Sunday, December 31, 2017

Locker Room Lore


 It's a bitter winter day where I am, and it's just a couple days before the New Year. I've been reminiscing, thinking about warm things. One of my favorite memories is my middle school locker room. The building used to be a high school. The big kids wore it out and the school board kindly passed it down to us. We were little boys, 11, 12 and 13.

 We knew the building was decaying around us, but somehow that wasn't important. Take the locker room. It had neutral grey colored walls, a high ceiling with old-fashioned windows. These were the sort of windows with chicken-wire cast into the hazy panes, making the place look like a prison. The pipes were exposed and leaky, haloed with calcified debris leaching down the walls. Lockers wouldn't shut or wouldn't open. Things fell apart around us.  The doors didn't latch and the concrete floor was cracked and tilted. Most of the lighting was working but there were many dark corners and musty hallways.

 But what I loved about that old locker room was its warmth, both physical and emotional. You would come jogging in from the icy field or escape the drafty gym on a cold day, finding the enveloping lure of moist heat wafting from the locker room, which would reach out through the doors and embrace you. A couple of sturdy gas heaters with murmuring fans hung from the ceiling, toiling away with steady glowing heat. Then add the hot showers and a sort of steamy damp-concrete aroma. Half the showers had no heads and were plugged off, reducing us boys to cluster in small groups around the few that sprayed gentle welcome jets, thawing-out our toes and limbs. It was as warm and cozy as being inside Mama's womb again!

 But there was a much kinder service that this utilitarian room could dole out. Through it's stoic skeleton, the sultry steaming pipes and tile blocks brought forth our innate camaraderie, which unified and asserted us kids into fellows in kind. In the locker room we simply "let it all hang out." People didn't try to hide their bodies. We talked, joked and laughed in happy young nudity, unaware that anybody might ever complain about it. We stared at the guys with prematurely large dicks, and they pointed and laughed at our little ones. I learned a new vocabulary in my first week in the locker room: Dick, prick, cock. Cunt, pussy. Boner, stiffie, hard-on. Shit, crap, turd. Our sudden maturity could be summed up like this: "From wee-wee to piss in three days."

 Nobody had to tell us that these were not words we spoke in front of our grandmothers. We simply knew there was a difference between the locker room and the outside world.

 My first hint of a sexual contact happened in the locker room. A boy who was changing next to me leaned close, stuck his mouth near my ear and whispered, "God, I need to jack off." That's the sort of bond the locker room fostered, combining bluntness with secrecy. I said "So do I" in answer to his statement. But my reply was a bare-faced lie. I had not the slightest clue as to what he was talking about. Why he picked me to confide in, I'll never know. But after a little private conversation and a search for a "safe" restroom, he assisted me well over the hump.

 I don't remember his name but I'll never forget his touch as he examined my little erection. The second he laid fingers on me I became instantly super-erect. After just a few seconds of coaching I arrived at my first slightly scary ejaculation while he steady pumped away on his own dick.

 The building was a wreck but it was a warm place in more than one way, it nurtured dumb little dweebs like me into horny adolescence.

NED

Saturday, December 30, 2017

Keeping with Kevin's Needs

 Another kid named Kevin used me because he knew that I didn't mind.

 I didn't realize I was being used until many years after the fact and no I am not upset or bitter. Kevin was a skater kid with an athletic build and blonde hair and blue eyes. It was my obsession back then as a 13 year old kid. I also liked the way he dressed, Kevin wore loose fitting jeans that showed the top of his underwear, he preferred A shirts and T shirts sometimes plain and sometimes with a logo. He wore scuffed DC's, Vans or Osiris skate shoes on his feet. He was a year younger than me at only 12 but I looked up to him. I couldn't do any of the tricks he could do on that skateboard.

 I considered myself his friend but the people that he really hung out with were all skaters like he was. I tried to dress the part but I was slightly obese and very uncoordinated. A rolling piece of wood was like a death wish for me.

 The first time anything happened between Kevin and I, it was because he decided to relieve himself at the top of the slide after the park he was skating in had been left pretty much empty after his other friends went home. I think he realized that I was a little too interested in looking and correctly guessed that I wouldn't mind getting a closer look.

 If Kevin called me or wanted me to come to his house it was always under the pretense of playing video games or some other non sexual activity. After coming to his house, he'd suddenly be "bored" with whatever we were doing and would expose himself to me, which was the signal for me to stop what I was doing and use my mouth or hand on Kevin's awaiting genitalia. 

However, if I even unbuttoned my pants it seemed more of an annoyance to him. Sure, he'd always promise to return the favor but always had a convenient excuse as to why he couldn't. If he was hanging out with his friends and I came around his body language told me loud and clear that I was not wanted. Still though, he'd call me when he wanted me to touch him or suck him.

 He had a long, thin naturally intact penis, that was purplish underneath the foreskin, sometimes he'd skate all day and it would smell like sweat with a light odor of piss. He'd only call when his mom was out of the apartment and we'd have the entire living room where he could flip coin to determine if I'd use my mouth or my hand.

 I was being used but he didn't have me at his house everyday, sometimes it'd be a week or two between his calls. I still thought he was cute and we went on like that for 6 years and the day he got a serious girlfriend his Senior year of High School was the day that the calls stopped.

Anonymous Sk8er

Friday, December 29, 2017

Josh- The Cowboy Rides Away - Final Part

Read previous issue here

I was at late night shopping one night hanging out with a few friends when I saw a gay boy getting picked on, I decided to stand up for him. Security saw me as a part of them and they kicked us all out around the side and watched as they beat me up. 8 of them against me... I broke my ankle. If it wasn't for Jeremy and all his mates at the pub I don't know what would have happened (Jeremy's 3 years older then me and 18 is the legal drinking age here)

It was at this point where I realized how cruel this world was, especially towards me. All I had ever done was tried to help people and I was always kicked down no matter what I did... I grew such a hate for my counselor that I wouldn't piss on her if she was on fire and she KNEW it. She was terrified of me... I began changing, I grew cold and hateful. Whenever someone asked for help I told them fuck off. When someone fucked with me or pushed me, I punched back. I'm a state champion at MMA and promised myself I wouldn't use it because of the damage I could cause. But I just didn't care anymore. I made friends with a group of people that lived in a 8 bedroom house. They use to host parties almost every week and we would be seen as security. If anyone fucked with us, we would pull out baseball bats, swords, hunting knives. The works... other gangs use to see us as a gang and we were the most feared people in the area. 

