The Mormon Boy

The Mormon Boy

from the net, circa 1998. A bratty teenage boy is stripped and stroked by a gang of girls.

—– This is a story told to me by a lady friend a few years back. The facts and statements of the characters are just as she related them; the names have been changed to protect the innocent and the not-so-innocent. I’ve taken modest literary license to enhance the telling of the tale. —–

My first up-close experience with the private parts of the male species was most unusual. Some backgound…

When I was seven we relocated from the east to a small mining town in central Utah when my father, an engineer, was offered a good job with the mine. Like most of Utah, the population was overwhelmingly Mormon. My first day in school, I was asked if I was LDS (Latter Day Saints, the official name of the religion) so often that felt like I should have been wearing a sign saying I wasn’t! At any rate, my sister and brother and I soon made good friends among the non-Mormon minority and, by virtue of being something of an outgroup, our little gang was real tight all through school. 


The summer after I finished seventh grade, Jodie (a year older) and I were invited to a weekend swim party/sleepover that we were really looking forward to. Our friend Ann was one of the oldest of our gang, almost sixteen at the time, and her parents gave her permission for the get-together while they were away. Ann’s sister, Cindy, was home from college and was to chaperone the affair at their parent’s beautiful home in the country (their dad was a vice-president of the mining company). Thing was, Cindy was ‘cool’ and Ann had titillated us with promises of booze and hints about dirty videos that Cindy brought home from back east! (Ann and Cindy’s family were Jack Mormons – folks with Mormon roots that had strayed from the religion and wanted to enjoy life a little!)

So, on Friday evening, parents dropped off six excited girls age thirteen to sixteen and the fun commenced. It felt real grown-up to be sipping rum and coke with our pizza. And it was appropriate to the meal that the video Ann put on after we changed into our pajamas was about the adventures of a pizza delivery boy! Now, I’d seen my little brother’s weiner often enough when we were growing up and I knew about the birds and bees but I sure wasn’t prepared for the thing that pizza boy took on his rounds! I’m sure I shared the look of shock I saw on Jodie and most of the other girls. As we giggled away at the movie, a couple of the older girls who’d had some experience tried to reassure us that they usually weren’t that big. Though one of them wondered, quite innocently, whether or not penises kept growing when boys got past their teenage years – the pizza ‘boy’ had to have been at least 25. Cindy joined us for a while, and with the sophistication of a college girl informed us that eight inch hardons were common in x-rated movies but in real life it was rare to run across one bigger than six inches. She gave us a fascinating little lecture about the variety of sizes and shapes to be found in male equipment!

At any rate, the video and Cindy’s commentary certainly filled in lots of gaps in our sex education and it was probably 2 am before we finally stopped talking about what’d we’d seen – I drifted off to sleep wondering if I would ever really want one of those things in my mouth! All in all, I was more disgusted than anything else; I sure wasn’t feeling anything sexual. And I knew from our conversation that most of my friends shared my attitude; there were lots of ‘ish!’ and ‘ick!’ comments, especially about the liquid aspects of what we’d seen. I don’t think any of us seventh and eighth graders realized sex was quite so umm… messy. Looking back, I hardly think hardcore porn is the best way to introduce curious young girls to the joys of sex! But I digress…

The next morning, I was a little woozy from the rum and a couple of the girls were in worse shape but we’d all pretty much recovered by the afternoon as we lounged around the pool in the huge fenced-in yard – screwdrivers and rum and cokes in hand. Cindy was enjoying the older sister role as she explained how to drink enough to maintain a nice buzz without getting sick! A friend of hers, Brenda, had joined us for the day, and seemed to really get a kick out of Cindy’s alcohol tutorial. Also, Cindy, Brenda, Ann and Carol were smoking cigarettes but that activity had never really appealed to me.

Alas, it seemed that our fun was about to come to a grinding halt when Cindy came out of the house about two o’clock and told us to clear away the alcohol and cigarettes. She’d just had a call from her aunt; a relative had died and she and her husband needed to get to Salt Lake to catch an airplane. They’d found some folks to take care of their three girls but they were going to drop off their boys in half an hour. The good news was that the younger boy was going to eventually be picked up by a friend’s family; the bad news was that we’d be stuck with his fourteen year old brother for the duration of the weekend.

