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Subject: Title story: "Breaking the habit" Author: David Lemmaire 82114843
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Date: Thu, 03 Aug 2006 13:43:15 +0000
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If it weren't for the mole on Aaron Denton's dick, I'd be a lot happier, I
guarantee you. That mole has been bothering me ever since third grade, when I
saw him piss in the woods.
"What?" he said blankly, looking around at our horrified stares, not realizing
he was doing something completely unnatural.
The rest of us were just hanging it out, taking a regular piss through our
zippers like sensible people, but not Aaron. Shit. Without even giving it a
second thought, Aaron unzipped his jeans, pulled his pants down, right to the
knees -- (aaack!) -- and started shooting a gusher all over the trees.
The rest of us guys didn't know what to say. We all just stared at him, like he
was the craziest fucking lunatic on the planet.
"What?" he repeated. "Why's everybody looking?"
"Dude," I motioned to him calmly. "Your ass is showing."
He looked pretty unfazed that his golden globe nominations were hanging out in
the breeze.
"So what?" he mumbled. "It's how I piss."
"Whatever," I shrugged.
We zipped up and let him do his thing.
It's a free country.
__________________________________________________
My name's Cory Darrington. I'm 12. Aaron's name is Aaron Denton. He's 12, too.
Some of you people like your names and ages right up here in the front of the
story. So, there they are.
Whatever.
Knock yourselves out.
__________________________________________________
Now, I'd be lying if I told you that Aaron Denton's dick didn't fascinate me.
It did.
I took one of those mental photographic snapshots -- and no matter how hard I
tried to shake it -- it wouldn't let me go.
I mean, I saw everything.
Tiny little dick. (No offense intended. Mine was, too).
Balls like a sack of pennies.
Snow-white ass, with a tan line showing above the waist.
And a god damn mole on his pecker!
Not a big one. Just a mini-mole. But located right toward the top of the shaft
-- just below the tiny mushroom head. As he stood there peeing, pinching the
middle of his stalk between two dirty fingers, you couldn't help but notice it.
In third grade, your friends' dicks are a dime a dozen.
But a mole under the head...?
Now that's something worth remembering.
___________________________________________________
So, Aaron and I became best friends. Anybody's who's got the guts to pull their
pants down in front of three other guys, expose a dick mole and say fuck the
consequences, is all right in my book.
We wound up in the same class in fourth and fifth...and had a lot of classes
together in sixth. We're in seventh is this year, in case you're wondering.
Some of you like the school grades up front, too.
What is it with you people?
We're kids. We're in school. Relax. Life goes on.
___________________________________________________
The habit?
Well, what do you think?
It's jacking off.
God, I must do it 45 times a day.
Have you ever jacked off so many times your dick gets all puffy and stretched-
out under the head?
I mean...you try to take it easy. You use spit. You use lotion. You use
Vaseline. You walk into the kitchen and your mom's baking cookies and you stare
longingly at the Crisco.
But no matter how careful you try to go, you wind up the next morning with that
red, puffy, diseased looking penis -- the one that looks like you just ran it
through a meat grinder.
I'm 12 now, and I've whacked more times than those guys in the
lumberjack contests.
My dick hurts all the time.
But, oh my God, I can't keep my hands off myself.
"Half-hour, half-hour," I whisper to myself, through clenched teeth. I try to
space my sessions out so I REALLY don't overdo it.
My shaft is usually a mess of scraped-off skin. Getting hard-ons is a major
medical condition.
Code blue in Cory's room. I need a crash cart! Stat!
I can't stop.
If they ever give awards for self-mutilation, I'd like to thank my parents, my
agent, and most of all, God.
__________________________________________________
"That's it," I told Aaron, toward the end of the school year. "I'm done. I'm
quitting. I'm giving this shit up."
He was studying my swollen, puffy penis in my room. Limp. Exhausted. Too
pooped to pump.
He prodded it with a pencil to see what it might do. It just laid there, like a
dog on a rug.
He shook his head.
"Yep," he said firmly. "You're wrecking it, all right."
I put my hands up in the air. Guilty.
"How many times a day you do it?" he asked.
"Five-hundred," I exaggerated. "Six-hundred when Baywatch is on."
"Yeah," he said coolly. "Baywatch does that to me, too."
I zipped up my pants and we went downstairs to make sandwiches.
Might as well give up breathing.
__________________________________________________
The worst part about jacking off is -- I can't think of girls!
That Baywatch crap is just a lie!
All I can think of is Aaron's god damn mole on his dick!
I'll be in my room, pumping away, lost somewhere between the pain and the
pleasure, and I'll be desperately trying to think of anything female -- Jackie
Golan's tits -- Brenda Hanson ...
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