Woody in the Woods

The pool party was still raging on as the afternoon settled into an unforgivable fit of heat. Slip ‘n Slides were strewn out here and there down the hill, the pool, although heavily used, was being fed gallon after gallon of water through a hose that hadn’t been turned off at all for the last three hours. The ages spanned from infant to adult as my parents worked their asses off to keep the kids going. I don’t know most the kids here; maybe I shouldn’t have said to bring a friend in the invite.

At this time, the amount of strangers heavily standing over me around the pool isn’t my biggest worry. With all the water circulating and flying around, I have the sudden urge to take a piss. I decide to stash the urge away and forget about if for a little while. I’m almost ready to get back in the pool with my best friends Kaleb and Cindy, but the sudden rush of agonizing ecstasy that the piss is creating on me is too much.

“Uh,” I say and pull away. I rush to the back of the house and through the garage until I hit the back yard. I look around at my backyard. A smaller hill stands shrouded by trees where we once kept dogs fenced in; a small room built separate from the house is covered in screens for windows instead of glass and an open doorway, and grass makes up the rest before you hit the wooded area that surrounds us.

I listen for someone around, but hear nothing. Standing in a small plot of dirt, I walk forward and start to turn to the knob on a door—which, I might add, is built into a fairly large screened wall. Then I hear it: The shuffling of feet. A whisper sounds and a small laugh. I inch my way forward to see who’s there and see the tips of toes. Leaning into the screen, I look over and see a hand reach into a pair of swim trunks and pull out a penis. It’s small, about two and a half inches, and rather lean and skinny. Whoever’s it is is cut. The boy shakes it in his hand for a moment and giggles.

Then I hear a rip and fall. The screen tore on me and sends me tumbling through the breakable wall into the grass. The boy gasps and turns to run away, but I tell him to stop.

“Why?” He turns back and looks. With black hair falling around his neck and piercing green eyes, I know this boy from somewhere. He’s only two years younger than I. He wears only lime green swim trunks, and for a thirteen year old, he’s rather skinny. No bones peak through his skin, nor does any trace of muscle or fat threaten to be there. He’s just as lean as his penis is.

“Weren’t you going to pee?”

He nods his head. “I don’t know if I need to now.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t like peeing in front of strangers,” he says. “I don’t even know who you are.”

I laugh and pick myself up. “Well, my name is Colin. I’m fifteen years old and this is my house. As you can see we pretty much have the same body type, but I have short blond hair and blue eyes. Know me now?”

He shrugs his shoulders, “I know you well enough, I guess.”

I nod my head. “Well, then. I have to take a piss, so you can do what you want.” I reach into my shorts and pull out my flaccid, three-inch penis. Looking at myself for a moment, I think about his and notice the differences. I’m slightly longer, and much thicker, and a little darker. I’m uncircumcised, and if I pull back my foreskin my head will be a slightly paler pink than his.

Piss runs slowly from the tip of my cock as I start to due my business. I look over at him and catch him stealing a glance at my member. Then he blushes and looks into the direction I’m aiming for and goes for it.

Then he does something I’ve never seen a person do before. He lifts his penis up and bends it backwards; the piss from his cock soars back and runs over his chest. He smiles and closes his eyes.

“Um, what are you…”

He jumps and lets go of his cock. It stands almost erect looking as he pisses, then he grabs it and pinches the flow from continuing. His face reads discomfort. “I don’t…”

“You like pee on you?”

He blushes and turns away nodding.

Curiosity sparks my imagination and I pinch my own flow. “Like, if I randomly piss on you you’d like it?”

“I don’t know,” he says. “Never happened before.”

I turn and let go; my piss flies through the air and hits his bare stomach. He giggles and watches it hit him then blushes even harder and pulls away. “Stop it or I’ll drown you!”

“Drown me,” I have just enough time to say when he hits me square in the chin with his own piss. Some of it touches my lips and escapes into my mouth where I choke and pull back. Wiping my face, I look at him with irritation. “What the hell was that for?”

“I didn’t mean it,” he says throwing his hands in the air. “Promise.”

Still tasting his pee in my mouth, I spit onto the ground until I realize that I kind of liked that—getting peed on, not the shit in your mouth, I think to myself. Then I realize neither of us is peeing anymore, we’re just standing with our dicks hanging off our waistbands.

“Well, I have to go,” the boy says and turns away.

“Wait,” I yell back at him. “What’s your name?”

“Roger.” He keeps walking.

I rush forward and put my hands on his shoulders. “Do you want to take a walk with me?” I smile.

“You’re not mad?”

“No.”

“Isn’t this your birthday party, Colin,” he says back. “Shouldn’t you stay?”

I shake my head. “I’ll do whatever I want.”

“Okay,” he says and follows me to the edge of the woods. I search for the small opening I sometimes go into and lead him through. When we stand surrounded by trees, we venture down a rarely traveled path.

I look over at him. “So, Roger, how did you manage to come here? I don’t remember sending you an invite.”

“My dad is a friend with yours.” Twigs and leaves make cracking sounds as his bare feet steps over them. He holds his hands in his pockets and stares at the earth. “He brought me along.”

With that, I recognize him. He’s been over a time or two, but never for too long. Not long enough for either of us to learn the other’s name, that’s for sure. He was in my room once; my mom brought him in to show him a car I collect because at the time he did it too. I was just pulling my boxer’s over my butt when they startled me. I had just gotten out of the shower.

