Corwins Nudie Pic

"Corwin's Nudie Pic" was intended to be a one-off, but I received

several encouraging emails asking for about Lance and Corwin. So

here's another chapter, and a third is planned.

All the usual disclaimers apply. This story is fiction. None of it

is true; any resemblance to real people (alive or deceased) or

places is coincidental. If you're under 18 or it's illegal where

you live to possess stories where kids actually express their

sexuality, you should leave now.

Sex scale:

--> 0 - None at all (in this chapter!) I'm telling a love story. <---

1 - Nudge-nudge, wink-wink. Maybe a bit of kissing and petting.

2 - There's one sex scene, but it's pretty tame

3 - I'm trying to balance story-telling and sex

4 - There is some plot, but there's also a lot of sex!

5 - Plot? What plot? Just a few words to set up the scenes.

Please support Nifty to keep this useful resource alive. You might

be using it for your pleasure, but for readers discovering their

sexuality it can be a resource as well.

Comments are welcome at ethanflowers98@protonmail.com.

"Are you playing games on that computer again?"

I sighed. My father and I had this conversation at least once a month.

"My homework's all done," I said.

"But have you reviewed your previous assignments? You got a B on the last report card. That'll cost you when you go to apply for university."

I paused my game to look at him. "Dad, it's grade nine, and the course I got a B in was geography. It's not like being unable to rattle off the names of all the countries in the E.U. is going to permanently handicap me for the rest of my life. That's what Wikipedia's for."

His face darkened. I'd gone too far. "Don't talk to me like that!" he snapped. "Do you want to end up in dead-end jobs like your bother and sister? Rudy's closer to thirty than twenty now and what does he do? He drives a bus, for crying out loud! Crappy clientele and Shift work, up all hours of the day and night ..."

I thought to myself, 'And a union that will give him a pension at 55.'

"... and Janice, shacking up with that head-in-the-clouds artist boyfriend of hers! Losers, all of them ..."

'And I've never seen Janice so happy since she took up pottery and started selling on e-Bay,' I thought. 'And she's getting good money for it, too.'

"... you need an office job, Lance! One with your own office where you can make decisions that will affect more than just your own little world ..."

'Here we go again ... the big benevolent corporation speech.'

"... it's companies that bring prosperity! And you'll do best being someone important at one of those companies. In the executive suite where the big bucks are--where you can do the most good for your country and the rest of the world. But if you don't buckle down and do your schoolwork, you'll end up in the same boat as your brother and sister, barely scraping by month to month. Do you want that?"

'Fallacy of the excluded middle,' I thought to myself.

"Well, do you?"

I may have been a teenager, but there were limits to even my adolescent rashness. "No, of course not." It was what he wanted to hear, after all.

"Exactly! You have the smarts to make it, but you won't if you waste all your time playing stupid games on that blasted computer. You need ignore the mindless, useless crap and concentrate on making it into business school! You can play all the games you want once you've spent a few years making six and seven figure salaries. So shut off that computer and get your books out!"

He stood there, stone-faced, waiting. I clamped my jaw tight and made a show of closing the laptop's lid before going into my backpack for the geography textbook.

"That's better," I heard him say. "Remember, I'm counting on you to make your father and your family proud."

And with that, he finally left my room.

It was now February, nearly three months after the picture that had made such a splash on QueShare, which had prompted me to reach out to Corwin. He'd returned to school after the holiday break, stoically endured two days of teasing, and went back to being his normal self. His comment dismissing people saying they were going to beat him up as bravado without action was so far proving true.

Despite the picture and rumors about him being gay, I decided to make him my friend in school as well as out. I convinced him to sit with me and a couple of quieter friends at lunch, and gave my friends tips on how to talk so as not to confuse him so much.

Outside of school our relationship blossomed in ways neither of us would have thought possible given our different personalities. He did well with subjects like math and geography, but had a harder time with language arts. He even had problems with history. He could name every president since 1776, but struggled with nuances like the causes of wars and the workings of political parties. I helped him as best I could with those.

