mygayeroticblog

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
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Randy and I were twenty-two. Fast friends since we were sixteen, we were products of our times. We'd grown up during the turmoil of the late sixties, sweated out the final days of the draft as the Viet Nam War wound down, and watched Nixon self-destruct. We talked caringly about these things--things social and political. We seemed so unlike most other guys our age who seemed only to drone on about the weekend's conquests or football scores. Over the years our friendship had been galvanized by differences we'd had, and had overcome.

There were times when I dared to think it. I loved him--as a friend with my head, as a comrade with my heart, but also in a different way. It was lust, and it was because he was a man. At times in the summer we would sit in our shorts, Indian-style, playing cards or checkers. I'd watch on the sly as the pink head of his dick poked through the bottom of his cut-offs. (I always wondered if he did that on purpose, seeking an edge in the game, sensing my concentration would be elsewhere!) I stored the sight away in my mind, as fuel for my fantasies. I could not tell him any of this. As open-minded as he was, it still seemed a risk too big to take. Life without his touch was hard, but life without his presence was unthinkable.

Try as I might to suppress it, the sight of him would always excite me. At the beach, I'd toss him a Frisbee and marvel at his muscles in motion. After a round of body surfing, we'd drag ourselves back on the beach and soak in the warmth of the sun. I'd lie on my stomach while he'd lie on his back, eyes closed tightly. I used that precious little time to let my eyes drink him in. A myriad of little details were in the picture before me: the tiny goosebumps sported by his deeply tanned skin; the heaving of his chest with each breath and the stretching his large round nipples under the strain; the blood pulsing through the veins in his neck; his baby fine hair wafting gently in the breeze; the pores in his skin and the fullness of his lips. His face looked so serene and inviting. I yearned to lay on top of him, to melt over him like butter in the sun.

It wasn't until our annual August camping trip, that I got the chance to drink him all in. We were on a day hike when we saw the sign. Made of thick iron, the letters had been cut out by torch. "NO NUDITY ALLOWED," it intoned. We two rebels just looked at each other and grinned.

God, it was beautiful there. At the bottom of the canyon, a small stream, inches wide, would on occasion balloon into a long, wide pool, flanked by reeds and shrubs on one side and high sandstone cliffs on the other. We spotted several of these pools as we walked, each one more secluded and beautiful than the last. Finally, we found the perfect one, and it was ours alone.

We decided to cross the pool to the rocks against the cliffs. Not knowing how deep the water was and not wanting to get our clothes and belongings wet, we stripped naked and wrapped everything up in our towels. Out into the water we waded until it became so deep that we had to hold everything above our heads and bounce off the bottom. Like waiters carrying trays of food, we made our way to the opposite side. Finally there, we climbed out of the cool water, and laid down on the warm rocks. Nude, rolled on our sides, we discussed our good fortune.

After a while we got out our ever-present magnetic game board to play some Chinese checkers. I longed to play with his dick, but at least I was able to let my eyes wander down to it. Previously shrivelled by the coolness of the water, it had now begun to grow heavy. If he knew I was staring he didn't let on, and after a while he drew one leg up, placing his foot on his knee. His balls shifted in their loose sack. Gravity siezed them. They rolled forward. God, this had to be an invitation of some kind, but it was so subtle I couldn't be sure.

Too quickly the afternoon slipped by and the time had come to head back to camp. We both had developed dark tans over the summer, but being bareassed in the sun was a new experience and, inadvertently, we'd burned our butts! Our shorts chafed agaist our tender skin all the way back, but it was a small price to be paying for all the beautiful sites to which I'd been privy that afternoon.

We'd found an out-of-the-way place to bivouac, so it came as no surprise when, arriving at our campsite, Randy declared it hurt too much to wear anything. I signalled my agreement and we again shucked our clothes. As the sky blazed orange from the setting sun, we lit a small fire, ate dinner, and rolled out our sleeping bags. The night air felt warm and refreshing, and made me feel acutely aware of our nakedness. Not yet ready to sleep, we stretched out on top of our bags for a little conversation and a few hands of cards. It was much like the afternoon, except now the flickering fire highlighted his light pink groin while the rest of his tanned body blended into the darkness.

