Confounded: Part III - 9. Interlude

--==Tom’s POV==--

Chuckling, I imagined Mitch sitting there on the edge of the pool, steam coming out of his ears, probably thinking that the water he’d just been in had once been sullied with horndog jizz from a couple of very randy boys. Which would actually be true; we had done some creative things in that pool, Kit and me. Ah, good memories.

I remember experimenting, in those days. Well, those and days from much longer ago.

**********

I was 13 when I woke up one night with the oddest of sensations in my groin. It pulsed down there. My flesh was hard and I felt amazingly good and strangely relaxed. Right before waking up, I’d had an erotic dream; my first. I also remember the imagery of the dream to this day, because it’s a scene many on Earth know; Tom Cruise sliding his tongue inside Kelly McGillis’s mouth. I didn’t know that was how you were supposed to kiss. I’d watched Top Gun with a friend over at his house and that scene had made quite an impact. I had learned something momentous just then and I thought of little else after seeing that. My teenage mind was overloading.

Anyway, waking up after that vivid dream I didn’t move at first but I knew what had happened. I was a smart kid, I was aware of changes my body was going through. Sparse hair had begun growing in my armpits and my junk was growing bigger. I didn’t shave, not yet, but I had used my dad’s razor to remove hairs from my chin. I had already read up on this thing called puberty; knew what was coming. I had just had my first wet dream. I’d had erections before of course and sometimes played but those died down quick; but I’d never spilled seed before. My heart was beating rapidly and I felt strange.

I lay still in the dark, unsure what to do. Then I pushed my hand into my undies to check, confirming I’d had ejaculate, my fingers coming back slick and sticky. I flicked on the light, then checked out my fingers, glistening in the soft illumination. Then I smelled them, curious. It was supposed to smell bleachy, I remembered reading that, and it was true, though not like the bleach my mom used to clean stuff. A more bland variation. I had also read that it tasted sweet and salty, so I stuck my fingers in my mouth and sucked them clean. It wasn’t bad at all, a bit peculiar but definitely not bad. Sliding my hand back in my undies, I bit my bottom lip, my breath hitching. The tip of my penis was still very sensitive, though the erection was fading. It felt very nice. My undies were soaked but instead of getting up, washing, and changing, I rubbed myself, gently at first, then firmer as I explored. I coated my dick and balls with the stuff, sliding through my undies and making a mess really, but god, that felt very good. I kept smelling my hand, each time it smelled better and better to me. I also tasted more of it. I knew it was protein and it was my own so I wasn’t averse. And now I also knew why some people, as I’d read, liked the taste of it. I guess I was one of them.

Once done exploring I did go wash up and change, then went back to sleep, hoping for a continuance of that dream. That didn't happen but I was hard again in the morning and I checked it out in my own sweet time. Throwing the duvet back, I looked at my cock as I held it, very consciously for the first time. I was fascinated that it grew so hard and felt so soft and I was curious to see the seed come out. I figured out quickly that licking my hand, making it wet, made stroking easier. It felt good, too. I used my other hand to fondle my balls. All these sensations opened a new world for me. I overstimulated myself very quickly and seconds later I shouted out involuntarily as I shot. There was this onrushing pressure and then wonderful release but unfortunately my eyes closed as I came and I missed seeing it. My body jerked, my hand became uncontrolled and I felt it splash on different parts of my stomach and chest. When I opened my eyes, I stared at the result. Breathing hard, I winced when I squeezed myself and stroked up. Then I saw it coming from the tip and slowly dripping down over my fingers.

“Oooh,” I shuddered, my breath hitching again, “ooooh…” Man, that felt nice.

I spread it out over my stomach and chest, enjoying the smell, the taste, and coming down from that high. Wow, I guess I would be doing this quite a lot. Now I knew why Jay had begun locking his door and spending lots of time in his room. He was probably hunched over a speeding fist most of the time he was in there. And now, I would be in here for the foreseeable future. That much was clear to me.

**********

I spent the weeks and months following that first night experimenting. I learned quickly, for instance, that I should muffle my sounds. I tended to shout because it felt so good but that also alerted people. My dad once came crashing into my room and I was barely able to hide my naked body under the duvet. Another time, one of my sisters came to check if everything was alright. After that, I also locked my door.

