Ring in Mine

By Kim Hansen

Published on Oct 30, 2017

Bisexual

Ring in Mine

Kim Terry

I rushed this post also. I hope I have the majority of errors corrected. My last step usually is having a friend proof the printed manuscript. In an effort to get the remaining chapters posted I did a final proofreading from the screen.

Thank your for the emails. I appreciate even a short, "I'm reading your story," goes a long way.

If you enjoy the stories on Nifty, please send a little something. Help support the cause. If you like Nifty donate. If you are nervous about using a credit card they accept PayPal. http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

I would appreciate a short email if you are still reading my story. ringinmine@yahoo.com

All rights are reserved to the author except those given to Nifty to publish and archive this work. Please do not repost without permission of the author.

(If there are errors I do apologize up front. I find proofreading is a lot like steam cleaning your carpet. It doesn't matter how many times you go over something you still find another error or two.)

Note: Due to many requests for more information about John and Marty, the other two victims in chapter 34, After the epilogue this story will continue with two or possibly three short stories exploring how these characters came to be in that dark situation and how they coped with the experience.

Kim

Ring in Mine: Chapter 45 "That was my first time." Jerry announced. "Ok Skip, we know you haven't done much. You haven't sucked or fucked. What have you done?


I never really paid much attention to a guy's stuff. Quick looks and comparison checks but that is about it. I didn't hit puberty until high school. When it hit it hit fast. The spring on my sophmore year I was little dicked and not a pubic hair in sight. By the following winter when my gym class started I looked pretty much like this. Then it was me the guys were looking at. There were a lot of unfriendly taunts in the shower. It got to the point I always played on the shirts teams and avoided the showers.

I went to college the year after high school getting some credits and working to save money. I was seriously dating a young lady. She was very prim and proper. A perfect example of what the church thought a young woman should be. We did enjoy each other's company.

Just a month before I left on my mission she asked me to attend a friend's pool party. I tried to beg off but she wanted everyone to meet the young man that she was going to wait two years for. I wore baggy shorts and a black t-shirt. I was very self conscious about my hairy body. While in the pool one of her friends managed to slide her hand under my shirt.

"Gross! He's hairy all over!" She shouted. My girlfriend wouldn't be content until I took my shirt off.

"Harold, I am glad to find out now before I waited two years. Your hair is gross. We can call this relationship over." My girlfriend of a year declared.

I pulled my wet shirt back on and went into the pool house to change back into street clothes. I was too embarrassed to go back in the pool. One of her friends followed me. I had stripped off my wet swimsuit ready to pull on my underwear when she appeared. She shut and locked the door behind her. She stepped up to me and took my underwear from my hands.

"She is crazy. I think you are perfect." She ran her hands through my chest hair. She dropped to her knees and ran her hands over my legs. Her hands cupped my hairy ass. She cupped my balls. "Perfect, I love it all."

"Would you consider taking me on a date and see if we get along?" She did a quick caress of my dick and gave me the first kiss that was more than a peck.

We went to a movie the next night. She asked me to wear shorts and a tank top. I only had a couple more weeks of dressing like that. I didn't mind taking a few more opportunities to dress like a heathen, my mom called it. We went out for sundaes. She was well read and could converse about anything. It was great.

Where my previous girlfriend and I shared a couple of interests, Jessica and I had many things in common. That was our last night at a theater. She much prefered to watch a video at home, me with my shirt off and wearing shorts. She loved laying her head against my chest. I was her real man, not one of these bare almost men.

Jessica wrote to me all through my mission. She would send some pretty wild letters. While on a mission you are never alone except in the bathroom. It was there, letter in hand, I could take care of my needs. More of her letters had semen spots than those that didn't. I told her about that in one letter. She sent an extra sheet of paper for me to cum on and send it back. Finding somewhere for it to dry out before I mailed it was tricky.

I knew more than one of my companions used restroom time for the same thing I did. It's hard to muffle the sounds of beating off.

I had a month to go and had just been given a new missionary to train before I left, Brigham. He often talked about the special person he had left back home, hoping they would wait for him.

I came out of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around me. I had left my underwear on the floor and somehow more of the water ended up outside of the shower. I stepped into the bedroom for a new pair. Laying on his bed, Brigham, letter in hand, dick through his fly was working out a good one.

"Sorry I couldn't wait. This letter is so hot. Maybe this is a good thing. We won't have to wait our turn in the bathroom." He observed.

I had never seen another guy beat off. He had something I had never seen before, an uncut dick. I couldn't take my eyes off of his hand sliding the skin back and forth over the head of his dick. I didn't answer, the hard on under my towel told the whole story.

"Grab your letter and we can do it at the same time." My latest letter was probably the hottest I had received. Jessica talked about looking forward to sliding my dick deep inside of her. She had waited for so long. She needed her man and his cock at home. I had no trouble reading the letter naked on my bed with my hand in my fist. He shot all over his undershirt and dribbled onto his bottoms. He wiped up the mess with his underwear. Standing there naked he used the same pair to mop up the mess spread across my stomach. It was the closest I had ever been to another cock and this one was uncut with a fold of skin hanging over the edge.

