A Comedy of AR's

by: Sammderr | Story In Progress | Last updated Apr 19, 2024


Chapter 88
The Butterflies are Building Up


Chapter Description: Images for this story can be found at the following web...... https://sites.google.com/view/comedy-ars-characters/home


With Sammantha now an adult once again, Paul quite willingly relinquished parental control over his daughter.  Everyone was thrilled to see us back in our own bodies … and oh, did I look forward to jacking off again.

 

I was giddy, acting like Sammantha did, the first day she had a penis.  When Daniel dropped us off at the apartment, I quickly ran to my room (the boy’s room) and stripped naked.  Looking at my penis in the full length mirror was like meeting up with an old friend.  I slapped it around back and forth.  It felt great.

 

Sammantha knocked on my bedroom door and or course I let her in.  I sported a big smile.

 

And I squealed out, “Hi Mom! … remember me?”

 

She chuckled and asked the nude little boy with the tall boner, “What are you doing, sweety?”

 

I responded, “Mom, can I please have an hour to play before we go shopping for school clothes?”

 

“Of course you can.  I think I know the feeling you’re going through.”

 

“I’m sorry I took your penis back.”

 

“I’m not, sweety.  I discovered the hard way that my career is far more important than what’s between my legs.  And since you’re going to school soon, you probably should refrain from drawing on it again with the sharpie marker.  A middle school locker room is nothing like a St. Thomas nudie fest.”

 

I answered, “I know,” and then gently closed the door.

 

I ‘boinged’ my toy like a spring.  Then I did 25 jumping jacks in front of the mirror and felt it slap against my tummy as my big head of hair flopped up and down.  I thought about how all those middle-school kids would be laughing at me if they could see what I was doing now.

 

I rubbed my penis against bunny rabbit, and I hit it with a ruler again.  Then I laid on the bed and whacked my butt with the same ruler.  After that, I smacked my balls till it hurt a little bit but not too much. 

 

This was so fun.  Why go to school when I can just play with my penis all day?  I let my erection go down and then grabbed the closet bar to do a leg-lift coregasm … but let go before I climaxed.  I wanted to spend at least the whole hour playing in my room with my long lost friend.  Sorry girls, you can keep your tampons and multiple orgasms.  Nothing beats having a boy toy.

 

When it went flat again, I played the bubble game, forcing air into my urethra and turning my scrotum into a croaking frog.  Sammantha’s patients must have been really smart to think up these games.  There are almost no boys who know about them.

 

I think I was twelve now and wanted to find out if I had any semen yet … and if so, I wanted to taste it.  I laid down on my back, I put my head on my pillow and lifted the rest of my body upward.  So I was in a position like Pele’s bicycle kick in soccer. 

 

I could never figure out why male dogs could lick their own dicks but male boys could not.  I brought my legs up and over my head so that my penis was about ten inches from my waiting open mouth.  It was like a monster staring at me.

 

The buildup of pressure in my groin felt so good.  I stopped rubbing when I knew that the process was on its way without me helping.  The whole feeling struck me like that stun gun did last night.  And here comes the point of no return …

 

“No!  no!  no!  no!  no!”

 

And I came.  It wasn’t a lot … and my aim wasn’t the best.  There was more gunk on my face.  But I did get a taste of it and wasn’t sure what to think … not good, not bad … just a bit salty.  I wouldn’t order it in a restaurant.

 

So why did I cum if I was only twelve and not thirteen like in my first childhood?  I’m still thinking that the seawater in St. Thomas may have altered my body chemistry.

 

Sammantha knocked on my door and said, “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.”

 

I answered, “Stop teasing, Mom.”

 

“Your hour’s up,” she replied.  “Don’t play with it in any of your classes.”

 

“Okay, I’m getting dressed.”

 

 

 

 

 

This was actually pretty exciting.  I liked the feel of my twelve-year-old body.  I didn’t feel at all like a grownup in miniaturized form.  If Freud was around he would have said that my ‘id’ or unconscious personality was locked in as a child and I was happy about that.  My ‘ego’ or conscious thoughts were gung-ho to test out this child’s new life experiences.

 

Our first stop was the JC Penny store at the Walden Galleria which wasn’t too far away.  Clothing wise, I just wanted to fit in with all the other kids in the seventh grade.  Sammantha and I combed the aisles in the boys’ department for the ‘back-to-school’ sales.  They were pretty busy today.

 

“Mom, I’d like to start with getting a variety of Tees … round, v-neck, solid, patterns, and a few with three buttons and a collar … oh, and some long sleeves too.”

 

“Okay, and you might also want to consider a zippered hoodie and a couple button-down shirts.  You won’t have to tuck them in.”

 

“Oh yeah … and since it’s summer, I should get another pair of cargo shorts.  What about fall?  Maybe a pair of khakis … and some denim jeans.”

 

“Do you want ‘distressed’ jeans, sweety?”

 

“No, I won’t say anything at school, but I think they look like ‘poor’ kids when they wear torn up pants with a bunch of holes … stupid fad.”

 

“My dad used to get his sewn back up if he made a hole.  Anyway, don’t you need a couple new pairs of sneakers too?”

 

I had to think about that one for a few seconds.  “Mom, I normally don’t care about brands, but if I’m trying to fit in, maybe I should get like a Nikes or Converse.”

 

Sammantha and I were on a mission.  I had never before shopped for clothes so quickly … and it was now on to Walmart for school supplies.

