A Teens Sinister Plan to Seduce a Friend

Poster's notes

This is a story originally by a friend of mine. On his behalf (because for some reason, he couldn't get an account here), I'm posting it here. He reckons people who read here might like it too.

While waiting for the next chapter of my friend's series "Webcam Boys" (which admittedly is taking WAY LONGER THAN EXPECTED), I decided to post another of his stories here to make up for the long wait.

What follows is a true event that happened to my friend when he was younger, and he wrote it first in his sort of journal first. When he got better at writing, he polished it and kept the story truthful to what really happened, except for the added ending which makes it look like he was sending a letter to someone.

Only my friend's name was changed for the sake of the story. The story is written with flashbacks. Italics represent a flashback while normal font represents the present time.

He highly appreciates feedback, criticism and encourages people to spot any typos or errors and if you wish to email him he's at:

horn1269@gmail.com

I hope you enjoy his story.

Posted here for your convenience is a link to my author's page, so you can see his other works and also mine.

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|The Plan|

It was simple enough, well, not really…It was one of the most convoluted plans I’ve ever created in my entire life. The only simple things about it would be how it could all go wrong. He might not come, he might want to do something else, he might not be keen to the idea, and he might get suspicious. So many possibilities for failure! But this opportunity means so much to me that I’ve taken pains to actually devise an elaborate strategy the likes of which I’ve never conceived in my young life.

***

“Don’t worry, he’ll be here in a minute” Marcus said while impatiently glancing at his watch. My young friend slash protégé had arranged a meeting between me and another potential recruit…that is to say, an interested player who wanted to learn the game from me. I felt a feeling of…what was it, nostalgia? It was only a year or so ago that I taught Marcus how to play the game and now he’s the one introducing to his friends the joys of our sport. I guess thirteen-year olds are much more inclined to receive word of mouth persuasion than my own fifteen year-old peers.

Then I saw the new kid come by. Nostalgia—this time I was sure that was it—hit me like lightning. Apparently the case was the same for him since both of us shouted, “Hey, it’s you?!” at the same time. We didn’t need introductions. I knew this kid, his name was Josh. We used to be in the same school bus when we were still both in grade school. I used to play around with him and the other younger kids up until I was in sixth grade. I changed schools in middle school and I never saw him again. Well, until now. I last saw him as a bratty fourth grader. Now at 13, he easily beat my respectable 5’2” by three inches. His cheekbones were fleshed out and gave his face a mature feel that would make you think he was older. He had that air of adolescent swagger that wasn’t too overbearing, just enough for him to assert his maturity. Between the two of us, I was more the kid…and I was 15.

“Josh, you’ve…grown.”

“Gerry ….you…look the same.”

“Cheeky bastard!”, I retorted, and the three of us laughed. Soon after, Josh, Marcus and I were chatting it up and I got to teach Josh the basics of our little hobby, until I got him good enough to play. I was still kind of reeling from the apparent randomness of our meeting; either that or it was just fatefully ironic. Either way, I was thrilled to have re-met an old friend.

****

It’s already one o’ clock. Is he coming or not? Everything has to go according to the plan. It has to be this day. Either it happens today or not at all.

First, we’ll play some games, the PS3 maybe? Then we’ll play cards, on the pretext of seeing how much he learned from me. Maybe eat a bit later…then, at 6, it happens…then in my room…and then the masterstroke…so to speak.

My dad’s outside talking on the phone with his contacts. Good, that means he’s accounted for later. My brother’s taking a bath for his date; just as planned, he’ll be out of the way. Mom’s at work, my sister’s at a friend’s house…all I need now is for him to come…

*ding dong*

The doorbell! Alright. That’s him, it’s showtime.

****

“I do it every night! And you?” I bragged with a mischievous grin. Marcus, Josh and I were just walking home from the courts when I suddenly decided to open up my favourite topic of conversation.

