The phone rings while I play my GameBoy. I'm totally bored out of my mind on a very quiet Monday afternoon in this summer of my twelfth year. It's my birthday at the end of summer, and I want what all thirteen-year old boys want - game cartridges. No! Not actually. For what I want, more than anything this summer, is my first real boyfriend and my first real love. Hi, I'm Sam and you've read about me here on Johnie as I make my clumsy, faltering way to share my heart with Keith, who's eighteen and gorgeous and sexy and all that I want.

'Sam, can you stand a quick visit?' It's Keith's voice on the phone. My heart goes thump when I recognize it's Keith. And it goes double-thump when he asks me the question I'm too shy to ask him.

'I finished my paint job for the morning early,' Keith continues. 'And I got an hour to spare before I start the next one. You up to a visit?'

Sam's up to a visit, for sure. Lil Sam perks up in my pants in an instant as I listen to Keith. 'Sure,' I stammer into the phone, my voice soaring up the scale into a squeak as I speak. For the last year or so I have no more control over my voice than I do over my Grade VII stiffies. 'When?' I say as my voice dives for the bass end of things. Keith must think there's two of us speaking to him, not one boy with a changing voice. My throat is suddenly dry and that doesn't help my voice work properly.

'Be there in fifteen minutes,' Keith responds. 'Love ya, sweetie.'

Electronic games totally forgotten now, I sit on my front porch and wait for Keith. It's the same chair I sat in the day I fell in love with Keith two minutes after he arrived to see my mother about painting the house. This is just right that he calls me out of the blue. For we parted last night without making another date. Stupid Sam forgot to ask Keith when next I would see him, or even talk to him. We spent most of the weekend together since he painted my house last Friday. Saturday night we spent at the park on rollerblades. Sunday we rode bikes in the mountains, then we had dinner at his house and a massive cuddle on his sofa. We shared a shower and Keith dressed me. I got an awesome look at his danglers, even touched them with my soapy hands in the shower. His danglers and my hands are getting to be good friends. Then Keith rode me home last night and stupid Sam forgot to ask for a next date. Or did I not really forget but, out of fear that he won't want to see me again, I didn't ask the question? This love thing is awfully difficult for one as young as me.

Now my mind soars with happiness at Keith's call. And, didn't he say "love ya, sweetie" at the end of his call? Lil Sam goes somewhere weird inside my tighty-whities and I poke my Monday afternoon woodie into a comfortable spot. I have a guilty flash as I do this, for last night as I showered before bed, Lil Sam demanded attention that I'd denied him all weekend. He couldn't wait any more and once I touched him we didn't stop until I popped my nut, even as I fantasized that Keith stood with me in the shower, doing wonderful things to my body. Yet it wasn't Keith, was it, who bust my nut? It was Sam doing the naughty to himself. Now I kinda feel like Travis does when we rub and tug and he gives me the guilty look after we pop our nuts.

'Hi Sam,' Keith says to me as he steps out of the battered van with the "Student Painters" sign on the side and a ladder on the top. His eyes flash at me and they blot out the sun for a moment.

'Hi Keith,' I squeak back at him and run down the steps towards him. I want so much to hug him but I punch his arm instead. He lightly punches me back.

We walk inside my front door and I lock it then turn towards Keith. I don't have to ask him and I leap into his arms and lock my legs round his waist as he grabs my bum to support me. I lock my arms round his shoulders and pull his chest tight against mine. He doesn't have to ask and my lips open as his approach mine. I dive for his tonsils before he can get at mine and we kiss. He smells of sweat and paint, a wonderful mixture that burns into my memory. My stiffie presses into Keith's belly, but it's at home there now. Seems to have spent the last three days buried into his belly. I feel Keith's Monday afternoon woodie poke against my bum, but it's at home there now. Seems to have spent the last three days poking against some part of me.

We break for air and Keith grins at me: 'I could use a drink, lil buddy. Got a Coke?'

'Sure,' I grin back at him, slightly alarmed that I forgot to be hospitable. We walk hand in hand to the kitchen, for Keith knows the way from painting the house. His hand is just as warm and strong as I remember. I hand Keith a can and he pops the tab and sucks back half the can in one gulp. I reach for the can and take a small sip then hand it back to him. We don't wipe off the rim any more, haven't done so since Saturday night when we shared a drink at the park while rollerblading. After you kiss a boy and share his spit, why wipe off the can between sips? I grin at Keith as he finishes the drink.

