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Subject: Title story: "Peter Was 19 With A Lot of Class" Author: Anonymous 75940766
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Date: Wed, 24 May 2006 02:48:28 +0000
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Peter Was 19 With A Lot of Class
I met a guy through a personal column, and he came over to my place one night to
get acquainted. We were sitting there that night, having a drink, with the
lights low, and we walked to my bedroom window. There was a guy across the lane,
jacking off. Boy, was Peter surprised.
Up to that time, besides my preoccupation with solo-sex, my sexual experiences
had all been with guys who went on to date girls and marry. Peter identified
himself right from the beginning as being gay, and made it clear that he had
never been interested in girls and never would be. He had advertised for a "male
friend", and I had answered.
Peter was exactly my height, 6'2", of European extraction, and spoke with a
slight accent. He had a lot of class, and I found him very attractive, although
just a bit feminine in his speech and mannerisms. He was nineteen, with dark
hair and striking features, and I must say I was pleased with his broad
shoulders, extremely small waist and moderately large basket. He was wearing
grey flannel slacks and a T-shirt, and I was wearing a T-shirt and white jeans.
To our mutual surprise, he had gone to the same high school as I did, although
neither of us recalled seeing the other there. He was two years behind me and
had gone to that school when his family moved to this country, while I had moved
to that town when I entered the eleventh grade, so neither of us had spent our
whole school life there.
We were getting to know each other as we moved to my bedroom window, but we
hadn't gotten onto the subject of sex. He was startled when he saw the guy
across the lane, and he looked at me. I told him about the guy seeing me jacking
off, and how I'd see this guy taking care of himself. We put our drinks down and
I handed him the binoculars, so he could watch the performance. I was turned on
from seeing the guy across the lane, and also being so close to Peter.
When the guy stiffened, I knew he was shooting. He turned his light out, and
then Peter turned away from the scene across the lane. Putting the binoculars
down, Peter turned to me and put his arms around my shoulders as he kissed me
and moved his groin against mine. It was one firm basket rubbing against
another firm basket. He reached down and cupped and squeezed my basket through
my jeans. Then he reached down into my jeans and did the same thing through my
Jockey shorts.
Withdrawing his hand, he unsnapped my jeans, pulled down my zipper, and took
down my jeans. I was very excited and tried to reciprocate, but he pulled away
saying, "Not yet." He slid his hand into my Jockey shorts, rearranging
everything so that my shaft was now vertical, the head rubbing between the
shorts and his wrist. He went down and gently rolled my balls in his fingers. We
managed to move together, sideways to my bed, without his ever losing his gentle
grip on my now throbbing hard-on.
"Now, you can undress me," he whispered, as we snuggled and rubbed our stubble
together. I peeled the T-shirt out of his pants and up his chest. As he
stretched his arms over his head I could see his beautifully tapered chest with
the tiny erect nipples. I pulled his T-shirt off and we hugged some more while I
gently nipped his nipples and moved my tongue in the finely developed channels
of his gut muscles. I flipped open his belt, and stripped his pants and shorts
down, taking care to pull them off his feet. I sat up and carefully folded his
pants, putting them on the dresser, turning back to see his long, thick shaft
lying on his belly. But when I went to caress it, he pushed me on my back,
saying again, "Not now."
He stripped my shorts off me and quickly moved his head down and onto my shaft.
The initial roughness startled me, but he gently withdrew and then slowly and
with tantalizing changes in focus, made love to my hard shaft, tonguing the
underside of it especially well.
"Have you got anything?" he asked. In my innocence, I replied, "Like what?" He
laughed and explained, "A lubricant. I'm very big and don't want to hurt you." I
got my tube of K-Y and squeezed some of the slick, cool jelly on my fingers.
I was lying on my back as Peter climbed on top of me, his hands over my
shoulders and his knees between my open thighs, propped up so that his very hard
shaft was right above my navel. In the dim light, I felt the huge head of his
cock. It was considerably greater in circumference than his shaft, and was half
out of its foreskin. As I smoothed the K-Y on, I slipped his foreskin back down
and was thrilled to feel the head swell even more from the constriction of the
foreskin behind it.
I reached down and put the K-Y in my butt as Peter moved his knees down, asking
me to put my knees up so my legs were over my head. He lay down then, his chest
on the underside of my legs. "Take a deep breath and push down as if you're
straining on the toilet," he whispered, as I felt his head press ...
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