WARNING: The following story is true; it contains explicit descriptions of young male nudity, masturbation, and oral sex. If you are under 18 or it is illegal for you to read this because of your location (county, state, country, etc), please stop now.
In telling this story, I attempt to portray my early gay experiences as typical of the sexual awakenings of a closeted gay teen in the 70's. While the experiences herein are true, they actually happened over the course of about four years or so; in the interest of brevity, I have condensed some of these multiple encounters into one. A couple of years into my relations with this individual, I also found myself becoming sexually active with another high school friend but that story is for another series.
I have long wanted to tell this story, and I hope it excites you as it does me as I remember it. This is the first in a series, my first, so please let me know if you liked it and want to hear more. I enjoy reading the postings on this site, and I'm eager to read posts of your experiences as well.
This story copyrighted by me. Unauthorized use prohibited.
Send all feedback to homo_erotica@hotmail.com.
-= Part 4: He's a Handful =-
Finally I had a sign that he was really enjoying this, and that he seemed open (literally as well as figuratively) to allowing me a more intimate knowledge of his body. While physically this was strictly about his pleasure, my mind was enraptured in the sensual thought that I was probably the first to touch him in this way, and it was turning me on to think that I might be turning him on too.
Now knowing for sure that tonight my secret desire to touch him was about to be fulfilled, I sat frozen, palsied with apprehension and excitement, my hands mid-thigh.
"Up...", he breathed, and I inched my hands back up his leg. Reaching the top of his leg, my right hand settled in his groin as my left hand continued up to his pelvis.
"Over..." he whispered, now directing my every move.
Although I was quite certain of his meaning, I opted to give him and me an out, and began to move my right hand outward, across his leg. I was being a real tease, I knew, playing with him like this; wanting him to think I was innocently clueless as to what we were doing. But I wasn't, and I'm sure he knew I wasn't, too. It was a scenario that would repeat itself over and over in the coming years.
"In..." he directed, and my trembling fingers crept ever inward toward the area just south of his balls. Once there, my fingers gently rubbed the underlying bulge there that let me know his cock must be fully hard.
"Up..." he urged, taking me over the edge to where I had wanted to go all along. I was, I suddenly realized, holding my breath, my head becoming dizzy with anticipation and lack of oxygen. I softly took a deep breath to steady my nerves.
Opening my right hand, and shifting it slightly forward and up, my sweaty, lotion-slicked palm at last enveloped the soft, loose, hairy flesh of his scrotum. His balls were large, and now rested heavily in my cupped hand. Sliding my left hand forward from his pelvis, my fingers parted his silky bush and came to rest with the base of his cock nestled in the opening between my thumb and index finger. Laying firmly across the top of my hand, his rigid pole felt thick and hot against the smooth, thin skin.
My right hand carefully fondled his heavy balls for several moments before he softly exhaled and with a catch in his breath whispered a barely audible "Up".
Releasing his balls from my grasp, my hand hovered hesitantly for just a second before sliding upwards, barely touching him, until I could feel the base of his pulsing shaft fully under my palm. Slowly, inexorably, my fingers began to curl around his throbbing member. With my other hand, I began gently rubbing around its base, tangling my fingers in his thick pubes.
At last, I was holding his dick in my hand, and it was awesome! His cock was larger that I had anticipated, and my fingertips barely touched my thumb as I loosely grasped its swollen circumference. I began to slowly slide my hand up and was amazed at its length, in comparison to my own. When I got to the head, I let my thumb slide up around the front and over its top, feeling the velvety skin moistened by a large drop of precum.
After a few tentative strokes, I reluctantly released him and fumbled for the forgotten bottle of lotion. Squeezing a bit into my right hand, I now grasped him around the root with my left hand while my slickened right hand covered his pulsating knob. After a few swirling motions around his cockhead, I brought my right hand down past my left hand and gently stroked his balls while my left hand stroked up his slippery shaft.
Feeling him quiver ever so slightly under my touch, I dropped my left hand to his stomach, and returned my right hand to his cock, stroking very slowly up and down and around the head. From the amount of precum he was leaking, I could tell it wouldn't be long at this rate before he blew his load, and I wanted this to last.
Reading my mind, he said "Wait a sec", as my hand returned to the base of his cock and just held it there.
