Bento tossed his plastic green ruler on the coffee table and leaned over Chad. He was smiling big and wide, showing only a hint of teeth. Bento often smiled with his teeth when he was exceptionally happy. One of his young paws brushed Chad's genitals, strumming the small protrusion of the bull's penis.

"Dude," Chad murmured, his cheeks and ears getting very hot like they did when he was angry, except he wasn't at all angry right now. "You're touching my-, my thing. My peepee."

"The [i]correct[/i] term," Bento said in the starched and nerdy cadence he used when Mrs. Briar picked him to answer a question in class, "is penis, Chad."

"I knew that," Chad grumbled. He was grinning despite feeling awkward in a way he couldn't understand. Complex, adult feelings turned his dumb jock brain into pink jelly. Someone older and hormonally-balanced would recognize the impulses as love and anxiety. Chad would say later on that he knew this was the moment his innocence ended - not a bad thing exactly - but that would be an embellishment. Chad only understood a primal urge, that Bento touching him felt nice.

The Shiba Inu tried holding Chad's small penis a few different ways like a scientist working by process of elimination. He tried to grip it in a fist like he did his own but found there wasn't enough to hold onto. He looped a thumb and forefinger around it as though doing the OK symbol, but that didn't offer fine enough control.

Throughout Bento's attempts to wrangle Chad's shaft, the bull squirmed, often huffing from his nostrils. He gnawed his bottom lip and stared at his tiny penis as strange new feelings welled up in its pink knob. Chad loved to touch it, to run his fingers over its knobby head and trace the edge of what looked like its little helmet. The slit where his pee came out was one of the best places to touch it. Sometimes he coaxed a clear white fluid from it, only ever a few drops whenever he managed to touch himself just right. It was smelly and bitter and definitely not pee. Beads of it were coming out now as Bento grappled with him.

"Maybe like this," Bento wondered aloud, and began to pinch it gently in his fingers like he did with the earthworms he dug up and examined from time to time. Now he could play with it using fine control, and he was plainly delighted when he said, "This'll work!"

Chad opened his mouth but closed it again. His cheeks were cherry red and his penis (he hated that word, it sounded so adult and severe; [i]cock[/i] was a good one but he was bashful to say it even during cussing practice) throbbed in Bento's pinching fingers like it was coming to life. He rubbed the couch cushions, digging into the crevices between them like he sometimes buried his hands in his pockets when he was embarrassed.

The nerdy dog's fingers tweaked and tugged on the bull's little penis with a clumsy but ever-improving technique. The smelly bitter liquid was gross but Bento had learned from his own experiences that it made the flesh slick and easier to handle. He smeared it purposefully around Chad's penis and his fingers as a consequence.

"It's really hard," Bento cooed, tail wagging. His own penis, which Chad thought resembled a little rocket ship, was turgid but not drippy. Chad wanted to touch it but was bashful, not to mention simply overwhelmed by the feelings he felt at the moment.

When Chad touched himself, he never did so the way Bento was doing now. Pulling it never occurred to him; he just fingered and twiddled and pinched until he was bored enough to pull his briefs up and go to sleep. It felt good when he touched but never like this. There was a tingling feeling in his balls. It seemed like they had gotten even smaller like they did when he went out in the cold. His penis, though - that was harder than he had ever felt before. It seemed to him like it had grown an inch or two. It hadn't, but its flesh was thicker and redder. More beads of the clear stuff oozed from its slit.

Chad murmured to Bento, almost whining the words, "It feels weird, dude, it feels so weird, ooh man. Oh..." He pressed his back into the couch, huffed, "What's it doing? What's it doing, dude?"

"Does it feel rea-a-ally good, like your legs are all shaky and your butthole feels funny?" Bento asked, still tweaking and tugging, small paw moving faster than ever. "This part is the best. This is called, um, an orgasm."

"A what?" Chad asked, truly baffled but sounding as if he wasn't all there. And he wasn't: his young body was about to have its very first orgasm.

"Orgasm," the dog said proudly, having read the word from the young adult guidebook his parents had given him. "Do you feel-?"

"Oh, man," Chad interrupted, squirming in his seat, breathing hard and fast. His features twisted into a scowl, his jaws setting and eyes rolling back. He bucked into Bento's fingers and his legs curled and his butthole did indeed feel very funny. "Oogh," he bleated, and then Chad had the first orgasm of his life.

Thin and watery semen spurted into Bento's fingers like the last thin squirt from a bottle of ketchup. He had in him a second spurt and it was just as thin and infertile as the first. He gasped and made low, crooning noises Bento had never heard the tough bull make before. Had he not known personally what an orgasm was like, Bento would have thought Chad was in pain.