I didn't want to get out of bed and get dressed. For the first time I slept naked and enjoyed it.

This became our new norm. After dinner we would take our respective showers and stay naked. It seemed a little dirty to do our evening scripture study in the nude. It was at the table or laying on my bed. Just before bedtime we would take our cocks in hand and relieve the day's tensions. The pretense of the letters had been forgotten

One night after a particular good release, a massive thunder storm shook the house. A warm body was soon cuddled up to my side with its head on my chest. Brigham shook with every clap of thunder. I put my arm around him and pulled him closer. This was the first time since childhood I remembered having someone cuddle up with me in bed.

The storm continued through the night. High winds shook the house and rattled the windows. We weren't allowed a tv. The next morning we received an early call telling us that we were dealing with the leftovers of a hurricane. There was a state of emergency and we were to stay in the apartment until the thing blew over. We looked out the window the road was full of water. Rain was falling horizontally pushed by the high winds. Just as we finished cooking breakfast the lights flickered and went out.

Brigham was an avid solitaire player even though we weren't supposed to have cards. We played cards for much of the day. We soon had to dress as the chill from outside made its way into our home. In the evening there wasn't enough light coming through the windows to comfortably see the cards. There wasn't anything to do but go to bed. We took the blankets from both beds, striped down and snuggled up under all the bedding in the apartment. We talked about our lives back home.

I talked about Jessica. When he talked about his special person back home he always used the pronoun they, never she. I thought that strange. Brigham was much more experienced than I. He talked about blow jobs and intercourse. He went on this mission for his parents while his loved one finished college.

In the middle of the night I woke when a crash from outside reached into my dreams. I was on my back. Brigham's head lay on my chest, his hand wrapped around my dick and balls. I should have been upset. Really it was the first hand besides mine to explore that forbidden territory. I liked the feeling of his warm hand there. So I left it where it lay and slipped back into slumber.

The next morning, I woke snuggled up to Brigham's back. My hard dick lay between his warm cheeks. This time it was my hand on his balls. I rolled his nuts around in my hand. It was an interesting feeling that I enjoyed. How sick could I be finding pleasure playing with a guy's balls. I felt his soft cock growing and I wrapped my hand around it, much like I would my own. The way all that extra skin slid across the head must feel real good. I found myself seriously beating his meat.

There was a knock on the door. I pulled on a pair of gym shorts and threw my towel over my shoulder. At the door was our landlord's wife. She looked at my attire. My shorts were definitely showing some tenting.

"I was just going to hop in the shower." I apologized.

"You are lucky the water heater is gas." She reassured me.

"Breakfast will be ready in 15 minutes. No need to dress up." She offered with a final crotch to neck visual scan.

I met Brigham coming out of the bathroom drying his hair. He said nothing about my morning activities. Maybe I got away with it.

Our apartment was a studio over the garage. Our landlords were getting up there in age and liked having the missionaries nearby. They invited us to dinner at least once a week. Today they had cooked breakfast using the camp stove on their covered patio. Without power a hot breakfast was welcome.

She had said to dress casual so we were commando in basketball shorts and t shirts. Our landlord had been a plumber before he retired. He still had a gas powered pump. We drug the hoses out to the gutter and began draining the basement. At least most of the six inches of water in the basement was clean rain water. We spent the rest of the morning taking everything that had gotten wet out of the basement and set it on the patio to dry. After the storm it was becoming warm and muggy. Our landlady had suggested we take our shirts off. From the way she watched us work, I think she was enjoying the scenery.

We were in a neighborhood of seniors. We spent the day moving from house to house down the street repeating the process of pumping out the basement and moving things out into the sun to dry. As we sat down to dinner with our grateful landlords, she told us that our supervisor had come by to check on us. She had told him of the work we were doing for the neighbors. He complimented us on our service and told her we should continue helping others instead of proselytizing. I was just grateful he didn't see our lack of attire. We had come home dirty and muddy. I had been glad we hadn't worn something hard to wash out.

Our shorts and shirts were rinsed out and hanging on the shower bar. Neither of us were free from aches and pains. Brigham offered to rub my back. He started straddling my back. I could feel his bare cock against my skin. He massaged first one knot and then another. Finished with my back he worked his way up my legs and spent extra time on my ass. Since it hurt from the day's labors I didn't complain.

When he asked me to turn over I was somewhat shy. I didn't want him to think I was a pervert or something. I was rock hard.

"You are no harder than me. Flip over." Brigham demanded. Sure enough his hard cock was swinging from side to side. Even hard the skin hung over the end of his dick. After my front was done, minus my hard meat, it was his turn. I tried to give as good a massage as he had given me. He did have some suggestions as I worked. Unlike Brigham I ended the massage by once again rolling his balls in my hand and pulled the skin back off his dick head.

"What's it like being uncut?" I asked. He talked about being more sensitive and being different than most guys in the shower, but he was glad his parents had left him intact.