It's been 3 years since... I work delivering pizza, I'm still single. I have no education, I still smoke cigarettes. I have no compassion or care for humanity, I sleep in until 3pm and go to work, then come home, sleep and repeat. That's my life... When gay's say they hate Christians, they don't even KNOW!!! What hate is... When people say they hate people, they don't even come close to the feeling of hate I have. Apart of me died with Josh, and it's not coming back. I don't ever want to be hurt the way I was ever again and the best way to do that is to only trust yourself. Tell nobody anything about yourself and punch back when someone gives you in the smallest bit of shit.

I talked to Josh earlier this year, his girlfriend was fucking with his head and I drove out to see him. He got into smoking because of me (whoops) The night I talked to him he cried over her and as he had said, he hadn't cried in years...... the last time he did was the last day we saw each other 3 years ago. He was cold until we were friends again. Our relationship was gone... It's something that can't be recovered... But we were such good friends that he would sneak out every night and we would just talk about life while looking at the stars. I remember him in my room with my mate Jamie. He stole my seat so I said FINE THEN!!!! I sat on his lap, we didn't even find it awkward or weird. I sat there so long that he couldn't stand because he had no feeling in them. Josh finally saw life outside of school and how evil his parents were and religion. He was free... But then he got a new girlfriend... a girl named Tahlia.... Tahlia heard that we were still friends and she forbid him from seeing me. He said ok but still talked to me.... but she found out again, and by then he loved her and said fine..... I made him choose between bros or hoes. Even his best friends agreed, he should have chosen me... but he didn't. I told him if he chooses her this is the second time he's abandoned me and I won't stand it a 3rd. He hugged me tight and said he was sorry but this is his chance to feel loved again...

Tahlia is manipulating him, all his friends, his ex's see it. All his friends have left him because he's changed. And even Chloe is on my side, she now realizes what she did so many years ago as a child. I forgive her....... But I won't forget it... Josh messaged me just a few days ago saying that he's stuck up for me and that I've been spreading rumors and problems for Josh. I don't even know where these lies are coming from, but when I find them. They better run... I put the message out there that I know the rumors that are apparently coming from me, and when I find them... I will destroy their lives. Suddenly the rumors stopped, so it's one of the 800 friends in my friend's list on facebook.

But yeah.......

The End

CG

Thursday, December 28, 2017

Josh - The Jade Rock (Part V)

Continued from Part IV

After camp, I was taken home eventually and waited for Josh to come online, but he never did... his house number was blocked from my phone as well.

 Two weeks later when school started Josh came up to me, I was expecting a hug but instead he said, I can't talk to you. He handed me the wrist band I gave him in exchange for the one he gave me (Hasn't left my wrist since 2007, it's the jade rock on my wrist seen in every one of my photos) I asked him to tell me what was happening and he said he couldn't, Chloe reports back to his mother... Chloe had ratted us out. Her mother had found out and tricked Chloe into believing it's wrong and we will go to hell.

 The separation caused mass panic attacks and my body refused to keep down food. Even if I wanted too... the sight of Josh, the mention of his name would cause me to throw up. I told my school counselor fearing for my health and she told me everything shall go the way it's planned and I shouldn't worry. I thought maybe she would talk to Josh's mother... but instead, we noticed that anytime Josh was near me a teacher would pull him away and tell him he's not allowed near me. My art teacher suddenly hated me and my English teacher after class told me she wanted to see me in her office. I followed her back to her office and she said, go sit down over there. She then told me to not leave the room, she then left the room and locked the door.

 I got the feeling because I was two years older than Josh, that the police would arrest me for having an improper relationship with him... and I was now locked in there so I couldn't escape. But then the door opened up and Josh was pushed into the room, the teacher then said, I can be fired for this, but I don't believe this separation is right. Regardless of what God thinks or not.

 Josh then dove over the table and jumped into my arms. But I was too weak to hug him back. I just simply mouthed, thank you. To my teacher. The bell rang and we had to leave, but instead I fainted in the room. I woke up in the first aid room to screams, I woke up to seen Josh gripping the wall as a male teacher was pulling him away. His horrified cries were something I wish I could forget... but I can't... I then passed-out again to be woken by my mother putting me in her car. I was expelled from school for being a bad religious role model to the younger students.


We tried to sue them, but it didn't work... I was admitted to hospital with Broken Heart Syndrome. A week after I was released, Josh wouldn't talk to me. He HATED me, with every bone in his body he hated me. He spread around lies that I had forced him to be my boyfriend. I had tricked him and manipulated him... With no education I moved into TAFE where the teacher was a homophobe and refused to teach me and another student, but we couldn't prove it. I then went to work at Subway... the manager would abuse me, scream at me, hit me across the head ALWAYS out of camera view. I eventually quit when she threw a knife at me. (Blunt knife but still).

 I then started talking to my childhood friend Jeremy who was dating a girl I introduced him to from my school (They are now married) He’s the sort of guy that doesn't understand how to be depressed. He offered me a cigarette to see if it helped my stressed out mood. And self destruction seemed like a good idea... I still smoke today. I went to find other jobs but I always had some person spreading around that I was a pedophile and molested a young boy. I had no idea who it was......

CG

Coming next, Final Chapter

Josh - The Secret Get's Out (Part IV)

Continued from Part III 

We ended up telling Chloe our secret and she just looked at us and said, "I KNEW IT." lol she use to help us hide it from others.

 A few weeks past and I was laying bed naked with Josh when my father walked in. He just stared at us, Josh woke up in shock and shook me to wake me up. I looked at him as he said, "Your father.... is right there." I looked toward the door and said, "Urg, too early to deal with this, talk later." Then pulled the sheets over my head and went back to sleep. We never talked about it. My parents weren't concerned, however my father kept telling me that it's not love that I'm feeling, just a crush and lust. I told I'd prove him wrong one day.

 The next time he slept over Chloe walked in and said what are you guys doing still in bed. I looked at her and said in the GAYEST voice you could ever have (I don't have any stereotypical gay habits, neither does Josh) and I said, "Oh darling, it's far to early, I'm going back to sleep." Josh then slapped me across the face and said, "Speak like that again and I'll pull your balls off." lol

 I heard that Josh was going to New Zealand to see family for 5 weeks over Christmas and I decided I would get him a present. I had no money though... so instead I wrote him a book with 365 pages in it. It had love letters, quotes, poems, memories, photos and secret messages and riddles for him to solve. I told him, I couldn't give him me for Christmas, so I hoped that would do instead. One page for each day of the year.... but instead he read the entire book each night while in New Zealand, lol

 When he got back it was time for Church Camp. We were put in a cabin with my mate Pedro and another church guy Dane. Pedro already knew about us and Dane wasn't worried... We went to the beach where Josh begged me to come into the surf. I HATED The beach and pleaded with him to not drag me in because I don't even have a sun shirt. But he did anyway... I came out 30 minutes later with 3rd degree burns from the sun, it was bleeding and peeling the second I was out of the water. And because it was to painful to have a shirt on all the time, I went without a shirt for the next 3 days of camp. And sadly, one of the girls on this camp happened to... like me O_O (I will refer to her as Girl X).

