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It was 1984. We were in eighth grade. Most of my friends and I had turned fourteen, a couple were still thirteen. We were all geeks. You know, brains that didn't look like the 'good looking' kids. I had plenty of dorky friends, but not all of them played D&D. My closest friends all did.

There were five of us. Sometimes Brad made six, but he didn't always play with us much at that time. He used to, but now he had chores and things to do with his family a lot. So usually it was Dan, Steve, Mark, Paul, and me on weekends, playing D&D from Friday night to Sunday night. We'd take breaks for Saturday Night Live and Doctor Who and a few other programs, and for food or sleep.

Paul's house was the usual place we played all weekend. He had a big basement with a room that had some furniture and things that made it a nice place to play. His older brother had fixed that basement room up like that, but he'd gone to college a couple years before, and hardly ever came home anymore. Even when he did, he was barely at the house, and he didn't care that we had took over his old party room. So now it was Paul's, and the only partying it saw was weekend D&D parties. Paul's folks were really lenient. He was never in trouble at school or anything, got great grades, and did chores, so they weren't helicopter parents or anything. They left us alone all weekend, except to make sure we ate something.

One of us would sleep in the old recliner, two of us on the big old couch, and one of us would go sleep on the floor in Paul's room with him. Some blankets on his bedroom floor was way better than the basement floor. We rotated places so that it was fair. We also rotated who was the dungeon master. Steve was the best one by far.

Man, we'd play all day and all night all weekend long. It was great!

That weekend, Dan had stuff to do with his family, so he wasn't going to be able to play. We had begged Brad to play, so we would have four adventurers. He liked to play, it was just that his parents were stricter than most of ours. So we thought. He said he had to do chores and things with his family quite often, and only played with us that weekend after we begged him.

It was a lot of fun, as usual. Steve was DM, which meant it was a very tricky and challenging and rewarding campaign. Tons of fun.

We'd played all Friday night, of course, and had a really good time. But we were getting punch-drunk and silly, and so tired, so we called a break when we found a place to secure our party for a rest period, did all the things you do for a rest period, and put the game on hold.

We sat around, talking about the game, like you do, until we began to pass out.

It was my turn to sleep on the couch, which was almost as good as the recliner. Steve, as the DM, got the recliner. Paul went up to his room with Mark. They were sort of best buds, so usually Mark went up to Paul's room with him.

I still don't know to this day whether Paul and Mark were getting up to stuff in his room. Looking back at how often Mark talked us into sleeping on the couch, or trading his turn on the recliner, so he could sleep in Paul's room with him, I really do think they were up to stuff. Especially as neither of them ever got married. I've thought of asking him, and about him and Mark, but that's their business. We both lost contact with Mark, and we haven't heard from him in many years now.

Anyway, that left Brad to share the couch with me.

On the couch, we slept head-to-feet, almost like a sixty-nine. It was sort of a joke, that. When we were figuring out who was sleeping where, we'd say, "So-and-so is sixty-nining on the couch with so-and-so this time."

So, Steve had passed out kind of early on the recliner, drained from running the game. It was mentally taxing to run a D&D campaign. Paul and Mark went upstairs.

I stretched out on the couch, and Brad was sitting up watching television on a chair at the table. Those chairs weren't very comfortable, being just old kitchen chairs. I was fine with falling asleep and Brad could climb on the couch when he wanted.

I woke up having to use the john. I saw Brad actually asleep on one of those old kitchen chairs. He was all slumped and about to fall off it. Dumbass. So when I came back, I shook his shoulder and woke him up.

"What?" he asked, and tried to get more comfortable on that chair.

"Get on the couch, orc-brain."

"I will," he said, and put his chin back on his chest.

I went back to the couch and laid out. He didn't come to the couch. I rolled on my side and saw him still on the chair. Steve didn't wake up easy, so I said, "You're gonna be sore if you fall asleep in that chair, you know."

He shrugged.

Okay, fine.

So I went to sleep.

I was woken up by the guys talking, and sat up. Damned if Brad wasn't still asleep in the chair, his head back, mouth open, half-slumped to the side. That had to suck!

He woke up later, and was obviously sore all day! Kind of miserable because of it.

We played all day again. Until we got so tired we had to sleep.

Since Steve was DM, he got the recliner again. He usually got the recliner, as he was so often the DM. Running a campaign was hard work, so he passed out.

Somehow, Mark talked me into sleeping on the couch again. I don't have a clue how. Really can't remember. I really didn't mind, since the couch was softer than blankets on Paul's floor, it wasn't a hard sell.

So I was on the couch again instead of Paul's bedroom floor. And it was Brad's second turn on the couch. You always did two couch nights in a row on the rotation. Unless Mark traded or talked one of us into a trade.

Steve asleep in the recliner, Paul and Mark upstairs, and me on the couch again. And Brad was sitting up watching television on a chair again.

I was a pretty considerate kid, and the idea of Brad sleeping in that chair again bothered me. He was sore and sleepy all day from doing that last night.

"Hey, Brad," I said.

"What?"

"Come sleep on the couch."

"I'm fine."

"Bullshit. Come sleep on the couch or I'll push you out of that chair overnight."

"Shut up."

I waited, but he didn't.

"Come sleep on the couch or I'll pour water on your lap while you're asleep and the guys'll think you peed in your sleep."

"No you wouldn't."

"Wanna bet?"

He turned and looked at me, and I guess he believed me. Something like that wasn't beyond any of us.

So, he sighed, turned off the television, and came and laid down on that huge couch next to me. Upside down. That couch was so wide. When you sat on it, the cushions were so long from front to back that they almost propped up your legs. So the two of us fit just fine. We touched a bit here and there, but no big deal.

We kind of chatted a bit, and then fell asleep.

I woke up feeling massively horny. I mean, I was ragingly horny. I had a boner so hard it was almost painful.

It took me a second to notice something.

There was a pressure on my lap. Right on my boner.

Then the pressure moved.

Then I noticed my pants were open! The fly and the button were undone! And a hand was gently feeling my boner. Then my balls. Then my boner.

I could feel the cool air of the room on the wet spot in my underwear.

I was so shocked that I just laid there, unmoving, and starting to shake.

I mean, this was in-fucking-sane!

Brad was groping my junk! He'd even opened my pants!

I don't know why I didn't jump up off the couch, or react in some way. I just didn't.

I mean, what teenaged boy doesn't like the feeling of a hand playing with his hard-on?

I stayed there, very still, in the dark, and let his hand feel out every last bit of me down there.