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From: billyboiiiiiii@yahoo.com (bill johnson)
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Subject: {ASSM} Tim's New Neighbor, Part 2 (b, mast)
Date: Sat, 29 Dec 2001 20:10:06 -0500
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This is not intended for anyone 17 or under. It contains some sexually
explicit material.  In a departure from my previous series, "The
Adventures of Tim and John", I decided to forget the blanks and use
the terms.

Part 2

During the next few weeks Joey stuck to me like glue.  He came out to
wait for the bus at the same time I did. He sat next to me on the bus
every day, and stayed right with me the whole day.  A lot of guys
would've probably gotten tired of it, but it was alright with me.  I
had always been a follower, but Joey made me the leader.  He always
did what I wanted to do, and talked about what I wanted to talk about.

With John  (my old friend who moved away) I had a different role. He
always took the lead, and I usually followed.  Everything was done at
his suggestion, and I would just go along most of the time. Having
Joey as a friend helped to transform my personality, from follower to
leader...from reactor to actor...from unsure to confident...from shaky to
steady...from the one who acquiesces to the one who initiates.

Several times during those first few weeks I invited Joey over to play
video games, but the answer was always the same, "We are still busy
moving in."  I'm sure they were. It was a big house, and that moving
van had a lot of stuff on it.

The Friday morning after Valentine's Day he came out of his house with
unusual exuberance. He said, "I can come over today. We finished
getting all of our things organized.  My parents had something for me
to do every day since we moved in.  Last night they told me that I had
earned some free time.  I asked if I could visit with you for the
evening, and they approved, as long as it suited you and your
parents."

"It'll be OK with them.  They like for me to have friends over, and
they ain`t got nothing planned for tonight."  Finally, a video game
partner! It was really boring playing that WWF video game by myself.
The 'One Player' option wasn't much fun. The last time I had a friend
over was before Thanksgiving, when John stayed overnight.
  
The bus took us to school, and we went through the day.  As usual, he
stayed right with me.  He didn't have any friends at school except me.
I didn't mind, though.  I was soaking up the attention and the feeling
of being admired and looked up to.

He went through his same daily routines.  In the boy's bathroom, he
went into a stall and latched the door to pee. He did not use the
urinals like me and the rest of the boys. I still never commented,
though. I thought he was just shy. He always thoroughly washed his
hands afterwards.

When the bus let us off, he said, "I will call you and let you know if
I am allowed to come over.  My mother was going to call your mother
today to find out if it suited her.  If so, I will come over after I
change from my school clothes into my ordinary clothes."

"OK, I'll be waiting. See ya then!"  Ordinary clothes?  What's this
about ordinary clothes?

The phone rang about 5 minutes after I walked into the house.  I
answered on the first ring.

"Your mother said that I was welcome anytime, just as you said..  She
also invited me to stay for dinner.  I do not have to be home until
9:30."

"Great! Come on over!"

"I will be there in 30 minutes."

I looked at my digital clock while hanging up the phone.  It read
4:12.  At 4:42 the doorbell rang.

I opened the door. His "ordinary" clothes were just as nice and
expensive looking as the clothes he wore to school. He had on a Ralph
Lauren jacket and Calvin Klein jeans. Everything fit perfectly.
Everything had a designer label and was immaculately clean.  He never
had a stitch of clothes out of place; nothing was ever un-tucked or
wrinkled. All of the colors were coordinated perfectly everyday. If
they gave an award for `best dressed kid', he would win hands down.

"Hey! Come on in!"  I introduced him to my mom. He took off his
jacket, and asked where he could hang it. (Most kids would have just
tossed it somewhere.) I opened the hall closet.  He took  a hanger,
neatly draped his jacket on it, hung it on the closet rail, and zipped
it halfway up.
 
We went back into my room. The game system was on the floor in front
of my television, and I already had the second controller hooked up. I
shut the door.

He had a puzzled look on his face. "You are allowed to close the door
to your room when you have visitors?"

This kid was sure sheltered.  "Yeah, it isn't a big deal.  They give
me my privacy."

He looked in my bathroom door. "You have your own bathroom?"