 Girl X sat at the table during lunch and said, "Wow Connor, you have such beautiful eyes." Just playing along I leaned in and told her how they change colour too (that's true actually) Suddenly Pedro across the table screamed OW!!! He then stared at Josh and said, "Why did you kick me?" Josh looked around realising he kicked Pedro instead of me. lol

 We went back to the cabin where Josh was having a shower, I picked the lock and walked in where he was under the water. He just stared at me saying, "Do you mind?" I replied with, Not at all, mind if I get some water too. I stripped down and joined him. That's when Girl X walked into the cabin. I had to pick Josh up so she didn't notice the two sets of feet in the shower. She wouldn't leave so we ended up washing ourselves while I was carrying him....WORST SHOWER EVER!!!

 During the night I had to sleep on the bottom bunk with Josh so the cool night breeze hit my sunburnt back. By the time it came to pack up and leave camp. I was packing up everything, including all of Josh's stuff. He was asleep in one of the bag hostlers. I almost screamed at him for being so lazy until Dane pulled me aside and said, he hasn't slept for 3 nights. I asked why, only to find out that the reason I had slept was because he was putting burn cream on my back every 10 minutes. I almost cried from that...

 We got back from camp where I was dropped off at Josh's place. Girl X wouldn't let us out of her sight and kept saying to me to keep my hands to myself. Josh and I knew she had found out. An entire year we kept it a secret and it somehow got out...

CG

to be continued...

Wednesday, December 27, 2017

Good News is on the Way - Editorial by Regi

This may sound a little philosophical at first, but bear with me and grasp the good news.

Something all rational people have instinctively known was stated like this in a specialized periodical recently:

"Ask any junkie and they'll tell you what they're chasing is the feeling they got the first time they got high. But that first-time rush can never be recaptured, whether you're talking about heroin or cigarettes or hit records."

The good news for those of us who follow this blog is that the addictive activity that we practice (and frequently write about) DOES reward you by recapturing that first-time rush. Oh, maybe not the exact astounding moment of initial discovery that overwhelmed you the first time you took your situation in hand and blasted out an unexpected load. But something mighty similar that recurs reliably every time we skin the banana.


Maybe it's because we don't need an outside substance to get that high. The procedure we practice was built-in when our  male bodies were assembled, and no matter how many times we grab the brass ring, the joy of a self-induced orgasm - solo or shared - never loses its delight. Each time we practice the fine art of peter-jiggling we are rewarded with nature's finest rush.

Happy climaxing in 2018 and please bury Eric with your boyhood stories.

Josh - Breakfast with my Boyfriend (Part III)

A continued story, see part II

 The next morning I talked to him about it, because we were so open to our emotions it wasn't awkward. I asked him if it felt peaceful to him, and he said yeah. I then said, but never again. He nodded in agreement. The next weekend he slept over at my house. I went to turn off the light and I looked at him in his bed, he then moved over to one side and pulled the sheets back with this big smile. I turned off the lights and jumped into bed. He immediately gripped me in this tight hug and I fell asleep almost immediately. We got use to the closeness and use to hug everytime we saw each other. We began saying I love you mate and stuff like that. And because people thought we were brothers, it just went by unnoticed. We use to argue over the fact that what we were doing was gay, and it made us depressed that we may be gay. And the way we cheered ourselves up was to hold hands and then that caused us to worry that we were gay and the cycle continued.


 When we lay in bed, we use to run our hands over each others back. It was like a tease everytime my hand touched the skin on the back of his neck. I tried one night running my hand up the back of his shirt and then slowly around the brim of his boxers. Each time I got closer to his boxers he wouldn't react. So I went a bit further each time lowly placing my hand inside his boxers, just around the brim of them at least. I then placed my hand inside the brim and very very slowly went further down. He didn't react at all. I ran my fingers down his baby smooth bum. So far that I would run my fingers between his legs almost touching his testicles. I then thought, I don't think he's worried... I then moved my hand around the side of his boxers to cup his testicles and then freaked out and pulled my hand back out. He then grabbed my hand and put it back down there. I massaged his balls while slowly moving his penis with my wrist. It wasn't.... for pleasure, it just was....... idk..... I really don't know. I felt the need to explore his body... But even after that, we didn't think it was gay, I don't know how, lol

 When Halloween came around, he invited me to his house along with Tully, the hypo kid. Because Tully was over, we couldn't sleep in the same bed. So I lay on the floor restlessly... I felt something grab my hand and I looked up to see Josh in his bed. He had reached out with his hand just so we were close in some sense. He smiled at me and I smiled back, and that's when it hit me. I let go off his hand and ran out into the living room area. He chased after me and started saying, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to, I'm not gay I promise. I then looked at him and said I can't do this anymore. I love you, I want to hold you, I want to be yours. I want you to be my boyfriend. He stepped back in shock, his eyes widened. I began crying, I knew I had just destroyed everything we had. Unable to see with tears in my eyes I felt him grab my waist and move in closer. I looked at him and he kissed me. He then said, "And now you know why I wanted to kill myself. Because I feared I was gay... but just like you said, you'd fix it." I then said, "At least if we go to hell for being gay, we'll both be there." He smiled and kissed me again, we fell into the couch and well, just picture one of those romantic movie moments, lol


 The next day I woke up as Tully left the room and he said to me, "Come on, I want to share my breakfast with my 'boyfriend'." I JUMPED out of bed when he said that...... and we BOTH raced to the table.

CG

Josh - Pretending to be Asleep (Part II)

Continued story of Josh by CG (See part I)


 The next day he found me walking around and asked to speak to me in private, he told me that he had heard about me threatening those boys and he told me, nobodies ever cared about him before and he wanted to tell me something, he told me that he feels as though he's known me for years, that he trusts me more then anyone else in the world. And he told me, he wanted to kill himself. I just looked at him and said, that's normal for a 13 year old. But then I remembered a person I had ignored when they told me that... RIP

 I then decided to make a promise in their name, that I would never let anything harm him ever again. I would always be there, whether I hated him or he hated me. I would still protect him. We called it, the promise. We talked everyday, and I mean everyday until the day.... it happened.... but anyway, that's jumping ahead. I told him about my past and that everyone I ever meet feels as though they've known me for years and trust me more then anyone else. They always beg me for my help and somehow I always fail them... I'm like fire I said. I keep you warm at night, I light up the path and light up the dark. I can protect you and I'm magical... but just like fire, you get to close and you get burned. He replied with something I had never had anyone say before, and that is, "I'm fire proof." (I have a tattoo of a triangle on my arm, it's the rune symbol for fire. It's a warning, like a snake has it's markings, this is mine.)

