By NAMB
Copyright 2025 by NAMB all rights reserved
[2,393 words]
* * * * *Marsha
Many of my stories are inspired by pictures. This
story is based on a picture of one of my favorite 3-D artists,
Roadkill. It is from his Girlhandled Series and is number 31. He’s up
to the eighties with the series now. This particular picture shows a
boy and girl sitting on the ground. The girl is sitting behind the
naked boy and has her arms wrapped around him and playing with his
penis. The girl’s face is covered with freckles and she is smiling. The
boy has a dreamy expression on his face.
-=o=-
I’ve
always known Marsha since we were little kids. She was literally “the
girl next door.” Although she was two years younger than me, that did
not stop us from playing with each other. We were the only kids near
our age anywhere in the neighborhood.
This arrangement was approved by our mothers who encouraged us to play together.
We played tag, catch, and other outdoor games when the weather was nice
and cards, board games and more sedate games when bad weather forced us
indoors. These games included “school” and “house” and, yes, I played
with her dolls, but that did not seem to leave any emotional scars on
my male ego.
Her association with me promoted a tomboy side of
her. She was more prone to wear shorts and sneakers than a dress or
skirt. Her mother appreciated the athleticism I encouraged in her
daughter.
My association with her had somewhat of a
domesticating effect on me: a fact that my mother appreciated. I had
the usual objections to doing chores but didn’t balk at them because
they were “women’s work.”
When I turned 12, mom gave me more
freedom, and I was allowed to leave the block and play with some of my
classmates several blocks away. Marsha became a less frequent play
partner, and I pretty much lost contact with her.
That changed
a couple of years later when someone had the idea to build a highway
that essentially cut us off from the rest of the city. We were once
again isolated from the rest of the world.
By this time, she was 12 and I was 14. It was summer and it was hot.
Her family got a pool. It wasn’t much – just a circular tank that held
about 3 feet of water, but on a hot summer day, it was an oasis.
That is when I started noticing Marsha as a girl. I mean a real girl,
not just some kid who had long hair and wore skirts every now and then.
She wore a two-piece bathing suit, and I saw things like flared out
hips, cute buns and a developing breast. Looking at her made me hard.
That never happened when we played as little kids.
It was my getting hard in her presence and that was my undoing.
Her mom called us out of the pool. “I have to run an errand. I know
that the two of you are responsible, but I don’t want you kids in the
pool without an adult around. I made some lunch, come sit on the porch
until I get back.”
I could see Marsha looking at me as we got
out of the pool. As we were having lunch on her back porch, she brought
up the topic.
She got right to the point, “Eric, do you have an erection?”
I did and I realized that she could see the tenting in my bathing suit,
and I blushed. There was no sense in denying it, but I tried to salvage
the situation.
“Marsha, that’s a very personal question.”
“Please, I want to know. We took Human Development last year and I
found some of it confusing. Other girls had brothers, and they know a
lot about this stuff.
I can see the lump in your pants, and I am curious about it.”
This was Marsha. She was my friend. I would not answer the question for
any other girl. “OK, I’ll tell you. Yes, I do. It just happens
sometimes.”
“What do you have to do to make it happen?"
“Like I said, sometimes it just happens.”
“I’ve heard that if a boy likes a girl, then his penis gets hard for her.”
I blushed and she went on.
“I notice that you seem to be hard a lot when you are around me. Do you like me?”
“Of course, I do. You are my friend. We’ve known each other for a long time.”
“I bet you don’t get hard around your other friends.”
“No, I don’t. They’re boys. If I got hard around them, that would be gay. I’m not gay.”
“So then, you are getting hard because I am your friend and I am a girl.”
“Well, you’re not exactly my girlfriend, but yeah, that’s the essence of it.”
“So, I’m the one who is making you hard.”
“Look, like I said. This is personal, can we just drop the conversation?”
“I’m sorry. It’s just that a lot of my friends have brothers, so they
know stuff about boys. Some even claim to have seen their brother’s
penises.
We’ve known each other all our lives. You’re the closest thing I have to a brother.
Please? I can’t talk to anyone else about this.”
“Do you know what a penis looks like?”
“I’ve seen the picture in my book, but it is kind of cartoonish. I am sure the real thing doesn’t look like that.”
Marsha was right. We were friends. We’ve shared secrets before. Also, I
had to admit that this very frank talk about sex was getting me aroused.
“OK, but we keep this conversation just to ourselves. It’s OK if you
tell your friends what we discuss, but don’t tell them that it was me
that told you.”
“Deal!”
Now that the ground rules were set, she continued.
“What’s it like having a penis? I mean, all my parts are on the inside. Yours are on the outside.
Do you feel it in your pants all the time?”
“No most of the time, it’s just like any other body part. Unless it gets hurt or something, I don’t even know it’s there.”
“Even when it’s hard like it is now?”
This girl wasn’t pulling any punches.
“Well having a boner is a different story.”
“Boner?” she giggled. “Is that what boys call it?”
“Well, we hardly ever call it an erection. That’s a term reserved for
the sex-ed book. We call it a boner, a woody, a hard-on or a stiffie
and maybe a couple of other names that I can’t think of right now.”
“Oh. I like those other names. They sound exciting.”
I decided to play along, “What other names have you heard for penis?”
“Pee-pee, but that sounds so little girlish. One of the girls in my
class spent time in England and she says the girls over there call it a
willie.”
“We boys generally call it a cock or a dick or sometimes even a prick.”
