Pantsing and Stripping Forums

Twas the Night Before Christmas
Chapter 11. Who Can You Trust


Having finished playing Patty Cake with my butt, Suzie scooted her body higher up on mine. She sat down, her panty adorned rear end plopped
down on my bare rear end. "Would you like a massage, mister?" Her hands pushed down on my back, just below the neck. "Free of charge.
Comes with the price of the room."

"Okay. I guess so." What else could I say.

I really didn't know what to do. Suzie has taken over and I'm just along for the ride...I mean I'm being the one ridden. She sits atop of me
like a triumphant wrestler having vanquished an opponent in the ring of battle. I lost that battle, and face down in my disgrace I have to take
whatever comes my way.

What comes my way actually feels good. Suzie doesn't weight much, but it's the perfect amount of force being applied by her hands. She
can lean down as she gently rotates her hands, mostly the weight in the palms but the fingers are active too. Slowly and methodically the
massage works a magical spell over me. I can feel some calmness returning. The hyper emotional rollercoaster of the previous hour, as I fought
tooth n nail to keep the nude state I was in covered up, it is replaced by a blissful hopefulness. Maybe Suzie will do this back rub and call it
a night. Maybe she'll finish up having her fun and the night can return to normal.

I glance over at the clock. It's just after 2 am. Wow, how the time flies when you're having fun. Two hours gone by since Suzie entered my
bedroom. Somehow it feels like only minutes gone by and it feels like forever. I don't know where Suzie learned this massage technique, but it feels awesome. Another few minutes of this and I might actually drift off to sleep.

Suzie scooted herself back a couple feet, her weight back over my upper legs again. I can feel the cooler air on my ass once more. Her hands
press down on my lower back, digging in with her knuckles, pushing in with the thumbs. Even though I know Suzie can look down at a closeup
of my butt again, being touched this way is a gift. I love it.

As if reading my mind, Suzie asks, "Is this the best backrub you've ever had?"

I can't remember getting a backrub like this before, so I can truthfully answer, "Yes it is, it's amazing."

"Aren't you glad I came over?"

No answer from me. It was SILENT NIGHT, not a peep from my lips on that question. Eventually I have to say something, "Sure Suzie, I didn't
have anything else planned, except getting some sleep."

"Who needs rest the night before Christmas. This is too much fun to pass up," she digs her fingers in along the sides of my hip.

Suzie is being nice right now, but can I trust her?

* * * * *

I was not at all happy to hear my parents had invited Mr. and Mrs. York over for a Christmas Eve get together. I mean I didn't mind that my
parents' friends were going to drop by. I could care less about that. But when it was mentioned little Suzie was coming along too...that is
when I got steamed and stormed off to my room. That girl is such a pain in the ass. Most girls are a pain of one sort or another, and I avoided
them most of the time.

In 8th grade I saw a strange and sudden change come over a few of my buddies at school. Randall in particular is a good example.
Randall would come over all the time to play video games, or basketball at a park nearby. Randall and I would have sleepovers at each other's
house. We'd talk for hours about how so and so football team should win the championship, what good movies are being made by Marvel
Comics, how all the DUNE movies are hard to understand...you know, the usual guy stuff. As I was saying, when I was thirteen, I noticed
my buddy Randal wasn't coming over as much. I noticed how distracted he was in the hallways while walking to class. Whenever we passed
a group of girls his head would spin around in their direction while I kept on walking. If I saw the girls looking back at us, I quickened my pace.
Soon after that Randall didn't have time to hang around with me anymore. I guess he found better things to do.

Randall didn't know what I know. You can't trust girls. You can't trust grownups either

The year I was in 8th grade, mom signed me up to be in a play, a Christmas holiday musical. Since I read so much, she thought I might be
interested in theater. I was taken to a rehearsal where I got to meet everyone in the cast, and they all happened to be in High School. I'm the
only one in 8th grade. Being the new kid, being inexperienced at stage performance, the Director didn't give me a speaking or singing part. "You are so small, so adorable and cute, " Mrs. Schweiner told me. She had a noticeable German accent. I was given the part of a Cherubic angel.