 People at school use to think we were brothers because we were always together, and we were 3 grades apart, lol. I remember sleeping over at his house one weekend, which we did EVERY weekend, so much so that I was counted part of their family. I had my own account on their personal computer and even my own chores around the house, lol.

 I was laying in bed when I had this ball thrown at my face, it startled me and my reaction was the thrown it straight back HARD!!! It hit him really hand in the shoulder and he was PISSED, he picked it up and threw it straight back. It missed and rolled to the other side of the room. We paused and looked at it, looked at each other and then both DOVE for it. We lay there on the ground fighting over this tennis ball. His older sister walked in as I had his arm in a lock and he had me in a head lock, we both stopped and stared up still in this position. His sister then picked up the ball and said, "I've been looking for this." And walked out. We then just sunk to the ground and lay there laughing.

 We were inseparable, so much so that we could finish each other's sentences, look at each other and not have to say a WORD and knew exactly what the other was thinking. It even went as far as to have that gut feeling that something was wrong. I found out he had a rare bladder condition that caused his bladder to continue growing and he was on medication to stop him from dying. I actually cried when I heard and it caused him to run away from home because he didn't want me to care about him anymore and just stay out of my life. I didn't know he had run away. I was at home that day when I got this sharp pain in my head... I told my mum I was going for a walk and just started walking. I didn't know where I was going but every inch of my body was telling me not to turn back. I just kept walking and walking for 12 kilometre's until I reached bushland. There he was, sitting by the lake. I thought he was there with family, but he eventually told me why he was there and I walked him home.

 His best friend Chloe had her 13th birthday coming up and she wanted to invite Josh to sleep over. But she also invited me because she knew he wouldn't go unless I was there, lol.

 That night we were told there was a mattress for us too and a mattress for Chloe. I decided that sleeping with Josh would be weird and gay (Christian school and unbringing) I instead decided to sleep on the couch. But after 5 minutes of my back hurting I moved down to the mattress and said, "Do you mind?" He then moved over so I had some room. I couldn't fall asleep very well, or would constantly wake up every 5 minutes to Chloe on the other mattress at the end of the bed kicking my feet. But I then woke up to this feeling of something pressed against my back. I went to roll over and Josh quickly rolled over to his side of the bed. I paused for a moment in confusion and then said, "Sorry, you can move back now if you want, I was just rolling over." But he pretended to be asleep... I fell asleep until I woke up with the inability to breath. Josh was laying across my chest trapping my arm which was completely numb by this point. I couldn't breath, but I looked at him and just felt... peaceful... A feeling I just... can't explain...


Tuesday, December 26, 2017

Josh - The Day We Met (Part I)

I befriended a young author some years ago. We chatted briefly about a few things, and he submitted this at my request for an account of something special. It was a fascinating story, which sadly had not been shared until now. It will come rapid-fire in short parts over the next few days. Enjoy!!
E~

[ I wrote a book a while ago about us, but yeah, I'll write it out from scratch... =/ ]

 Umm.... I use to go skating ALOT, I was part of the hockey team and use to be able to do tricks and flips while on inline blades. For school sport we went to the skating rink, I was the only grade 10 allowed to go with the grade 7's because I knew the owners of the rink. lol I was there almost everyday of course. 

 While I was there this young boy named Guy saw me skate and thought it was awesome. So he begged me to teach him, I told him to come skating on a Friday night and I would. A few weeks later I saw Guy and his friends walking past me at school. He came up and high fived me, his friend Tully being the hypo kid he was starting telling me all these pointless facts I really didn't care about. And then there was his other friend. He had his head down the entire time... I felt sick around me, I didn't like him at all, he made me feel terrified and I had no idea why. He looked up at me and I felt that I was going to pass out. He quickly looked away and walked off. Guy then looked at me and said, sorry about him. Josh is in a weird mood... His name was Josh..... And the entire day that name stuck with me. I went back to school the next day and he passed me in the hallway, he very quickly turned his head away from me and quickly walked off. I don't know what it was about him, but I felt as though I HAD to get him to speak.

  After school one day I was talking with my mates when I saw Josh walk past, I called out his name and told him to come over and talk with us. He walked toward me and then straight past me, I heard him sniffly as he did. My friend Pedro looked at me and said, "Was he just crying." I chased after him and kept telling him to stop and talk to me. He ignored me and kept walking. Eventually I grabbed him a slammed him against the fence and said WHAT IS WRONG!!! He was crying silently, tears rolling down his face. He looked down to avoid eye contact and I noticed his scalp was red raw and bleeding. He muttered, "I was dragged." I was to stunned to have a tight grip on him and he ran off. I chased after until he got into his mother's car. She was on the phone while he cried in the back, I heard her scream at him to shut up and grow up. I formed a fist so hard my nails pierced my skin. I ran back into the school and found some grade 9's laughing about how the dragged him across the oval by his hair. I threw one of them against the wall and told him if he ever laid his hands on Josh again I would make sure I dragged them across the oval by their balls. They laughed at me thinking I was a joke. I don't know how I looked then, but I felt anger just build inside of me and it obviously showed. His eyes suddenly went from being tough to this scared child. I told him to fuck off and not to come within 2 yards of him and he just stood there in fear. 


 That afternoon I sat at home worried to death about Josh... I was getting dizzy with worry. I then picked up my phone with this feeling it would ring. I still can't explain it, but that was just one of our gifts I guess. A few second later an unknown number called, I don't know how he knew my number, or even how I knew it was him. 

 But I answered the phone with, "Hey Josh." He was as puzzled as I was that I knew, lol. He had called Guy who got a number off his older sister to call someone in my grade to yeah. You get the point. But he got it. He was still crying when he called me, and I told him I'd make him happy again. We talked for 7 hours, even while eating food and watching TV. Funniest part was that he was happy after the first 5 minutes. lol 

to be continued - 

CG

Sunday, December 24, 2017

The Christmas Tree Secret

At Christmas my dad usually got a couple weeks of vacation and we came to the States for the holidays. However, there were a few years when we stayed in Mexico. One time our maids (very nice Mexican ladies) thought it was sad that we couldn't go home to be with our family. They helped my mother decorate the house, adding their own touches in the Mexican tradition.

