A continuation of the Bridge Series.
On the Saturday that we moved I stood under the bridge in a howling winter wind, my legs locked stiffly in hopes of maintaining a hard-on, my hand savagely pounding my dick to a lame climax. I hated my dick, my hand, myself, the whole world -- and I didn't even give a shit that the wind whipped my sad little spurt of cum right onto the front of my pants.
Too soon it was Monday. My first day at the new school was every bit as bad as I dreaded. By stepping across the state line, we moved to a place with substantially more rigorous educational requirements. Some of my credits did not transfer, and I was missing subjects that the other kids had previously completed, some as far back as seventh grade. I was mad, embarrassed, "behind," and deprived of a satisfactory place to jerk out a load.
Despite all this. The move that I hated would give me something I had not even imagined existed: a friend as horny as me. I would discover a genuine buddy who would be my hands-on soul-mate, somebody to share my passion for pumping a stiff dick.
I'd never had PE before but was thrust into it my first day. It was a schizophrenic experience, both bad and good at the same time. Bad: I was deeply embarrassed about exposing myself while changing and showering, so self-conscious that I sometimes risked detention by skipping a shower. Good: the locker room surrounded me with naked boys for the first time in my life. I was absolutely intrigued by what was on display there, fascinated by the amazing variety of penises, testicles, and pubic hair. Not wanting to stare, I developed a technique of peeking sideways while pretending to keep my eyes on my own business. Every crotch was different and each one needed observation. Some guys still had the face and body of little boys, yet their penises were well developed and surrounded by a substantial amount of hair. Some balls hung loose, while others were tightly drawn up. Dicks were skinny, dicks were fat. Dicks were long, dicks were short. Some were curved, which led me to a conclusion: the curved dicks very likely got the kind of workouts from their owners that I subjected my dick to. Wow imagine a trend going around?
One result of what I saw in PE was that my balls gave me tingling sensations at unexpected times during the day, meaning that my dick was about to get hard and would need attention in the next few minutes. I found it necessary to disappear into restrooms between bells and take care of the problem, even though I was scared shitless by jacking off at school. But the restroom urge led immediately to an interesting discovery: No matter what toilet I went into to perform an emergency masturbation on my stiff boner, there were dried scales and rivulets of stuff on the walls, stuff that I recognized as petrified cum, from having seen so much of my own dried sperm back at the bridge.
The first time I saw blooms of sperm in a stall, I hadn't jerked in three days because there was flat-out no place safe enough to do it. My brain freaked. It's cum, I told myself. CUM! I kept repeating the idea silently, meanwhile unlimbering my alert tool. Suddenly I had the best erection I'd enjoyed in a month or more. My hand and my stiff dick molded into a coordinated pumping unit with a well-defined ejaculatory goal. The sight of the cum so aroused me that my senses and perceptions quickly peaked and I actually enjoyed jacking off again, wanking silently in a stall that others had decorated with their ejaculate, and begging fate for no one to open the door until I was through. My hand was on auto-pilot performing the hypnotizingly repetitive strokes: Jack it, jack it, jack it! While I was thumping back and forth on my nicely hard dick, I wondered about the unknown boy or boys who had already used this stall for the same purpose. What if it was one of my PE classmates, and I'd seen his dick in the locker room!
It was a good multi-spurt climax, an ejaculation to be proud of. And it gave me hope that I could resurrect the thrill of masturbating. Above all, it helped me discipline myself from punishing my dick, teaching me that waiting two or three days between jerks would pay off in enhanced pleasure. I paced myself to an every-other-day masturbation schedule, letting my fertile imagination combine the dicks from PE and the cum from the partitions and weave outlandish fantasies in my head as I stood feeling the old sensations again. Against all my expectations I was enjoying at least one thing about my new school, my amped-up jerking life. I got confident enough to begin depositing my ejaculate on the walls instead of in the toilet, adding another layer to the history that previous dicks had already written there.
PE continued to fuel me and make me horny. Some of the boys in the locker room went out of their way to show off, walking to and from the shower with no towel wrapped around them. Most of us were lowly ninth-graders, but there were a number of upper-class jocks working as the coach's assistants. The older boys paraded their well-developed crotches as a way of intimidating us.
A watershed incident happened several weeks into the class. One day there was a commotion at the far end of the lockers. A glance past all the naked butts and crotches showed that one of the jocks had sprouted an erection. His dick stuck straight out in front of him as he headed for the showers. The boner was not particularly long, but it was stiffly horizontal. One of his friends ran over and hung a towel on it. The older guys laughed. One told him he'd better "get some" pretty quick. Another told him he wasn't jerking enough. I kept an eye on him for days after that, but his dick behaved itself as far as I could tell, and except for what his one moment of hardness prompted between me and Danny, he doesn't have anything to do with the rest of the story.
I guess I haven't mentioned Danny's name yet, kind of keeping him under wraps. We became total dick-buddies almost overnight thanks to the jock getting hard. Danny was a skinny kid with red hair who shared several classes with me and had a PE locker close to mine. What caught my attention about him on my first day in PE was the fact that the bush around his dick was as red as the hair on his head, something that had never occurred to me. It was like a frizzly orange wreath framing his dick. And the dick itself was unusual, the only uncircumcised penis in the class. I vaguely knew that his dickhead was hidden inside his peculiar sheath, which extended down to a tight nipple of wrinkled skin. The way Danny's odd dick hung in front of his balls made me think of an elephant's trunk.
End of part 3