Ken James Fiction

 

Sex Education 1 - Discoveries

Shortly before my eleventh birthday, I made an earth-shattering discovery - my penis.

Obviously, I'd known it existed long before that particular day. It was the little tubular thing that dangled between my legs. I used it to pee and I wasn't supposed to show it to other people. From gym class, I knew that all the other boys had penises, too. When I watched my parents changing my baby brother and sister, I saw that Scott had one, but Shannon just had a little fold of skin where a penis should have been. Mom told me that was one of the differences between boys and girls.

For several weeks before I made my discovery, there had been numerous occasions when my penis had suddenly grown uncomfortably stiff and stayed that way for several minutes before relaxing. On this particular night, it happened while I was in bed. I waited for it to go down, but it just grew harder as time passed.

A sensation almost like a burning itch began growing in my penis. I rolled over onto my stomach, hoping I could smother my hardness into submission. My new position didn't help. I began to squirm in discomfort. The rough fabric of my pajamas was scraping my penis, so I pulled them down. Rubbing my penis against the smooth sheets seemed to reduce the itching. In fact, it started becoming enjoyable. I rubbed faster and faster. Suddenly, wave after wave of pleasure washed over my body. I was dimly aware that the sensations were originating in my penis and radiating outward. I kept thrusting into the mattress as my body spasmed. My penis seemed to be sliding over something hot and slick.

The sensations finally stopped. I lay still, gasping for breath. My heart was pounding. I realized with sudden horror that I was lying in a puddle of hot slippery fluid. For a minute, I was afraid I'd wet the bed, but this substance was nothing like urine. It was rapidly becoming thick and sticky. I turned on the light. The fluid covering my chest, crotch, thighs and finally-limp penis looked and felt like white glue.

I went into the bathroom and got a washcloth. I cleaned myself off, then went back to my bedroom and wiped as much of the stuff as possible off my sheets.

It took me a long time to fall asleep. I didn't understand exactly what had happened, but I knew my life had suddenly changed. As I remembered the intense pleasure I'd experienced, I knew that I wanted to have that sensation again and again. And I did. Every night. Usually more than once a night.

* * *

"Boys are so messy," my sister Susan remarked half teasingly as she held my sheets up, showing the stains. "What can you possibly be doing?" It was several months after I'd made my big discovery. Mom and Dad both worked, so they'd assigned a lot of the chores to us older kids. Susan and I had laundry duty that week. Susan was five years older than me and had a new boyfriend every other month.

"I must be sweating a lot," I answered, desperately hoping I wasn't blushing.

"It doesn't really seem like sweat," Susan countered. "I hope you're not sick." I had the uncomfortable feeling she knew exactly what the stains were. "Maybe we should talk to Mom and Dad about it."

"No, I feel just fine," I replied. "I think it's normal. I've seen stains like this a couple of times on Mom and Dad's sheets. They wash out all right."

"Anyway," I said, quickly trying to change the subject, "I've seen blood on your sheets. What's up with that?"

Susan stared at me for a long moment. "That's just a girl thing," she finally answered. "You'll find out about it soon enough."

"A girl thing like the little clear balloons in the foil packets you've got in your purse?" I asked innocently.

Susan dropped the sheets and took a step forward. I was sure she was going to hit me. "If you ever get into my stuff again, I'll beat you to a bloody pulp," she growled. "You're doing the laundry by yourself this week," she announced as she turned and stalked out of the room.

"That was close," I thought, resolving to find a way of bringing myself that exquisite burst of pleasure without rubbing my penis against my sheets.

Learning to stimulate myself with my hand opened up a world of opportunities. Now I could bring myself pleasure any time I had a few minutes of privacy. I took full advantage of my new-found skill.

* * *

One Friday evening a few weeks after the sheet encounter, I was putting my socks into the bathroom hamper. A pair of Susan's panties were resting on top of the other clothes. They hadn't been there a few minutes before. I stared at the panties for a long minute, then picked them up and pressed them to my face. They were slightly moist and Susan's smell was strong. My cock was already uncomfortably hard.

I locked the door, dropped my pants and shorts around my ankles and sat on the toilet lid. I continued holding the panties to my face as I began masturbating. After I'd stroked myself for a while, I got a new idea. I turned the panties inside out and started rubbing the slick white cloth of Susan's panty crotch against my erection. After a minute, I could feel my orgasm approaching. I thought I should pull away, but the sensation of fucking Susan's panties was just too exciting. I gasped and sprayed the panties' crotch with wave after wave of sticky hot boy juice.