Unlike Ann and Cindy’s family, their aunt and uncle and their brood were full-blown practicing Mormons. It wouldn’t have been good for them to discover our sinful activities and, despite their liberal beliefs, Ann’s parents certainly wouldn’t have approved of Cindy’s providing booze and smokes to a group of young girls. The problem was compounded by the fact that our uninvited guest, Andy, was a proven goody-goody snitch. He and one of his holy friends managed to get Carol and her boyfriend expelled from school for a week the previous year when they ratted on them for smoking behind the bus garage during a football game. While none of us was pleased about this interruption of our weekend, Carol was really pissed!

The bunch of us did some emergency planning to try to salvage as much of our freedom as possible. Cindy said she’d try to keep Andy away from us and she OK’ed setting up a bar in Ann’s room so we could sneak up there for drinks. She even provided Binaca in case we couldn’t avoid Andy’s presence.

When the boys arrived, they came out to the pool to check things out but soon retired to the den to play video games. However, Andy returned in short order wearing his swim trunks after his brother left. He was completely unimpressed by Cindy’s suggestions that he not interrupt the girls-only party.

Andy was a good looking boy, about five-nine, slender, with a cute face and a nice mop of light brown hair and bright hazel eyes. Unfortunately, his personality hardly matched his appealing physical qualities. I didn’t realize it at the time – and I generally despise stereotypes – but this was a typical rural Mormon young man. Holier than thou about all the don’ts of his religion and an attitude born of generations that women were put on earth to be inferior to men. Even as an adult, I have difficulty describing the nuances of this view of the sexes; suffice it to say that Andy felt like going for a swim that day and the fact that seven females were offended by his presence just didn’t matter. Our tongues loosened by the alcohol, we were hardly shy about expressing our feelings but he just laughed off the disparaging comments. It was almost like we weren’t there.

And he felt entirely free to engage in horseplay with the younger girls in the pool. Despite our protests, he’d grab us and wrestle us under the water; his favorite trick was to sneak up behind you and jab you in the ribs to see how high you’d jump and then pin you against the side of the pool while he tickled you. In retrospect, I suppose this Mormon adolescent was simply taking advantage of his God-given right to cop a feel of feminine flesh when the opportunity presented itself. I guess we could’ve retreated to Ann’s room or somewhere else in the house but it had kind of become a contest of wills to not let him spoil our pool party.

Ann eventually had Cindy come out to tell Andy to knock it off but he just ignored her strongly-worded appeal that he go in the house and let the girls enjoy their party. He cooled it for a while, but soon after Cindy left, he was up to his old tricks. After a booze run to Ann’s room with a couple of other girls, I was half-napping in a lounge chair when I heard a scream. I suppose out of revenge for tattling, Andy had chosen Ann as his next victim. She was sunning herself face down when Andy assaulted her, tickling her sides mercilessly while she hollered and laughed and tried to get up. Once she got free, she used some very un-Mormon language, exhorting the rest of us to ‘get the little shit!’.

There were four of us at the pool and the chase was on. Andy leaped into the pool but quickly jumped out when we went in after him. He was laughing at us as he scurried toward the house but found the entrance blocked by our three friends and Cindy who’d been attracted by the comotion. The other girls joined the pursuit and it wasn’t long before we had the boy pinned to the ground. Thing was, he wasn’t really bothered by this turn of events and didn’t even struggle much; he was still laughing and actually seemed to be enjoying the attention from a gaggle of swimsuit-clad girls. Ann said something about ‘seeing how much you like to be tickled’ and we attacked his belly and sides but to no effect! The damn kid wasn’t ticklish and he was smug as hell that we weren’t going to have our vengeance – it was infuriating!

I’ll tell you, his attitude changed radically when someone suggested ‘try his feet’ and a couple of girls began stroking his soles. His weak spot! He squealed like a stuck pig and began kicking furiously as we struggled to control him. He fought like a demon but it was seven against one and it wasn’t long before we again had him pinned securely in the grass. God, it was great fun to watch the jerk squirm while he laughed uncontrollably and screamed like a little girl! His face was as red as a beet and it looked like the veins in his neck were about to explode! I guess we girls must’ve looked pretty comical too as we jockeyed for position, moving around his body while holding him down to make sure we each got our shot at his sensitive feet. It was during these lapses while we readjusted ourselves that Andy alternately hollered to ‘get off me you bitches!’ or begged us to stop with childish promises to leave us alone. As time passed, the later entreaties became much more common from the now totally abashed boy. Not surprisingly, Cindy and Brenda just stood by with big grins and showed no inclination to intervene.