Given his social awkwardness, he'd long ago retreated to computers and the web for recreation, reading voraciously from innumerable websites. His head packed in facts like sardines in a can. We took to studying together, bouncing ideas off each other, asking questions that might come up in tests.

I took a risk and introduced him to my dad, saying studying with him would improve both our grades. For a week Dad insisted Corwin come over and study with me at our house, but as soon as I could I convinced him we could do it just as well at his. I stretched the truth by saying there was a complete set of Encycopaedia Britannica in his home, invaluable for research. What Corwin really had was a fairly open internet connection, giving us access to millions more pages of information than any set of books. Dad, not really understanding computers but knowing the power of the printed word, agreed I could spend weekday evenings there.

It was more than being able to spend time with my boyfriend that made me anxious to get out of the house. Mom and Dad's marriage was an acrimonious affair. Dad was overbearing, critical, and all too often angry with my mom over slights, perceived and otherwise. She couldn't cook well enough and the house was never tidy enough. He complained she couldn't manage the household finances. They spent endless hours bickering over bills, expenses, and almost everything else, including me. She accused him of being too hard on me; he retorted it had to be done because I was lazy and unmotivated.

Instead of me being Corwin's shelter in a storm, he became mine. Those evenings at his place, studying, reading, surfing the web and playing games became my safe place away from rancor of my own home.

Knowing he was gay, his family quickly realized our relationship ran deeper than just a pair of new found school buddies. His parents, far more open minded than mine, asked us to go slow and be careful. They also told his younger brother to treat us with respect and keep quiet about it. Almost the polar opposite of Corwin, Fraser was gregarious, outgoing, and chatty. Fortunately he'd picked up his parents' social values: his brother was gay, so why shouldn't he have a boyfriend? Fraser knew full well he was straight, and even at his young age he was expecting to get married and have kids of his own.

This afternoon Corwin and I were sitting together on a sofa in the basement of his house, him behind me, his arms around me. We were enjoying some quiet time between getting home from school and me having to be at home before my father got in from work. Fortunately that wouldn't be for at least another hour, probably longer. Even then it would only be for dinner, then I'd be back to study with him.

"It's like I can't do anything to satisfy him!" I lamented. "I get straight As except for one B, and all he can do is complain about the B. So this semester I'll probably get all As and I'll bet he'll complain because I haven't won the debating championship trophy."

"Sounds rough," Corwin said. "You realize, of course, that's he trying to live his life through you, right?"

For someone who didn't connect well emotionally with people, Corwin was unusually perceptive. He told he one way he handled his Asperger's was by researching how normal people interacted.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"It's obvious, Lance. He has an office job, but he's like only one or two rungs up the corporate ladder. He's always dreamed of having the big break, getting the big promotion, but it's never happened. He sees your older brother and sister as losers because they don't even have office jobs. You're his last hope. If he can't get into the C suite, then it's up to you to do it for him."

"How can he be sure I'll make it that far?"

"In his mind, you have to. You have to be the success he and your brother and sister never were. How old are they?"

I had to think. "Rudy's thirteen years older than me, so that makes him 27. Janice is a year younger, so she's 26."

"Sound like you may have been unexpected." I could hear the smile in his voice.

"Yeah, I probably was. I mean, they had two kids about a year apart, and I'm pretty sure that's all they had planned on."

"Right," Corwin said. "And a lucky break for your dad. Because his other two kids are disappointments, he's counting on you to make it all up."

"What if I don't want to?"

He hugged me a little tighter, and nuzzled the hair on the side of my head. "Sucks to be you, doesn't it?"

Suddenly a door banged upstairs and we heard the sound of feet running down the stairs. We jumped apart just as Corwin's younger brother came into the room. He was twelve, almost thirteen and tall for his age, with light brown hair worn in a stylish cut, unlike his brother's normally unkempt black hair. He grinned when he saw us.

"Oooh? Did I interrupt a little make-out session with your boyfriend?"

"Fraser!" said Corwin. "Okay, maybe we were a little close, but it's not like we were all hot and bothered."