"It's really the main bathroom, but Mom and Dad use the one off of
their bedroom.  There are two other doors to this one, one to the
hall, and one to the spare bedroom on the other side.  I keep them
locked."

"You have your own television, too?"

"Yeah, I got it for Christmas a couple of years ago.  I even have my
own cable hook-up."

"My parents will not allow me to have my own television.  They like to
closely monitor the amount of television I watch, and the programming
content." He used some big words for a 13 year old.

"Well, my parents let me do my own thing pretty much. As long as I
stay out of trouble and keep my grades up."

"I wish I had that kind of freedom.  It seems like they do not trust
me to make the correct decisions."

"At least they let you come over here.  Did you ever get to go over to
a friend's house back in Indiana?"

"I went to Randy's house occasionally.  I got to stay overnight with
him once." (Hearing that reminded me of my two overnights with John.)

I started up the game and showed him how to make his character do the
moves.  He had a tough time with it.  I took it easy on him.  There
were a bunch of times my guy could have almost killed his guy. 
Whenever he did get one over on me it was purely luck.  He was just
pushing buttons like crazy, not knowing which combinations cause which
moves.  He seemed to be enjoying it, though.  We kept playing until
Mom called us in for supper.

She had made cheeseburgers for us, and was frying liver and onions for
her and Dad to eat.  We were both glad we didn't have to eat that
nasty liver.  She had poured us soft drinks from a 2-liter bottle, and
we ate cheeseburgers and  potato chips.

"Thank you, Mrs. Martin.  That was a delicious supper.  I enjoyed it
very much."  He wiped his mouth with a napkin.

"Why, Joey, you are a very polite young man.  You're welcome!" She
filled our drinks and I picked mine up and began to carry it back to
my room.  He looked surprised.  "It's OK, I eat and drink in my room a
lot.  We have the kind of carpet don't stain easy." He followed me,
carrying his glass with him..

We went back in the room.  It was 6:30. We had three hours before Joey
had to be home.

The WWF game had lost its luster. "Wanna play something else?"

"Whatever you want to do would be fine with me."

"I have NASCAR , Telzor 45, Wild West Shootout, and some others that
aren't much fun.  I also have board games, like Monopoly, Sorry, Clue.
I also have cards and poker chips."

"Cards and poker chips?"

"Yeah. Wanna play poker?"

"I don't know how." 

"Well you get dealt 5 cards, and you keep what you want and draw one
time as many as you want from 0 to 5 to make your hand better, then
you bet and the best hand wins."  He just looked at me with a huge
question mark on his face. The best way was to show him. I explained
`what beats what`, and the order of the face cards, and that the ace
is high. I laid out a couple of trial hands, and showed him how it
works. We played a couple of trial hands, and I had him lay his cards
down and showed him the best way to play the hand and how to bet. He
was beginning to understand.

I counted out 30 chips each and dealt.  He caught on pretty quick. 
Sometimes he would ask a question which would give away his hand, but
I went easy on him so he could learn.

The card game reminded me again of my overnights with John. Then,
though, the poker stakes were much higher than losing some plastic
chips.

"I have a pair of kings." He laid down his cards.  That time he beat
me.

"Good job, you're catching on."  I had to pee.  I got up, stretched,
and went in the bathroom.  I peed, flushed the toilet, and came back
in and sat down to continue the game.

"You don't shut and lock the door when you use the restroom?"

"It`s only me, so I never shut it.  Why do you want to know?"

"I suppose I am just not used to it.  I usually shut and lock the door
whenever I use the restroom."

"It's not like we're gonna walk in on each other, or nothing like
that.  It's OK to leave it open."

"Oh."  He stood up. "I need to use it, too."

He got up and went into the bathroom.  He left the door open! I
couldn't see in there from where I was sitting on the floor, so he had
privacy.  I heard the pee hit the water in the toilet, and then the
flush, and then the sink as he thoroughly washed his hands.  He came
out with a big smile on his face.

"I have never done that before."

"What?"

"Used the restroom with a door left open.  It made me feel like I was
free, like I had no restrictions."

