Matthew tore the glasses off and sat up in the bed. He was thrusting forward with his groin, trying to come, but he hadn’t come. That was Lukas’ orgasm. He threw the bedclothes off him and found his cock. Precum had been dripping all over his stomach, and he had been going crazy in the bed, caught in the paralysis of sleep, trying to come, but not being able to move. He tugged on his cock, realised he had Lukas’ jocks on his head, his Superman jocks stretched over his balls. He felt down for his balls and cupped them. There was no way he was hurting his balls, but he had squeezed Lukas’ so hard. Man, he could have burst them.

Matthew jerked quickly with three rapid jerks.

And came.

It was always like this. He didn’t know why Lukas had to make such a big fuss out of the whole thing. You just pulled yourself a couple of times, and came. And sometimes he didn’t even need to do that.

Once, in Science class, he had come in his pants just by straddling the pole in the middle of the bench and pressing against it while he sat on the stool. There had been guys all around him. The teacher had been talking about some crap, and Matthew had just sat there, hardly moving himself, quietly coming while no one knew. It had felt unreal.

He got out of bed quickly and peeled Lukas’ jocks off, pulled them off his head, and peeled the others over his thighs, his feet.

He was so much bigger than Lukas. His body was so big, so powerful, compared to Lukas’. The muscles in his arms, his biceps, and the depth of his chest.

Matthew bundled up the jocks and thrust them back in the drawer. The sunglasses. The pills. He put it all away. Turned off the strobe and opened the curtains.

Sunlight hit him like a wall, and he realised how woozy he was. He scratched his abs and his chest and looked out at the garden. Everything was ablaze with colour. Unreal. The flowers blooming, the hedge impossibly green. The sky streaked with white, feathery clouds. It was like something from a movie.

And his mother was down there. What was she doing? Clipping the hedge with a pair of clippers. She usually paid someone to do that. She was wearing a straw hat and it was ruffling in the wind.

Matthew wondered if it had been raining. Everything looked so clean and fresh, as though it were rainwashed, as though there were dark clouds on the horizon, and everything was lit by a bright sun underneath them.

But it hadn’t been raining, no. The ground was dry.

He felt naked, looking down at his mother when he knew he was standing at his window naked, though she wouldn’t have been able to see below his waist if she had looked up. Still, he felt naked, standing there.

He turned around, and felt himself sway.

He was out of it, he realised, and there was come dripping it out of his cock. He wiped it away with his hand and went into the bathroom where he washed his hands and looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes were huge, like saucers. And his skin looked unreal, like he was glowing with a healthy tan. He scratched his hand over his chest, over his hard, dark nipples, and felt himself getting hard again, just looking at himself. He looked fantastic.

He pulled his cock up so he could see it in the mirror. He had just come, and already he was hard again.

And he was so fucking big!

Compared to Lukas, man, that was a joke, how big he was. He started to pull himself, squeezing his cock hard and watching the precum oozing out of it like he had never seen it before. It was dribbling out, like drool.

Oh, man.

He felt like jacking something up his arse, like Lukas had done yesterday. He picked up his deodorant and spit on the top of it. The lid was rounded, and it was a little bottle, shaped like a bullet. He wiped some precum over the top of it and used one hand to stick it up underneath him while he used the other hand to pull his cock.

Oh, man. Just the feeling of that thing against his arsehole felt unreal. He pressed it, pressuring it as hard as he could for a moment and it slipped up into his arse, just like that. He felt ripples of pleasure slide down the insides of his thighs. He could even imagine what it would feel like now if someone hurt his balls, applied some pressure to them, though there was no way he was going to do that.

He slipped the deodorant in and out a couple of times, and came, a long rope of jism arcing up over the vanity and hitting the bottom of the mirror.

Oh, fuck! Matthew said to himself, smiling, amazed at how much he had blown and how far it had gone. It had hit the mirror with a splat.

He pulled the deodorant out and smelt shit.

What the fuck was he doing?

He frowned at himself.

‘You fucking idiot,’ he said to his reflection.

He looked away, washed the bottle with soap and got into the shower. He scrubbed himself, like Lukas had, scrubbing every part of his body. He didn’t usually clean himself this well, just using soap, just soaping himself.

Though it felt good. Scrubbing between his toes. Between his fingers. Behind his ears. Even scrubbing his sack with the brush.

He blew water out of his mouth and turned the shower off.

