What is the purpose of this chapter?

Back in the days of the discovery of sexuality, when I was learning to understand what an erection was, and what to do when my dick got hard, a neighbor of the same age, going through the same phase, taught me a lot of things. I'll call him Emerson here in the report. Emerson lived across the street from me, and we would always play football and play together, no malice or anything like that. Everything changed when, in the summer of '94 or '95 or so, around the time of the school holidays, at the beginning of the year, Emerson came back from his grandparents' house, who lived in Rio Grande do Sul. In the middle of the afternoon he came to my house, asking if I wanted to do something. As it was too hot to be outside in the sun, we decided to stay in my living room, watching TV and talking. I asked him how his vacation was, and he told me a lot of things, about what he did with his cousins and their friends in the town where his grandparents lived, a small town, like where we lived, in the west of Santa Catarina. He talked about bathing in the pond, playing soccer on makeshift fields where some cattle were raised, and playing hide-and-seek around his grandmother's house, where there was a small forest. The Beginning Conversation goes on, conversation comes on, he asked if I've ever had a hard-on, too. It was a strange question, but I said yes. So he asked me what I did when it happened. I said I didn't do anything, I hoped it would pass. At that moment, he gave a smile, and said: - Paulo, I learned something from my cousin at my grandmother's house, do you want me to teach you? I was a little stunned and didn't answer, and I just stared at him with a look of doubt, and he went on: It's not much, Paulo, but it's very good. - with a hand job? You do it with your hand, holding the stick, moving it up and down. - and what does that do? I don't know how to explain it, I'm just curious. Again, I stared at him, not knowing what to say or what to do, and I realized in that moment that he was talking to me about this and passing his hand on his dick, on the soccer shorts he was wearing. He noticed me looking at him and said: - My dick is hard in here, just thinking about it. - Is that right? - You want to see? Before I could answer, he pulled his stick out, holding it up, hard as stone, with a red head that shone so hard. I didn't know what to do, and I just stared at his dick as he slowly poked his own dick. Before I knew it, I was passing my hand on my stick over my bermuda, and I felt it getting hard too. - Is yours getting hard, too, Paulo? I realized at that moment that I had my hand on my dick, that I felt a tingling in my balls and a warmth I had never felt before in my dick. He's kind of freaked out about all that stuff. "Let me teach you how to make a good hand job?" asked Emerson. - Yeah... I was still wondering if I should do that. He then came closer to me, almost leaning against my body. We were sitting on the sofa of my house, with the door of the living room open. With our shorts a little lowered, each holding his own hard stick in his hand. - Do it like this. I tried to do the same, but my hand grabbed the head of the stick, which was dry and hurt. I spoke with the pain of scraping your hand on your head. - You have to take care of your head, so you don't scratch it, it hurts. I tried again, but I did it again and it hurt again. Hand of a friend And it was at that moment, at that instant, that something happened that changed my life forever. - Let me show you how it's done. - but you're already teaching. - but that's not the way I want to show it. Not understanding what he was asking, I just looked at him, who insisted and spoke: My cousin taught me that too. - All right, I'll leave you to it. He smiled, and said: - Okay, let me take your hand and show you how to do it here. I didn't quite understand what he was going to do until I realized he was taking my hand up to his dick, and I instinctively tried to pull my arm back, but he held it and pulled it back, saying, - Relax, you'll like it, then I'll do it on you, too, just so I can show you how it's done. My heart was racing. I let him put my hand on his stick, and it was very hard and hot, and he put my hand on his stick, and he held my hand with his hand, making the fist motion, showing me how to hold it, how much to squeeze, and how far to go up and down. - Are you enjoying it? - Yes... I replied a little shy, nervous and with a feeling that took over me: hard-on. I felt his dick get messed up, and I looked, and there was a sticky, clear broth coming out of his dick, leaving the dick flat. - now you can let your hand go over your head, which is even better. - won't it hurt? - No, you can, but don't put so much pressure on your head. The First Honey and the First Milk I did what he said, and I realized he was twisting on the couch, and I looked scared, thinking I was hurting, and he reassured me, saying, - It's very good like this. Can I show it in yours? Seeing the pleasure he was feeling, I agreed: What was going on? What was that feeling? I felt his hand on my dick, and it was one of the best things I'd ever felt until then. He punched my dick perfectly, and I didn't feel that scratch on my head. My dick got harder than it had ever been before. I felt it throb, it felt like it was going to explode. At that moment, I felt like I was getting licked, too. The urge to grab his dick while he grabs mine was gigantic. We stay like this for a while. - Do like this, faster. He talked and showed me on my dick how to do it, and I started emulating on his dick what he was doing on mine, and we walked together, and I felt a warm broth coming out of his dick, licking my hand, and I looked and there was a whitish broth, hotter and thicker than what was coming out before. - What is it, Emerson? - It's fucking hot. He gasped as he took my hand off his dick. I didn't know what to do with my hand that had gotten fucking molasses on my thumb and forefinger. My stick was still hard, but I was distracted by what had happened there, with his stick. He said that, taking his hand off my stick. We went to the bathroom. He got toilet paper and wiped his dick. I washed my hand, he washed his. We dried it off and went back to the couch. We sat quietly, watching TV, until he, more experienced, said: - Did you like it? I looked at him, still a little shy. - I like it. - that you didn 't enjoy . - What's that? - To mock, to spill shit, like it came out of my dick, that's mocking. - I got it . - If you want, I'll help you enjoy, so you can see how good it is - Right now? - Yeah, now, why not? The rest of the experience is for the next report . For illustrative purposes only