Susan was getting ready for a date. I'd just put the violated panties back in the hamper when she rapped on the door. "Ken, is the laundry done?" she called.

"I just put the towels away," I shouted back, trying to sound nonchalant.

"How about underwear?"

"I haven't done any, yet."

"Shit!" I heard Susan mutter as she walked away.

I finished cleaning myself off and left the bathroom. Twenty minutes later, I was in the living room, watching TV with Mom and Dad, when Susan came downstairs. "I'm going to a movie with Kevin," she announced. "I'll be home before eleven."

Susan gave Mom and Dad quick pecks on the lips. She paused briefly in front of me. I got the strong feeling she was contemplating punching me out. "Good night, Ken," was all she said. No kiss for me.

"I'm so glad you get along with your sister," Dad said after Susan had left. For an instant, Mom looked like she was going to crack up, but she recovered quickly and nodded agreement.

A couple of minutes later, Mom yawned extravagantly and said, "This is a boring show. I think I'm going to turn in early. Good night, Ken." She got up and left the room, brushing Dad's knee in the process.

"I'm kind of sleepy, myself," Dad said. "I guess I'll go to bed, too." He got up quickly and followed Mom out of the room.

They were right. It was a boring show. I decided to go upstairs and spend some quality time with my right hand. On the way to my bedroom, I checked the hamper. Susan's panties were gone. All her panties must have been in the laundry because there were none in her dresser. I realized she must have put the used ones back on.

* * *

One Saturday afternoon when I was nine, my friend Ralph called and asked if I could go to the movies. Mom and Dad were in their bedroom with the door closed. Without thinking, I opened the door and walked into the room.

Mom and Dad were both naked on the bed. Mom was smiling sweetly. Dad had an expression on his face resembling a satyr in my Greek mythology book. She was lying on her back with her legs spread and her knees up. He was kneeling between her thighs.

Our family wasn't particularly shy about nudity. I'd seen Mom and Dad naked numerous times, but I'd never seen them like this. Mom's nipples were hard and swollen and the dark areas around them were puffed into almost-perfect hemispheres. Dad's penis was startling. It was sticking straight out from his crotch and it was incredibly long and thick.

They hadn't noticed me yet. Dad positioned his penis between Mom's legs and pushed forward. Mom moaned softly. "I love the way it feels when you slide it into me," Mom whispered.

"What are you doing?" I asked. Dad's head snapped up. Mom didn't move, but her eyes widened.

Mom and Dad exchanged glances. "It's just something married people do," Mom answered.

"I'll explain it to you later," Dad said. "What do you want?"

"Can I go to the movies with Billy?" I asked.

"Sure," Dad said. "Now, please close the door on your way out."

As I was leaving, I heard Mom say, "It's time to fix the lock on the bedroom door." She sounded amused, rather than angry.

"Do you want me to do it right now?" I heard Dad ask as I was closing the door.

"Of course not," Mom giggled. "You know what I want right now," she continued in a husky whisper. As I was walking away I heard her start screaming softly. I froze for an instant, listening intently. It was obviously not a scream of pain. I continued on, marveling at my glimpse into the mysterious secret world of grown-ups.

After supper that evening, Dad took me aside. In my later teens, I heard a joke. An obviously embarrassed father tells his son "We need to talk about sex." The son replies, "Sure, Dad. What do you want to know?" Dad wasn't embarrassed or nervous. He simply told me that he and Mom had been having sex, which is a way men and women make each other feel good and which occasionally produces babies. We agreed to defer the technical details until I was older.

* * *

A few months after I'd discovered my penis's new capabilities, Mom told me to go up into the attic and bring down some boxes of old clothes to give to the Salvation Army. We lived in an old two story farmhouse with a basement and a real attic, a big open room with a rough wood floor and exposed wall and ceiling beams, occupying the top floor of the house.

The attic stairs were behind a creaky door at the back of the house. I closed the door behind me before I climbed the stairs. It was hot and airless in the attic, so I opened the front and back windows. I spent a few minutes locating the boxes of clothes as the room cooled down. Then I pulled my pants down and sat on an old sofa. I played with my penis until I squirted hot white stuff into an old rag.

As I was stacking the clothes boxes at the top of the stairs, I realized that Mom would probably find something else for me to do if I finished this task too quickly. I started looking through the other boxes.

One box was full of old books with strange titles and authors whose names I'd never heard. The first one that caught my attention was "Naked Lunch" by William Burroughs. I thumbed through it eagerly, but it seemed to be mostly about heroin. I dropped it in disgust. Another book was "Tropic of Cancer." I decided it was about medicine or geography and put it aside without opening it.