The kid pointedly looked at our crotches. "Yeah, everything looks cool down there. But how can you two be boyfriends if you're not pawing each other all the time?"

"Uh ..." Corwin started.

I jumped in. "Fraser, maybe you can sit down for a moment?"

My direct approach caught him off-guard. His cheeky expression flickered. I tried to soften my expression and nodded over to a comfortable chair. To my relief his face, too, get a bit more serious. He went over to the chair and sat down. I sat down on the sofa and gently tugged on Corwin to get him to do the same. I put a hand on his knee.

"First off, I really appreciate that you're cool with us being boyfriends. I don't have that sort of support at home. My dad would go ballistic if he ever found out. But being boyfriends isn't really about ... uh ... sex. Especially for us. For me, Corwin's someone who's here for me; someone who will take the time to listen to me, and not judge me for who I am, and not get on my case because I got one less-than-stellar grade on a report card. As for Corwin ... I'm sure you know your brother's not very good when it comes to being with people, right?"

Fraser nodded. "Yeah. Like, when we went to parties and stuff when we were younger I'd talk to anyone and everyone, and he'd just sort of sit by himself."

"Right. Corwin tells me he feels, well, alright with me. And because I'm with him now at school--although no-one knows we're boyfriends--he now has a larger group of people he's comfortable with. I've explained how he's different to my friends, and it's let them get to know him better.

"For us, right now being boyfriends is us helping each other. He gives me literally someone to hold on to, because I don't get any of that at home. I'm helping him learn how to interact with, well, 'normal' people--like you-- while at the same time helping those people understand him. We don't get all lovey-dovey, holding hands and smooching because it's not important to us."

Fraser grinned again. "But you will eventually, right?"

I grinned back. "I'll take a video and send it to you."

"Gah! Too much information!"

Corwin looked confused and a little uncomfortable.

"So, what about sex?" Corwin asked.

"What?" Coming from Corwin, the question was most unexpected.

"Well, we're boyfriends, right? So do you think we'll ever get around to ... having sex?"

Until now this was just another weeknight. We'd finished our study session in his room, which was furnished with a decent desk in addition to a bed, along with a new permanent second chair for me.

My mind sort of reeled. I loved Corwin's company, and I liked being able to hug and hold him. But sex? When I was enjoying myself at home, I was imagining being with some cute guy from school, but somehow never Corwin.

"Maybe," I said. "I mean, well, yeah, boyfriends probably have sex. But maybe you can tell me. My internet's locked down harder than Fort Knox after a mass shooting."

"Mine's not entirely open either, 'cause there's two teenagers in the house. Sometimes I wonder what having sex with someone else would be like. I mean, I play with myself and it's alright, but ..." He trailed off.

I smiled at him. "Yeah, I have my fun, too. And, well, sex ed went into how guys and girls do it, but that's about it. Not a word on how two guys or two girls do it."

"In this state?" asked Corwin. "We're lucky they even acknowledge gay people exist." Having read more, he was much more aware of the politics than I was. "People fought tooth and nail to keep any mention of same-sex relationships out of the curriculum. That's why everything taught in the course is all about heterosexual couples."

"Yeah ... this is so funny, man! Here we are, two gay kids who are thinking about having sex and we don't a clue what to do! Yeah, let's go on QueShare and ask 'how do gay people have sex?' I'm sure we'll get lots of replies from our friends."

"Right," Corwin replied. "There might be some information in between the death threats." But he had a smile when he said it, so I knew he wasn't serious. Although he was an aspie, he had a sense of humor and could actually be pretty funny at times.

He continued. "But the sex ed gives us some clues, right? Like kissing, foreplay, getting naked--"

"Maybe we should start out with just kissing," I said. "I mean, we're both really new at this. But kissing ... I think we'll be able to handle that, right? And that might be all we'll be able to do for a while. I mean, your parents and brother are home. And no way in hell would I do anything like that at my place."

"Yeah, that rather complicates matters. So for the time being I guess sex is off the table--"

"It's usually done in bed, right?"