'Thanks,' he says. 'I needed that.'

'Don't suppose you need something else?' I respond, with naughty on my mind. 'Like taking a pee?'

'Thought you'd never ask,' he murmurs. I bet he remembers the first time I took him to pee on Friday as he painted the house. Again we walk hand in hand towards the bathroom. I'm so happy I never want to go to the bathroom again unless Keith holds my hand and brings me there.

'Wait,' I say. 'Let me do it.' I knock Keith's hand off his zipper and pull down the zip myself. I slide my fingers inside his underwear, down over his hairy belly, find and fish out his dickie. I make sure not to pinch his nuts as I tuck the elastic under them and free his dickie. It feels like an old friend in my grasp. It is not fully hard and not fully soft either. Any stiffer and I'd have trouble aiming it down into the toilet, for sure. I know enough not to forcibly bend a stiffie, like a morning boner. That's when ya gotta pee into the shower, hit the back wall at eye level, and pray mom never finds out!

'Let me do you, too, Sam,' he says. He easily yanks my shorts down to my knees, for they have an elastic waist, then yanks down my tighty-whities, so I'm bare-bum. Lil Sam pops out into the fresh air. I'm also half hard, but not so hard that I'm gonna have trouble peeing. Keith's fingers find my papoose and tug it back so my red-end pops out. I return the favour to him. Then we pee, side by side, legs touching, just as we did on Friday during our painting session. I could get very used to peeing beside another boy, our streams crossing and mixing in the bowl. I finish before Keith but stand still and watch him finish, my eyes intently watching the last few drops trickle out his pee-slit. Then I hit the flusher and we wash our hands. But we don't put our dangly bits away, even as we haven't said any words about what comes next. We just seem to know.

'Bring me out to the deck, Keith,' I say.

I slip my hand into Keith's and we make for the deck. Well Keith walks normally. Only his dickie sticking out his pants is different. But I waddle along. For my legs are trapped by my shorts and tighty-whities, which lie round my knees where Keith left them. It's a sort of duck-shuffle and we giggle as I try not to trip. My dangly bits swing as I walk.

'It's OK out here,' I tell Keith. 'Totally private. No one can see us.' I don't tell him that Travis and I use this deck sometimes to be naked. But he must know from what we did lying on the deck on Friday that it's pretty private here.

'Well, let's get these off you,' Keith says, picking me up with one strong arm while yanking my clothes off my legs with the other. I kick to help him and I'm bare from the waist down. Then he puts me down and yanks my T-shirt over my head. I like Keith undressing me. Bare Sam grins back at him. I don't wear shoes or socks in the house in the summer and my feet feel the sun-warmed wood of the deck.

'Now you,' I say and unsnap the waist of his jeans. His dickie hangs out the open zip, so I have no need to pull down the zip. And the waistband of his underwear is already below his nuts, where I dragged it when I freed his dickie to pee, so I don't need to pull down his underwear. A couple of shrugs of his legs and Keith's jeans and underwear join my clothes on the deck. Then I pull off his paint-spattered T-shirt and find the chest that I've come to like so much. Keith kicks off his running shoes and stands before my admiring eyes in the sunshine, bare except for his white socks. I see his left nut hangs lower than the right one. I like undressing Keith.

'It's my turn to pull off your socks,' I squeak up and down the scale, remembering how Keith whipped off my socks over my pretend squeals of resistance as we lay on the grass Saturday night on our rollerblading date. Keith sits his bare bum on the deck and extends his legs. I whip off his socks as he waves his legs and pretends not to want me to do it. I never knew taking socks off could be so much fun until Keith did me on our date. By the time I drop his socks on top of our clothes I'm stiff and I see that Keith is stiff too. We both have Monday afternoon woodies.

'Come lie beside me,' Keith calls out as he sits on the deck and leans his back against the wall of the house, his legs stuck out flat in front of him. I drop beside him, stretch out and wriggle so my head lies on his thighs and I'm at right angles to his legs. His thighs make an excellent pillow for my head. I feel the fuzzies on his legs rub against the fuzzies on the back of my head. I turn my head slightly towards him and my ear rests on top of his bag. I see his stiffie tower above my face, and see his chest and face above that. There's an enormous grin on his face and I suppose I grin back at him.