The cards were dealt and a few rounds were played. It was Randy's turn. He started to chew on his lip in a way I understood all to well--his turn was going to take a while. He studied is cards. I studied his dick. The dancing firelight seemed to set it in motion. It was hypnotic.

"You going to play or what?"

"Huh?" I was caught. "God, please, help me now," I thought.

"We're playing cards. Remember?"

"You were taking so long my mind started to wander." It was a feeble attempt to cover the truth.

"Yeah, sure."

I had expected those words, but they weren't said with disgust. There was, in fact, the hint of a smile on his lips and a look of mischievousness in his eyes. I was more relieved than hopeful, but still, maybe I'd misread him all these years. We finished the game.

"What do you want to do now?" he asked. I always hated that question. Only one thing ever came immediately to mind.

"It doesn't really matter," I equivocated. I could dream about it, wish for it, but I couldn't bring myself to initiate it. "I'm kinda beat from the all the walking we did today,"

"Me too. I could really use one of your backrubs... if you've got the energy for it."

"Yeah, I could handle that." I always could. "Backrub" always translated to "body massage". It was the one intimacy that was allowed between us; a line we both walked up to without hesitation, but never crossed.

"I've got some lotion with my stuff. Could you rub some in? I think I overdid it in the sun today."

"Sure, get comfortable. I'll be right back." As I returned to him I couldn't help but think that tonight was going to be a night for the truth. We were both naked, he had caught me stealing peeks at his dick and was still willing to let me give him a massage. This was either a demonstration of his trust, or a demonstration of his desire.

I stood over him. I'd seen this sight so many times in my dreams. I knelt down and touched him. It was no dream. I squeezed some lotion into my hands and warmed it. Starting at the calluses on the bottom of his feet, I began working my way up his legs. His body relaxed under my ministrations. As I felt the firmness of his muscles, I marvelled at how they could present such a vision of strength to the eyes and yet be so yielding to the hands. I kneaded his thighs, but stopped at the fold marking the start of his buttocks.

I next worked on his hands, cognizant of the meatiness of his palms, the texture of his fingerprints, and the rigidity of the bones which gave his hands their potent shape and structure. But the power I knew to be in them was not in evidence that night. What was it about his hands that made them so sensual? We interact so much with the world by the touching we do with our hands. In those moments we were, in fact, communicating through ours. With his compliancy, he told me of the profound trust he had placed in me. Through tender touch, I told him of my unquestioned love for him. The messages were so much clearer than any to be heard with the ears or seen with the eyes.

My fingers traversed the landscape of his arms and back. The lotion imparted to his skin a satiny sheen that reflected the firelight. Finally, my hands were on his ass. The twin muscular mounds exploded with goosebumps when I spread the lotion over them. This was the only place that was really sunburned and I gave it special attention. Starting at the base of his spine, I moved lower, kneading his cheeks, watching them cleave in the process. As I moved closer to his legs, he repositioned himself. He was making himself more vulnerable! I wanted to plunge in, to live my fantasy, but he was more than just a willing piece of ass to me. He was the love of my life, and I wanted to see his face.

"Roll over Ran," I said gently. With no hestitation he did. I gazed down upon him as I proceeded to massage his feet and legs. His submission was unmistakable and undeniable. Soon I was straddling his stomach, leaning forward on my knees, exploring the ridges and valleys of his abdominal muscles. With each breath his ribs rose and fell beneath me. At last I molded my hands to his wonderfully sculpted chest. So broad, so muscular, I couldn't feel the ribs underneath. As I touched his nipples they contracted, forcing the nubs to attention. I felt his heart beat stronger.

Suddenly, I became aware of the heat between us. I'd already lost the day-long battle against my own erection and now I could feel a warmth--low and behind me. I turned to look. That for which I had wished so long was coming to pass. It was his cock, filling with blood, pulsing, arching its way towards me. I looked at his beautiful face below and leaned to touch it, to finish the massage. As I did so, his penis pressed hard against me. The blood rushed into my groin and I began to weaken. Attempting to steady myself, I cupped his face with my hands. I rubbed his strong cheekbones gently with my trembling thumbs. He raised his hand, placed it on my shoulder, and slowly opened his eyes. Through our eyes, the windows to our souls, it all was conveyed--the complete truth.