A couple of days before Christmas the maids asked my mother to call the whole family together after supper. They wanted to wish us a Feliz Navidad, and they had a surprise for us, a very beautiful ceramic set of snowmen and Christmas trees which they and the gardener had made with their own hands. Each of us received three or four items, which made the full set when all displayed together.

One of my figures was the biggest one, a snow-white ceramic tree with shining colored ornaments glued to its branches. I remember it as being about 12" tall. The white tree shone with a lustrous sparkling glaze.

I was 14 and sometimes a little bit of an asshole. The tree had been given to me, and by damn I was going to keep it in my room. I put it on my dresser where I could keep everybody else away from it. My mother was constantly on my case about bringing the white Christmas tree back to the living room so it could take its place in the overall snowman scene. But I didn't feel like cooperating.

Just a night or two after Christmas I was laying in bed, getting my stiff boner ready for its daily exercise when my eyes caught sight of the tree. All the items in the set were hollow, with holes in the bottom. Suddenly I knew exactly how to assert ownership of "my" tree. I carefully brought the ceramic tree to my bed and proceeded to pump myself in a kneeling position. At the moment of truth I inserted my loaded prick into the hole, jiggled myself the rest of the way to ejaculation, and delivered a massive volley of loads deep into the hollow tree.

When my orgasm was over I lay the tree on its side so its liquid contents would not run out and make a mess.

Several days later the tree disappeared. The maids were packing up all the Christmas decorations and that included my tree -- AND its three- or four-day-old load of my jizz.

A year went by before I saw the white tree again. My mother had supervised the snowman scene, including the placement of my tree. The entire set stood proudly on a table in the living room, just where she wanted it, the focal point of the wholescene.

I managed to sneak "my" tree away and carry it to my room where I could shine a flashlight into the hole. I had to grin. The tree contained a strange yellowish, dried glue-like substance decorated with a fringe of delicate froth around the edges. Apparently my cum had fermented, producing the odd bubbly reaction!

I was highly amused by seeing my year-old cum. I would never be able to show the evidence to anybody, but that tree was most definitely "mine" even while it stood right out in public among the rest of the trees and snowmen.

Saturday, December 23, 2017

Gym Class Jizzers

My junior high school had a big clump of evergreen bushes growing at one corner of the building near the door to the gym. I went behind the bushes and jacked off during Gym class. It was my secret place to get my nuts off.

Maybe it was so urgent because seeing all the guys changing into their Gym-clothes, or getting my stiffie calmed down to prevent any embarrassing pop-ups during showers with all those guys naked.

One day another boy followed me. He wanted to know why I was going behind the bushes. I told him not to look because I had to piss. He said he had to piss too. But I just stood there without doing anything because he would see that I was hard if I got it out. He must've noticed I was not pissin', and said he would not look if I would go first. I don't know how it happened but in a minute we were both jacking off. Every day at gym we jacked off if we could. We told each other here it comes. Sometimes our cum clodded-up on the dirt or we might shoot on the wall making random strings of white stuff slowly dripping down.


You have to wonder why he needed to jack during gym class too?

Anonymous

Who's Bigger

This is part of a longer story from my youth but this particular scene sticks out.
Five boys at a 13th birthday sleepover. About bedtime and after we were done playing games and stuff, a black kid and white kid start comparing penises. The white kid says he's bigger and the black kid says he's bigger. The black kid said "well your 13, I'm only 12 and I'm bigger". The white kid corrects him, "I'm still 12 and I'm bigger than you and black people are supposed to have the biggest dicks".

They go back and forth and eventually start asking us. I took it the most seriously, determined to be fair and accurate. The white kid's penis was longer but the black kids was much wider. I pointed this out and rather than call it a draw, the argument shifted towards what mattered more length or width. It was the night where I played truth or dare for the first time and discovered how fun it was.


Anonymous Judge

Monday, December 18, 2017

Peeing on the Playground

 During the sixth grade I was a playground monitor after lunch for the first and second graders. Some of us "big" boys kept an eye on the younger boys’ play time. For this we earned volunteer hours that showed up on our report cards.

 One of the structures on the boys’ playground was a sturdy ladder about 48" wide and not more than 5' high. It was a simple thing. Two 4" x 4" posts were set in concrete. Rungs were made of 2" pipes driven through holes drilled in the uprights. Several little guys could climb, twist, or hang by their knees at the same time.

 An interesting thing about the ladder was that the pipe rungs were not capped. The ends of the pipes stopped at the outside edges of the uprights. Some of the boys made up games such as poking sticks into the pipes or using them as speaking tubes.

 One of the second-graders, "Ronnie," was a genuine rascal. If there was trouble, he was sure to be involved. He argued with us monitors as well as with the teachers. They were constantly calling him by his entire name.

 I was keeping an eye on the slides and swings one day when a boy ran up to me and said that Ronnie did something bad. That was no surprise; it was Ronnie’s nature to do something bad.

 We hurried over to the climbing ladder. Ronnie was standing at one side of the structure. He looked kind of mad as he watched me approach, like he hadn't expected my interference. He was also covering his zipper with both hands. At the other end of the ladder there was a damp spot on the gravel playing surface and a crying boy whose clothes appeared to be wet. The wetnss was odd because no food or drink was allowed on the playgrounds. As I got closer, the wet boy yelled between sobs, "Ronnie pee’d on me!"

 Believe me, that was a new development in my tenure as monitor! I could just imagine Ronnie whipping out his dickie and aiming a stream of piss through the air at another guy. But as I soon learned, that wasn’t quite the way it happened.

  Ronnie had told the other boy to go stand at the opposite side of the ladder and see what would happen. Then the little trouble-maker pulled down his zipper (yes, right in front of the other boys) and poked his weenie into one of the pipes. As soon as he was situated to suit himself, he released his pee. From there his piss surged through the pipe and flooded the innocent kid’s pants.

 That wasn’t the end of it. Now that they had my attention, all the boys were talking at once. Ronnie apparently pee’d out in the open whenever he felt like it, as long as we monitors were busy elsewhere. Sometimes he flopped his wee cock out and pissed while riding the merry-go-round, sometimes from the steps of the slide, almost anywhere. He urinated during nearly every recess and dared the other guys to tell on him.

