in certain situations toes begin to sweat

tall and slender,
blonde and good-looking,
the big-dicked blue-eyed boy
sometimes beats off 3 or 4 times a day,
maybe more.
this seems like a lot to him, and he wonders
if other boys beat off that much.
but he's too shy to ask anybody.
he washes the washrag he spurts his
cum into at the sink in the bathroom that
adjoins his room,
and often the washrag has
no time to dry out between uses,
and is still damp
when he spurts fresh cum into it.
3 or 4 times a day sure seems like a lot to him.
now,
he sits in his desk at school
in algebra ii class
and he thinks about
being at home in his room lying on his back
on his bed on top of his smooth soft light blue bedspread
beating off
and while he's thinking about
that,
his dick gets hard, and as he
sits there in algebra ii class aware
that his dick is hard and waiting for it to get
soft,
he is looking at the back
of the neck
of bruce macheson the star swimmer on the high
school swim team,
looking at the broad shoulders of bruce macheson,
looking at the backs of the ears of bruce macheson
he sits there looking at bruce macheson,
listens to formulae and the scrape of chalk,
wishing he were home in his own bedroom
on top of his light blue bedspread,
a little bothered by the thought
that bruce macheson might be
there in his bedroom, too,
a bit troubled to find his thoughts tentatively
prodding the possibility of bruce macheson, naked,
sitting on top of the soft blue bedspread,
bruce macheson naked and smooth beyond any sensible
expectation for smoothness,
bruce macheson's smooth muscular butt pressed tight
against the soft blue bedspread,
the smooth, little-nippled bruce macheson chest waiting
to be gently and
brazenly
licked.
he is disturbed by thoughts
of this nature in regard
to bruce macheson.
he stares at the pink
backs of bruce macheson's
sexy compact ears.
he wonders just how many times a day
bruce macheson
beats off.
at that instant, bruce macheson turns around,
looks at him
squarely in the eyes,
and softly says
"three."  then,
bruce macheson
winks
knowledgeably, with
genuine
affection,
and that's when all those
toes really
begin to sweat.

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem appeared in FUCK!, Vol 2, No 12, December 1999.)