I enjoyed watching her blush as I reeled off the terms. I could have
fun with this. It was embarrassing her, but it was also exciting me to
be so open and honest with a girl about these issues.
I decide to drop he big one on her, “Do you know what fucking is?”
“Isn’t that a dirty word?”
“To some people, but do you know what it is?”
She shook her head.
“Have you heard of the term intercourse?”
“Yes. It’s what a man and a woman have to do to have a baby. I kind of have an idea what it is.”
I decided to be explicit. “That’s when a man puts his penis into the
woman’s vagina and rubs it around and shoots his sperm into her. That’s
how babies are made.”
Her face got all screwed up and I had to laugh.
“Don’t boys make pee out of their penis?”
“Yes, we do.”
“Then how do you decide when to make pee and make sperm?”
“I guess boys make pee the same way that girls do. The bladder gets
full, you relax some muscles, and it comes out. With boys it comes out
the penis.
To make sperm, you have to rub on the penis.”
She held her hand over her mouth and giggled. “So boys have to rub it around inside a girl?”
I nodded and explained. “It’s supposed to be fun for both the man and
the woman. I can’t speak about what it feels like for the woman, but
when I do it, it feels really good.”
“You’ve … you did that with a girl?”
Oops, I just admitted that I masturbated. I consoled myself with the thought, “It’s just Marsha.”
“No, I haven’t but there is something else boys do that makes them feel
almost as good.” I could not believe that I was opening up this subject.
“What is it?” she asked.
“It’s called jerking off.”
“I heard some boys talking about that. They seemed to be ashamed of it.”
“Well, it is a very private thing for a boy.
“Thank you so much. I am learning so much from you.”
I noticed that she was no longer staring at my crotch but at my face. She took hold of my arm.
As kids we used to wrestle, tickle and otherwise touch each other more
intensely than this, but this gentle touch electrified me. It was
sensual and added to my arousal.
“Please tell me more,” she urged.
“Well jerking off is also known as masturbation. Masturbation is when a
guy makes himself cum, that is, ejaculates or shoots sperm by
stimulating his cock.”
I could see that she wasn’t getting it, so I went on.
“The guy grabs the shaft of his cock and pulls the skin over the head
and then pulls it back. He keeps doing this until he cums.”
That definition sounded silly even to my ears.
“Cums?” she asked.
“Cums. Like I just said. That’s when a boy squirts his sperm. Cum also refers to the sperm itself.”
“It’s all so confusing. I … I still don’t get it.”
Her next sentence hit me full force: “Can you show me.”
At any other time and with any other girl, my reaction would have been
an instantaneous, “no.” But I had been aroused for nearly a half hour.
I’ve never been this hard for this long without relieving myself.
Also, this was Marsha, my friend for as long as I can remember. She was like a sister to me.
“Look, mom’s not home. We can do it inside.”
Then I thought, “What the heck. It could be kinky. It might add a little spice to the action.”
I agreed with the caveat, “Just this one time and you never tell anyone that we did this.”
She agreed.
We went to the downstairs playroom where we often played as little
kids. I decided to go the whole way. Since I was only wearing a bathing
suit, T-shirt and flip-flops, it was easy to get completely naked for
her.
She was all eyes as she watched me get undressed for her. I let her take the sight in.
“So how do you do it?”
It was fairly easy for me. I was halfway down the track. I did not have
to take off from the starting blocks since I was already fully erected
and maybe even more so. I was right, the kink factor kicked in. I was
naked in front of a girl two years my junior and about to show her my
most intimate secret.
I wrapped my fist around the organ and
started to pump away. It did not take me long to shoot my load. Marsha
squealed with delight as she witnessed the jets of semen leaping from
my penis.
“Thank you,” she said, “you made me so happy. I can’t imagine what that would feel like inside me.
Let me get some paper towels to clean that stuff up. I never thought it would be so messy.”
I had no desire to get dressed as I watched her clean up and make a
fuss over me. She kept showering me with flattering comments.
She looked over at me, “It looks different. What happened.”
“Oh, it’s just getting flaccid or soft. It does that after I cum. It can be ready after a while.”
“You mean that you can do it again?”
“With enough rest. Normally I just do it once a day, but sometimes more if I have the time and am horny enough.”
“Are you horny enough now?” she giggled.
“Give me a while.” It was true. Marsha was no beauty, but she was cute.
I never really thought of her “that way” but a guy’s opinion of a girl
changes after he’s jerked off for her.
She got out some snacks and some sodas from the refrigerator and put on some music. We sat and talked about things in general.
I was hard again about a half hour later.
“It looks like you are ready again,” she noted. Then she giggled, “You have a boner.”
I made a bold decision. I said, “I’m sure you got a good look at what I was doing the last time. Do you want to try it?”
“Can I?”
“Of course.”
She sat on the floor with her back against the wall. I sat in her lap,
and she wrapped her arms around me. Then grabbed my penis and started
pumping.
She must have learned well from watching me. Her
touch was electrifying. I could feel her excitement as it radiated out
of her body. That excited me. It didn’t matter that she was
inexperienced or that her initial stroking had been so clumsy. This was
Marsha and she was touching me.
She was clothed and I was
naked and that made all the difference. I was vulnerable to her, but
her embrace comforted me. I enjoyed that feeling. I swear that I came
better the second time around.
“Thank you for letting me do that with you,” she said. “I had fun.”
“So did I.”
“Can we do this again?”
“I’d like that very much, Marsha.”
And that is how this became a regular activity for us to do every Saturday.