 I should have marched Ronnie to the office and described his infractions to the staff. But the more I thought about it, the less willing I was to face the embarrassment of explaining the situation to an adult. Best to handle it right there. I called Ronnie over – still hiding his crotch -- and used my sternest sixth-grade voice while all the little guys listened: "If you want to show that nasty thing to somebody, show it to me, Ronald James Briggs! Otherwise, keep your bleeping zipper shut." While I spoke he crammed his little thingie back into his pants, giving me an inadvertent look at his miniature asset.

 There was no genuine authority behind my words and I could tell that the kid was sneering at me.

 I continued to get intermittent reports of Ronnie pissing in front of other boys (he seemed to like an audience) but he apparently had enough sense not to get anybody else wet.

 Although I never told the principal or teachers about Ronnie’s water games, some of the guys my own age got a kick out of hearing the story. I would usually end by saying "At least I got a peek at his little wiener!"

 We laughed so hard that we almost pee’d on each other.

 Regi

Friday, December 15, 2017

Touches in the Dark

When the writer in this story wrote, "Pretty soon we had our hands in each other's underpants", it reminded me what an extreme indescribable thrill it was to be in bed like this with a special friend.

 What was in our underpants we were always told was extremely private property. This is why we did this in the dark and under the covers. It seemed to be more acceptable to grope for it and touch it in the dark than actually let your friend see it in the open with the lights on. I remember so well the unreal excitement pulling open a friends elastic underpants waistband and daringly reaching a hand inside. Then came all the rush of exciting discoveries: What if......He's got hair down there too? And awesome..He's got a boner just like I do!

In my own childhood it only happened three times that a sleepover with a new friend progressed to the point where I realized he was as interested in touching me, as I was in touching him. Touching and examining with your hand, in the dark and under the covers on a new friend's dick for the very first time....... like this was clearly one of the biggest thrills of my young puberty.

 Anonymous "Feel-around" Author

Tuesday, December 12, 2017

Looking for Prime in the Mall


 I'll make this brief because telling about it doesn't speak very highly of me as a teen.

At age 15 I discovered tea-room tricking at a mall and was immediately thrilled that I could find horny guys to share my arousal and jack off with. I was less thrilled by the old farts who swarmed around me when I went cruising.

The truth is that I spent hours of unproductive time trying to lose the trolls and connect with a decent jerking pal, when there might not even have been a single decent pal in the whole mall. By decent, I meant guys up into their early 20's, as long as they had a fresh young look. I squandered time walking constantly from one loo to another, back and forth through the mall and its stores, spending two or three hours hunting a momentary partner who wasn't past his "sell-by" date. To my mind I was accomplishing something by investing two hours in hunting a bud for a two-minute wank.

But as I look back on it now the mall action was frustrating. Even if I did locate a compatible guy who met my criteria, we would soon be interrupted by every old fart in that end of the county. The only defense I can offer is that mall-cruising was the only way I knew to locate a momentary partner.

"The definition of insanity is doing the same thing again and again but expecting different results."

Anonymous Loo-Looker

The Twin Bed Teasers

In this post, the third Anon comment  mentions the house of a special friend where they had some really fun sleep-overs.

 So my very best friend had a room that I remember very clearly. There were two twin beds in it. Strangely - shortly after lights-out, we would both be in the same bed, pretending like hell that we weren't up to anything sexy. We were just in our undies, and it might start with a tickle here, or a pinch there, a finger jab at a guys bum,  then all touchie-feelie barriers were broken down. Pretty soon we had our hands in each other's underpants. Of course guys like us at that age, we were boned up in seconds, and ready to whack away on our wieners.

 One night we couldn't find the Kleenex at the critical moment. He jumped up and grabbed a clean T-shirt out of his dresser and we both exploded pretty quickly  into the shirt. He had used up his last tissues the previous night and forgot to get a new box. Every time after that when I stayed at his house, I asked him if he was good to go with a box of kleenex. He never forgot it again.

Anonymous

Sunday, December 10, 2017

Good shots I remember

Hope this don't gross nobody out. When I was in the most horny time of getting bonars, about 14 and 15. Some time if I made a real good poop on the pot it done something for my junk.



 Doing a good one, it made my balls pull up a little and they had a funny feeling. They was real sensitive. Most of all, it was at the line down the middle of my nuts. While I tickled at that spot. My dick got a massive hard. Then it was just a matter of, the more I did it.... then all the more more hard I'd get.

 I did not actually come in the bath room to jack, only to poop. But some time it got me extra hard and needing to cum some. Always, it was so good, when I cummed that way.

Anonymous

What happened to our favorite locations?

Not only "What happened to my friends?" but I also think we sometimes lose the places that we meet-up "What happened to our favorite locations?"

When I discovered visual sex and later an occasional nervous hook-up with another dude, it was in one of the largest shopping malls ever constructed. The mall had big restrooms in two of its wings. And every large department store had its own restrooms. That mall was a reliable place for a guy to get his nuts off while out-maneuvering the trolls.

 However on a recent trip back to the city, I was astounded to find that the entire mall has been plowed under. The parking lots remain but there's no sign of the mall or its stores. I found that truly hard to believe after spending a big part of my youth ejaculating within those walls.

Anonymous

 Hrmm, Food court rest-rooms seem to have a wide selection of visitors.
E-

Tuesday, December 5, 2017

Getting Wood - From the Dicks in Gym Class

I swear I didn't have a clue about shooting cum until this happened in the first week of grade 7. I had to take a gym class. We were only about three or four days into the semester. I was at home after school climbing in a tree that grew next to the back porch. It was a good tree for climbing, limbs you could stand on. While I was up the tree I was thinking about gym class. In my mind I saw all the different dicks and balls that I noticed in that class. All of them different. I found out they were different because I did something that I knew was wrong, I peeked at them. During showers and changing I snuck little peeks.

Up in that tree I was seeing them as a memory while climbing around. In a little while I noticed that my dick was stiff. I rubbed it against the tree trunk. It felt good, sort of weirdo and freaky. I put my pants onto the trunk and wiggled back and forth. I thought my dick might get back to normal. I was still remembering the dicks in gym class. Certain boys and what their dicks were like. I was mashing my dick onto the tree trunk and wiggling my crotch around.

Something was going to happen but I didn't know. In a minute I felt real freaky. I thought maybe it was altitude sickness from climbing way up in the tree. All that time my dick was real stiff. It felt good to rub it. I wanted to keep rubbing the tree with it but at the same time wanted to stop. Does that make any sense?

