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Archive-name: First/bend03.txt

Archive-author: R. Palme

Archive-title: Bend in the Road, A - 3

... a story of a young boy's coming of age...

Introduction Revisited

My name is Kyle Spencer and I am a twenty-year-old freshman at university.   I 

am studying language arts and my life long dream is to be a writer.  A teacher 

in my private prepatory school once told me that the world's greatest writers 

draw best from their own experiences.  So, in this first effort, I am sharing 

with you a truthful and open account of my memories of a very different coming 

of age.  You might find it strange, familiar or maybe even bizzare in parts, 

but it is a true and lengthy account.  "Truth is stranger than fiction."   

Now please enjoy ... A Bend in the Road, Part 3

Chapter Eight:

Show and Tell

I began to read a lot in the school library and from my encyclopedia 

set.  I also had an old copy of Dr. Spock's best-selling child care book that 

I snuck out of our house.  I knew about things like circumcision, genitals, 

the importance of toilet training, what to tell your children about sex . . . 

but I hadn't begun to initiate anything beyond looking.  Nothing physically 

sexual, anyways.  With others or myself.  I guess I didn't understand the 


My first hint came just before I was sent to Shawnigan, I was playing 

with a girl my age in her bedroom when she suddenly pulled me down on top of 

her, on her bed.  We were both fully clothed but her dress had ridden up so 

her undies were exposed and that excited me.  I was embarrassed so I tried to 

get up and she promptly pulled me down on her again.  I tried again and she 

pulled again.  I began to get a funny feeling where my little penis rubbed 

against my underpants and her groin.  As we kept this up I got more and more 

excited until I was suddenly tingling over my whole body and my penis seemed 

to be pushed hard against my pants.  Overwhelmed and a bit scared, I slumped 

down on top of her, breathing fast, trying to stop the motion from going any 

further.  I stayed that way until she was ready to push me off.  

I had read about masturbation.  I tried to rub my penis with my hand 

once, but nothing much happened.  Maybe I didn't do it properly.  At the very 

least, I wasn't much interested, being mostly caught up in the new school 

experience.  Not interested, that is, until I met Chris.  His presence seemed 

to spark something in me, like a match to gasoline.  I guess you could say 

that he exuded a budding sexuality, an aura of "experience" beyond all the 

other boys in our class and grade.  And I was truly intrigued.

It happened that one day after class and before supper, I was hiking by 

myself in the bush near the school.  We weren't really supposed to venture 

from the school grounds, but everybody did anyways.  I liked being alone out 

in the woods.  It exilerated me and my imagination soared out there.  I was an 

explorer and "cour de bois" making my northwest passage to the China Sea.  

Along the way I collected dry twigs and bits of wood to make a fire for my 

imaginary meal of beaver and skunk cabbage.

As I rounded a bend in the road that leads to the pond, I saw 

Christopher alone by the bridge.  He didn't see me so I ducked into the bushes 

at the side.  My adventure instantly became that of an international spy, 

collecting evidence for counter-intelligence.  He seemed to be fishing, his 

rod propped against the side of the bridge.  He was standing awkwardly near 

this end of the bridge looking up and down the road.  The air was suddenly 

very still and warm.  He looked around one last time and then walked into the 

bush on the same side of the road as I was.  My detective sense picked up that 

something was going to happen.  The wind picked up a bit and the leaves 

rustled noisly.  Being a good investigator and a cub scout, I decided to make 

my way carefully towards him.  The sound of the wind in the trees would mask 

my approach.  I also wanted to spy on him since he intrigued me so.  Perhaps I 

would learn how to make him like me.  

I came up on him slowly, watching his figure in sections as he moved 

past the many trees.  He had moved deeper into the bush, about 10 yards from 

the road when he stopped.  The last few feet I crawled on my hands and knees, 

being ever so careful not to make a sound.  I was close enough I could see 

everything, but I had to keep my head down, for fear of discovery.

