Okay people, this story speaks to me so much, and I am sure it is a similar story most of you would profess to….if you had any urgent need to???
The situations may be slightly different, but stay with us until the end, You will see what I mean!
Thank you author, I love you Man~! Well in a general appreciation kinda way….
Story: Childhood friend
Have I ever run into a childhood friend that I was intimate with, you ask.fantastic timing. My sister invited "Davy" to my mother's birthday party a few months ago and the encounter has been on my mind ever since.
Our families were close friends and we were together constantly from infancy. Davy (not his real name) is a year younger than me, but he was the sexually aggressive one when we were kids, coming up with all sorts of ideas that (in the early years) merely involved getting naked.
Although the first things are fuzzy in my memory, several incidents stand out. Davy had bunk beds in his room. One time when I spent the night, he was in the upper bunk. He rolled his mattress back, pulled his underwear down, and lay on his front with his little dick dangling down through the springs. He told me I could wiggle it if I wanted to, and when I touched it, told me to tickle it. Next he insisted that we trade places so he could return the favor.
Another time we were watching TV when nobody else was home. Suddenly he slid his pants down so that his dick was exposed as he sat on the couch. After a minute he told me to stand up, and
unfastened my pants and forcibly pulled them down while I was holding onto them, saying "That's more comfortable."
He never wanted me to piss alone, preferring that the two of us go outside and piss together in some hidden location. Sometimes we pissed into empty Coke bottles in the garage.
Little things, you see, between good friends who had not yet reached puberty.
There was an old farm pond with raised embankments near his house. Judging from Davy's next idea, I think he may have been an exhibitionist. As you walked around the rim of the pond, you passed gaps in the trees where you could see a busy highway. Several times we dropped our pants all the way around our ankles and held our shirts up to our armpits. Then we shuffled around the top of the pond's embankment as best we could, flashing the highway traffic.
In the trees that surrounded the pond he built an outdoor toilet from an old toilet seat and scrap lumber. He often had me sit on the seat while he examined and tickled my dick and balls, trading places with me after a few minutes and giving me detailed instructions on how to tickle him. One time he wanted to know if I needed to dump a load, and then got down on his knees to look under the seat and watch the turds coming out of my butt.
Perhaps we got erections as little boys; I don't know. My first memory of boners was at maybe eleven or twelve when he was tickling me while I laid naked on my bed. He said "It's standing up!" Sure enough, my dick was stiff and perfectly vertical above my groin.
This marked a change in our relationship because my dick started to mature before his. His little dick got stiffies of its own, but his attention was completely focused on my larger dick. He constantly wanted to play with it and make me feel good. My dick became the focus of our entire friendship.
During this phase he wanted me to tell him every place I had pissed and how many times my dick had been hard. Now that I was big but he was still little, he took it as a great favor whenever I touched his dick. He would say "Can you tickle me today if you don't mind?" Meanwhile he was fully engaged in playing with my erect cock and cuddling my balls while ignoring his own little stiffie.
Then puberty hit and I discovered masturbation. It's surprising that I didn't shoot my first wad while playing with Davy, but it happened in complete privacy. I couldn't wait to show Davy.
I picked a hell of a place to show him what I'd learned, the restroom of a video arcade with other guys going in and out all the time. He stood at the sink and watched me jack off at a urinal. The process was interrupted several times, but eventually I climaxed and accidentally sprayed my immature little cumshots onto the wall above the urinal. Davy was astounded. The best way I can describe it is that he was deeply proud of me.
The relationship shifted again. Now all Davy wanted to do was jack me off. I think he was embarrassed that he hadn't reached what somebody has called "the magic moment." He was happy to let me to tickle him and and hold onto his dick while he stroked me, but he knew he couldn't shoot and didn't try.
Then things got really odd. Since Davy and I couldn't see each other every day, sometimes I had to jack off alone. Davy was somehow sad or hurt if he discovered that I had shot my wad without his help. He sent me notes in the mail that said stuff like "Don't do anything until I can help you."
Finally, more than a year later, Davy hit his own magic moment. He showed me proudly how he could jack off. He allowed me to stroke him from time to time, but clearly preferred doing his own job.
Davy's puberty, strangely, was the peak of our relationship and the beginning of its decline. After he began to masturbate, he lost interest in me. We occasionally jacked off together whenever we ran into each other, but it became increasingly infrequent and gradually we went our separate ways.
So my sister invited Davy to the big birthday bash. Awkward is indeed a good word. I shook his hand and smiled and then hauled my butt out of the room. Davy is married and has four children. He, who initiated almost all the contact between us as boys, appears to be a completely satisfied heterosexual husband. And I, because I chose a career that would disappear into smoke and ashes if I came out, am firmly in the closet.