 

“Sweety, your school’s online site recommends a 7th grade starter kit … pens, pencils, calculator, highlighter, markers, scissors, college ruled paper, and earbuds … I guess they’ll assign you a chromebook when you get to school.”

 

“Let’s not forget my backpack.”

 

 

 

 

 

The following morning was ‘D-day’.  Sammantha had scheduled a 10 am appointment for us to meet with the principal and the football coach.

 

“Are you sure you’re ready for this, sweety?”

 

“You said being nervous was normal, Mom.”

 

“So is your self-confidence.  I know you too well.  And you look really nice in your khaki’s and polo shirt.”

 

“Mom, do you think anyone else is world history has ever done this before?  I mean, is it really okay to fool people?”

 

“Sweety, we don’t really know how many other people Queenemma Allred has cursed besides you and Daniel.  And don’t think of it as ‘fooling people’.  You have a good heart.  Go with the idea that the lives of all those other kids will be better because you were part of it.”

 

“Thanks, Mom … It’s time to let out all those butterflies in my stomach.

 

 

 

 

 

The middle school secretary guided us down the inner hall to the principal’s office and knocked on the door.  We were greeted by two professionals, a large African American man and a bespectacled Caucasian woman.

 

“Welcome!  Welcome!” the woman pointed the way toward her desk with a large smile.  “I’m Dr. Tiffany Glass, Principal of the Jerry Sandusky Middle School … Our school motto is ‘We fill our students with knowledge … and a whole lot more’.”

 

Sammantha offered a hand.  “Pleased to meet you.  I’m Dr. Sammantha Adams, clinical psychologist, and this is my son, Derrek.”

 

“Pleased to meet you, Ma’am,” I followed with a ‘medium’ firm handshake.

 

The principal continued, “And this is our seventh grade football coach, Mr. Icy Parker.”

 

I boldly stepped forward and gave the man’s hand the hardest squeeze of his life (that a twelve-year-old could muster) … along with my confident smile.  “Pleased to meet you, Coach Parker.  I’m looking forward to playing football for you.”  (It never ceases to amaze me that kids are never taught the proper way to shake hands with adults.  First impressions are so important.)

 

“Hmm … that’s quite a grip, young man,” he responded.

 

“Okay, why don’t we all sit down and get busy,” said the principal.  “I understand from our call that you would like to enroll Derrek in the seventh grade?”

 

“Yes, he’s been home-schooled up to this point, but he’s been begging me to let him play school sports, so I finally gave in.”

 

“Have you played football before, son?” asked the coach.

 

“Oh, yes, sir … against her,” I said, pointing my thumb at Sammantha.

 

That drew a bit of laughter from all the adults, with the coach adding, “Well, considering it looks like your mom has spent a lot of time in the gym, I would consider her a worthy opponent for you.”

 

“Derrek, what are your favorite subjects?” asked the principal.

 

I answered abstractly, “Dr. Glass, if I’m allowed to attend school here, I promise I’ll work really hard in all my classes.  My mom was a very strict teacher at home.  So I know what will happen to my sports if I don’t get good grades.”

 

“What sports do you want to play, Derrek?” asked Coach Parker.

 

“The big ones, Coach … football, basketball, baseball … but I like football best.”

 

“Do you have a position in mind?”

 

“Oh yeah.  I want to play safety.  I’m really fast, and I’m not afraid to hit people.”

 

“Is this true, Mom?” the coach asked Sammantha.

 

“Very true,” she agreed.  “Would you like to see my bruises?”

 

After more chuckling, the coach replied, “No, I think I’ll take your word on it.”

 

“Okay, Derrek,” said the principal.  “Why don’t we set you up a schedule?  You seem quite intelligent, so instead of general math, would you prefer pre-algebra?”

 

“Yes, Ma’am.”

 

“And for foreign language, we offer Spanish, French, and Chinese.”

 

“Can I take Spanish Two, please?”

 

“You’re sure you want to be in a class with eighth graders?  So you already ‘habla’ a little ‘espanol’?”

 

“Si, Senora.”

 

“Okay … English is mandatory … And if you’re playing sports, you don’t have to take gym, but we’ll still assign you health class.”

 

“Yes, Ma’am.”

 

“Okay, and you’re social studies class in seventh grade is geography.  Now for science, you have a choice, the regular class or pre-biology.  How do you feel about dissecting a frog?”

 

Sammantha broke in, “Derrek has only dissected chicken parts at KFC.”

 

“Mom,” I said, annoyed.  “I can do it … Dr. Glass, will I have a lab partner?”

 

“Yes, you will, Derrek.  Does that seal the deal?”

 

“Yes, Ma’am.”

 

“I’ll be honest, Derrek.  That’s a demanding schedule.  But after talking with you here today, I really believe you can handle it.  I’ll send your mom the schedule in her email.”

 

“Derrek,” said Coach Parker, “before you can play sports, you’ll need to take your physical at the high school.  Can you be at the nurses clinic at 10 am tomorrow?”

 

I looked at Sammantha.  She nodded.

 

“Good, just ask for Nurse TiteRench.”

 

Principal Glass concluded, “Great!  Then we’re all done here.  Dr. Adams, Derrek, thank you so much for coming in this morning.”

 

“Wait!” I called out.  Then I looked at Sammantha.  “Mom, we still have to discuss the elephant in the room.”

 

 

 

 

 


 

End Chapter 88

A Comedy of AR's

by: Sammderr | Story In Progress | Last updated Apr 19, 2024

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