ass cheeks and between them. My fingers even went to the very bottom, to the gap between his legs.

I stopped and started soaping myself again. I was doing the top of my legs then my knees and then all the way down to my ankles. I was turned away from him and I took my time soaping the top of my feet. Then I straightened and twisted towards him. I handed him the soap and asked him to wash my back. There was a roughness to his hands and a clumsiness of motion on my back which I loved. His hardness brushed up against my backside. I thought he might shove it in, but he backed away. Then he washed my ass. He took his time and was even more thorough than I was with him. He slid his fingers into my crack. When his fingers rubbed against my opening I struggled not to gasp. He stopped with his hands, and I felt his shaft and the head of his penis move in, until it was resting against my opening. He pushed forward as I pushed back, and his head slid in. He started grinding it a few inches in for a while. The sensation overwhelmed me, and I held on to a shower dial with one hand and held my swollen prick with the other.

He held still and leaned forward. I felt his hand groping forward and touching my dick and making contact with my fingers. Then he straightened and put one hand on my hip and grabbed my arm with the other. He started rocking into me in a steady rhythm. He was deeper and larger than the brush handle I sometimes pushed in, and he felt a million times better. Cum was dripping out of the tip of my penis and as he pounded me harder it started to ooze out. I moaned as I gently stroked my shaft. I spasmed behind my balls as he grinded. Even when he held still, I continued to pulse deep inside as a steady stream of jizz landed on the wet tile floor. Jamie thrust harder until I felt his hips pressing against me. Then his dick flexed, and I felt him cum as he grunted. He pushed into me and pulled my arm and hip over and over as he grunted and shook his hips.

Eventually he stopped flexing and he slid it out of me. When I turned to look, he was soaping his dick. His eyes were half closed, unfocused. Then he looked at me and handed me the soap. So cute.