The next book slipped out of my hands and fell open on the floor. My eye fell on a paragraph as I bent down to retrieve it. It was about sex. I read that page, then skipped around, reading random selections. The language was elaborate and confusing, but the whole book was obviously about sex. Lots of sex. I looked at the title. "Tropic of Capricorn" by Henry Miller. He'd also written "Tropic of Cancer." I decided to sneak those two books to my room for future reading.

The bottom of the box yielded a more obvious treasure. "The Joy of Sex" by Alex Comfort. It had clear instructions for doing all sorts of sexual things, with drawings of men and women doing those things. The text and illustrations made me so horny that I beat off three times in a row.

The next thing I found in the box was a little brass pipe with a wooden handle and a screen in the bowel. Although I'd never seen anything exactly like it, I knew it had to be for smoking marijuana.

There was a big flat envelope containing Poloroid pictures of Mom, Dad and their friends. They were all naked. Mom and Dad appeared to be in their early 20's. I recognized one couple. They lived a few hundred miles away and Mom and Dad visited them two or three times a year. In some of the photos, Dad's penis was erect and Mom's breasts were puffed, the same way I'd seen Mom and Dad when I'd walked in on them having sex when I was nine.

The most amazing find was a wooden box holding a large rubber penis. I was staring at it when the door at the foot of the attic stairs creaked open. "Ken, what are you doing?" Mom called. "You've been up there for an hour."

"I've been looking at Dad's old Tom Swift books," I answered, trying to keep my voice normal as I rushed to hide my discoveries in an old dresser. "I've got the boxes ready. I'll bring them down in a minute."

Mom didn't come up the stairs, so I took the time to put everything except "The Joy of Sex" back into the box and stored the box back in its original location. After I'd moved the clothes boxes down to the garage, I closed the attic windows and hid "The Joy of Sex" in my room.

* * *

"Want to see something really cool?" Ralph asked.

It was the week after I'd found the stuff in the attic. Ralph and I were sitting on the bench seat from an old pickup in the hayloft of the barn behind his parent's house. Suburban sprawl had invaded the old farm's land and the barn was a disused relic of the rural past. The hayloft was a nice private space where twelve-year-old boys like Ralph and me could hide out and talk about important matters, such as our burgeoning sexuality.

Without waiting for my assent, Ralph got up and retrieved an object from the secret hiding place under a loose floorboard. "I found this in the street yesterday," he said as he handed it to me.

It was a thick magazine, printed on glossy paper. The title "The Illustrated Encyclopedia of Human Sexuality" was superimposed over a black and white photograph of a man and woman's faces with their mouths open and the tips of their tongues touching.

The magazine had either been carelessly lost or hastily discarded. It was slightly crumpled and there was a tire track across the cover. I guessed that it had been run over before Ralph found it.

The text, credited to "S. Richard Broadman, Ph.D.," was a fairly detailed dissertation on male-female sexuality, discussing anatomy, psychology and giving detailed descriptions of wide range of sex acts and techniques.

I didn't spend much time on the words, though. It was the pictures that grabbed my attention.

There were close-ups of erect penises and open vaginas. Some of the close-ups in the "anatomy" section were labeled, introducing me to a large number of new terms: "urethra, glans, foreskin, shaft, scrotum, labia and clitoris."

Most of the pictures were educational in a different way. They were simply very explicit photos of men and women having sex. Women were stroking, licking and sucking penises. Men were sticking their tongues and fingers into open vaginas and licking clitorises. There were some disgusting shots of men licking women's assholes. There were pictures of men and women fucking in every possible position, often in groups.  There were lots of photos of women stimulating each other while men fucked them. There were disturbingly arousing pictures of women getting ass fucked.

In one series, a woman sucked a man's cock while two more men fucked her vagina and anus simultaneously. The final pages featured a woman sticking a strapped-on dildo up a man's butt while he fucked another woman.

My penis was painfully swollen. When I glanced over at Ralph, I saw that he had a similar bulge in his pants. I was wondering what to say when we heard his mother calling, "Ralph, it's time for supper."

Ralph quickly put the magazine back in its hiding place and we scrambled down the ladder. It was growing dark, so I stopped behind the barn and jacked off before going home.

I wanted to spend a lot more time with "The Illustrated Encyclopedia of Human Sexuality," but Ralph and his parents left on a three week vacation the next day. His dad locked the barn, making the magazine inaccessible.

Oh well. I still had "The Joy of Sex" to read.

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Copyright © 2017 by Ken James