Chris stopped and turned first one way and then the next as if he sensed 

something.  I kept my head down, trying not to make a sound.  He seemed to 

shrug it off.  Next he reached down to the front of his pants.  Slowly, almost 

timidly, he undid his top button then zipper.  He pulled his pants down a bit 

in front exposing his worn underwear.  I thought it was odd that he had to 

take his pants down to pee.  I had pretty much mastered peeing through my fly, 

and was quite proud of it.  I still prefered to take my pants right down, 


But instead of letting out a golden flow of urine into the bushes in 

front, he sighed and began slowly rubbing the front of his cotton underwear 

with his hand.  I breathed nervously, somehow realizing the illicitness of 

what I was about to see.  Chris stopped again to listen to the air, obviously 

he was just as nervous about being caught doing it.  He still didn't see me 

and resumed an up and down motion on the cotton front of his white underwear.  

First with his fingers, then with his open palm and then with the knuckles of 

his closed fist.  It was slow at first and his cheeks became flushed and the 

front of his pouch pushed out and up.  My own face was flushed and my heart 

beat a thousand times a minute.

Chris picked up speed with his rubbing.  He started to breathe more 

heavily, moving his hips slowly.  His head tilted slightly back which brought 

his chest forward and his hips back in a boyish arch.  His round bum stuck out 

more than usual and his knees were slightly bent.  Those wonderful eyes took 

on a far away gaze, blinking closed now and again as if he were thinking 

deeply about something.  His rubbing slowed and after another quick look 

around, he slowly pushed the front of his briefs down with one hand revealing 

his penis.  

It wasn't huge at all but still bigger than mine.  It wasn't even a 

third as big as my father's which I had seen once while changing for the 

beach.  His balls seemed a bit larger than mine and hung a little further 

down.  I could feel my balls were now tight against my shivering body.  It 

also facinated me that he had the tiniest bit of hair just above the base of 

his penis.  It looked odd, his thin prick standing up tight against the smooth 

whiteness of his belly.  But I recognized it as something to admire.  I had an 

odd amount of respect for this unusual display of what I felt was maturity.

Chris clasped his hand around his little penis and began to jerk it up 

and down.  It looked like as if it might hurt, but he seemed to be enjoying it 

something intense.  Up and down, up and down, faster.  I tried hard to swallow 

but my throat was dry.  I couldn't stop myself from coughing.

Chris' head whirled around and I ducked low in the bush.  He was quickly 

pulling up his pants, fearing that an adult had caught on to this little game.  

Staying low, I tried to scramble further into the bush.  But just as I broke 

into a little grassy clearing, I felt his hand clasp my ankle which sent me 

tumbling head first onto the ground.  

A heavy weight was upon me, pushing my head into the dirt.  The tall 

grass made it impossible to see anything and I struggled and squirmed hard.  I 

could tell by the hard breathing that Chris was angry, and I was really 


"What are you lookin' at?" he said as he turned me over, still sitting 

on my legs.  

"I didn't see nothing.  You're hurting my legs."  I thought it best to 

play dumb.

"Why are you always spying on me then, Spencer?"

"Get off me.  I wasn't spying!" I squeaked back.

"Not until we're even.  I want a look at yours."  He said this rather 

mischeviously.  He began fumbling roughly with my pants.

Chris managed to undo my belt, my pant's top button and started with the 

fly.  He was trying to pull down on the front of my pants with the other hand.  

I was trying hard to keep them from going down but he was much stronger.  He 

held my legs down with his own weight and my arm down with one hand.  I was 

embarrassed by this but slightly flushed and excited, putting up only token 

resistance.  I knew I was caught and thought if I resisted, I'd probably get 

beaten up.

"I wanna see what's in your pants," he said excitedly, still out of 

breath.  Just as he was reaching to pull the waistband of my briefs down, I 

lifted up with my hips, taking him off balance a bit.  I struggled harder 

trying to squirm back around and we wrestled around a bit in the grass.  

We struggled a while, rolling close together, but he was strong so I 

yelled, "OK, OK.  I'll show you, just get off me.  

He stood up and took a step back.  We were both covered in dead grass 

and leaves.  Given any other circumstances I would have laughed.  Standing 

towards him I pushed my already undone pants down to the knees.  My underwear 

was slightly stained yellow in front as the excitement had made me dribble a 

bit.  I had to take a leak badly.  I put my small two hands to the waist band 

of my white underwear not sure if I should make a break for it or what.  

