Magician's Sidekick

I became fascinated with magic when I saw The Great Maratini perform. In fact, I was star-struck. A few weeks later, I saw him again, and suddenly knew that I wanted to become a magician, like him. After his show, I timidly walked up to him and asked how I might learn to become a magician. To my amazement, he was willing to talk to me, and took me seriously. To me at the time, Maratini looked like a well-established adult, but actually, he was only three years older than me, at 17. He was tall and thin, with curly dark hair, and a certain twinkle in his eyes. A very attractive man, really. So we talked, and talked, and talked some more, after his show. It became late, and my parents expected me to be home by eight, so I had to go. We exchanged phone numbers. A couple days later, he phone me. He actually phoned me! He offered to let me help him build a new apparatus - a disappearing box trick. I went over to his house - his parents house - and he took me down to the basement, where his father and he had built a nice little workshop. Evidently, it was his dad that started Maratini (actually Martin) on magic. No, his dad wasn't a magician. His dad was professionally a computer programmer, but was a woodworker by hobby. Martin had started building little things in his dad's shop, and what he started to build kind evolved into illusions and tricks. From that, after reading some books on magic, The Great Maratini was born. Martin performed at parties mostly, and sometimes little stage shows. He treated the whole thing quite professionally. I started going with him to almost every show. I didn't really do much. It was things like get him a soda or a sandwich, take care of his costume, play the music at the right time, and little chores like that. But I still felt so honored to be helping him in any little way. I must admit, even though I had helped him build a disappearing box, I still felt more like his admirer than his friend. But he kept treating me more like a friend than I had a right to expect from such a great man. Fast forward a month or so, and I found myself once again alone in his basement with him after school. We were building another illusion, and he started talking about sex. I loved talking about sex, even though I didn't really know much about it. I had discovered my dick ,and the pleasure it can bring only a couple of years earlier. To think that The Great Maratini had thoughts like me about sex was, well... revealing! I suddenly knew I wasn't the only sex freak in the world. Oddly, instead of talking about girls all the time like most of my friends did, in their blustery, unknowing ways, he was talking about masturbation. It was getting a little personal, but there's nothing I wouldn't tell him, really. I mean, he was my mentor, and sort of friend, too. After a while, he came right out and asked how often I masturbate. Not 'if' I masturbate, but how often. So, I couldn't just claim I didn't do it. After a moment's hesitation, in which I was hoping my cheeks wouldn't turn red, I admitted the truth: Probably twice or three times a day on average. Then, blowing me away, he said, "Me too. I wank several times a day." I wasn't expecting that. First, I didn't think he would just volunteer that he masturbates at all. Second, that he would tell me his frequency, well, that was just a great, big honor. Then the discussion got really interesting, yet almost embarrassing also. He wanted to know if I had every masturbated with any one. I told him my older brother tried to poke his penis into my asshole one time, but that didn't really work out. My brother never got it in me, and we didn't do anything else. So essentially, no, never really did anything with anyone. For some reason, I opened up a bit, and started telling him that I think my dick is small, and that it seemed like my brother's was huge. Martin offered to take a look at my penis, and tell me whether it was really small or not.... If you want more of this story, let me know by leaving a comment below. With enough comments, I'll be glad to tell you the rest.