The dog slowed down his tweaks and tugs. "It's gonna get sensitive now," he said just as it did and Chad began to hiss and purse his thighs. Bento giggled and pulled his sticky paw back as if yanking it out of the way of a biting maw. "Did that feel nice?" he asked, tilting his head. He grabbed a thin napkin from a holder on the table and wiped his fingers clean.

"That was-, what happened?" Chad asked, staring at Bento with eyes both exhilarated and sleepy. His legs were still shaking and his penis still oozing some clear fluid. "That felt... really good, dude."

Bento smiled. He wiped Chad's penis as if cleaning up a messy eater's chin. "Didn't it? I do that a lot when I'm alone. It feels really nice and it makes you feel all warm."

"Thanks," Chad said, looking away from the dog. He listened to gentle thunder and heavy rain for a few seconds before he said, "Can I do you?"

The dog giggled. He was smiling with his teeth again. "Yeah, okay. It's really easy."

"I want to make you feel nice," the bull blurted out. "For making me feel nice, you know?"

Bento looked to the clock on the wall - the analog clock, not the digital readout on the cable box. "It's kind of late, actually. Won't your mom and dad be home soon? Shouldn't they be home by now?"

"Dad's working late and mom had a doctor appointment," Chad said. He looked at the digital clock and said, "But, uh, they probably won't be gone too much longer... can we do this really fast?"

Sometimes when Bento masturbated, he liked to draw it out for as long as possible. Right before he [i]ejaculated,[/i] as the book put it, he stopped and waited for the sensation to die back before continuing again. Almost every time he couldn't resist the urge to keep going after a few stops but it always made him feel even better when he did finally have his orgasm. He thought this was a weird, silly thing to do; he had no idea he had stumbled across the concept of edging.

"Yeah, we can do it quickly," the dog said with a smart nod. He sipped his soda then plopped back into the couch, thinking sheepishly that if his parents had seen him sit down so harshly, they'd have made him stand back up and sit back down in a civilized fashion until they were satisfied he got the message. Slamming his butt down - his [i]naked[/i] butt! - on the couch was a naughty pleasure and he relished it.

Chad leaned over Bento, aping what the dog had done as closely as possible. His hands were bigger and rougher but Bento's knotted penis fit into his grasp perfectly. The bull murmured, "Your penis is really nice. I like how big it is."

The Shiba Inu giggled. "I like yours too," he said, looking away from Chad. "It's small but it's really nice to touch."

"Uh, thanks," the bull said, smiling in his embarrassment. He squeezed down a little bit, started to move his hand. "Like this? Like this, right?" he asked, hand sliding up and down as if milking Bento.

Bento's feet crossed and he glanced at Chad's work. "Mhm. Like that," he affirmed quietly. A bead of precum squeezed from the tip of his penis. He felt its passage and said to the bull, "There's this... slippery stuff that comes out. I use it to make my fingers wet."

"How come?"

"Then it's easier to play with it," Bento explained. He watched from behind his dense lenses as Chad smeared the precum into his fingers.

The bull took a moment to look at his digits. He sniffed them indelicately, winced, and said, "This stuff smells gross. It comes out of mine sometimes, too. But it's not pee."

"It has some weird name," Bento said. "Pre-, presidential fluid or something. I don't know." As Chad returned to masturbating him, Bento closed his eyes and listened to the rain. He cooed, "That feels good. I really like your hand. It's warm."

"So was yours," Chad said, still wearing that embarrassed smile. A soft, wet sound started to accompany the handjob and Chad giggled, "That sounds like when I'm all sweaty and I can do armpit farts. Awesome."

Bento giggled with him. "Armpit farts! You're such a shithead, Chad."

Chad snickered. He decided to switch hands; maybe his left hand could do it better, make Bento have one of those orgasms. He was going to keep playing with Bento's penis but the insult needed an answer. He tried to think of a good reply and what he landed on wasn't exactly a cuss, but it got the message across. "At least I'm not some butt-sniffing dork like you."

"Gro-o-oss!" Bento cried, tittering. He grinned down at Chad, showing teeth in his giddy way. "Go a little faster. You can go faster, it won't hurt me. I kinda like being rough."

"You sure?" the bull asked.

"Yes, come o-o-on," Bento urged. "You're doing really good so far," a coy smile, "for a jockstrap-smelling loser."

Chad winced at the thought. [i]Yeah, well, at least I don't wear glasses thicker than Mrs. Briar's butt,[/i] he thought - but he wouldn't say that. Bento was an easygoing person but remarks about his poor vision tended to make him self-conscious. Chad cared for Bento in a way which was certainly boyhood love, not necessarily romantic yet, but still the deeply-rooted care of best friends.