"Come here," he bid me.

I sank down onto him. My ass pushed back against his cock, almost seeming to cradle it. My own tool, roaring hard, was sandwiched by our warm, moist, lotion-lubricated stomachs. My tongue met his and our lips sealed around them. Heretofore content in my own mouth, it went berserk in his. I held is head in my hands like the sacred object it was. I felt the roughness from the day's growth of beard. "My God," I thought. "This is what it's like to kiss a man, to experience him with every sense there is."

I wrapped my arms and legs around him, as content as I had ever hoped to be. We were woven together, only our tongues in motion, but then he took the bottle of lotion and squeezed some in his hand.

"Hunch up on your knees, Bud." I'd always loved that term of endearment and I knew I'd love what was coming next. He smeared the lotion in my ass and then popped a finger inside. I moved back up to smother again his mouth with mine. His finger moved deeper inside until it pressed upon my prostate. I felt the release of fluid rush down the length of my penis and out onto his stomach. A moan escaped my mouth and I felt it reverberate in his chest. I heard the squishy sound of lotion as he stroked himself to full hardness.

"Do it. I've wanted it for so long," I confessed at last.

With one hand he pulled me forward against my weight; with the other he lined himself up to plug my anxious hole. Then he eased me back against him. I felt myself open up and then stretch wide as the head of his dick pushed through. In startled reflex, my arms closed tightly around him. We froze in gentle embrace until I could relax. Gradually, more and more of his rod penetrated me. My balls nestled into his cushiony pubic hair and I knew his dick was home. My heart pumped blood through the vessels in my tightly stretched sphincter in counterpoint rhythm to that of his steadily throbbing member.

It had taken years to get this far. I slowly sat up and looked at him. Full and deep inside me, he opened those angelic eyes and flashed a devilish grin. I began to rock gently back and forth. His chest rose, and with a low groan, fell. Our lovemaking progressed by slow degrees, and as our movements became more pronounced, he reached out with his hand to me, first touching my dick, then encircling it.

We rapidly approached the flash point. Our bodies glistened with sweat and our breathing had turned to panting. When the action of his hand upon me became more frenetic, I knew I was on the brink.

"I could do this all night, Ran, but if you keep that up I'm gonna cum!"

"Shit, man, we will do it all night! Nobody says you can only cum once a day. Let it go!"

So close to blowing my own wad, I turned my attention to him, wanting to bring him over the top with me. I reached down and felt his shaft sliding in and out my chute. I slid my hand down and cupped his balls. With my thumb, I pressed firmly where the spongy underside of his dick met his dancing nutsack. His whole body tensed and froze. I had gotten to his prostate the easy way. He uttered no sound, inhaled no breath, made no movement. He gripped my handle as if to keep from falling into some deep crevasse--but he had no chance. I gently squeezed his clutch of eggs, pushing him off the precipice, determined myself to follow him down.

I felt the first spasm of his meat and the explosion in my bowels. That set me off. My ass contracted around him as he continued to pump into me. We each fed off the orgasm of the other. My churned cream shot out and landed on his tanned chest. A small pool formed in the hollow at the base of his neck. The body that had been so at rest as I massaged it earlier was now unleashed, blasting its blueprint into me. Wave after wave of convulsive contentment washed over us. I collapsed against him, my semen serving as mortar, cementing our bodies together. Under me I felt him shudder one last time.

He made no effort to withdraw, but soon that terrific cock, which had been so hard for so long, began to deflate and, alas, slide out.

I straightened myself out beside him. Toe to toe, and tongue to tongue, we intertwined our legs, kissed, and propped ourselves up on our elbows. Neither of us said anything for a long, long time. It was a magic moment; we were meshed together at the waist, but that didn't seem to matter. We were meshed together in our minds.

Randy broke the spell. "You think you could concentrate on a card game now?" What a grin he was wearing!

It was quite a night for firsts. It was my first night of real sex. And it was my first night of truthful love. But it was also the first night of a certainty that we had reached a point in our relationship where we knew we'd be sitting together on a park bench in our eighties, never having drifted apart, always a part of each other's lives.