I thought being an Angel was okay until I found out the costume part of it. I was told to take off all my clothes except the boxers I had on, the
only pair of boxers that I convinced mom to buy me. A sixteen year old girl named Molly is the wardrobe mistress. She hands me a white
cloth. She gives me a quick set of instructions in how to put it around me, then sends me into the bathroom. I figure out how to get it on,
then after going back to the stage the wardrobe mistress added more twists, mainly on the backside. When finished it looked incredibly small
with so much exposed skin showing. "No need to be concerned. Kids in Japan wear this during their festivals," Molly proudly informed me.

What worried me most is it didn't fit tightly as I thought it should.

https://stat.ameba.jp/user_images/20160 ... 461665.jpg

I was shocked how it looked on me. I didn't care if it was traditional Japanese. The white strip of cloth looked like a thong. I was devastated,
but was afraid to tell Molly that I quit, that I'm not wearing that. Then I had to stand still for the wings to be put onto my body. Golden
wings they were. After the makeup is applied to my face, and I saw myself in a mirror, I could see the casting was correct. I was an innocent, sweet Cherubic angel, and my thirteen year old body and baby face was perfectly molded for the part.

I had doubts, but these drama queen theater girls are the experts. I just have to trust them.

Interesting that this vignette didn’t end back in the current situation in the bedroom.
Maybe this flashback is longer?

Twas the Night Before Christmas
Chapter 12. Who Can You Trust, Part Two


Suzie is on my legs as she massages my back. It feels good and I like it, but I'm nervous about what she might try next. All she has seen of
me so far is my butt, but will that be enough to satisfy the girl's curiosity? Will she try to see the rest of me? How will she try to do it and
can I block her, these are some of the things I'm thinking about. All of this brought back to me a memory I had done my best to bury for good,
something that happened a couple years earlier right before Christmas.

* * * * *

As a bit part player in a Christmas pageant, I didn't have much to do. All I had to do is look the part of a Cherub angel and be cute and
adorable like the director woman described me. I was involved in the final major scene, where the main performers gather on the stage
to sing a series of classic songs such as "Silent Night" and "Joy To The World". Above all of them is the angel, floating around eight or
ten feet over their heads.

It was a cloud I had to stand upon. A cloud with a moon attached along with it. The cloud and the moon were cardboard cutouts
stapled to a small platform. I get onto this platform which is only a wooden beam one foot wide and four feet long, and it is hoisted up to
hang near the performers below, slightly behind them all and closer to the back of the stage. A cable on each side is what I hang onto as it
moves up into the air. These two cables are slender enough so to not be seen from any distance away. It must look as if I am standing on a
floating cloud with the moon shining right next to me. It looked really cool when done in practice rehearsal.

I'm in my costume, which consists of only two things, golden wings and the small, white thong like thing covering my crotch. The makeup on
my face is a mix of gold and silver paints with glitter sprinkled in as well. I will be shining brightly since a spotlight has been designated to
keep me lit up and easily seen by all.

I was nervous in the practice lift but soon learned how to keep the platform balanced. I had to keep my feet near the sides, not the middle,
to keep it from rocking. I had to keep my hands firmly wrapped around the two cables. I had to use both hands. Letting go with one hand
is dangerous, since this platform isn't going to remain stationary, but will be gently swung about to have continuous motion. The attention to
realism was amazing, such dedication on the part of the crew to put everything together perfectly.

Now back to my costume. I mentioned I was concerned how loose it was. I thought it should be snug and tight...so nothing can slip, right?
Molly the wardrobe mistress was the one who checked the fitting on the white cloth thong. She said it was fine. Then she helped me get onto
the platform, which can't be down on the ground, or the cloud would break off. With this platform two feet above the floor, Molly had to
help lift me up onto it as I grabbed the two support cables. I'm in position, and up I went when the director signaled the lift guys up in the
ceiling area of the stage.