"Do you really want to know what it feels like?" Brigham asked. I nodded. We stood face to face, dick to dick. He put the head of his dick against mine and stretched his foreskin over the head of my dick. From that moment on I wished I was uncut. It felt so good wrapped in that warm skin. Brigham had enough skin he could somewhat move it back and forth like beating off. When he shot all over my dick head, I couldn't control it. I also shot my load into his skin. Cum was dripping out around my dick. He wasn't releasing our softening dicks from our shared enclosure. It was pretty hot. He caught the dripping cum in his hand and put it to his mouth.

A damp washcloth had us ready for bed. I crawled between my sheets and Brigham crawled in next to me. This was a twin bed and we didn't have much choice but cuddle.

The next few days were the same helping others recover from the damage of the storm. We were going back to the first houses and rolling up carpets to take out outside. Each night we came home exhausted from our efforts. We were treated to a warm dinner and headed to bed.

Each night I was given a massage and gave a massage in return. We retreated to bed where we took care of our needs side by side. The fourth night the power was back on. It felt good coming home to a warm apartment. We were informed that as long as we were helping in the clean up efforts dinner would be provided.

After dinner and showers we remade the beds, a cocoon of blankets was no longer needed. Brigham offered a massage and I accepted. As I finished I had a question.

"Do you think we could try that docking thing again?" I hesitantly asked. Brigham lined his dick up with mine and once again I shared the velvety touch of his foreskin. This time it was my hand rubbing the skin over our paired dick heads. Once again he shot first and I followed. This time I gathered our mixed cum and tasted it. Since our last time I had tasted mine most nights. Combined it was even better.

I was expecting Brigham to climb into his own bed. Once he turned the lights out he crawled in with me. The few minutes I had been by myself, my bed had felt empty. With Brigham's head on my chest things were as they should be and I easily fell asleep.

The following day our supervisor found us shoveling mud out of a widow's basement. We were in the attire that we had worn everyday during the clean up, shorts and no shirts.

"Brothers you are not dressed appropriately. This not acceptable. I will have to report you to the mission home." The pompous twit threatened. Just then a similarly attired gentleman also with mud to his knees made an appearance.

"What's the problem, brother?"

"They are half naked. This is wrong. They will be up for disciplinary action for this." He really was a twit. Didn't he know who this man was out of his white shirt and tie. Another brother climbed the stairs dressed like us.

"This is about the best attire for scooping mud." The second man stated. "These boys have done more to improve this neighborhood's opinion of the church in the last week than a year's proselytizing in a white shirt and tie." This man he recognized.

"But president, they are not meeting the required dress standards." He wasn't willing to give up this battle even with his ecclesiastical superior. The church leader handed the boy a shovel.

"Please come help us." The head of the area's mission suggested.

"But I will ruin my clothes!" He countered.

"Now maybe you understand." The church leader explained.

After three weeks of clean up my time had come to an end. I was going to miss having a warm body in my bed. Dressed in white shirt and tie, suitcase in hand, Brigham took me in his arms for a hug.

"I have something I have wanted to give you for a long time." Brigham dropped to his knees, unzipping my fly as he went. He fished my dick from its fabric prison and wrapped his mouth around it. I found my hands running through his hair as he gave me the most intensely pleasurable sensations I had ever experienced.

I came in his mouth. He rose and kissed me passing my cum to me.

"Thank you for your friendship. I think you deserve the truth. My special person is named Trent. We have been a couple since jr. high. I left his address in your bible. He is attending BYU. If you get a chance would you give him a hug for me."

I wanted to return the experience but just then there was a knock on the door. At the door was my replacement and the twit. I gave Brigham a brotherly hug and said goodbye. I spent two days at the missionary center. The leader had asked most of his questions as we had dug the mud out of his widowed aunt's basement.

I arrived home to my family and Jessica just before Christmas. I've only been back in school a couple of months and everyone is talking marriage. I'm not so sure now. I love Jessica but I am so confused. What if I get married and I don't like it. Brigham opened so many doors.

Skip's story was interrupted by an urgent need to pee. With his gloved dick it complicated the simple process. He didn't handle the blood soaked gauze in the least.

"Pee and I'll get Doc." I offered. Doc pronounced Skip healing well. She wrapped it with gauze and rolled one of my rubbers over the whole thing.

"If there is a lot of blood next time then we have to worry."

"You don't have to be one or the other." I explained. "I like it both ways. Jerry is going the straight route." I sighed.

"I'm not sure that finding that special person isn't more important than the sex." I explained.

"Have you found your special person?" Skip asked.

"Yeah, I have." I answered. "I'm not sure he knows it yet."

We crawled into bed. Skip was in the middle. Jerry and I lay our heads on Skip's beautiful hairy chest.

"This is what I've been missing." Skip pulled us closer. He was right it was very comforting knowing my man and I held hands across Skip's hairy stomach.

----------- I would appreciate hearing from you. ringinmine@yahoo.com

Next: Chapter 46


Rate this story

Liked this story?

Nifty is entirely volunteer-run and relies on people like you to keep the site running. Please support the Nifty Archive and keep this content available to all!

Donate to The Nifty Archive
Nifty

© 1992, 2024 Nifty Archive. All rights reserved

The Archive

About NiftyLinks❤️Donate