Night that will always be remembered

My Thirteenth Summer

All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
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"Kevin. Kevin." My mother's voice and a knock on the door got my attention. I quickly pulled my briefs up, my boner still throbbing from the good feelings my hand had been giving it.

"I'm up, mom," I yelled, hopping out of bed and pulling on a pair of cut-offs.

"Good," she replied through the door. "Go help your dad and your brother load the trailer. We're going to try and get an early start and stop for breakfast a little further down the road."

I stepped into my sandals and pulled a t-shirt over my head then, grabbing my duffle bag, trotted down the stairs and out to the driveway. My brother Josh was standing there, looking stupid, his long red hair all mussed up and his eyes puffed up from sleep. The front of his gym shorts were poking out a little, making me wonder again how big his dick was and how much hair he had down there.

At fifteen, Josh was almost exactly three years older than me; our birthdays were only three days apart. We weren't very close, we each had our own room and bathroom, and he always, for the last few years anyway, wore gym shorts around the house, so I'd never really gotten a good look at his stuff.

I knew that it was kind of twisted to be interested in that, but I couldn't help it. I hadn't even given it a thought, other boy's dicks and stuff, until I'd started Jr. High, and had to start taking gym. They'd made some kind of mistake with my schedule and put me in a 9th grade P.E. class and the first day we had to take showers my eyes had almost bugged out of my head.

I mean, I'd seen other boys naked before. My friend Ryan and I had always taken a shower together at camp last summer. But he looked pretty much like me down there. His dick had been a little fatter and a little shorter, but his balls were tiny like mine and he sure didn't have any hair.

But some of those 9th graders sure did. All of 'em had at least a little patch of hair above their dicks, and lots had hairy balls too. There were even a couple of the boys that had hair on their chests. And their dicks were all different sizes too. There was one boy they called monster cock who had this ugly, veiny thing that hung almost all the way to his knees, and a poor kid they called stub dick. A few of the boys still had their foreskins, and they got kidded sometimes too. They picked on me a lot too, flicking their wet towels at me, calling me a baby and stuff. So I just hurried in, washed off as quick as I could, then got dressed as fast as I could.

But one day they'd been choosing up sides for touch football, and like always I was one of the last to be picked when this guy walked up to me and asked me to come run with him. His name was Bill Reynolds and he was on the track team. He told me that he had seen me run and thought that I could be pretty good if I worked at it. He convinced me to go out for the team and I made it. So after that I started hanging around with Bill in gym.

He looked just like I wanted to look. He had a patch of blond hair just above his dick, and a little on his lower legs, but the rest of his body was smooth. He was thin, but more muscular than me. I wished sometimes that he was my brother instead of Josh, and he seemed to like me too. We ran or did calisthenics during P.E. while the rest of the guys played football, and stood near each other in the showers afterwards. My friend Ryan accused me of having a crush on Bill, claiming I talked about him all the time, but I just think he was jealous. Both because a ninth grader wanted to be friends with me and because I was starting to get some pubic hair.

"C'mon Kev," my dad yelled from the open door at the center of the trailer, "throw your bag on up here." I tossed it to him and went over to stand next to Josh.

"Well, here we go," I said.

"Yeah, here we go," he replied, glumly. Josh had pitched a fit when dad had announced that the whole family was going to Mexico for six weeks. He started talking about how he was old enough to stay home alone, how he had his own life and mom and dad were just trying to keep him from getting his driver's license and a bunch of crap like that. Of course it didn't do him any good. I could've told him that. Sometimes he acted pretty stupid. Like fifteen year olds get to stay alone at home for six weeks all the time.

I didn't really want to go either, but knew I had to so I tried to act enthusiastic and make mom and dad happy. I really needed to spend a couple of weeks at scout camp: I needed to get five more merit badges by the fall so I could get Eagle, and sometimes I thought about seeing Ryan in the shower again. I would also have been cool to run with Bill. But Dad knew all that, and that's why we were only going for six weeks. I'd get to go to the last two weeks of camp, Josh would get his license long before school started, and mom and dad would get the thrill of having a family vacation.