It’s hard to say how long this went on but events took a startling turn when one of the girls let out a loud drawn out ‘OH MY GAAWD!!’ and pointed at Andy’s crotch. Lordy! Clearly outlined in the wet boxer trunks was a most interesting cylindrical form stretching from the groin to the top of the left hip!. There were squeals of delight when someone shouted ‘he’s got a boner!!’ though I know I and my more naieve friends were in a state of shock to find ourselves suddenly confronted in person by that which we’d seen so graphically depicted in the movie the night before.

Taken aback by this unexpected development, we must’ve relaxed our hold on the boy and he managed to break free. It was just amazing to see Andy’s hard thing bouncing in his swim trunks as he ran the thirty or so yards to the door! Although she was almost beside herself with laughter, Brenda managed to cut off his escape, arriving at the entrance a split second before him. The two of them wrestled for a bit as he tried to push past but as the rest of us arrived, Andy took off across the yard.

Another chase ensued, this one longer than the first since the kid now truly wanted to escape. Nevertheless, he was soon in our grasp, struggling desperately on his stomach and then doubled up to prevent us from examining his crotch. I think we all sighed in disappointment when we finally got him turned over and straightened out to discover a small lump where something much larger and more interesting had been so recently. Grabbing the kid’s left foot, Ann announced that she knew how to ‘bring his hardon back’. Almost simultaneously, Carol shouted ‘Let’s take his trunks off!!’

Ahh… now there was a suggestion to give one pause! Though he’d appeared pretty worn out from his exertions, Andy suddenly found new energy, struggling frantically lest the unthinkable come to pass. He threatened and begged, pleaded and threatened as we hesitated. I’m sure we all knew what we wanted to do but feared crossing some line. As one of the junior partners in this venture, I realized that others would make the final decision; I could only hope at the outcome! I don’t remember anyone saying much of anything and Ann eventually looked inquiringly to our chaperone. I recall Cindy’s words verbatim as she passed sentence on her cousin: “Do what you want; the brat’s got it coming! He’s not gonna tell his daddy he let a bunch of girls get him bare naked.” A panicked Andy screamed, “I will so tell!!” but Cindy sealed his fate with her cool reply, “Then I’ll tell your mom that you exposed yourself to the little ones. She’ll believe me; she thinks my shit don’t smell.” Now, I’d never heard that last phrase before and, given the nervous tension of the moment, I cracked up uncontrollably. It took a disgusted look from my sister to let me know that I was embarassing myself!

After her pronouncement, Cindy took Brenda’s arm and ushered her toward the house, figuring that we were entitled to some privacy in our little adventure and probably wanting to be able to intercept any unexpected visitors who might wander back to the pool. Brenda obviously wanted to stay for the festivities but went willingly after Cindy whispered something to her. We learned later from Ann that the two of them watched everything from Cindy’s window.

Anyway, Ann and Carol were running the show and after the older girls left there was only a moment’s delay before Carol untied the drawstring of Andy’s trunks and started yanking them down. The boy just kept hollering ‘No! No! No!’ while shaking his blushing head violently back and forth as we watched Carol’s efforts wide-eyed. The poor kid let out the strangest groaning noise as his privates came into the view of seven curious females lusting for revenge! It took a bit of struggling with the boy’s scissoring legs before Ann, located at the south end of our victim, took over from her compatriot and managed to work Andy’s shorts off his feet.

We were all giggling to beat the band as the now-naked boy continued to try to fight us, tears starting to roll down his crimson cheeks from tightly shut eyes. Inevitably, the comments started… I have to admit that I was quite puzzled by what I was looking at. I just couldn’t reconcile the pudgy wrinkled worm that wriggled around in the squirming boy’s groin with the outline that had been so prominently displayed not long before. Jodie and I exchanged glances, our sisterly non-verbal communication confirming that I was not alone in my confusion. Chalk it up to the porn film and its typical insistence on showing the male member only in its aggressive state; we’d never seen pizza boy with a real softie and were ignorant of the disparity that can exist between relaxed and aroused… A similarly innocent friend expressed these thoughts out loud, “But it’s so little!” Carol and Ann cracked up and taunted the supremely embarassed boy about his little weiner, puny pickle, etc.