The pillow was fine for the screaming part and I became a happy jerker. At first I did it only in bed, but after a while I began doing it in the shower, which was way better; it went down the drain and no cleaning up with tissues. My aim improved, as did my stamina, while I learned the ins and outs of extending my pleasure and teasing myself. My nipples were wonderful little turn ons. I knew exactly where to press, pinch and tease, how to fondle my balls and do it just right to delay, longer and longer, bringing myself to the cusp, then holding off on finishing. I learned other things of course. I learned that overdoing it would make Funstick (yes, I named my dick) sore, so I learned to do it less often and when to quit for a while. I discovered lotion and with it, I learned something else. I used too much on one of my first times using it, and it trickled down Funstick and over my balls, down toward my hole. Not wanting to get any in the sheets, I caught it and thought ‘Hmm…now what happens if I…’ and ‘Yes!!’ I discovered my anus as a tool in the ‘Toolshed of Masturbation’ that day, and what an awesome tool it was!

The first time I explored my anus with my finger, it was slippery with the help of lotion. That felt very nice, just circling, slipping around, pressing on my hole, teasing my sphincter. Of course it didn’t take long before that teasing became entering. Awww man! Funstick upgraded to Joystick in two seconds flat. So fingering became a thing. Of course it wasn’t enough. Fingers don’t go far enough, or at least mine didn’t. I did try two fingers, which was strange but no less enjoyable. I liked the sensation. It also caused my penis to start leaking, as if anticipating or preparing for Joystick to make an appearance. Three fingers was almost impossible to reach so what does a fresh horndog boy do? He looks for more tools.

A pencil was my first victim. It wasn’t nice. It was barely noticeable and when I pushed it in a bit too far, the jab of pain made it an effort not worth repeating. I didn’t even touch my hole for a few days after that. It also wasn’t nice when it came out; oh yucky bah. But, boys will be boys. I assumed all my fellow contemporaries were up to these shenanigans. I returned to my efforts soon enough and found out that lube worked even better (swiped it from Jay's room, one day), discovering that when it’s nice and slick, things will disappear up your butt faster than a credit card in a Vegas slot machine. I needed other items though; thicker, more blunt, not so sharp. Another penis didn’t enter my thoughts yet. Quite strange that it didn’t, considering what I know now, but there I was, all alone and innocent. Okay, maybe not so innocent. So I went looking. Several items passed my first inspections and trials; a round BIC lighter (too short, and sharp edges), a ribbed handle of something I don’t remember, some oval shaped items, and do you remember those wooden sticks in a toilet paper dispenser? Nope, I didn’t like that either, not smooth enough. Ah, but then I discovered the porcelain ones in a restaurant and stole one. Good toy for beginners!

Next up was the deep-clean. I really did not like items coming back brown all the time, so I looked into that. I tried several different things; it’s amazing what young boys can come up with. The very first attempt was with the hand-held shower head but no matter how high I turned up the pressure, it just wouldn’t do the trick; the water didn’t go in there. It did feel fun, though.

Not to be deterred, I tried my next great idea: why not take that shower head off, the whole contraption, and just use the hose? Better, I’ll admit, and not entirely unpleasant. That is when I figured out that cold water is not the way to go, nor is turning on the tap to full pressure. I ended up having a blowout of all things icky drippin’ down the tiles. Alrightty then! Lukewarm water was good; check. No need for much pressure: check. Use some Vaseline for easier entry; check (lube and water don’t really mix, it just washes off right away). Mmk. Ready, set, go.

Oh, that was amazing. Impractical as all hell, true, you’re basically stuck to the wall but I got it working! I walked around with a clean ass that day and man, that was something!

Up went the porcelain thingamabob, and yowza, that came back nice and clean. I almost fucked myself into a stupor with that thing. I loved the smoothness but size wise it left me wanting.