After about an hour of running around and forgetting things we all climbed into the Suburban and pulled out of the driveway, on our way to family fun.

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Dad was wearing chinos, a blue pocket-t, snakeskin boots with a matching belt. His hair looked a little scraggly under the big straw cowboy hat that Josh hated him to wear, but his beard and moustache were trimmed until they were pointy.

Mom had on a yellow sun dress with a matching floppy hat. She wore her hair, red like Josh's, pulled back into a pony tail and always looked prettiest when she didn't have on any makeup.

Josh still had on his tight fitting Addidas gym shorts, which matched his shirt and his shoes. Even though he didn't run, he was always wearing Addidas stuff. Most of the time he wore running shoes, jeans, and a flannel shirt, just like all the other guys he hung around with. His skin was pale, with just a few freckles on his face. He had long eyelashes and I noticed that he was starting to get some hair down on his lower legs and that started me wondering about his dick and balls again.

I had on cut-offs, this cool Mexican shirt I got at the head shop at the mall, and these sandals that had a sole that was made out of an old tire. I had blond hair and was just starting to get a tan.

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The trip got off to a good start. The Suburban was really comfortable to ride in and the trailer was much more comfortable than our old truck camper. We headed south down to the Yucatan peninsula first; my dad really had this thing about Mayan ruins. About four weeks into the trip we were at Mexico city, and everybody, dad included, decided that we'd had enough antiquities for the summer and would spend our last couple of weeks on the beach.

The only thing I didn't like was having to share a bed with Josh.

Mom and dad had a little bedroom at the back end of the trailer, and we had to sleep on the dinette which collapsed into a bed. It was plenty big enough, and Josh usually didn't smell any worse than I did, but I was afraid to jerk off with him laying that close to me. Occasionally I would sneak off to a campground bathroom and rub myself until the good feelings came, but not nearly as much as I had done it at home.

Maybe that's why I started having those dreams. I would be in the shower with Ryan or Bill or sometimes both and we would move close to each other and I'd wake up with my heart pounding and my dick straining against my shorts.

Well, anyway, the night before we left for the beaches on the Pacific coast I had a real doozy of a dream. It was me and Bill taking a shower again and we moved closer and closer to each other until we were rubbing our hard things together. It felt really great and I must have been tossing and turning a lot because suddenly I heard Josh kind of yell, "Oh Fuck," waking me up.

I realized that I had scooted all the way over to his side of the bed because he was pressed up against my back, so hard that I could feel his hard dick rubbing against my ass cheeks. I quickly rolled over to my side, but not before I felt something wet on the back of my undershorts. I figured it must have been sweat.

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The third day we were at the beach I was getting kind of bored. As usual, my folks had picked the most deserted place in the world, and there were nothing but old retired people in the campgrounds. Josh was acting really weird, looking at me funny, and even wearing his gym shorts to bed, so I was left pretty much on my own. That afternoon I'd come back from my walk along the beach to discover a VW camper parked next to our trailer. Sitting behind it was a brown haired boy, about my age, rubbing some sun tan lotion on his already brown legs.

"Hey dude," he said, "that your folks' trailer?" I told him it was and we talked for a while. He told me that his name was Randy, he was from Bakersfield, California, was thirteen, and was traveling with his brother and his brother's girlfriend. He seemed all right and we agreed to meet the next morning to go exploring for a while.

The next morning we'd taken off, heading down the beach, stopping every once in a while to take a swim. About 10 we were getting thirsty and we stopped at this little stand to buy a coke. There were a bunch of little shelters there, facing the beach, and we found an empty one and sat in it looking at the water and drinking our drinks.

"I can get a girl pregnant," Randy said, out of the blue. "Can you?"

"No," I replied, a little embarrassed to admit that I wasn't shooting yet, and finding it weird to even talk about the subject. "At least I guess not."

"Well, you're only twelve," he replied with the smugness six months can give you when you're that age. "I didn't do it 'till after my thirteenth birthday either."

He was laying there with his legs stretched out, and I couldn't help but notice as he reached down and gave his dick a squeeze through his cut-offs.