He laughed. "Or cars!"

It was my turn to laugh. "Well, neither of us have a car, so that leaves the bed!"

"Or the rec room downstairs. Except I never know when Fraser's going to show up with a friend."

"Right," I said. "Fraser's alright with us, but his friends could totally blow our cover. So that's out."

Now Corwin smiled again. "Alright, we're putting the cart before the horse. We're already trying to figure out where we can go to have sex, even before we know what we're going to do!"

"Oh, man!" I cried. "Yeah, I can see it now: we're there in our nice secret hideaway that we've spent weeks plotting to get to without raising the suspicions of either of our parents or your brother, and we look at each other and say, 'So what do we do now?'"

We both burst out laughing again. Corwin added, "Hey, how about we ask your Dad along. I'm sure he'll give us lots of advice!"

The idea was so preposterous I couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah, advice on how to dig our graves, since we'd be needing them shortly! How about your mom? Do you think she could help?"

Now it was his turn to laugh. "You know, probably! I mean, I'm pretty sure she knows some of this stuff. Yeah! Let's go and ask her, 'Mom, Lance and I want to have sex tonight but we don't know what to do. Can you teach us?'"

We burst out laughing again. Suddenly the door to his room opened. We both spun our heads around to see Fraser with a really big grin on his face.

"You're talking pretty loud," he said.

"Oh!" said Corwin. "Uh, how much did you hear?"

"Well, first I heard 'Fraser,' then I heard all the laughing, then you talking about asking Mom how to have sex. You're not really going to do that, are you?"

"Whoa, of course not!" Corwin replied.

"But seriously, you don't know what to do?" asked Fraser.

I answered. "Well, uhhhh ... sex ed class doesn't cover what guys do, only boys and girls. And with parental controls on Corwin's computer we can't exactly look it up. My internet's locked down tighter than a mouse's ass so I can scarcely get to kid's sites, let alone anything else. And it's not like either of us can ask guys at school."

Unexpectedly, Fraser entered the room, closed the door behind him, and sat down his brother's bed. "Okay, yeah, I see your problem. Not that I can help you much. Like, except for you two I don't know any gay people at all, or even know anyone who knows one. Now, me and my friends, we talk about straight sex all the time. One of them has an older brother who watches porn but has a crappy password on his computer." He grinned. "I've seen a lot of stuff I shouldn't have been watching!"

"That doesn't help us very much," I said.

"Hmm," Fraser mused. "maybe, for a price, I could get a you video or two."

"Oh, how?" asked Corwin. "I'm sure your friends would totally believe you if you asked them to download some gay porn, 'for my brother, you know.'"

Fraser's eyes went wide. "Oh! Yeah, that wouldn't be a very bright thing to do."

I was struck with an uncomfortable thought. "Uh, Fraser, can we count on you to keep this quiet? I mean, it would be really tempting tomorrow to tell your friends 'my gay brother and his boyfriend were talking about having sex last night except they didn't know what to do!' It would make for a good laugh, but--"

He cut me off. "Hey, Corwin's my brother, right? I've heard my friends and their older friends say pretty bad things about gays. No way I'm going to tell them about him or you. It'd be painting a target on you!"

"Okay, thanks."

"I'm sure the information's out there somewhere," said Corwin. "I can find out about lots of stuff on the internet. Some of it's really neat and some of it's just plain weird. But even I'm scared to put 'gay sex' into a search engine on my computer. I'd probably end up having a real uncomfortable conversation with Mom and Dad if they found out."

I asked, "Do you think the computers at the public library would be blocked?"

"Probably," he answered.

"I've got an idea," we heard Fraser say.

"What?" ask Corwin.

"Ok, it's no secret I know more people than you do. Now, I can't ask them 'how you do find out about gay sex on the internet.' But I can ask, 'how do you find things on the internet that you're not supposed to know about?'"

"Like, say how to find sex sites!" I said. "No, not gay sex, just any site."

"And how to bypass the web filters," Corwin added quietly.