"Shut up, dork," Chad huffed instead. He switched back to his dominant right hand. The left one just felt weird doing it. He tightened down his grip, including the plump bulb at the bottom of the penis in his tugging grasp.

Bento cooed and arched his spine. "Oh, that feels really nice. Really nice... um, you may want to grab a napkin..."

"Are you gonna have an orgasm?" Chad asked intently, leaning closer, smelling Bento's penis without realizing that he was doing so. He studied the way its red flesh pulsed, how the veins under the skin throbbed. It seemed so visceral compared to his which was small and pink and boring. Absently he reached back, pawing around on the table, almost knocking over the dog's soda. He found the napkins and grabbed a couple of them.

"Ye-e-es," Bento hissed, paws squeezing the cushions, muscles tensing. Softly he moaned, a long, low coo of his pretty young voice. He grabbed for Chad, took the bull's wrist. "Stop. Ooh, stop, stop, it's sensitive," the Japanese dog haltingly said. He licked his lips and his ears splayed back over his dark hair.

Chad held onto Bento's penis though he stopped stroking. He watched with naked fascination as a viscous white fluid began to spurt from the pointed tip of the dog's shaft. It was clear but smelled of salt, and it oozed over the heel of Chad's hand before he remembered the napkins and started to wipe it up.

"Ooh, thank you, thank you," Bento whined, his face beset by a tremendous smile. "That felt so-o-o good... you're good at this."

"Am I really?" Chad asked, blurting out the words. He took the messy napkins and, much as Bento had done to him, began to wipe the dog's penis clean. He paid special attention to the tip where semen continued to ooze free. "This stuff smells like the ocean," he remarked. "What is it?"

Bento took several moments to catch his breath before he explained to Chad the gist of semen and sperm and eggs and fertilization. Chad listened, still kneeling beside the dog, still holding the sticky napkins.

"So, like-," he looked at some of the semen still on his finger, "so what you're saying is, this is the stuff babies are made from? That's gross!"

"I didn't write the rules," Bento huffed, smiling. He stood up and pulled his bottoms back on. Chad quickly did the same and they tossed their napkins into the trash can in the kitchen.

Glancing in the trash can, then out the window, Chad asked, "So-o-o, what do you wanna do now? I'm kinda sleepy."

Bento grinned. "I get sleepy too, when I have an orgasm. I think it happens to everyone. You'll need to pee really soon, too." He covered his mouth to giggle. "We should do our homework. You do yours and I'll do mine, instead of me doing my homework [i]and[/i] yours."

With new sodas cracked open and the rain still pouring down, Chad and Bento pulled out their homework assignments and started to work on them.

"I hate math," Chad hissed. "Look at this stupid stuff. Why are there letters?" Imploringly he looked through Bento's lenses. "Can't you do this for me, dude? When will I use this crap?"

The dog thought back to what Mrs. Briar had said earlier in the day. [i]Don't you want to be able to count your millions?[/i] or some such coy attempt to trick Chad into learning. Bento thought better of repeating it.

"Nuh-uh," Bento said, leaning over, almost draping himself over Chad. "But look. See. X is a variable. That means you don't know what it is."

"Well, duh," Chad snorted.

Bento smiled. "So we have to figure out what X is. Look. Seven plus X is fifteen."

Chad stared at Bento uncomprehendingly. "So what? How am I supposed to know what X is?"

The dog could have been a tutor with his patience. He walked Chad through plugging in different integers as X until fifteen came out as the result. When Chad himself remarked that eight would make fifteen, a strange zen look spread across the bull's face.

"Wait," he murmured. "So [i]that's[/i] how you find out what X is? I feel stupid now."

"You [i]are[/i] stupid, so that's fine," Bento said, and started giggling.

Something stopped in the driveway. Chad recognized the sound of dad's truck. "There's my pops," he said.

"I know," Bento said politely. He suddenly kissed Chad on the cheek tantalizingly close to the mouth.

Chad's face was red as a beet when the front door opened and in came the soaked figure of his father, a handsome and fit bull who Chad had already begun to resemble.

Dad smoothed back his short, wet hair and threw a hand up. "Hey, sport. Hi, Bento."

"Hey-, hi dad," Chad mumbled.

"Hello, sir," Bento cheerfully answered. "I think I taught Chad how to do algebra."

"That's great, now teach him how to clean his room," dad said cheerfully as he walked through the living room for the bedrooms, leaving wet hoof prints in the carpet.

Chad looked urgently at Bento the moment his dad was out of the room. He whispered, [i]"What the hell was that for?"[/i]

"Just 'cuz," Bento said, shrugging. He tapped a finger on the bull's homework and giggled. "Now keep going. Just keep doing it like I showed you, and maybe you won't be a [i]total[/i] idiot for too much longer."