Keith reaches for my woodie and my eyes turn to follow him. I groan at his first touch on my sensitive parts. His fingers are warm and soft as they grasp my woodie. I lean up and look down my body as he slips one fingertip inside my papoose and rolls it between another finger. Feels marvellous. Then he tugs my papoose down my woodie until it can't slide any further. Back up again to cover my red-end and his waiting finger and he rolls my papoose again between two fingers. Feels even better now.

'Do me too, Sam' Keith whispers.

I reach across my chest for his stiffie with my right hand. It's so warm and hard to my grasp. Big too, when compared to my tiny one. Way longer and way fatter. I grab it with all my fingers and there's still part of his woodie that I can't cover with only one hand. I return the favour of rolling his papoose between two fingers, one inside and one outside. If it feels so good to me it must feel good to him. I close my eyes to enjoy the sensations. Doing it for real is way better than imagining it in the shower.

'Try it this way,' I mutter. And I hold his papoose in three fingers, with his red-end inside, and twist my fingers back and forth. He gasps at the new feeling. I feel him return the favour to my woodie and it's my turn to gasp. And I feel that old familiar tickle build deep inside my nuts. This is way, way better than dreaming in the shower.

'Try this one, Sam,' Keith says. I feel him pull my papoose back and I feel the air on my red-end, which is all wet with my juices. Then he gently rubs a finger across my pee-slit and hits a spot right at the base of my pee-slit. Travis and I know that spot. You must know it too. I give a huge squawk of pleasure and my hips lift off the deck automatically as I try to shove my sensitive spot harder against Keith's finger. I find the same spot on Keith and he squawks. I feel his thigh muscles tighten under my head as the joy hits him. This is way, way better than dreaming in the shower.

We get it on for a couple of minutes, rubbing and tugging on each other, teaching a new way then repeating the move on the other guy. That's the way it should be, I realize as we do this, all easy and relaxed, all in good time and no rush, sharing joy and giggles. I could lie out here all afternoon, my head on Keith's thighs, his woodie in my hand, my woodie in his hand, as happiness flows between us. I open one eye a couple of times and see that Keith's eyes are shut tight as we share the fun.

Then Keith stops. Stops moving his hand on my woodie. Let's go of it, too. It's beyond cruel. I squeak at him in total frustration: 'Keith, don't stop. Don't you know that stopping can kill a guy?' And I release his woodie as my little retaliation.

'Don't worry, sweetie,' Keith says in a soothing voice. 'Roll over and come lie on top of me.'

This sounds good. We wriggle into the new position without smashing any major organs. Keith ends up flat on his back on the deck, legs open, with my legs between his. I'm face down on top. Our chests touch, so do our bellies. I'm shorter than Keith so my nose ends up on his chin, his nose between my eyes. My nose feels the rough stubble on his chin. And down below our two stiffies rest between two warm bellies. Feels even better than what we just did with hands. Full body contact, I realize, is good. For Travis and I never do this when we play. And the cuddle Keith and I had yesterday after dinner was with clothes on, even if we knew the other had a serious woodie. Now there's nothing between our bodies, and that's the way it should be. It's my first time, and I want more.

Keith pushes his hips up off the deck and lifts me into the air. I squeal with the feeling in my stiffie as it slips about between our bellies. Then I push down with my light weight and Keith's hips hit the deck. He hoists me into the air again. We get it on for a belly-rub. He doesn't have to tell me how to do it, even if it's my first time. Sorta instinctive really, I just do what feels nice. But I threaten to roll off him and Keith locks his arms round my back to hold me in place. His hands end up on my bum, one per cheek. That starts a new feeling, for no one has held my bum like this before. Every time I push down against him, I feel his fingers clutch my tense bum muscles. It's a wonderful feeling.

The tickle begins again in my balls. The tickle that had vanished into disappointment and frustration when Keith had suddenly stopped stroking my stiffie. Didn't take it too long to come back either, and I forgive Keith for that mean trick of stopping his hand and nearly killing me. I wriggle my thin arms underneath Keith's big shoulders as we roll about on the deck and tug our bodies closer together. Helps to hold me on top of Keith, too, so I don't fall off as we thrash about. This is lots of fun. And if Keith's gonna teach me all about making love, bring on the lessons!

