By our freshman year in high school Clay and I were jerking one another off regularly, but we still hadn't quite gotten over feeling guilty about it. We did our best to convince each other we were getting off thinking about girls, always couching our dirty talk in sarcasm, saying things like "Give it to me, bitch", always justifying our erections by making mention of Stephanie Clutter's perfect rack, Audra Kadlec's amazing ass, and so on. I was intimately acquainted with Clay's cock, but would hesitate to rub his shoulder (though I did slap his ass a lot, as ass-slapping is one of those things that even the most narrow-minded heterosexuals seem somehow not to mind.) We did it mostly in his basement, which had a futon, and a television, which was always on while we were jerking off to cover up any undue groaning or ass-slapping.
One night, after a school dance, we were in our accustomed places on the futon, watching an action movie on Cinemax, waiting for midnight to roll around, and the inevitable soft-core pornography. Clay started talking about a junior he had danced with, who had, he was sure, copped a feel of his ass. I was sure she had done no such thing, that he was only gloating about having danced with a junior.
"You're just pissed because I've got bigger balls, bitch," Clay said.
"Oh, c'mon, we both know you don't have bigger balls." This wasn't just bravado on my part: I was pretty sure I actually did have the bigger balls.
"Stand up."
We stood up and dropped our shorts, cupping our balls. We were almost even but that didn't change the fact that I had an indubitable advantage.
"Who has the bigger balls?" I asked.
"I think it's too close to call."
Clay shuffled forward a few inches and took my balls gently in hand. He studied them, squinting. By this time, our cocks were both noticeably swollen, still hanging, but on the rise.
"I mean, they're pretty much dead even."
"You can't really believe that." We were both muttering by now. (We always began muttering when we were about to jerk off.)
Our dick heads brushed against one another. I inhaled sharply.
"Someone's a horny little bitch." Clay grinned, and we watched in silence as our dicks inflated alongside one another. We shucked our shirts, routine custom ever since Clay had ruined an Abercrombie sweater with about a bucketful of jizz.
"Who has the bigger balls?" I insisted.
"Fuck you," he said.
I grabbed his ass with both hands and pulled him into me. The sensation of our penises grinding together caused us both to grunt and lose our balance; we stumbled, managing to fall on the futon, Clay on top, and it was only a few seconds before we resumed, Clay humping my cock very, very slowly, with a kind of restraint I'd never seen before, as if he was afraid I'd say "Get the fuck off me" at any moment. We both stared down at the unbelievably hot picture of our two dicks mashed together. Even as slow as he was going, all the skin contact, all of it new to us, was too much for him. He gave up on holding back, and started humping me forcefully, forgetting even to line our dicks up, fucking my abs with utter abandon, not that I minded. He came with a cry, lowering his head, pressing the sides of our flushed, hot faces together. His hips didn't stop their bucking until he'd emptied every drop, and even then he stayed on top of me, as if in a daze. This was sort of irritating, since I had been very close to coming just when he stopped rubbing against my cock, and I rather roughly rolled over, and snuggled up to his abs, which I smeared with a handful of his still-steaming jizz. Like Clay, I tried to take it slow, and like Clay, I lost all self-control after about ten seconds. After I was finished I rolled off of him, and we lay in silence for at least a minute, until finally, I ventured to say that that had been really fucking hot, and Clay's answer was made by way of an indeterminate grunt.
"How about we try that again in, say, five minutes."
"Only if you admit I've got the bigger balls."
*** Right, well, tell me what you think. I'm a long-time reader, first-time writer, and would appreciate any criticism you might have, suggestions, feedback, etc., especially in regards to the allegorical nature of the futon. Thank you, and good night.