I didn't know to expect anything to happen. The freaky feeling got real strong and all at once I got a climax that scared me, not knowing what it was. Thinking stuff like this was not good, and I think I hurt my dick. Then I could tell that I had wet my pants too. I got down from the tree and went to the bathroom. My underwear were slimy with some kind of crazy stuff that was not piss. I got a clean pair and put the others in the hamper.

After that I climbed up the tree and rubbed my stiffie every few days, about twice a week. The feelings made me feel good instead of freaky. My stuff squirted in my underwear. I washed out my underwear and hid them until they got dry. Then put them in the hamper.

For a long time the only way I knew to make a cumshot was climbing high enough that nobody could see me and then rubbing and bumping the tree with the front of my pants. And also thinking about what I peeked at in gym class.

Anonymous

What Happened to my Friends?

A comment was posted recently that made me do some thinking. It concerned the boy who initiated "Lap sitting," saying that perhaps he had moved on from boys to girls. Those words hit me like a hammer. They reminded me of a close-knit group of five guys of which I was a part for a few wonderful years - and what became of us horny boys.

At our tightest I was 14 and so was another boy who happened to be a minister's son. One guy was 15, about six months ahead of us 14-ers. And there were two 13's, one of them the brother of the 15 guy. I had intimate interaction with each of those guys, alone or sometimes in groups of two or three. But the five of us never got horny together as an entire group, because the two brothers never messed around in the presence of each other.

We never ratted on each other, either. Even if we occasionally got mad we didn't involve adults. Here's the way things have gone for us five, several decades later.

1. I’ll start with myself. This site has done a wonderful thing, helping me understand myself as I read everybody else's stories. I'm the only one of the five who didn't migrate to the other end of the ballroom.

2. Our oldest pal, who was 15 at the moment I'm describing, was very low-key. On a camp-out he and I shared bedrolls together. During the night he pulled down my underwear and then jacked himself off, but did not touch my boner nor offer for me to touch his. That might have been because his brother was along and playing with another guy. The older brother was the first one to like girls. The rest of us talked about him, trying to understand his defection. He married during college, earned an MBA, and has three daughters (I think).

 3. The minister's boy lived in our neighborhood but other than the boy himelf, none of us attended his father's church. He liked to watch while two guys played with each other. Observing our stiffies lit his fire real good. Then, after he'd watched us climax, he'd bang his drum as fast as possible until his hand was just a blur. Around a year later his parents sent him to live with his
grandparents in another town. According to gossip, a girl told her mother that she had undressed for him. He showed her his tool and asked her to touch it - but at the last minute no coition occurred. That act on the part of my friend was hard for me to understand. Why mess with a girl when you've got good buddies to jack off with? That guy is a professor in a college today.

4. The boy that I was least involved with, one of the 13-ers and brother of the 15-er, was an avid masturbationist beginning at 12, which was earlier than the rest of us. At camp one summer he became buddies with a guy several years older. For reasons that I can't explain this many years later, I was angry about him jerking with the older guy, and that's why we had limited contact afterwards. He got married after college and asked me to sing for the wedding, which was a strange feeling. I have no idea where he is or what he's doing.

5. My best friend in the whole gang was the second 13-year-old, actually less than a year younger than me. We lived a few blocks apart, across the boundary line between two school districts. He would call me on some pretense right after school. I would tell my mother that he needed my help with his homework and take off on my bike. Sometimes we would meet in the alley behind a shopping center and jack off behind the dumpsters. Other times we would hide in the big garage behind their house and edge each other until we couldn't bear it any longer. By the time I was 16 and he was 15 the two of us were the only ones left of the original jacking group. Then one day while we were fondling each other's boners he started telling me how much he wanted to screw a girl, but he knew it was a sin and would never happen until he got married. I felt so awful, so "alone" when he told me all that stuff. I got sick to my stomach and felt like my world was ending. He went to college, got married, had children, and became an executive in a large company.

Of the five, there’s nobody left but me.


Anonymous Friend

Saturday, December 2, 2017

His dick looked like an ant-eater's nose

I was twelve when some friends of my parents visited us from out of town. They had a son and a daughter and stayed at a motel near our house.

So the boy is a couple years older than me. We hang out in my room, playing games. He tells me there is a swimming pool at the motel, and asked did I want to come over there and swim. My parents say okay but we have to come back for dinner on a while. So I get my bathing suit and jock.

We get to their room and the girl goes in the bathroom to change. She takes her time and meanwhile her brother is griping at her through the door, telling her to hurry up. Finally she comes out, and he says to me to come on and let's change together because we are wasting time.


We go in the bathroom together. He is talking about stuff and meanwhile pulling off his clothes. I don't think I had ever seen anybody else's dick. The more clothing we removed, the stranger I felt. I knew it was going to happen - we were going to both be naked in that little bathroom. He pulls down his white briefs and all of a sudden it's true! I am looking straight at his junk! Dangling and without any shame, he's just talking about stuff, like its so normal to be naked with another guy. I was darting my eyes side to side, but still kept glancing back to look.

No, nothing happened. But it was a major event for me because his dick was completely different from mine. He was uncircumcised although I did not know anything about that. What I saw was a penis that hung over his balls and drooped downward. It did not seem to have the shape that mine did. It ended in a bunch of shriveled skin that tapered off. Mine had kind of a knob at the end but at my shy little glances it seemed he was missing that part. To me his dick looked like an ant-eater's nose hanging from his crotch. I knew better than to stare, but I was blown away by the appearance of his penis.

Ever so often I remember that experience, the absolutely strange appearance of his penis and my thought that it looked like part of an ant-eater grafted onto his stomach.

Anonymous

Thursday, November 30, 2017

OOTS4U - Passes 100,000 Hits

The blog has surpassed a huge milestone of 100,000 visits. I thank our authors and guests for this laudable event. I especially want to mention my appreciation for our team of dedicated authors who return regularly with interesting works for our enjoyment. I will soon add a link list for the author's Bio and their list of works featured here.

I also want to mention that any guest can submit and share their story from youth. So if you have an idea, or complete story please type it into a comment box and I will work up a post for you. If you have any detailed questions about ts review the FAQ page. I feel confident that everyone has something unique from long ago that would be of interest to our readers, so Please tell it.

Kind Thanks,
Eric-


Tuesday, November 28, 2017

"Where you been?"


I was in middle school, actually the Fall of eighth grade, when I discovered what my dick could do if I
stimulated it in a certain way. I was immediately hooked. My body demanded a cumshot every day. I lived from one climax to the next.

In contrast to what some of the other guys have said on here, I never shot my load at school. It was just too risky. The same went for my home situation. Nobody had any privacy. So where could I wank?