I was starting to feel a little uncomfortable, not just because Randy was talking about sex, but because my own dick was so hard that it felt like it was going to break off. I stretched my own legs out and tried to inconspicuously adjust myself.

"I'm really horny," Randy said, as if it was a normal thing for two boys to talk about. And, for all I knew, maybe it was in California.

"I usually jerk off two or three times a day," he continued, "but sleeping in the van with my brother and Suzy is really cramping my style." He started to rub his crotch more forcefully.

"I know what you mean," I said. He stood up and poked his head out of the entrance to the shelter. When he turned back toward me I could see his dick clearly through the faded material of his jeans.

He gave his hard on a rub. "You want to do it?" he asked, looking directly at my crotch.

"What," I said, startled, excited, my heart beating. "Here? With you?" My voice choked; my mouth was dry.

"Yeah, sure," he replied. "My buddy's and I do it together all the time back home." He groped himself more forcefully. "There's nobody around."

I watched in amazement as he unsnapped his cut-offs and pulled the zipper down, revealing a triangle of white underneath. He plopped down on the sand beside me, and pushed, as I watched intently, the elastic band of his briefs downward, revealing first a little bush of brown pubes, then, with a pop, his proud, stiff penis, its head glowing bright red. He grabbed it between his thumb and fingers and gave it a stroke. "Geez, that feels good," he said. He looked right at my crotch. "Aren't you going to do it," he asked.

I felt like I was in a trance as I unfastened my shorts and pulled my own dick out. I matched Randy stroke for stroke, fascinated by his technique, as he worked his hard penis. I didn't take long for that feeling to start building up, that delicious pain that caused my whole body to shudder when it peaked, then ebbed away. Just as I crested I watched Randy tense up, his hand squeezing his cock as a glob of white cream oozed out of the tip, followed by a spurt of clear liquid. He sat there, frozen for a minute as I continued to stroke my own cock, then he started to put his away.

"Sorry man," he said, with a sheepish grin on his face. "Once you start to shoot, once is all you can do. You have to take a break for a while."

"O.k.," I replied, kind of shrugging my shoulders and sticking my still hard prick back into my shorts.

We were kinda quiet as we walked back to the campground, but we did arrange to meet again after lunch.

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When I got to the trailer, mom, dad, and Josh were already sitting around the dinette, eating some sandwiches. I slid in beside Josh and started to make myself a B.L.T.

"Did you have a good time?" my mom asked.

"Yes'm," I replied. "Randy's real nice."

"Is he?," Josh said, in the funny way he did sometimes. "How nice is he? What kind of games did you play?"

I didn't really know what to say to that so I didn't say anything. My dad started making those harrumphing noises he does when he has something important to say so I turned toward him.

"Well Kevin," he said. "I'm sorry to have to say this, with you just meeting a new friends and all, but we have to be on our way tomorrow."

I kinda shrugged and said o.k. I was having fun with Randy, but it wasn't like we were best friends or anything.

When I met him after lunch we walked down the beach in the opposite direction from what we had that morning. I told him that we were leaving the next morning and he said he was sorry to see me go.

This part of the beach was really deserted and we walked for about half an hour without seeing anyone. He pulled off his t-shirt while we were walking, so I pulled off mine too. Randy was a little more stocky than me, and had some hair under his arms. The coolest thing about him, though, was his tits. They looked kind of puffy, all poked out, and for some reason I wondered if they would feel good to play with.

Randy dropped his shirt and towel, kicked off his sneakers, and then turned to me with a wicked grin. "Feel like going skinny dipping?" he asked. He dropped his shorts and briefs in one swoop and ran down into the surf. I liked the way his butt was really pale compared to the rest of his body.

I took a look around and shrugged my shoulders. It wouldn't hurt me to get naked. I dropped my cut-offs and ran out to where Randy was standing in the waist deep water taunting me.

I jumped on him and he grabbed me and next thing I knew we were wrestling in the surf, our smooth bodies sliding against each other in the warm water. It felt really great and you can bet I had a hard on. We fooled around for about half an hour than went back to where our clothes were. Randy spread out his towel and sat down on it and I sat down beside him.

"That was fun," he said.

