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Subject: {ASS} Let's Study (b/b first real oral)
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Date: Tue, 19 Apr 2005 14:53:44 +0000
===================
(c) Anonymous; please repost as needed, unchanged.
I am hanging around in my room after school with Jay, a classmate, and I
find myself entertaining him by tittering at National Geographic pictures
of naked African boys' butts. Nudist cultures fascinate me (more so than if
I'd been raised in one).
This gives me an idea. At 8, my cousin of the same age had invited me into
my closet, and showed me her (beautiful) pink lips between her legs. The
heady rush of adrenaline was addictive. I reciprocated by showing her my
small pink hard-on.
Now at 11, I ask the magic question, "You want us to look at each
other's..?" Jay eagerly bobs his blonde curls, "You wanna?" He wasn't
hesitant or angry!
We stand apart, facing each other, like gunfighters at high noon, about to
draw our guns. We unbutton our pants, and take them down a little, showing
our underwear. Jay asks, "Who first?"
"At the same time. One, two, three!"
Down comes the underwear, and Jay's friendly pink head points straight at
me. We have surprisingly mutual erections, both circumcised, with hairless
balls and almost grown penises. His is a little larger, and as it points up
at me I can see down its slightly crooked shaft. His pink hole is a
sideways smile. My 6 inch dick twists to my left, with a smooth shaft
tapering to a prow-
shaped glans, with a crown of pink wrinkly skin and a pointy tip. His glans
is a bit larger, a bit rounder, darker, and smoother.
Now that the presentation is over, and now that our relationship has
changed, we relax and sit around talking, with our pants down around our
knees, and slowly flagging erections. Jay shows how to pinch his glans to
make his little hole open, like a mouth. Inside is the purple tube that
life comes thru. I pinch my head, with less well-
defined results. (Among penises, my glans apparently does not inflate all
the way.)
I grab his dick, just to feel it, not to stroke. Inside the sleeve of skin,
a penis is two hard shafts, linked at the top with a little groove,
straddling the soft tube of the urethra underneath. He grabs mine; we both
squeeze while our fingers underneath stroke the tube.
Jay asks, "You want to trace it?" I can't figure out what he means. He
means take a paper pad, lay the dick on it, and push a pen along the
outline. We each try, with unsatisfactory results. The line shakes and
wobbles. I wonder what my folks would think if they find these papers.
We eventually zip up, and return to normal play, but with a new tone of
familiarity and intimacy to our talk.
The next day Jay shows up again. Up to my room, pants down, and we take up
where we left off. Jay suggests, "Let's 'study'. That means we just lay in
bed looking at each other's dicks.
Jay lays in my bed and I get in after him to gaze fondly at his plumbing.
Jay's scrotum is crinkly and firm, contracted around his balls. My
attention keeps his dick hard and stiff, arcing back towards his belly.
Grabbing the scrotum, I feel the smooth hard-boiled egg of a testicle
inside, slipping around on its little tubes.
Jay says it's my turn, meaning his turn. I scoot up while he scoots down,
then he fondles my scrotum, then plays with my dick, a little. That turns
him on more, so he tells me to roll over. My dick suddenly feels neglected,
but Jay lays on my back. His penis nestles between my butt cheeks, pointing
at the small of my back, and he rubs briskly against this firm warm
pleasure dome. Then he suggests I ride him; it feels great.
"What if your dad comes upstairs and finds us?"
I block out how mad he'd be. "Maybe he'd jump in with us!" Jay snickers,
and I imagine a grown, hairy man between us, both us serving his needs,
with three dicks to play with. I find the idea oddly compelling. Pretty
soon we are pulling up our pants again. I hold the buckle to my belt so it
won't jingle.
A couple days later Jay visits, and we lay in bed with our pants down
again. We have no concept of kissing, sucking, or lubrication, just of a
friendly shared perverse diversion. I have learned a new one, so I grab my
erect penis to show him how to pump the skin up and down, fast, like I'm
fucking my hand.
This weirds him out; he stops my hand. Pre-teen sex comes with strange
reservations. "Here; I'll show you." I still want helpfully explain the
technique, so I carefully grab his penis, hold the shaft up at the right
angle that simulates penetration, and rub his smooth skin up and down on
his shaft. He seems to have more skin than I - his dick was easier to
stroke. His ruddy head throbs with the beginnings of pleasure, but he stops
me. "I don't like it." I can't figure out why, but I drop the subject.
All that spring, out in the garage, or out in the woods, or after going
with my family to Sunday school, we play normally, then find a way to be
alone. One of us gives the other that special look, or says a word, or
points, and down comes our pants, out pops our boners.
And before we can progress, and before I can try techniques from my
parent's sex books, I have some strange reservations of my own. One day,
just as summer starts, I find myself dreading his visit. When he arrives, I
just tell him I don't want to play with him, and he leaves in tears.
Maybe for the best - my reticence probably saves me a lot of hassle with my
homophobic parents and neighborhood. Girls start to drive me crazy. They
are for romance and lust (and, of course, babies), and boys are for
perverse relief; different sides of the same lovin' coin. But I didn't
chase any boys.
So, after that year, Jay notices me at our library, and he says, "Remember
me?" I agree to come over to his house the next morning, to show him a
story I was writing. That morning, he likes it, but soon puts it down.
"Let's go downstairs to my room."
"Okay," I said nonchalantly, feigning innocence.
Once down there, he closes the door behind him (his parents are out for the
day), and hesitantly starts to take off my shirt. I roll my eyes, but
unbutton his pants. We both giggle, relieved that we still feel the same
after growing up a little. We pull each other's underwear down, and out
swing our penises.
We have grown larger, and sprouted pubic hair. His is ginger and mine's
black (and curlier than my head hair). My dick is still tapered and pointy.
His, however, has grown quite a bit more. It swings top-heavy, with a
smooth dark knob the size of a walnut at the end. I realize that one
partner of a gay relationship almost always gets to be the smaller one!
We rub together, penis fencing, feeling the warm firm flesh that gratified
our mutual needs. I try to feel all sides of his shaft with all sides of
mine. Soon I'm supine in his bed while he straddles me, rocking, my hand
around both our dicks together. This is the ultimate masturbation; the
tubes on the undersides of our penises feel delicious, sliding together
under our tender, joined skin.
Then I push him flat on his back, hold up his penis, and swirl my tongue
around the head. My hand pumps his shaft - his sensitive urethra firm under
my palm. My wet lips purse together and push down, popping the head in. Jay
gasps as I rock my head to bump and grind his. My busy tongue explores the
groove on the front of his glans, then slides down the side of the shaft.
My mouth crams with gently throbbing sideways cock; it threatens to gag me.
His penis is thick but softer than mine, and I start a bobbing rhythm,
alternately squeezing and releasing with my jaw. Jay moans.
Neglecting my own dick (and its severe erection), I bob faster, closing my
eyes. The pumping hand, and the hot mouth of Jay's returned lover, atones
for our separation. He learned to masturbate thinking of me, and now the
real thing draws the seed up from his balls. Jay bucks, just a little, and
moans again, just a little. My hand feels a ripple go up the tube in his
shaft. His little hole splashes hot semen into the back of my mouth. I
swirl it around his glans, as he squirts again and again, lubricating to
pump harder thru the last moments of his orgasm. I swallow spontaneously.
When he recovers, we try to do me. It doesn't work - I'm curiously spent.
After we shower and hang around for a while I leave, and I never see him
again.