I solved that problem by walking through a park on my way home from school. The park included a stinky cinder-block Men's restroom with two toilet stalls (plywood walls; no doors) and a long trough-type urinal mounted on the wall. That foul disgusting bathroom became my masturbation heaven.

The high school was nearby and some of the HS guys also walked through the park. I'm well aware "now" that certain HS boys were looking for jacking buddies, but at my age in the park I was flushed with complete naivete back then..... I just was looking for privacy, not companionship. I didn't even know that two boys might collaborate on a wank. So I would hang around at the picnic tables until everybody else cleared out.

One day I apparently miscounted. Walking into the restroom, I saw an instrument case on the floor at one of the stalls. Some guy was STILL in the stall! I guess he plays in one of the bands, either middle school or high school.

I was in a hurry to do my daily pump job, and decided to go ahead. The other guy could not see me from the stall. I'd wiggle my worm quickly and hurry home.

But something peculiar happened. As I was pumping myself I kept an eye trained on the stalls. Suddenly a head could be seen at the edge of the stall, apparently watching me. Every cell of my brain ordered me to run! But I couldn't move. I was petrified.

Meanwhile, the dude in the other stall changed positions. He stepped forward just enough to reveal his own hand pumping his own peter, just like I'd been doing. I was hypnotized. What would happen next? Will he keep doing it now that he knows I'm here? Will I see him squirt? How did I ever get myself into this?

I was badly scared but also very intrigued. Another boy was doing it! Doing it right there! And I can't stop!

As I peeked at the action, the other boy's dick discharged a sudden stream of cum that shot from his stall across the filthy concrete floor, leaving strings and puddles and globs of ejaculate.

That did it. I was cumming. And Holy Cow....cumming in record time. My shot splattered onto the wall above the pee trough.I dunno if it dribbled down the wall, or crusted there until eternity. Faster than it takes to say "zip up," I was gone, hurrying away from the restroom and the park and asking myself what had just happened.

 I'd seen only two glimpses of the other guy. First a narrow glimpse of his face as he sized me up and second a look at his busy hand arousing his erect dick. He was older than me, a high school dude, and yet he seemed as frightened of seeing me as I'd been of him.

That'll never happen again, I told myself as I walked home.

But it did. Every few days I'd walk into the restroom and see the instrument case.  (I Grinned). I tell myself with a funny kind of goose-bump thrill. "He's here." The next few times we met, the scene was a repeat of the first time. I shot into (or above) the trough. He shot out into the room. Then I hurried away.

But we developed a strange kind of friendship. He would step farther out of his stall, bare crotch fully visible as he jacked. I would turn toward him as I did the same. In the few seconds that it takes for horny boys to climax, we watched intensely, never saying a word, never coming close to one another, but fully intent on letting each other see.

Sometimes I got bold and aimed my cumshot across the floor for his benefit. Sometimes he pulled his pants totally down and his shirt fully up and gave me a look of his naked body and hard boner while he jacked.

If the instrument case wasn't there I was disappointed. I fired my peter without much enthusiasm wishing for my anonymous buddy. The need to wank required a cumshot, but how disappointing when my counter-part was missing.

Once an entire week went past without him. But gladly, he and his instrument case were waiting for me after the sad hiatus. I got brave. "Where you been?" I asked softly while we entertained each other. "Got sick," he answered.

That short exchange was our only conversation, and we never got even close to touching each other. We continued watching each other masturbate all through the rest of my eighth grade. When school started the next August, my buddy never showed up.

 But thanks to him I had learned that "two is better than one" and found the confidence to make a couple of jerking friends who came closer and shared space with me at the park's pee-trough after school.

Totally Anonymous

Monday, November 27, 2017

Lap Sitting

(Happy Thanksgiving, Eric. Here's something you might be able to post.)
Sorry Guys, I was away all week-end, however I am proud to present this one from Regi.
Eric-

I had an experience in sixth grade that made my junk tingle. It's my earliest memory of something sort of raunchy (yet sexually pleasant) happening to me.

It was at a family gathering at my grandparents' in another town. Could have been Thanksgiving, which is why I'm posting it this weekend.

I was around eleven and still uninformed about life. One of my aunts had a fancy new digital camera. She constantly took pictures, eventually calling me and "Tony," a cousin of mine, to pose for her. He was maybe two or even three years older than I was.

She had Tony sit in a big chair and then told me to sit in his lap. That was kind of awkward. We tried various positions while "Aunt Lee" clicked away, but we couldn't settle down. The two of us kept wiggling around, trying to get comfortable with me sitting on his legs

Tony said, "Quit squirming." He put both of his hands in front of my stomach to hold me still. Soon his hands migrated downward. He cupped his fingers around my package and whispered, "I'm checking for alien life forms."

When Aunt Lee was satisfied, we got out of the chair. Due to Tony groping me, I was acutely aware  of having a stiffie that made a point in the front of my pants. Apparently Tony noticed it too and wanted a replay.

People began to leave and it got quiet in the house. Those who were left were in the kitchen. Tony found me and said, "Let's do that chair thing again." There was nobody else in the room. I got in his lap. He put both of his hands on my crotch again. This time he located my little weenie in my pants and wiggled his fingers on it, telling me "It's alive!" as it became stiff. My whole groin tingled.

"Now you," Tony said. We traded places. He sat on my legs and I reached around him to see what I could feel. I was highly curious and soon located his boner, which felt quite large to my exploring hand. He said "Ooh! Ooh!" For some reason we quit. Maybe we heard people coming.

Later in the evening we went out back and sat in a patio chair, Tony's butt in my lap. He was stiff again and encouraged me to feel all I wanted to. I squeezed, rubbed, mashed, tickled -- did all the things that came to mind. After several minutes he told me, "That feels good but you better stop now."

Since I was not yet aware of ejaculations, my pay-off for fumbling around with Tony was pretty simple. I got a boner, experienced odd tingling sensations in my junk, and felt the size and condition of Tony's stiffie.

 Tony, on the other hand... When I think about the encounter years later, I really don't know how far he let it go. His advice "Better stop now" seems to mean that he was close to firing a load but stopped me in time.

But maybe, just maybe, he was so horny that he let me keep manipulating his hard-on until his peter reached a climax and scored a goal inside his pants. That would mean he stopped me after cumming, not before. Maybe he actually let me make him climax. 

The next time I saw Tony it was a couple years later, another holiday dinner. For reasons that I couldn't understand at the time, he stayed completely away from me, wouldn't even talk to me. So what might have happened in his pants on that previous holiday weekend is a little mystery that I'll never know the answer to.

Regi