Just as the lifting of the platform began, I felt a tug on the back of my costume. I looked down in alarm. The back strap, the one that went
from the middle of my butt and tucks underneath the legs had come undone. I can see the white chord hanging down between my legs.

"Hey...something went wrong" I tried to shout and whisper at the same time. I'm looking down at Molly, and she is looking up at me. I notice
she isn't showing surprise or shock on her face. All I see is a toothy smile. The wardrobe mistress can see there is a malfunction occurring
with my costume, but she doesn't yell out to stop the ascent of the cloud and moon structure I'm standing on.

The brightness of the spotlight turns on, and the crew adjusts the direction to place its bright beams upon me. From the perspective of
the people in the audience I am glowing brightly with great radiance.

A musical number begins, and any words I might say are drowned out after that. I am lifted to about fifteen feet into the air, and the upstairs
crew maneuvers the platform to hang above the back of the stage. The chord around my waist is rapidly getting looser. I can feel it unwinding
and slipping down my hip. My Cherub costume is about to fall off. Taking a risk I let go with one hand. I reach down to try to grab the
rapidly loosening wrap of material. As I had been warned, letting go upsets the apple cart. The platform tilts slightly to the right, and it
swerves toward the back. I nearly get tossed off, have to immediately resume hanging on with both hands. The sudden shifting of the platform
was the final bit of motion required to cause the thong to fall apart completely. The final twists unravel, and it slips off of me to plummet
downward.

I follow the decent of my small costume, and it lands behind the actor playing one of the Three Kings. This king looks up, looks back, and he
starts to laugh. He goes back to singing, but not before he bumps all the other actors next to him and directs their attention upward. Soon all
the girls who make up the choir and other characters are looking right at me instead of toward the audience.

With my legs spread wide for the required balance of the platform, with my arms spread wide to hang onto the cables, I am spread eagled
and naked. Every inch of me is visible, and I've suddenly become the main object of interest on the stage. The singing of the choir has lost
the perfection it normally has, sounding choppy and almost chaotic as various members of the choir turn around to look at the naked boy.
I can hear a change come over the audience, as the viewers notice something strange has happened, something unusual and humorous.
The people in the audience were suddenly very jolly with a ho ho ho sound of laughter.

The director didn't think it was funny. I saw Mrs. Schweiner rush over to the wardrobe mistress. The director points up in my direction. I
think at this point that I will be brought back down. But this doesn't happen. After a minute of discussion, the director shrugs her shoulders
and walks away. Disrupting the whole Christmas production just to fix a wardrobe malfunction was inconceivable. As long as there are no
injuries, no accidents of that sort, the show must go on.

The closing musical number lasts for nearly fifteen minutes, an eternity to have to stand there with my limbs widespread, my genitals easily
seen by those in the front rows, very visible to the entire cast and crew. The spotlight remained focused on me the whole time. The show
went on as if nothing unusual had occurred.

Being brought down was worse. The curtains close as the show ends. The upstairs crew lowers the platform. Instead of slipping through
the curtains to take their final bows before the audience, they came and grabbed me. Along with the rest of the actors, I was pushed
between the curtains to take center stage. I tried to cover up with my hands, but somebody kept grabbing them, first from one side and then
the other. Finally, I reached up past my head. I grabbed one of the wings and gave it a yank. The wing breaks off, and this I use to cover
myself with.

Obviously, the malfunction and the resulting disruptions and messy vocalizing made a mess of the final stage of the performance. However,
the audience vocalized their appreciation with thunderous applause.

When I got home, my mom gave me a whoopin. She was convinced I had caused the malfunction myself. She thought I was a publicity
seeking pervert who needed to be punished.