"That's it!" said Fraser. "Bypassing web filters ... I bet there's a geek or two at your school who could show you something. And sometimes geeks are like you, Corwin--you know, not really comfortable around a lot of people. Ask them questions about computers. Some of them will talk your ear off if you let them. They don't get a chance to do that very much 'cause everyone else wants to talk about girls and sports and who's going out with who."

I grinned. "Brilliant idea! Gee, thanks Fraser!" Without really thinking I jumped from my chair and gave him a hug.

"Ewww, gross!" said Fraser, but with a laugh. "Help! Help! I'm being molested!"

"Maybe I should kiss you?" I asked.

He grinned. "Don't even think about it!"

Corwin and I spent the next week looking around the library, the cafeteria, and the computer lab for kids meeting Fraser's description of a geek. After four days we identified a likely candidate, or rather two of them. A pair of older boys, both average height but obviously not very athletic, hung out in the library with their laptops. They looked like they were in grade 11 or even 12. Between their confidence using the computers and the speed at which they could get things done, they obviously knew what they were doing.

Next we had to figure out how to approach them. I came up the idea of asking for help with a minor problem. We searched the web for common computer problems and hit upon "attachments in email don't open." After learning about file associations, I went on to my laptop and deleted the one for PDF files.

Despite his awkwardness, or perhaps because of it, Corwin volunteered to be the one to talk to them. On Friday that week I loaned him my laptop and gave him the password for my account. After spotting the geek pair in the library, we entered separately. I got a random book from the stacks and sat down at the table next them.

Obviously nervous, Corwin approached two boys at the table and got their attention. "Uh, you look like you might know something about computers. Do you think you might be able to help me out with something? I mean, it works ok, but I can't open email attachments."

"Hey there!" said one of them. "Sure! That's a simple fix! Can I see your laptop?"

Corwin set it down on the table. The older teen opened it. "Oh, you're Lance, right?" he said when he saw the login screen.

"Actually, I'm Corwin. This is an old laptop from a friend of mine."

"Corwin?" he asked. "The kid from the picture?"

Corwin put on a wan smile. "Yeah, that's me. I've grown a little since then."

"Hell of an embarrassing thing to happen. I'm sorry you had to go through that. I can fix the username, too. By the way, I'm George and this is Benny."

"Oh, hi," said Corwin. His anxiety was kicking in.

Now I made my move, getting up from the table and going over to theirs. "Hey Corwin; what's up? Is that my old computer?"

"Yeah, it is. It has a problem, so I asked these two if they could help."

"Yeah, it's a simple fix," said George. He slid the laptop over Corwin. "Can you type in your password, please?"

"Sure," Corwin replied, and did so. He was still pretty nervous and it took him two tries to get my password right.

"All right, this should take just a minute." At a blinding pace he opened three windows, clicked a few things, and in less than thirty seconds had restored the association.

Beside him, Benny frowned. "Doh, he's using that reader! It's got a bunch of security holes in it!"

"Maybe we should fix that," said George. Looking at Corwin, he asked, "Do you want me to install a better PDF viewer on your system? It's faster and more secure."

"Secure?" I asked. "How can a file reader be insecure?"

Benny answered. "PDF is more than just a file format. It can do things like execute JavaScript right out of the PDF, the same way web sites can with your browser."

Corwin looked at me, seeking my approval. "It sounds like a good idea," I told him.

He nodded and turned to George. "Sure, go ahead."

George started my web browser, then immediately called up a different search engine than the one I usually used.

"What's that?" asked Corwin.

"It's a meta search engine," George explained. "Google tracks you all over the web and remembers every search you do. This one doesn't." He entered a term into the page and opened the top two results in new tabs. An ad window popped open; George muttered something and closed it. "You need an ad blocker, too."

While George worked, Benny launched into a monologue about third party ad servers, insecure accounts, and malicious JavaScript. He told us poorly secured accounts on advertising systems could be taken over by bad actors, who replaced the intended ads with things like search engine redirectors, cryptocurrency miners, unwanted pop-up ad programs, and even software designed to steal bank logins and credit card numbers. Not only did installing an ad blocker make for faster and cleaner web browsing, it also protected the computer from malware.