"Yeah," I replied, looking down at his lap where his hard little cock was sticking straight out. "What we did this morning was fun too."

I giggled and gave my own boner a squeeze.

Randy wriggled around on the towel until our sides were touching. "Kevin," he said quietly.

"Yeah?"

"Me and my friends at home," he said hesitantly. "Sometimes, we .... help each other out."

"How?"

"Well, we jerk each other off," he said. "But if you don't want to, that's o.k."

I didn't say anything, but just reached over with my right hand a gently touched his hard dick. He gave out kind of a gasp and reached for mine. It was great. His hand was soft and his rhythm was different than mine so I never knew what to expect. And his prick felt really good in my hand too, kind of hot and hard and soft all at the same time.

It was kind of nice the way we were sitting too. He had his head leaning on my shoulder, and our cheeks were rubbing together. It felt really good to be close to somebody like that. I was thinking about kissing him but he gave a little jerk and I saw the stuff running out of his dick again.

I was curious. It ran down on to my hand and felt warm. I lifted my hand to my face and gave a sniff. Nothing. With the tip of my tongue I licked it. There was a salty taste, but I don't know if it was Randy's stuff or the sea water.

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A few days after we got home, dad took me down to this Methodist church where I was supposed to meet the troop I was going to camp with, since mine had gone earlier in the summer. There were some kids I knew from school there, and I was talking to them when Ryan showed up. It turned out that he had gone to camp with a different troop every week this summer. We didn't even have to decide to tent together.

The first night after the campfire, we laid around in our tent is just our undershorts telling each other about our summers. Ryan told me about this kid named Blake that was our age and new to the troop who he'd been hanging out with. I told him about meeting Randy, but not about what we'd done together. Ryan and I had never talked about jerking off or anything before, and I wasn't sure how he would handle it.

After a while we got quiet and I must have drowsed off. I woke up and heard a rhythmic squeaking sound. I was laying on my back with the sheet kicked off, and when I turned my head toward Ryan's bed I got a surprise. He was sitting on the edge of his bunk, his briefs around his knees, playing with his fat wiener and staring straight at me.

Not wanting to startle him, I slowly slid my hand down to my own hard prick and started to play with it. I pulled it out of my jockey's and started to fist it pretty good.

He started to speed up the strokes on his own cock, and we watched each other for quite a while.

The next morning we got up bright and early and went down to take a shower. We were standing there, looking at each other as the warm water rolled over our backs and I decided to make a little joke. "Looks like your winky got quite a work out last night, its kind of red."

Ryan glared at me and turned around and turned off his shower.

"Don't talk about," he hissed. "Don't you ever talk about it." He grabbed his towel and stormed out of the shower room. I figured that that was the end of our jerk off games.

But I was wrong. That night he didn't even wait as long before he was sitting on the edge of his bunk, watching me watching him, both of us playing with our dicks.

It was an o.k. week at camp. I earned merit badges in rowing, canoeing, nature, lifesaving, and archery and finished all my requirements for Eagle.

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I'd been home from camp for about three days when the front door bell rang. I opened it and there stood Bill.

"Hey man," I said. "I was going to give you a call and see if you wanted to go running."

"Oh, hi Kevin," he replied. "I thought you were still at camp."

I was kinda surprised. If he thought I was still at camp, what was he doing here? Just then Josh came bounding down the stairs. "Hey Bill," he exclaimed. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah, sure," Bill said as he followed my brother out to the family's old station wagon. "See you around, Kevin."

Later that week I was up in my room, laying in bed and having a leisurely jerk off. I was thinking about Bill, and Ryan, but mostly Randy and the feeling was really building up strong. I thought about the time I had tasted Randy's stuff, and suddenly it felt like something caught down there. Next thing I knew there was a spurt, then another one, then a dribble coming out of my dick and it felt so good that I had to stop.

Randy had been right about two things. One, once you shot you had to stop for a while. Two, turning thirteen makes all the difference. I shot my first load three weeks and two days after my thirteenth birthday.

mygayeroticblog

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

stay tuned for more

Two Gay Lovers

The Lab Experiment

The First Night

Night that will always be remembered

My Thirteenth Summer

My First Sexual Experience