I half expected him to laugh, but his eyes seemed to lose that familiar 

sparkle and became deep, dark and fathomless.  He said slowly, "You don't have 

to take them down."

"I wouldn't have told anyone," I returned defensively.  I stood there in 

my underwear, wondering what he was going to do next.

"I like you Spencer, I don't know why but we could be friends."  It 

struck me like a ton of bricks, Chris wanted to be my friend.

"I'm Kyle," I returned as I began pulling my pants back up.

"Ok, Kyle.  If you wanna be friends, we should do it properly.  A fair 

play of show and tell to cement our friendship?"  I didn't know what he meant, 

but I nodded "yes" anyways.   

Taking a quick look around he pulled down his own pants and then his 

underwear to just below his hips, exposing his penis again.  "Wanna touch it?"

I was still out of breath but mesmerized and excited by our activity.  I 

reached out to touch it with one finger and he pulled back away.  "No, not 

like that.  Let me touch yours at the same time," he said.  Slowly I undid my 

pants once again and pulled down my underwear, exposing my little member.  

Chris stepped closer and grabbed my hand.  He moved my hand onto his penis and 

then took hold of mine in his.  We stood there examining each other for a 

while and Chris' dick began growing in my hand!  He laughed nervously.  

"How does it do that?" I questioned.

"Simple, I get a stiffy when I think about girls and stuff. And I can 

make it cum sometimes too." He said this matter-of-factly.

I had to go pee badly and told him so.  Chris asked to watch me.  I was 

a bit ashamed but watered the bushes in front of us and Chris seemed to enjoy 

this.  It was now getting quite late, I was afraid we'd be missed.

"Look, maybe we could come out here again sometime, Spencer"

"I'd like to.  Maybe we can go fishing too. Oh, I prefer Kyle."

"OK, Kyle.  Friends?"


And so we walked together back to the school.  As we walked we talked 

about girls and sex and stuff.  He knew a lot more than me.  Deep down I was 

still curious about that first day.  Did he wet the bed sometimes like me?  We 

didn't talk about that or what we had done but we agreed not to tell another 

soul about that afternoon.   

Chapter Nine:

The Dream

After that incident we sort of became friends and he paid a little more 

attention to me.  Once, he chose me first for his team in soccer, even though 

I'm not the most coordinated athlete.  I helped him with his homework 

sometimes, intent on being the one to recognize his potential.  But I still 

wasn't allowed to be completely friendly with him at all times, maybe it was 

because of my age.  He usually kept his distance unless we were alone or he 

was interested in what I was doing.

One day during class, a rumour spread that Chris was going to choose one 

friend to accompany him home that weekend, it was his birthday.  This would be 

an especially significant honor since his mother lived in Vancouver, on the 

mainland and it would mean a trip on the ferry.  Even contemplating the 

possibility of a trip with Chris got me very excited.  

That night I had a dream that Chris and I were taking the night ferry 

across the straight and had to share an old fashioned steamer bed, the kind 

that is like a shallow box with sides and a drape that you pull across for 

privacy.  Of course night ferries and sleepers don't exist on this line (too 

many islands in the water . . . besides, they're large modern car ferries) . . 

. but this was a dream.

In the dream Chris and I sat in the bunk facing each other with legs 

crossed.  The boat rocked gently back and forth and there was a constant humm 

of the motors.  Chris began by removing his shirt. He still had a young boy's 

soft clear skin, but was beginning to develop a hint of firmer muscle in his 

arms and chest.  Chris reached out and pulled the curtains closed for privacy, 

plunging us into darkness.  

By sound and motion, I tried to mirror each move of his wishing I could 

actually see his body in the deep darkness.  Next came the socks and finally 

the pants so we were both naked except for our underwear.  

In this dream I remembered wanting to fall and accidently put my head in 

Chris's lap, drinking in the distinctively sweet smell of his boyhood groin.  

