Wellington Napoleon Dowd - 2. Chapter 2 - Sudden Maturity

Chapter 2: Sudden maturity

As I have no doubt mentioned, I was a scrawny, underdeveloped youth far longer than my peers. Entering tenth grade I weighed in at 110 pounds and stood barely over five feet two. Combining my unprepossessing frame with a wardrobe from the early part of the previous century, “we Dowd’s have standards beyond the common herd” or so the family mantra ran, left me as the kid most likely to be pushed around. Waiting for maturity is a long business.

I already despaired of puberty ever beginning. And then it came in a tumble. I had seen classmates go through growth spurts, but I was utterly unprepared for the changes that overtook my body. It started after school had ended for the year. A blessing since I remained in the cocoon of the family manse, secreted from the world. One week it was feet and hands, the next legs and arms. My ears and nose expanded as in a cartoon. And my voice, from soprano to basso profundo and back again from hour to hour.

Then the greatest miracle of all. I had spent one evening in desperate masturbation, my suddenly giant hands mauling the tiny prick unchanged from earliest childhood. Yes, it gave a certain satisfaction, even without the much promised ejaculation uncomfortably mentioned in health class. I admit I lusted for more than the developing bodies of the physically older boys in gym class. Pendulous genitals couched in the fur of maturity raised both jealousy and desire in me. Inadequacy fueled my shame. Yet suddenly, there it was or rather they were. I awoke to a heated, throbbing rod straining to reach my chest. My legs were splayed, pushed apart by a differently warm weight lying heavily on the bed. My hands ranged over these foreign appendages seeking to prove that they indeed belonged to me. Oh joy. It was as if some long dormant creature had emerged, in toto, from hiding within my body, yet they were mine. I raced, loped really on barely formed legs and feet, to the bathroom to confirm the revelation. A different person stared back at me. This one, still clearly in process of becoming, was tall with pronounced muscle, interestingly handsome of face, shadowed with emerging hair, but best of all proudly ornamented with a man’s greatest possession.

What a variety of pleasures this new toy presented: long, languid sessions of caresses culminating in a soul searing climax, frantic violent pounding producing immediate release, self contests to determine how quickly, how frequently, how far, how much volume orgasms could achieve. At last it was mine, just in time for the next school year.