TRUE FIRST TIME TALES

Conrad's First Time Tale

I was fifteen and it happened with my best friend Ben.

I was sure I was gay, and it wasn’t all that cool to be gay yet, so I was hiding it like 90% of us were then. I hadn’t told anyone, and hadn’t even let on to anyone that I was anything but totally straight. But boy did I want boys! Bad!

So my best bud Ben was over for the night one night. We’d heard about guys getting raped and argued about it even being possible before. Ben said that any guy who didn’t want what was going on wouldn’t get hard and couldn’t get off and so couldn’t be raped. We didn’t argue about being bunged without permission, we were talking getting erect and being ridden by a chick even though you didn’t want it.

“No dude would be hard if he didn’t want it,” Ben always said.

I agreed he had a point, but I argued that it was still possible for a dude to get hard and get off even though he didn’t want to.

“Even if you don’t want it, if it’s riding your dick, it’s getting hard and it’s getting off,” I argued.

We’d had this argument a few times by now. And I’d dreamed up a fantasy about the argument. You know. And I was so horny, and my folks wouldn’t be home for hours, and the opportunity was there, and we were stoned, so…

“If I started giving you a handy right now, you’re saying you wouldn’t even bone up. Right?”

“Probably not, dude. If you were a decent-looking chick, I’d bone right up. But not some dude.”

“I don’t think so. I think if it’s getting attention, it’s going to bone up. No way otherwise. Simple physiology.”

“Dude, when I see a hot chick at the mall, and it want’s to bone up, or times like that, I can stop it from going full-boned almost every time. And if some dude were jacking me off? No way it would bone up. And it sure won’t with a dude’s hand doing it.”

“How would a dude’s hand be different than a chicks hand? A hand is a hand.”

We were smart dorks enough that his answer was, “A hand is a hand, sure, but knowing who it’s connected to makes the difference.”

“I still say the primitive drive will take over and you’ll bust a nut.”

I’d been working on getting Sam to jack together, and it seemed slow going, so having Ben suddenly seem like a possibility opening was out of nowhere. And I jumped on it.

“Roll a doobie. By the time you got it rolled, I’ll got you boned.”

“Bullshit.”

“Put up or shut up.”

“Are you fucking serious?”

It was the way he said it that made me sure he would go for it. He could have said the same words in any number of other ways and I would have been like, “He’s angry,” or such and know it wasn’t going well. But the way he said those words told me he was already recalling exactly where the pot and wraps were. He rarely had either, his parents were more nosy and involved, while mine didn’t ‘clean’ my room while I was out. And my dad was giving me huge hints he knew about the grass and wasn’t approving but not pissed either. And if Dad knew, Mom already knew and had told him or he’d talked it over with her before mentioning certain things to me in certain ways at certain times. Oh, he knew, and was telling me to keep it well hidden and out of view and myself out of trouble – OR ELSE.

So, anyway, the way he said that, I was sure he would. He didn’t know I had any pot, or he’d have asked to smoke it already. He’d do almost anything to get high so long as it wasn’t wrong or illegal or stupid. I’d thought about pot-for-sex somehow, but hadn’t come up with anything yet. But now…

“Yeah. Roll a joint, and while you roll it, if it don’t respond, so to speak, maybe you’re right. We can figure out if we experiment further at that point.”

We’d jacked it together a couple times to some porn, and he used to keep a distance between us, but the last few times he didn’t even care if our elbows bumped as we went at it.

He thought about it, eyes narrowed just a bit in deep consideration, for a couple of seconds at most, then said with a nod, “You’re on.

He got up and got the weed and papers from where he knew I hid it, and sat back down. I’d thought about this enough to pull over the low dinner tray thing and put it next to him, on the other side of him from me, to work on so he didn’t use his lap like you’d usually do.

As he opened the baggie, I opened his jeans.

Damn! I’d never been so turned on! My dick was so hard it was uncomfortable! And throbbing! Wow!

My arms were trembling as I pulled his jeans down.