That was a hard lesson from Christmas past. You can't trust a girl. The sixteen year old Molly proved she could not be trusted when she
sabotaged my costume. The director could have had me brought down but chose to let me hang up there fully exposed. "Cherubs don't wear
clothes," the director said when I asked her what happened after the show. "We restored authenticity to the production".

I dropped out of participating in theater after that one performance.

* * * * *

Suzie finished massaging my backside. She even spent some time on the lowest part of my back. I could feel her hands on both sides near the
top of my ass-crack, the fingers digging deep into the tissues of the gluteus maximus. I had to say those words because Suzie asked me, "What is
the name of the butt muscles. I don't remember."

After the massaging, she rubs her now very warm hands over my warmed up butt. Suzie finishes with a few more playful slaps. At least she
wasn't singing songs or playing Patty Cake anymore.

"Okay Scotty, I finished with this side. You can roll over now."

"Roll over?! Are you crazy? I'm not rolling over and that is final," I said these words right away. I had sort of anticipated something like this,
and I had a prepared response. I spoke clearly and firmly that I was not going to let her see the front of my body. "I have no intention of
moving. Not one inch you hear me."

Suzie probably wasn't' surprised by my reaction, because she too had a ready prepared response. Leaning forward, she dug her fingers into the
sides of my ribs. Massage techniques are replaced by tickle technique.

"Stop that. Stop tickling me," I pleaded.

"Turn over and I'll stop," Suzie says between gleeful giggles.

I can't help it; I start to squirm. I shift this way and that way like a worm out on the deck of a boat. Suzie gets off of me, and kneeled
down at my side she plunges her hands between my thighs. She tickles and tries to spread my legs at the same time.

"Leave me alone," I yell at my tormentor. I knew it. I knew the sweet girl routine wasn't going to last. The Grinch, the monster had returned.
Suzie kept finding new places to poke her fingers, more sensitive areas to touch. The feet became a target. Now I hate having my feet ticked.
It makes me thrash about like a flopping fish pulled out of water.

I can't control all of my motions. I left an opening, and that wicked girl takes advantage, slides a hand up under my butt. The area just above
my balls becomes target zero. The feeling is intense, the shivers run up and down my legs. I can't take it much longer. This is also making me
have to pee.

"This isn't fair," I said, trying once more for her to be reasonable about this. "I don't deserve this."

Suzie continues the assault, both on that crazy sensitive spot below the crack of my butt, that place where my balls are hanging down,
and on the inner part of the thighs. It's a double whammy and with all the laughing coming out of me I'm getting dizzy like a sailor drunk on
spiked eggnog. In my squirming I lifted myself up too much and the girl's hand slides down to wrap around my balls. If she starts to squeeze
I'd be the star in the NUTCRACKER.

It's been proven once again. You can't trust a girl. Santa needs to put Suzie on his NAUGHTY list.

Almost there

Twas the Night Before Christmas
Chapter 13. Twas the Time to Roll Over


I pressed my body down against the mattress, but it was too late. The hand is under me; it's under my balls. Suzie's hand is on my balls,
wrapped her little fingers around my precious pair of dangling jewels. She couldn't have gotten much of a glimpse of them hanging down, but
that doesn't matter much once she has a firm grip. For years I've heard grownups say "Blankety-blank has got me by the balls". I only sort of
understood what they were saying. Now I understand perfectly. It's about loss of control. I'm no longer in control of what I do or what happens
next.

"Hey, you can't grab me there?" I yell out, hoping I would be released, that Suzie didn't intentionally do that.

"Got you where the grabbing is good. Ha ha, I've wanted to do something like this for a long time."

Suzie sounds super pleased with herself, like some kind of crazy, devious plan is unfolding, and it's been in the planning stages for years. I can
feel her fingers moving around as they find the best way to hold on. I'm feeling feverish all over. Even though the covers are no longer on me
I don't feel any chill.

"What do you want? Why are you doing this?"