There’s no doubt that these two were enjoying the hell out of tormenting the tormentor and it wasn’t long before Ann acted on her promise to ‘make it bigger’, tickling away at the feet that had already betrayed the boy once that day. Oh how he laughed and screamed and cried, all at the same time! The whole while his bottom bounced up and down, his dick and balls flipping and flopping every which way! His thing had indeed started to thicken and grow when Carol, saying something about ‘another ticklish place’, shocked us all by reaching under the kid’s plump testicles. Ann stopped tickling and we all stared in awe as Carol’s fluttering fingers worked their magic, Andy’s penis stretching gradually toward his belly button while he moaned softly, eyes jammed closed trying to block out what was happening to him!

Ever the brave one, Carol then gently took the boy’s stiff thing in her hand and pried it away from his belly, showing off her handiwork to the rest of us as we craned our necks to examine the trophy from various angles. Not nearly the dimensions of pizza boy but fascinating nevertheless – a thick five inches curving slightly to the side, pink-white with a grayish area under the fat funny-looking mushroom head that flared from the shaft much more than the one in the movie. Yet another round of laughter erupted when Carol suddenly let go and the thing bounced off its owner’s belly with a fleshy WHOP! There was hesitation among us neophytes when Carol suggested we have a feel and someone used this pause in the action to suggest we move from the hot afternoon sun to a shady spot. I think it was Ann who made a crack about not wanting Andy to get a painful sunburn as we lifted the humiliated kid to his feet and worked him toward the trees at the edge of the yard.

Andy didn’t have much fight left in him at this point and he mumbled ‘please’ a lot as he implored us to let him go. It was really something to see the nude boy’s stiffie pointing skyward, wagging and wobbling lewdly as he feebly resisted our pulling and shoving. And I couldn’t help following Jodie’s lead when I saw her brushing the grass and dirt off Andy’s derriere. As good an excuse as any to cop a curious feel of the cute white bottom that jutted out provocatively as he tried to hold back; I was intrigued to discover that I could see his balls from behind, all hangy-downy, jiggling between his legs.

Once we had Andy affixed to the grass in the shade, Carol gave his slightly wilted boner a few rubs to restore it to its full glory and invited the rest of us to join in. More hesitation, giggling, and mutual daring before, one by one, we took her up on her offer. Such an experience as we embarassedly felt and exchanged shy comments about penis and testicles; I swear our faces were every bit as red as our victim’s! Andy had grown quiet by this time, more from shock and exhaustion than stoicism. So we were quite startled when our examination was interrupted by a strangled ‘Aaaargh!!’; one of our group had gotten a bit too aggressive in her fondling of his balls! Needless to say, I found the whole affair quite exciting, though not really sexual in the way I’d later experience such feelings. It was the excitement of the new and forbidden; I was enthralled by the soft skin on the hard dick, hot to the touch, the rubbery head, the delicate nuts in their strange wrinkled sack, the patch of dark brown pubic hair not unlike my own. … And I truly enjoyed the humiliation of the cocky, selfish boy, naked and at our mercy as we explored his unwanted arousal!

We continued to play with the boy’s stuff with only Ann abstaining – the incest taboo preventing such intimate contact with a first cousin, I suppose. Eventually, Carol motioned probing hands from the kid’s groin, took the jutting erection in her fist and began to pump rhythmically. Excited whispers among the assemblage, “She’s jacking him off!!”, “Will it squirt?”… And Andy again found his voice, a halting, guttural, “Don’t… do… that…!” I could feel his body stiffen as I manned my position, pressing his thigh to the ground.