Then, one day, I was passing a bowl of fruit in the dining room and there were bananas there. I stopped in my tracks and actually did a double take. Just imagine a boy who, on the cusp of many possibilities and going for the more depraved ones, steals a glance around to see that no one guesses what he’s up to. Then, taking another look at the shape, and that little lightbulb above his head turns on. What is it that they say? Young, dumb and full of cum? Oh yeah, that was me and yeah, I found my new tool. Perfect shape for what I was looking for, figuring that curve would make it so much easier for me to reach. I scored one and I remember my mom smiling wide at the sight of her son finally choosing fruit. Had she known it wasn’t for consumption, she’d have turned that smile upside down in a heartbeat.

I waited until it was time to go to sleep and for once, that time couldn’t come soon enough. I felt giddy as I went upstairs and into my room, undressing so quickly I almost keeled over when taking off my socks. This was gonna be great! Chiquita was going to explore dark places.

Yeah, no…I made the mistake of peeling the damn thing. It didn’t even enter, for fuck sake! I squashed that thing with enthusiasm on my hole, thinking I’d jam it up there and ended up with mashed banana all over my poop machine. Well dammit. Conundrum. Now what. Ooh! Don’t peel it. Right.

So I snuck downstairs, after waiting for what felt like forever for the parents to turn in; listening at the door, registering any sound. Yep, there went Jay, locking his door. Happy jerkeritus, dude. I feel ya. My sister Alia was already in bed and she wouldn’t get up again, Xena rarely left her room, so that left the parents. Mom always went to bed first, dad came up a little later, after checking the house. The creak of the next to last step on the stairs, a soft bump as their room door closed and I was off; opening my door as silently as I could, tiptoeing down, skipping that creaking step. By then, my banana butt was long cleaned of course, and I swiped one of its siblings, a bigger brother. The first one had been small. Not a conscious choice by the way, just an observation that kinda became clear later on because this one, ah, this one was adult size. But, come hell or high water, I had my heart set on a banana up myself that night and a banana is what I had. I took my prize back upstairs, still giddy.

That first penetration was harder than I thought; my body wasn’t having any of it. Mr. Sphincter went ‘Nuh-uh’ but the Joystick definitely went ‘Uh-huh!’; it came up with war on its mind and it was gonna fire, all guns blazing. Strafing shot, aim for the ceiling, but I knew how to grip it just below the head to ward off ejaculation, and brought my excitement down a few notches. That night I learned that slow was the way to go as I let myself get used to the invading fruit. By the third inch in, my penis blew the fireworks and my sphincter practically flattened another Chiquita, but I had my tool now. I knew what to do and over the next few weeks I practically became a fully fledged Doctor of Bananafuckery. That first meeting of banana and prostate? I almost blew through the roof, it was awesome!

Next up were lessons in positions. Doing all of this in bed was fun but there were only a few ways. On my back with my knees drawn up, to this day one of my favorites because I can watch; on all fours reaching around, not ideal; and laying on my side, meh, didn’t really like that. So I experimented, door locked, of course, and became acquainted with angles. Some were great, like just standing, bent forward, but reaching was again an issue. One foot on the sink in the bathroom; yowza, nope; didn’t like that angle, though when I turned the banana it was better. When I discovered (small) cucumbers a few weeks later, they worked great. I stepped it up gradually with sizes.

I didn’t associate any of this with my possibly being gay. I figured my brother was up to no good in the same way. Still hadn’t thought of perhaps replacing fruit and veggies with a dildo. I didn’t even know what that was yet. I just loved the feeling of fullness and stretching to accommodate; testing my limits. What I also didn’t understand then was that the more I did it, the more I needed it. Not as in needing to do it often, I did that anyway, but needing the stimulation to get hard, to get Joystick to appear. Without my fruity friends? ‘You’re the weakest link; g’bye!

In those days, the internet was booming; speeds were increasing all the time, processors got faster and faster and video quality improved almost every month. And even though my parents were shielding it with settings, I figured out how to get around those and not long after, to turn it off at will. I wasn’t the only one.

I’d barely turned fifteen, still using botanical items, when I discovered porn. Of course I knew of it by then, I just hadn’t seen any yet. Anyway, I found out that Jay watched porn on his computer at night, always with headphones on. He thought he hid it well, but I was a crafty little shit. One night, I unlocked his door from the outside and very stealthily opened it; there he was, watching a man and woman go at it, full tilt, the sound even loud with headphones on and his left hand doing the five-fingered knuckleshuffle on the old pisspump. I didn’t care about the latter, I already knew the result of that. But the stuff on the screen? Very, very interesting.