Man, he wanted to go outside. Wanted to go and do something.

Maybe he should ring Lukas and see if Lukas didn’t want to go to the beach today. It was only, what?, ten, ten-thirty.

He walked into his bedroom, towelling himself, and looked at the clock. Eleven-fifteen.

He could ring Lukas now. They could still go. He could phone him while he was naked. What would Lukas think of that if he could see him?

He threw the towel onto the bed and picked up his phone.

No. He could put Lukas’ jocks on. What would that be like? Talking to Lukas while he was wearing a pair of his jocks. He ripped open the drawer on his bedside cabinet and pulled the Superman jocks out. He put them on quickly, not wanting to get hard again, but hearing the stitching tear even more.

He punched Lukas’ number.

It was ringing.

Three, four rings. Matthew fingered his cock, his balls. Held them his hand and felt himself starting to get hard.

‘Hey,’ Lukas said.

‘It’s Matthew.’

‘Yeah. I know,’ Lukas said, though he sounded afraid.

‘I thought you might want to go up the coast today?’

‘Today?’

‘Yeah. If you want. I mean we could if you want.’

‘It’s pretty late.’

‘Is it? What? Not even eleven-thirty.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Well, we could still go.’

‘If you want to.’

‘I reckon we should.’

‘Okay.’

‘Can I still drive your car?’

‘Of course. I’ve said you can.’

‘Well I’ll come over then.’

‘Okay.’

‘You’ll be ready when I get there?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Okay. Well I’ll just get changed and then I’ll come.’ Matthew paused. ‘I’m still in my jocks.’

Lukas said nothing.

What had he said that for? Matthew wondered. That was too much.

‘I’ll see you in half an hour. At the most.’

They rang off.

And Matthew felt his cock grow rock hard, like a piece of iron. He looked down at it, jutting out of Lukas’ jocks. The veins looked fit to burst. But he couldn’t pull himself again. He had to go.

He pulled his jeans on, without even thinking what he was doing, realised, as he got them over his thighs, that he was still wearing Lukas’ jocks, and then thought, what the hell, I’ll just wear them. He laughed, thinking how he would be with Lukas while he was wearing Lukas’ jocks.

He pulled a T-shirt over his head, pulled some socks and his runners on and ran down the stairs.

He’d have to ask his mother for the car.

He opened the front door. Came up to her, trotting, and smiled. Too widely, he thought. Too happily.

His mother frowned at him.

‘Well, you look happy,’ she said. ‘What’s the big hurry?’

‘I thought I might borrow you car. I’ve got to go over to Lukas’. We’re going up the coast.’

His mother started clipping the hedge again.

‘Well you’re not taking my car up the coast. I’m going to the hairdressers this afternoon.’

‘No. I’m…We’re going in Lukas’ car.’

‘Lukas’ car?’

Matthew nodded.

‘Well, why can’t he come and pick you up?’

‘He’s getting ready.’

‘Well, I’m busy, Matthew. I can’t give you a lift now. And you can’t take my car. I can’t have it sitting over at the Sorensen’s all day. I need it.’

Why was she being difficult?

She looked worried about something. Unhappy. Why was his mother so unhappy?

‘It’s all right, Mum,’ he said.

‘What’s all right?’

‘Everything. I mean, there’s nothing to be worried about.’

She stopped clipping and looked at him. Her eyes were so blue, and her hair so blond. She was pretty still. And in those white pants, where the groin of them, his mother…

He pushed the thought away.

‘Here, give me a kiss,’ she said, putting the shears on the top of the hedge and opening her arms.

Matthew put his arms around her and kissed her on the cheek, felt her arms around him, her lips on his cheek.

It was almost too much.

He pulled away from her.

She smiled.

‘You’re still my boy.’

‘I’m still your boy,’ he said, repeating the rote, suddenly aware of the wind, the sound of it in his ears, the feel of it against his skin. It wasn’t very warm.

‘You’ll have to catch a cab.’

As usual, Matthew had left his phone upstairs. He raced up and got it, getting his wallet as well, and phoned for a cab. He came back down again, thinking the cab would arrive any minute, when it would have to take five, or even ten minutes to get here.

‘Come on,’ he said, walking into the kitchen, and kicking the skirting board. Why did everything have to take so long?

Well, he didn’t want the phone. That was one thing. He raced back up the stairs again and chucked it on his bed. He watched out of the window to see if the cab would come. He really didn’t want to go back out there with his mother.