He shifted a little on the mattress, moving closer to the center of the bed and causing me to lose my grip. Once situated, he spread his legs, which prompted me to get between them. Sitting cross-legged between his knees now, I put my hands on his legs just above the knee. Reaching around them, I lifted them up and draped them over my thighs and around my waist, scooting up a bit so I could get closer. He assisted by lifting his ass and allowing me to slide partially under him. He was now sitting with his ass resting on my calves, and my brief-covered cock and balls were right up against him, just below his balls.
Evidently, he was now comfortable and had recovered a bit because he whispered "OK". I put a dab of lotion on my hand and tenderly grasped his cock, evenly distributing the lotion along his length.
This was nice, I thought, as I could now use both of my hands simultaneously - and I needed them; with one hand firmly at the base, and the other just above it like when we used our hands on a baseball bat to choose who would hit first, his large cockhead still stuck out the top. I guessed he must've been a little over seven inches long and almost six inches around, dwarfing my immature 5 incher. For a 13 year-old, the boy was blessed!
Sitting on my lap as he was, and with my hands alternately stroking his cock and balls, I found that if I tilted my head directly down, my mouth hovered just inches above his cock; I'm sure he could feel my hot breath against the head. I stroked and fondled for several minutes, lost in what I was doing.
Suddenly, out of nowhere after being mostly silent this whole time, Chuck said "This is queer, you know...".
There it was - that dreaded word. He didn't sound angry, or guilty, or accusatory; he simply stated it flatly, and let it lie there.
Snapped from my reverie, I was stunned, like a deer in headlights. Frozen in place with my hands on his pole, I cleared my throat, searching my brain for something to say. "Uh..yeah...", I started, "I guess...", and hesitantly gave him a few more light strokes.
A fleeting thought shot through my mind that maybe I should break the tension by saying something smartass like 'No, this would be queer' and then just stick his cock in my mouth and start sucking him off; I wanted to, anyhow, and he would either like it and let me continue, or he would sock me one and it would be all over.
Ultimately, I managed to say simply "Does it feel good?", my mouth dry and my heart racing. I didn't want to stop.
"Yeah"
"If it feels good, do it", I said, lamely, and continued stroking him.
And that was that...he never brought it up again.
After that, I began stroking him with a real purpose; the more excited he got, the more precum he leaked, and the more slippery he became. Several times, when his breathing became short and his cock began to pulse in my hands he would say "Wait" or "Stop" or simply "Uh", and I would just hold the base of his quivering dick until he was ready again.
After about an hour or so of this intermittent masturbation, I could tell he was really ready, and he wasn't about to stop me again.
Stroking him with my right hand, I used my thumb to tease the underside of his cockhead, coaxing out more of his precum. Running my index finger over his slit to use it as lubricant on his flaring cockhead, I quickened my pace.
At just the moment that I leaned back a little to watch what I was doing, I felt his legs stiffen against my thighs and his ass raise off my calves. A split-second before he erupted, I could feel the cum rising through his shaft as I frantically stroked him off.
SPLAT, the first shot landed high on his chest, followed by a pearly white arc of cream which danced in the faint light before landing in a pool above his belly button; as I slowed my pace, three more powerful spasms shook his body, adding to the mess on his midsection. A couple more, weaker, bursts covered the outside of my hand with his hot, molten seed.
Lowering my head again and looking down on him, I sat transfixed, still holding onto his jumping cock, amazed at the amount of cum covering him. If I hadn't leaned back, my face would've been covered, I was sure. I stroked up once, but he said "Oh, stop!"; I knew how sensitive he must have been.
As he came down from his powerful climax, the smell of his cum mixed with the scent of the lotion and hung heavy in the air; through the flowery scent of the lotion, his cum was earthy and masculine and smelled very faintly of musk and bleach and pennies.
Some unknown desire inside me made me want to taste it, but I didn't want him to see me do that, so I just reached out my cum-covered hand and began runnning my fingers and palm through the pools on his chest and stomach, gently rubbing it into his skin and working up a lather.
He lay very still and quiet, his breathing back to normal.
I layed down next to him, gathering up the sheet and blanket to cover us. As I put my head on my pillow and turned on my side away from him, I brought my hand to my face and quietly inhaled the foamy cum on my palm and then the ribbon of cum that still clung to the backside of my hand. Lowering it slightly to my lips, I licked it tentatively, at first, then completely, savouring its texture and slightly salty taste.
"Goodnight", I said, feeling kind of awkward now that all was done.
"'Night", he said, and we drifted off to sleep.
TO BE CONTINUED...
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homo_erotica@hotmail.com