"I wasn't finished with your massage. It's my treat, an early Christmas present. I'm doing all the work here, but it's only halfway done. Now be
a good boy and roll over so I can do the frontside."

"Maybe I don't want to."

I felt Suzie's hand tighten. She tightened her grip, then she tugged on me. It wasn't a strong pull, just enough to get my attention. A slap on
the ass jolts me. Several hard hand slaps connect with my rear end, much harder than when Suzie did that dumb Patty Cake butt patting.

"Bad boys that don't do what I tell them get spanked. Even this is fun for me. I can do this all night if you know what I mean." A fourth and
fifth hand slap connects with the tender skin. "One spank, two spanks, three spanks and four. Roll over on the bed or you'll get some more."
Slap and another slap. "We have lots to do before Santa gets here."

Twas the night before Christmas, and in the bedroom of the house
two kids played a game called the cat catches the mouse
testicles were hung in Suzie's hand with great care
in hopes that Saint Nicholas soon would be there

The children were nestled all snug in the bed
while visions of being seen naked danced in my head
mom in her nightgown could check on us suddenly
finding me without clothes would disturb her most greatly

"My mom might come in here and see us." It was maybe the thing I feared most that mom could notice the light in the room is on, that
she would barge on in to find me in a compromising position, that she'd find me being naughty. I feared the GHOST of what might be. I hoped
Suzie would as well, and she'll let go of me.

"We have to chance it. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Now roll over...or do I have to start squeezing your sugar plums."

The girl won't relent or listen to reason. I've exhausted all ideas of getting out of this with no more exposure than what's already occurred.

"Okay, okay. I'll roll over. Let go of me down there, please."

"I'm letting go. If you double cross me you'll wish you didn't." Suzie's hand unwraps from my sack. With a little jiggling and squirming the hand
pulls out from underneath my crotch.

I'm free of the hand around my balls, but now I have to do the thing I dreaded, rolling onto my backside to let Suzie see the rest of my
body

"Well, I'm waiting."

Damn, that girl can be so impatient and pushy. With a sigh exhaling from my mouth, with a heavy weight bearing down on me, I force the
muscles of arms and legs to turn this unwilling body over. It's done, I'm on my back. I keep my hands down at my sides. Trying to cover up
at this point would be foolish and useless. I suddenly feel chilled again, and a shiver runs through me. Other than my mom, no woman or
girl has seen me this close before.

Suzie sits on the bed beside me. For the longest time all she does is look me over. I want to look away, but for some reason my eyes fixated
upon her face. I watch Suzie's eyes as she scans me from top to bottom and back to the middle, mostly the mid-section.

"Wow...Scotty. You're so...like wow!"

For once Suzie is at a loss of words. Her eyes light up like when a child gets an unexpected present unwrapped. She was expecting
to see me naked, but what she sees catches her by surprise. A hearty laugh comes out of her.

Her eyes, how they twinkled. Her dimples how merry
Her cheeks were like roses, her nose like a cherry
Suzie's little mouth is drawn up in a bow
and the hair on her head is brown like cheap coal

The lips parted to reveal gleaming white teeth
amazed she is at wondrous sights seen beneath
she has a cute face and a tight n firm belly
small boobs shook with a laugh, like two bowls of jelly

The sight is amazing, seeing her laugh like that, and from the angle my eyes happen to be in. Looking up from the lying down position, I get a
view of Suzie's chest that really shows how much her tits stick out through that tight sleeveless shirt.

"Okay, break time is over. Let's get back to work shall we." Suzie leans over me, placing her hands on my chest. The special holiday rubdown
part two begins.

Seems she likes what she sees
You’re still on a roll with this one!

This is sort of how I imagine Scotty to look like.
The actor Chris Furrh, when he co-starred in the 1990 movie "Lord of the Flies".
He most likely was 15 during the filming.
Very young looking at thirteen years old. At fifteen he's still slender, but athletic...and if you saw the movie, surprisingly strong and scary.

https://ichef.bbci.co.uk/images/ic/640xn/p02lbpl6.jpg

Any hot blooded young girl would love to have this on the bed (and at her mercy).