It was still very dark, the way it is inside a box.  You can only make out 

pinholes of light breaking through at the corners.  I felt him lift the covers 

and we both scooted in, keeping as much apart as we could in the small bed.

We both lay on our backs, contemplating in the darkness of the 

compartment.  I felt Chris shift his weight and turn over.  He must have been 

falling asleep.  He put his leg over mine and his arm on my chest and I felt 

the softness of his underwear brush against my leg.  The proximity of Chris 

and the gentle rocking of the boat made me flushed and excited.  Back and 


The flush turned to warmness against my leg where Chris was touching me, 

and that warmness spread slowly down and around my leg and between my thighs.  

My excitement was mounting and my breath came in short excited bursts, afraid 

as I was, to awaken Chris.  Instead of pressing out sharply against my 

underwear, my dick seemed to just swell a little, feeling tickly and funny.  I 

didn't really want to get hard in this situation, but I knew there was little 

I could do to stop it.  

Scared to have Chris discover my boner, I turned over.  The warmness 

that covered my thighs turned cold and wet!   I awoke in a start to find that 

I was very much alone in my own bed and had wet the sheets.  It was the first 

time at Shawnigan, and the first time that I could remember in over a year.

I was horrified at the thought of discovery and wanted to avoid an 

embarassing jeering by my peers at all costs.  Being caught would surely mean 

having to wear diapers to bed the next night.  Luckily it was the middle of 

the night and my roommate was fast asleep.  I stood and lifted the top cover 

and comforter back, which were not very wet at all, revealing the yellow stain 

where I had let go in my sleep.  I tugged off the white sheet and hurried out 

the door, still in my sopping wet undies.  I sneaked down the hall to the 

laundry shoot, where I stuffed the smelly sheet, and pulled a fresh one from 

the linen closet.  I stuffed my wet underpants into the garbage shoot outside 

the bathroom on the way back.

It was a close call, but my accident would remain unnoticed!

Chapter Ten: 

Chris's Birthday Party (excerpt)

After the dream, I spent my morning avoiding Chris like the plague.  

Somehow I thought he might have had the same dream.  Or maybe he could see 

right through me and know what I was thinking.  Of course this was just 

paranoid embarassment, but the rituals of childhood are strong magic.

In math class I kept my head down, hard at work on the principles of 

some word problem that envolved apples and hungry animals.  In english I had 

to deliver a passage from our reader while standing in front of the class.  It 

took great skill not to meet Chris' gaze from his seat in the back of the 

room.  Afterwards I scooted back to my seat, sitting low and avoiding any 

further attention.


...I stood there shivering a bit, knowing I could no longer hold it in.  

I hated myself for not asking to go back to the bathroom right then.  No one 

would have cared. I was just a little boy.  Boys ask to go to the loo all the 

time.  But I couldn't.  I didn't have any time left, anyways.  No matter how 

embarrassing, I had to let it go in front of all the other kids.  

The little group stood in back of a pumper, listening as a tall 

firefighter explained what this hose or that ladder was.  I stood a bit back 

from the group, being the last to follow everyone around.  Chris spied me from 

his position up front, nodding to have me come up with him but I just shook my 

head no as if I was content with where I stood.  He turned back to the action.  

The other firefighters had had enough of our group and were probably hiding in 

front of the tv up stairs.

Looking around I saw a square iron grating not a foot from me, like the 

kind over storm sewers.  It was a drain for when the fire trucks came back wet 

and dripping.  I moved myself quickly over the drain and just had to let go.  

Slowly at first and then all at once the warm liquid flowed against my leg, 

soaking the front of my briefs and spreading like a warm wet cloth over my 

crotch and belly.  A stream formed down the inside of my leg and I stood with 

my little legs a bit apart so the golden stream came out my pant leg and 

expertly bounced off my dress shoe into the grate.  It didn't make any sound 

above the many noises of the station.  I pretended to watch the fireman, but 

was concentrating on my pee pee.  All at once the station alarm rang out, so 

deafeningly loud that it scared the little girls in the group...and I caught 

CHris looking straight at me, his face was flushed red!

...continued in Part Four:   BEND04.ZIP


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