“Uh…of course I do, shut up!” Marcus blushed heavily. Though he’s not new to my jibes, he always was still shy about rather…personal topics such as this.

Unknown to no one but complete strangers, I’m the stereotypical class pervert. Every conversation that includes me will inevitably lead towards discussions referencing more than your average amount of smut. In fact, all my friends and classmates knew my perversions so well, nearly every word I say, as long as it came from my mouth in my voice, sounded perverted to them. Carrot, finger, rod, fork…you name it. Heck, sometimes I just smile and they already think I’m undressing them with my eyes. But of course, I did all my jokes within the reasonable bounds of decency. I never push if they’re not open to such things…so to speak. That said, it’s no surprise that my closest friends, especially the ones that play the game with me like Marcus and, recently, Josh, have regular exposure to my adult-oriented humor.

“I don’t” Josh said suddenly. He caught my attention just as I was laughing at Marcus’ flustered and reddening face.

“Bullshit” I said. My look of incredulity said it all. Marcus stopped being a red tomato to look at Josh too.
“No, really, I don’t, and never have” Well, he couldn’t get more final than that.

“But all boys do it at this age!” I protested.

“Not me.”

“But you’ll get blue balls!”

“I never get them.”

Josh was unbreakable. Any further attempts to crack his alibi didn’t work. I was restless afterwards. Boys can’t not go without doing it! For one thing, we have a constant need to replace our ball juice every now and then conscious or not. But Josh said no to wet dreams too. Can’t get blue balls?! Over my dead ass. I knew he was fibbing through his teeth. He’s gotta be, right? It’s just impossible.

I’m determined more than ever to get him to fess up. And it’s not just a matter of curiosity either. I’m doing it to make a point.

***

“Sorry, Gerry, I woke up late…” Josh said as he removed his shoes.

“Nah, no problem…so uh…what do you want to do?” Quite unlike me to be so tense…but I had a tendency of looking and sounding overeager. I didn’t want to seem like ‘you know what’ was the only thing I had in mind for him…even though it’s completely true. Just a few more hours….

He opted to play Assassin’s Creed Revelations for a while. I just watched as he amused himself by playing with Ezio in a way that would make the assassin master want to commit suicide in shame.

“Haha! See what I did? I’m so awesome!” Josh said in genuine pride.

I just patronized him encouragingly even though his achievement consisted of a kill streak any player worth his controller would be able to do. He wasn’t even playing this game for the first time; he’s been telling me the past few days how he’d play it every day at his place.

Thing was, Josh was always rather simple minded. I couldn’t quite describe it fully, it’s just that he has an ego that was inflated to the point of occasionally being obnoxious, but at the same time, it was predictable. He had a habit of glorifying himself in some way, often with fantastically fictitious feats or fundamentally simple things or what have you…and either he actually believes it or he’s really fibbing through his teeth.
Maybe it was just his budding boy superiority complex, I dunno. But for all his swagger, he was easily flattered. Well, to me he was. A one track mind…is that how they call it? You could easily get him to your side with a bit of prodding. A little praise, encouragement, agreement, sympathy…Josh was simple, predictable…exploitable.

Wait did I just say that? Note to self: stop internalizing action movie villains. ‘Cuz for one thing, it’s the heroes, not the villains, who get laid.

***

My assumption was that Josh, like most boys who weren’t me, that is to say, nearly everyone below my age, was still shy as hell to reveal anything even remotely related to the insides of his shorts. A reasonable fear, and one that I’ve had experience overcoming. Once I’ve chatted up a friend considerably, I could get them to talk about their innermost details, if you will. Actually, if I had a logbook of all my private conversations with friends regarding their privates, I’d have a catalogue of about 12 boys’ dick sizes, cum schedules and cum disposal methods (if applicable). The common factor was…they were all one on one conversations.

So I guess that was it…Josh was too shy only because Marcus was there with us at the time. And that’s why tonight, I’m chatting it up with Josh online. I swear, by

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THE END