A close second would be River Phoenix, how he looked in the movie "Mosquito Coast" for a little more muscle.

Twas the Night Before Christmas
Chapter 14. Massage Maketh Me Talk


I lay like a dead man on my own bed, as Suzie finally got me flipped over onto my backside, finally had me where she wanted me which is
naked and full frontally exposed. She had gotten very excited after I rolled over to present my frontside for her viewing pleasure. What was
happening when she said "Wow...Scotty. You're so...like wow", what made her respond with such awe and enthusiasm?

Half of it is just the fact she is seeing me naked. The second half is my dick responded to being looked at. I was at best only partially hard
when Suzie tickled me. I think I lost some of that hardness when she grabbed my balls. The shock of that wasn't exactly thrilling for me,
or erotic. But once I was facing upward, once I was able to see Suzie's face as her eyes roamed all over my body, mainly gazing directly
on what previously was private property, the excitement surged within me. Knowing that a girl, any girl, is seeing me this way somehow
makes me get hot. It makes my juices start to flow.

The blood rushed to my dick. I could feel it getting harder in only seconds. Half erect turned into fully erect and Suzie can see it happening
in real time, in closeup and in full color and with the brightness of multiple lights on in the room. Suzie laughed, but it was a good sounding
laugh. She wasn't' making fun of me. This laughing actually got me even hotter and more aroused, as seeing her breasts jiggle from her
laughing is such a turn on. 'Damn, I want to see those boobs', I thought to myself...but for the moment I will be motionless and do nothing.

I moved not a muscle. Nothing moved except for the rise and fall of my dick as the heart pumped blood through it. Thump-thump, thump-
thump, my heart beats a hundred times a minute or so it feels.

When Suzie puts her hands on me to give me the frontside muscle rubdown, that is when I actually start to calm down a little. Her hands
on my shoulders is a welcome embrace compared to what those hands were doing only a minute or two earlier with the ball grabs and butt
spanks.

As Suzie massages my chest, I get a sense of Deja Vu. She was doing this before when we were playing doctor, when Doctor Suzie checked
my chest for irregular heartbeat, when she squeezed the nipples to check for what she called Tityitis. What she is doing now is not
as good as before. She is distracted by something else, occasionally glancing further down my body.

"You did this earlier," I inform my masseuse.

"You know what, you're right. I did this part of you already. What's the matter? Don't you like it?"

Oops and dang it. That girl keeps twisting what I say into something I didn't mean. "Oh ah, it feels great."

"Hmmm. Let's try something else. How about a leg massage?" Suzie hops off the bed. She goes to the foot of the bed, then she picks up my
left foot. This foot gets swung over a foot or so. Then the same is done with the right foot. My legs are spread apart, and Suzie kneels down
in between them.

Being in this position, Suzie has an even better view of my dick and balls. Her eyes are glued onto them, even as her hands reach for and
wrap around the muscles of the left thigh. Suzie starts at the knee and works her way up, her eyes basically staring at my crotch the whole
time. If Suzie's superpower was lasers beams shot from the eyes like Cyclops of the X-Men, she would have burned my throbbing boner to a
crisp. As her magical massaging fingers inched ever closer to the hips area, the massage girl once again becomes curious.

"When did it grow to be so big? I mean Scotty, I saw how bulged out it was when you wore that Spiderman suit to the Halloween party. You
had it stretched out in so many ways. Ha ha...and then I had you stuff socks into your underwear. That was so funny."

This is crazy talk in my humble opinion. "You really going to make me talk about my body parts?"

"Suzie massage, you talk," Suzie says, suddenly sounding a lot like Tarzan. "Tell me story how you get big boy boner."

I didn't want to talk about it. Who would? Who comes right out to a friend, saying something like 'Did I tell you when I went through
puberty? The changes were amazing. Let me tell you all about it...' Heck no, people don't talk to each other like that. At least not anybody
I know. People keep their penis issues to themselves.

