Babysitting Craig

I started babysitting an 11-year old kid named Craig when I was 16-years old. I was still a virgin in the technical sense of the meaning, and my only experience with a girl was limited to having my boner rubbed through my pants. One girl actually made me cum in my pants when I was 14, but I don’t think that she realized what she had done.

I had done more with other boys in the neighborhood when I was around Craig’s age, but that seemed to stop just before, or shortly after puberty. Some of them began to realize that it was sort Gay to do things like comparing the size of our boners, or play games of truth-or-dare that always lead to the removal of clothing. We should have just called the game “dare” because I don’t recall any of my little playmates selecting “truth.” It was always somthing along the lines of:

“I dare you to pull your weenie out and rub it with my G.I. Joe.”

-or-

“I dare to pull your pants down and hump my leg for 2 whole minutes.”

It wasn’t even until I started babysitting Craig that I realized that I mostly masturbated to memories of the naked little games I used to play with my friends when we where little. I missed that feeling of shear excitement as we said all of the things to let the other know that we wanted to play those secret games. I don’t think that we knew what “horny” meant. We just knew that it was something that we both wanted to do, and that there was a scripted dialog that we’d have to go through to get there. It was like a pre-game that we played in order to get to the game we really wanted to play.

I fondly refer to this pre-game as: “Wadda-U- Wanna -Do?” because those are the very words that where like the starter pistol at a relay race. Once they where spoken, we where off and running! Medophorically of course.

Craig was the spitting image of my friend Danny when he was 11-years old. He was one of my best and longest lasting playmates. We carried on with our naked little games long after pubic hair arrived, and our dicks started squirting semen all over one or the other’s bedroom. But after Danny was halfway to his 15th birthday, he delivered the news that I had hoped wouldn’t come.

“I got a girlfriend now dude! – I don’t need to do that stuff anymore.” Was the jist of what he was trying to tell me. I have to give him credit because he wasn’t mean about it, and I’m pretty sure that he sensed my sadness over it. But I kept my chin up and even made up stories about a girl who lived next door to my cousin. I was always careful to make them sound believable, but at the very same moment that I was telling him these tails, I would be wondering how much his dick had grown since the last time I had seen it. I had mental images of who much more pubic hair he might have sprouted, and how much lower his nuts must be hanging by now

Then I’d run home and masturbate myself into a frothy mess of creamy cum. I would coat my body from down around my belly button, to well passed my nipples. I’d just lay there and rest without bothering to wipe up my mess. I’d just go at it all over again, and drop the second load all over the first. And on a rare ocassion, I’d drop a third load all over the first and second. Without any real interest in girls, and no male friends who cared for the naked games of youth, I became a chronic masturbator. I don’t mean that I jacked-off a few times a week, or even daily like some teenage boys. I was out of control, and if my dick couldn have dial a telephone, it would have called the cop’s on me for sure.

When I would babysit Craig, he was only allowed to have one particular friends over that his mom thought was a nice boy. His name was Kevin, and he was a little closer to 12 then Craig was, and he was also not fooling me like we was Craig’s mom. He was a total “Eddied Haskell” to Craig’s mom’s face, but when it was just he and Craig alone, I could hear his foul language even with Craig’s bedroom door closed.

“Come on you fucker! – stop cheating asshole or I’ll go home!” He’d shout.

I wondered how Craig and Kevin would respond if I started cussing like they did. So up the stairs I went, and I could hear cuss words all the way from down the hall. I walked right through the door.

“Okay you little fuckers! Listen up! – I don’t give a fuck if you cuss and call each other dicks, pricks, and asshole all day long. Just do me a little fucking favor and do it more quietly. I’m trying to do my fucking homework and I can’t concentrate with you two little dick heads up here trying to outcuss each other. Now repeat after me – We fucking promise to be a little fucking quiter!

“We’ll be quiter.” They both nearly whispered with eyes as wide as saucers.

“No!