"Hey, man, you can feel free anytime you are over here.  I won't put
any rules or nothing like that on you."  He sure made a big deal out
of that bathroom door thing, but it was nice to see him smile.

I hadn't seen him smile much. He was always so serious and
inquisitive, and never very adventurous. I really liked having him for
a friend, though.  The more I got to know him, the more I enjoyed
having him around.

We continued playing poker.  He was getting the hang of it as we kept
playing.  Toward the end he was winning as many hands as I was. He
even succeeded in bluffing a time or two.

"BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, BEEP!" He held up his wrist and pushed a
button on his watch.

"It is 9:15. I have to go home, now."  He got up and said, "Before I
go, I need to use the restroom again."  He went in and left the door
open like he did before.  I only heard a little bit of pee hit the
water this time.  I don`t think he really needed to go, he just wanted
that feeling of freedom again.  He washed his hands thoroughly, as
usual. He came out smiling again and said, "Thanks for a very nice
evening, Tim. I had a great time."

I saw him to the door. He got his jacket out of the closet and put it
on.

Mom came in from the kitchen, where Dad was eating his supper. (He had
to work late, as usual.)

"Thank you very much, Mrs. Martin.  I had a very nice time."

"You are welcome, anytime."

I watched him cross the street and his mom greeted him at the door. I
went back into my room and took off my shirt and pants. I got up on my
bed, leaning against the headboard with my pillows propped up. Turning
on the TV, I just lay there in my white Fruit of the Loom briefs.

Since John showed me how to do it, I had been masturbating frequently,
fantasizing about those four times I had gotten naked with him. 
Strange, just 4 times, yet I was consumed with the memory, every
detail.  The first night and the feeling I had when I took down my
underwear after losing that poker hand, the first time I jacked off
with John sleeping next to me, the second overnight when we
masturbated together, the "fake sleeping" incident when we jacked each
other off, and what we did up above the garage.  I wondered if those
cum spots were still up there on that floor. Just four orgasms with
John, and I thought about them often. The evening with Joey brought
back many of those feelings in a powerful way.

I laid there in bed and shut off the TV.  My pecker had become very
hard, and it was poking up like a tent pole in my underwear. I pulled
them down and began fondling it.
My pubic hairs were just starting to become a pretty good little crop,
too many to count. They were dark brown, almost black.  The plastic
ruler that John made me use in a dare was kept on my nightstand. I
measured my dick every time I masturbated. I had discovered that
gently stroking the underside of the head with my thumb and forefinger
made it get really big, to where it couldn't get any bigger.  That's
when I measured it.  That night I was 5    inches.  I had grown a lot
in 3 months. I guess when puberty hits, it all happens fast.  My voice
was changing, and some hair had started growing under my arms. I was a
late bloomer, but when the sexual activity began it got everything
jump-started.

The skin on my cock was very soft, and the inside part of it was very
hard. I took my thumb and two fingers and gently grasped the center of
the shaft. As I made up and down motions I could feel the texture of
hard inside as the soft skin slid over it. As the excitement
culminated, I did not want to wait any longer for release. I went
ahead and stroked it fast and furious, and my heart began pounding. I
got the "out of breath" feeling. WHAM! Blasts of hot semen fired out
and landed on my stomach. My whole body jerked with each shot.
 
I laid there absorbing the ecstasy.  After I was calm, I took some
tissues from my nightstand and wiped my stomach. I tossed them into
the trash can by my bed, and pulled my briefs back on. I got under the
covers and shut off the lamp. I just lay there in the dark.

I couldn't get Joey off my mind. I had a lot of questions. Had he
gotten his pubes, yet? Had he learned about jacking off, and if so,
had he tried it? Was it strange for me to be wondering about it?

Also, what was going through his mind when he was in the bathroom? 

I drifted off to sleep.
________________________________________________________________________

To be continued in Part 3, Tim's New Neighbor

Please respond. I love the feedback.

Also, if you have difficulty finding any of the 6 parts to the first
series, "The Adventures of Tim and John", please write.

mailto:billyboiiiiiii@yahoo.com

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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