I was expecting something to happen quickly and was surprised when it didn’t… We looked on with rapt silence, broken only by a sporadic groan from Andy, as Carol continued her stroking. When her arm grew tired and she released the phallus, I couldn’t resist reaching over to touch the organ that had become a shiny redish purple. Reflexively, I yanked my hand back when the fascinating thing jumped off the boy’s belly and quivered in the air! Another round of excited giggles circled the kid as others repeated my gesture and we marveled at the effect. None of us had the nerve to imitate Carol’s actions and she eventually picked up where she left off. There were some excited squeals when a drop of fluid escaped the hole at the organ’s end and moistened the swollen head, but Ann explained that this wasn’t the main event, “Boys dribble before they shoot”.

Again weary, Carol shook the cramp from her hand, readjusted her position and gripped the boy once more, this time holding the turgid penis between her thumb and three fingers – you could see the skin sliding up and down the shaft as she resumed the masturbation. With a husky voice, she told one of the girls to play with the balls and it wasn’t long before Andy started a cadence of throaty moaning-grunting. His head was cocked back, teeth clenched, eyes still closed tightly. I felt him tighten even more and out of the corner of my eye I could see his toes splaying as he strained against the girls holding his ankles. As Carol quickened her movements, the boy’s rear lifted off the grass and the first jet of viscous liquid spurted from the vibrating purple plum above Carol’s hand! Then another… and another… four or five, arching high into the air and splattering the boy’s belly and chest before a series of lesser emissions flowed over Carol’s slowing fingers.

Mesmerized by the display, no one said anything for a long while… Carol wiped her hand nonchalantly in the grass and then headed toward the pool and towels for a more thorough cleaning. Andy’s body had gone limp and he just lied there with his chest rising and falling, his still-purple member shrinking to lie shriveled and slick with semen atop his similarly drenched pubic hair. One of the girls eventually muttered an awed “Wow!” and another giggled, “It’s like Old Faithful!” – annointing Andy with a nickname that our little group would use forever after. …You see, the porn flick hadn’t prepared us for Andy’s performance; pizza boy was an oozer, not a shooter, and our mentors neglected to educate us about the variabiity of male physiology.

Andy eventually opened his eyes; his crimson face scrunched up comically as he raised his head and surveyed his cum-soaked torso. Looking as if he was rousing himself from a bad dream, he wobbled to his feet once he realized that we were no longer restraining him. He stood clumsily, hesitated in a moment of wild-eyed disorientation, then jammed his hands into his sticky crotch. The final giggles of the afternoon accompanied Andy’s hunched-over bare-naked scurry across the lawn to the safety of the back door!

In the moments after Andy’s orgasm, an uncomfortable reality settled on the group. The look on Carol’s face as she returned reflected the vague sense of guilt and shame that we felt. The effect of the alcohol that had facillitated the events of the day was wearing off; let’s face it, without the booze things never would’ve gone past the depantsing stage if we’d even dared to go that far! So we didn’t talk much about what had transpired as we passed the rest of the weekend quietly; heck, we even chose a Disney film for Saturday night’s entertainment. Needless to say, there were no further intrusions from Andy…

A few weeks later, Ann allayed any residual fears we might have had that there’d be some consequence for our pool-party activities. She’d seen her cousin at a family gathering and assured us that he was still a ‘cocky shithead’ who would never admit to what had happened. Once school started we heard that he was spreading stories about getting hand-jobs from the gentile (non-Mormon) girls over the summer. Who knows, he might even have convinced himself of his version of events – a reasonable defense against an occurrence that would’ve traumatized a normally sensitive fourteen year old boy. Though he tried to maintain his leering posture when he was with his buddies, Andy couldn’t make eye contact with any of us who’d participated in his humiliation. And I have to credit Jodie with coming up with the line that was guaranteed to send her classmate hurrying away from any gathering of kids at school: “Been to Yellowstone lately?” Ha!!

A footnote to this episode (pun intended)… A couple of years later, one of our gang who was working on the school paper inserted an item in the gossip column addressed to Andy’s Mormon girlfriend: “We heard you were disappointed in your last date with A.G. A little birdie tells us that if you tickle his feet things will be looking up in no time!”

—– So ends my friend’s little story. Alas, this adventure didn’t really engender in her a full-blown preference for things dominant – though she admitted that she would’ve enjoyed repeating the incident with more than one insensitive pig she’d run across in her dating life. Nevertheless, she respected my predilections and my appreciation of her early experience. We played ‘Andy’ more than once before our brief, pleasant association ended by mutual consent…

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