So I snuck in when he wasn’t home one day to find the downloaded files on his hard drive. He thought he was smart, marking them as hidden files; I figured that out within five minutes.

The first thing I ever watched was pretty straightforward porn. Guy, girl, horrible dialogue, no subtlety: I was appalled because it was so disconnected. So that was fucking, huh? That didn’t seem all that exciting, though apparently to Jay, it was; he had dozens of vids. I turned it off after just a few minutes of it, fastforwarding through to the end, seeing the same thing over and over but curiosity got the better of me and I chose another video. And that one was interesting; the girl used a dildo. I stared at the screen, seeing that disappear in her chihuahua and later on, a visit to her starfish. Perfect! It apparently gave her lots of pleasure and I had my epiphany. Yep, I wanted cock, I wanted it in me and yep, I was one raging homosexual.

I now had a new goal; find me one of those. It was then that I found yet another new world opening for me, one with lots of toys. Valhalla beckoned in the shape of dildo’s, available in sizes that ranged from small to enormous. Screens of fake cocks passed before my eyes, some came with suction cups! Some came with balls! Some even had both! Now that was just awesome. I wanted one and I was going to get one, no matter what!

You know what’s funny? You know how before you owned a car, you never really noticed that brand before but once you owned one yourself, you see 'em all around? I had that same thing with realizing I was gay. That being a homosexual meant you were ‘gay’. I began looking for male/male videos, and there it was, staring me in the face. Big neon letters flashing “Gay porn!”, “Get your Male on Male Action!” etc...

Lot’s of things suddenly clicked into place, not the least were things about my uncle T, my dad’s brother. He was a fun uncle, had a different hair color every time we saw him and he had somewhat feminine mannerisms; screamed like a girl at times, sat with his legs crossed like he was neutered, lots of animated waving of the hands; one knows the type. Regularly referred to as his being gay, I’d always thought they meant to say he was happy. I knew he had boyfriends, and didn't think anything of it. That was just Uncle T. I never combined that with him having sex with men.

That was very annoying. Dense as a rock. Yikes.

Downloading and watching that first gayporn video was an awesome experience. I saw two guys getting it on, kissing, taking each other's clothes off, then one going on his knees and taking the other in his mouth, and it just…yup, that’s exactly what I wanted to do. I wanted to do the kissing, have a boyfriend, fall in love and do all these things; be the one on my knees sucking his cock. And later in the video, I wanted to be the one with his legs over the guy’s shoulders, taking his Joystick balls deep in my ass.

Huh…so that was it, then, eh? I wanted that stuff? Well alright then. Let’s start by getting me one of them dildo’s then, and see if it would really feel as good as how it made those two apparently feel on the screen. If it felt half as good as my fruity friends, then yep, my goals suddenly shifted to a whole new lifestyle.

I procured my first dildo the next week, after doing research, going clear across town so as to not be found out. My first visit to a sex-toy store and amazingly, the guy behind the counter didn’t even flinch or ask for any ID or whatever. All he did was take my money and tell me to ‘have fun’.

And boy, did I ever! The first time I planted that suction cup dildo on the bathroom wall, basically embalmed myself in lube down there and got my first taste of what sex could possibly be for me? I could’ve wept with joy. Now that was a Joystick! My own agreed with me and I brought myself to an explosive conclusion, nearly blacking out with pleasure.

In the days that followed, I screwed myself into absolute oblivion with that thing.

And amazingly? No one ever found out.

**********

Snickering, I remembered those days while texting with Mitch, who’d gone quiet for a long while as I’d remembered my youth. Some feel shame when using toys; I never did. It made me feel good when the real thing was not available, and I'd rather die than go on an app because I was desperate for sex. It still does. To this day, I’ve used toys, mostly thanks to Barry, whom I’d shared my antics with and who was very much up for experimenting with them, even encouraged it. Alex was similarly encouraging. I never told Kit, though, not because I was ashamed of it; it just never came up.

I frowned at the screen of my phone. It’d been at least five minutes since Mitch had last responded. Then I closed my eyes and groaned. Dammit. Maybe I’d taken it too far…