“Benny,” I say back to him, “or Gabe?”

“Gabe,” he answer.

Together we walk for at least twenty minutes making small conversation when he tugs on my arm. “Hey,” he says, “I have to pee. I’ll be back.”

“Okay,” I answer and walk over to a tree as thick as my arms are when stretched. I hunker down on the ground feeling leaves burrow into the legs of my swim trunks and try to fish them out. Ahead of me, Roger paces looking for a place to do his business.

Watching him, I cross my legs when I feel a sudden sensation build below my waist. Instinctively, my hand covers over my crotch, and three of my fingers slowly start to fondle my half-erect penis beneath the fabric.

Roger finally picks a spot and takes the courtesy of turning away from me, but the thought of what we did earlier makes me go crazy. Suddenly, my fifteen-year-old cock has grown to a little over five inches and is throbbing. I’m not one to masturbate, but I have to this time. It’s been, like, two weeks! I need to blow. And without thinking, I pull myself from my shorts and start stroking.

“Whoa,” he says and stumbles back. “What are you…?”

“I don’t,” I start to say, and then I shake my head. No, I’m gonna tell the truth. “Jacking off,” I say to him instead. “You ever do this.”

He rocks back on the balls of his feet and says shyly, “Sometimes when I’m really, really upset it makes me feel better. But dad says it’s not a good thing to do, so I try not to.”

“I don’t do it often,” I admit and pull down to expose my head. “But when I do it makes me feel better, too. Like, right now. But I can stop if you want me too.” I go to put it back into my pants.

He throws his hands into the air, “No!”

“Why the excited, ‘No?’” I smirk jokingly.

He shrugs his shoulders, “Because you don’t have to do things for me.”

Then I take a leap and see where it gets me. “You can,” I draw out the “can” before saying quickly, “join me if you want.”

He just looks at me with this shy face that looks extremely cute. And for the first time today, I’m venturing into a part of sexuality that I never even imagined. His eyes skim down my body and stop at my cock. I start to stroke slowly, squeezing my head each time I pull up to darken the pink. “I think I’ll go back,” he says, but doesn’t move. Instead, he walks forward and slides down to sit besides me. “At least, I’ll get around to going back.”

“You gonna jack,” I ask.

He shakes his head and leans back into the bark of the tree. “I’m not really in the mood,” he says. “I’m not upset.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Have you ever seen another guy’s penis before, Roger?”

“No,” he says back. “Yours is my first. Have you?”

“Plenty, but it’s always been in the locker room after sports at school. And only for like, a second.”

“Nice.”

Stroking myself, I stare at my cock for a few seconds before looking back up at him. Though his face is slightly tilted up towards the sky, his eyes peer down at my cock. “You want to touch it,” I say.

He shakes his head as his cheeks flood with color. “No!”

“You sure?”

“I’m not gay, Colin.”

“Then why the hell are you staring at my cock?”

“Because there’s nothing better to stare at,” he answers, chest suddenly rising and falling like he’s out of breath.

I laugh. “Then touch it. I dare you.”

“No,” he says back.

I put it away and sigh. Inside my pants, my cock continues to throb. In my peripheral vision, I see his eyes eyeing my shorts. I make my cock jump a few times.

His fingers twitch on the ground.

With my right hand, I pull my cock back out with the head hidden by foreskin. The other hand reaches and grabs Roger’s.

“What are you,” he starts to say but falls quiet. I don’t have to make his fingers wrap around my shaft and grip me; he does it on his own. “I’ve never touched a guy before,” he blushes even harder.

“Just jack me how you jack yourself,” I say to him and close my eyes.

“I don’t know if you’ll like it,” he answers.

Reopening my eyes, I stare down at his hand. I push my pants away exposing my thighs and, with my left hand, grip my balls and tug them up. Then the other wraps around Colin’s hand and eases it down. When my head becomes exposed, he gasps. For at least a minute, almost as if we’re some couple in a movie, I teach him how to stroke me.

I glance over at his cock seeing no signs of enjoyment under his short. I let go of his hand, he continues, and I slide mine into the waistband of his jeans. He doesn’t stop me. Flaccid, I pull his cock out and play with it until he suddenly has a full hard-on. He almost reaches my length, but is still pretty thin. I stroke him, and he strokes me, and in no time we got a system going on that fits up pretty well.

Then he smacks my hand away and says, “Stop!”

“Why,” I ask.

“Because, I’m gonna cum.”

“That’s the point.”

He pushes himself to his feet and stands over me. I grab my now handless cock and start to stroke. “You’re gonna cum on me?”

“I peed on you, so why not cum?”

“Go for it,” I say.

And he does. Then I smack his hand away and grab his cock. Pulling, he takes his steps until he’s literally about five inches from my face. I stroke him roughly to create a fast orgasm and he doesn’t let me regret it. He starts to moan really loud then grunts as one rope shoots forward and hits my neck. I feel it drizzle down. The rest of his cum just spews out gently over my hand as I barely stroke his cock.

I look up at him and notice his breathing is even harder. Sweat covers his face and his cheeks shine like crimson.

“I’m not done,” I say and lean forward. My lips touch the tip of his dick, and he squeals.