While I couldn't follow a lot of it, we'd obviously hit the jackpot. George and Benny were probably the two most knowledgeable students in the whole school when it came to computers.

Then we heard George exclaim, "I can't get anywhere on this machine! Damned near every site is blocked by the most anal nanny program I've ever met!" He looked at Corwin, obviously flustered. "How do you manage to get anything done on this system?"

I jumped in. "He doesn't. When I gave him the computer, his dad added a web filter that a friend of his had recommended, and then turned it up to eleven." It was true, save for the fact it was my dad who'd installed the software. It was one of the reasons I preferred to study with Corwin. The web filter on his computer only blocked porn and a few extreme political sites.

"Dude, you need Linux," said Benny.

"What's Linux?" Corwin asked.

That opened the floodgates. For the next half hour the two young men almost fell over each other telling us about Linux. They explained it was an operating system like Windows and MacOS, but it wasn't owned by any one company. Instead it was developed and distributed over the internet by dozens of groups building their own distributions. All perfectly legal, too, thanks to its open source licensing. It ran on an astonishing variety of hardware, from tiny credit-card sized computers to PCs, mainframes, and giant supercomputers with millions of CPU cores.

They had it installed on their own laptops. They showed us how its desktop environment was both similar to and different from the Windows systems we were using. George pointed out that because Linux completely displaced Windows on the computer, none of the Windows web blocking software would be running. It was exactly what we were looking for.

"All this is really cool," I told them, "but this computer and mine are running Windows. Our parents wouldn't like it if we installed Linux on them."

"That's not a problem," Benny said. "Meet us here again on Monday, and we'll bring a flash drive with a live distro on it."

"Live distro?" I asked.

"Yeah," Benny said. "It's a Linux distribution designed to boot and run from a USB flash drive."

George added, "Your Windows installation is untouched. When you're finished playing around with Linux, just shut it down, remove the flash drive, and restart the computer normally."

"Can you bring another one, too?" I asked. "I want to try it out myself."

We met again on Monday. As promised, Benny, the more technically capable of the two, brought along two flash drives containing a very usable distribution. He had to fiddle with my laptop's BIOS settings to turn off secure boot, but after that with the flash drive plugged in, Linux started and ran flawlessly. When prompted, Benny created a save area on the flash drive so I wouldn't lose settings between runs.

I offered to pay them for the drives but they refused. For them, trying to get us off Windows was motivation enough.

We spent three days with them, learning the basics of Linux under their rather chaotic tutelage. George was more sociable and even minded, while Benny was all over the place, madly jumping from one topic to the next as it occurred to him. George preferred the desktop environment; Benny was often typing commands in a terminal window. The pair ran different distributions and every once in a while traded barbs about their favorite software. I took as many notes as I could, while Corwin sort of absorbed the information.

Fortunately the second USB drive worked on Corwin's desktop system once we figured out how to get it running. Every day after school we started his computer from the flash drive and tried out a few things. As expected, without the web filter software running, nothing was blocked and we could surf anywhere at will.

With remarkable restraint from both of us, we waited until after we'd finished studying on Wednesday evening before booting Linux, navigating to a secure search engine, and typing in 'how do gay men have sex'."

We got a real crash course! In retrospect, things like sucking cock and anal sex were pretty obvious. It was a lesson that sometimes even seeming obvious things may not be so until one is exposed to them. Corwin likened it to a civilization not inventing the wheel.

Further exploration led us to porn sites with pictures and videos. Most refused to show more than a few images before demanding payment, but what little we saw was enough to introduce us to the possibilities. Following a series of web links that neither of us could recall, we eventually landed on Nifty and its treasure trove of stories.

Finally we knew what to do. All we needed now was some place private.

I formatted this chapter using indented paragraphs usually used for printed works, instead of the more traditional block style used in email. Do you have a preference? Let me know!

If you enjoyed this story, you might like the other one I have on Nifty: A Hole in The Fence, in Young Friends