We roll about and mash our bodies together. Someone huffs and puffs quite loudly, then I realize it's me. The tickle in my balls gets larger and larger with each roll of our bodies, and I know soon I can't stop it and my nut will pop. I want this to last forever, to lie here on top of my lover and share the joys of our bodies, yet I want to pop my nut for my first time in his arms. I don't know at this time, for I'm too new at this stuff, but Keith patiently waits for me, enjoying every minute of my first time, yet delaying his big moment until I'm ready. I'm way beyond where I was last night in the shower. Way beyond anywhere I've been with Travis. Way beyond anywhere I've been with my own right hand. Love has got to be the new thing that makes it so much better.

My nut pops, big time! I feel it in my whole body, as I shake all over against Keith's warm body beneath me. Shakes me from my toes to my head and everywhere in between. My mind soars out there above the deck and into the sky, higher than it's ever soared before. I hear Keith moan and his body shudders under me and I get a totally new feeling. Something warm floods between our bellies. It's been hot down there since we started rubbing bellies. But this feels much hotter and I distinctly feel the extra heat. I still enjoy the feelings of busting my nut as my mind dimly registers this new thing. Whatever it is, it spreads quickly between our bellies and makes my skin feel wet and slippery. I love this new feeling.

Keith still holds my bum in his hands, presses me tight against his belly, but we stop moving. The feeling of popping my nut is just about gone, but the feeling of cuddling against Keith has not gone. And I'm so happy to lie here in his strong arms and against his warm body. It's great to be loved. Before I know it, I'm fast asleep.

'Sam, wakey-wakey,' Keith whispers.

I'm lost for a second as I wake up. Then I realize where I am, and what we just did, and that was only one minute ago. For I've been asleep as I've never slept before, cradled in a lover's arms, tired out from busting our nuts. I get fully awake, and realize that I don't ever want to move from where I lie. I could just close my eyes and go back for a second sleep.

'Sam, please wake up,' Keith continues, and lifts me gently into the air on his rising hips. 'I gotta go to work soon. Like five minutes ago.'

I lift my face off his face and look into his eyes. Happy, smiling eyes look back at me, not at all like sheep's eyes, not a trace of guilt in them, not at all like Travis. Sam knows he's found a new home here in Keith's arms.

'How long have I been asleep?' I ask Keith.

'Fifteen minutes, or so,' he replies. 'I enjoy you sleeping on my chest and I didn't want to wake you. But I really gotta go.'

'Wow!' I exclaim. 'So long, eh? But it was good, every minute of it.'

'Sam,' Keith says. 'The cuddle after sex is often the best part.' I nod my understanding. And do I ever want more of these cuddles!

I push up on my arms and try to slide my knees up to Keith's hips so I can rise. But our bellies seem stuck together something fierce. Can't be sweat, can it? I look down as I pull upwards with my body against our stuck bellies and watch the skin as we peel apart. We really are stuck together and I move gently so as not to rip anything. I see white blotches on both our bellies, drying and very sticky. This has gotta be what I think it is, that hot stuff that Keith squirted when his nut popped. Stuff that Travis and I can't yet make, even as we wish we can.

'Sorry,' Keith mutters as he peers along his chest to see what I see. 'We're kinda stuck together. Looks like I squirted lots. I must love you.'

'I don't mind,' I say. 'I love it. And I love you, too.' The last bit of stuck belly pops free and I rise above Keith, grinning down at my sweetie. Both of us are soft and my dickie dangles down towards Keith. His softie lies curled up on his belly, quite tiny compared to his stiffie, nestled in his bush of hair.

'I love you, Sam,' Keith says to me, with a grin on his face.

We stand by the van. I want to kiss my sweetie goodbye, but I punch his arm instead. He gently punches me back. Then he climbs in and I lean into the window for a final few words.

'There's more, isn't there, Keith,' I say to my sweetie. 'That boys do with boys and not do with girls?'

'Sure there's more, Sam,' Keith replies to my earnest question.

'And you're gonna show me, aren't you?' I question my new love. And my secret, unspoken question to Keith is: 'You will see me again, won't you?' For Sam still doubts, still fears.

'For sure, Sam,' Keith reassures me. Mebbe he knows my unspoken fear? 'Starting tomorrow and for the rest of our lives.'

The battered van disappears down the street, Keith's arm waving out the window. Grateful, happy Sam stands on the sidewalk, waving madly at the van, knowing that it's gonna return.

End of Monday Afternoon Woodie

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