I could hardly believe it, but my mouth opened up and I started to talk...

* * * * *

I first noticed it during Christmas of last year. My grandparents got me some underwear and a Speedo. I put the swimsuit on and went
back into the living room in only that Speedo. Grandma said something about how much I had grown. At first, I thought she meant how
much taller I had gotten. Then I came to realize it was how much the front of the Speedo was filled out. I was fourteen years old, and I
had grown a lot since the previous summer. It sort of snuck up on me.

Well, my mom destroyed that swimsuit. Burned the Speedo in the fireplace along with the nice, fancy underwear along with it. Mom said
I was showing off. Wearing those kinds of briefs or a racing suit was showing off and vanity. Mom made me take the swimsuit off right in
front of her. For a long time I had nothing on and could do nothing about it. I couldn't figure it out. When out and about in public, she
makes me stay covered up. "Don't be vulgar" she'd say if I went outside without a shirt on. "Nobody wants to see that".

That's why I wouldn't take my shirt off at the lake when we went swimming together. Mom is there, and if she caught me on that inner
tube with my shirt off I'd have been given a stern talking to. She'd blister my hide if I showed too much skin.

Why did my mom want me to stay covered up? What was wrong with me, what needed to remain hidden? Was it my slender chest or
not so muscular legs? For a while I thought that could be it, that mom didn't' want me to be picked on as a wimpy kid. Then something
happened to make me reconsider everything. The PE coach in 8th grade insisted we take a shower after class. I noticed some of the
other guys glancing at me. When I looked their way, they'd shift their gaze away. It's as if they felt guilt about it. I started paying more
attention. I started checking out the other guys in my class. It dawned on me, hit me like a sack of potatoes upside my head. My penis
was way longer than anybody else.

One day coach saw me drying off after a shower. As he walked by me he stopped. "Dang it Scott. If you sat on the toilet and farted,
you'd siphon off half the water in the bowl."

That same year each student had to be in a Sex Education course, with boys in separate rooms, separate classes from the girls. Coach taught
the lessons in proper hygiene and what is going on with our bodies during the later stages of puberty. Coach has this brilliant idea. He volunteers me to be his assistant.

"Take off your shorts, underwear too," the coach says to me. Get fully undressed and stand over next to the reproductive system diagram."

The coach explains the functions of each part, pointing to each on the diagram, then pointing to it on me. I had to demonstrate, hold my penis
up so they can see my balls. It was awful in some ways, and funny in others. I hated being the one forced to display my boy parts to
everyone in the class. But I also loved it. I was thrilled knowing each of those other guys had to look at me...and they all knew I was bigger
than any of them. Then the school nurse walked it to warn us about the dangers of having a sex partner and how we'll end up with STDs. I saw
her coming in time to cover up and sit down, with my clothes out of reach. I was leaned over covering my crotch for half an hour without
moving. It made my back ache. I think the coach did it on purpose. He wanted to give the nurse the thrill of seeing me. Did I tell you the
coach and the nurse were dating each other?

* * * * *

Suzie finished massaging my thighs. She had briefly touched upon the sides of my hips. Suddenly her hand shot out, and it wrapped around
the erection that's been throbbing incessantly right before her. As her right-hand wraps around the shaft, just above the balls, Suzie lifts
my dick up so it points straight upward. It looks so big in her hand. In fact, she could put both hands on it and there would be some room
to spare without counting the head on top of it all.

Suzie leans her head closer to gaze in wide wonder. "Hey Scotty. No more talking."

We have contact! I repeat, we have contact!

Yup.
Still the best thing you’ve ever written.
Nailed the pacing and set up on this one.
And so far, the execution is stellar.
“No more talking.”
This was a massage.
Suzie now sees AND has a hand on Scotty’s penis!
If there’s no more talking, what will happen?