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TRUE FIRST TIME TALES

Eric's First Time

 Rated: X  teens (*)

 

 


 

I grew up living in a massive trailer court a couple of miles outside Lansing, Michigan. I'm not kidding, it was huge! It was just outside town, trees on three sides, and two interstate highways right nearby. There were a bunch of factories and a truckstop, and some small stores, but not much else. The trailer park was so big it had three septic ponds! Man, they stunk something awful in the summer! Our elementary school was a couple miles south on a mostly empty county road, so we had to ride a bus, and our high school was even further away past that. We were so out in the middle of nowhere. It sucked.

I'd known I was gay since the start of seventh grade, just about the time puberty started. My friends were good guys, mostly brains and gaming dorks, and you would think that at least a couple of them were possibly gay - but there was no way for shy little me to find out. I'd tried talking about sex with them, and maybe trying to see how they felt about gay guys, but no one wanted to talk about gay guys, or anything but girls.

On the first day of high school, I saw so many hot guys, it was almost painful. But there was this one... his name was Scott. He was in my Algebra and Physical Sciences classes. And, I found out on the way home on the bus, he lived in the trailer park across the main road! Almost next door, kind of!

Damn.

He was smallish and lean, with slightly curly blond hair, wide dark-green eyes, ruby lips, and a splash of freckles across his cheeks. His complexion was medium, as if slightly tanned, all over. He wore khaki slacks and a dress shirt in solid colors all the time. Tan loafer-style shoes with brown or tan socks. Always neat and tidy, always organized, and always smiling. Almost perfect teeth that were very white. His face was so perfect - a nice round face and head, full chin that was rounded as well, slightly sharp cheekbones. He spoke very clearly, used very little slang or profanity, and had a great sense of humor. He was smart, of course. And he played the same fantasy games I and most of my friends did.

He was so fucking perfect. So hot. So nice. It was torture becoming friends with him.

I had the hots for him from day one, and it only got worse as time went by. Especially as we got to be good enough friends we hung around with each other at the trailer park. By the end of ninth grade I hardly looked at other guys. Well, I did, I just always compared them to Scott, and they always came up short.  

Tenth grade was kind of worse. Scott only got hotter, and I only got more desperate and more lonely. A couple of guys - rumor had it - had been caught making out after a party. They weren't part of my clique, they were preppies and richies. They didn't deny it, and it sort of died down after a couple months. I would have talked to them and asked them if the rumors were true, but I was far too shy. And since they were my 'betters' and higher up the social ladder, that made it even more difficult.

Some of my friends made fun of them while the rumors were going around, and since more than one of them were guys I suspected might be gay, I sort of gave up on anyone I knew being like me. Or ever liking me in that way.

Another thing that made tenth grade worse than ninth, was that I now had Scott in my gym class.

Oh... God.

His naked body was everything I had imagined. For the most part.

He was lean, but fit. Not skinny and bony, just no extra weight anywhere. His legs were good. His chest and stomach were great. His ass was fantastic. His... front parts were... man... yeah.

Okay, we were both about to turn sixteen, and we both were about the same depth into puberty and development - which was further than most guys our ages. He had very little hair on his legs, arms, or chest, and nothing on his face, but downstairs, he had a nice patch of pubes. The hair on top of his head was nicely blond, with darker shades of honey and lighter shades of gold weaving through it. Downstairs, it was pretty much all a light golden-blond. His skin was the color of a light tan all over, except where it was slightly lighter beneath whatever he wore when he was outside and getting sun. It had to be Speedos or bikini trunks, judging by the shape and placement of the tan lines. That only made his excellent ass that much more... fucking awesome. It was one of those plump, round, juicy asses. The kind that made me scrunch up my shoulders and wiggle. Inside, anyway. You had to really look to see the slight blond fuzz on his butt, but I really looked in the showers when I could. And I always looked down. He was hung. Nothing exceptionally long, or fat, just so nicely shaped and sized. It was a hanger, not shrunken and shriveled. Maybe four inches just hanging limp. Pinkish head, perfectly shaped as if right out of a biology textbook. Straight shaft, slightly pink near the head, slightly tan on the rest of its length. And the way his pubes seemed to match his skin tone down there... it was almost as if he didn't have any pubes.

God, I still remember that first day of changing and showering in gym class. We'd been friends since the start of the previous school year, exactly a year, so when we found out we had gym together, we were looking forward to having lockers next to each other - along with our other friends.

I was looking forward to it more than any of them were, I was sure. And for very different reasons. It was going to be nice to have friends at the start of the class and all, but having Scott there was the icing on the cake.

And it did wonders for my masturbation sessions. Wow!

Seeing that thing hanging and swinging as we walked to and from the showers... and as he dressed and undressed... wow! His balls were nice, too. Big and full, and a really nice sack with fuzzy blond hairs. Not too wrinkly, not all smooth and shiny. And it let his balls hang nicely, and sway side to side as he walked. And that butt!

Damn, he was perfect from hair to toes. And not just physically. He was a great guy, smart, funny, honest, caring, giving, forgiving, just about every good 'ing' there was.

Yeah, it was love at first sight, and it only became deeper over the year.

We both turned sixteen in November - me before Thanksgiving, him right after. We both had parties with our friends, playing games and watching movies. When he had his party, I had my license and an old car, so I drove some of my friends to his party. It wasn't my first time at his trailer. We'd been to each other's places quite a bit since we'd became friends just over a year ago. We could even walk to each other's trailers if we wanted to. We'd done a few sleepovers as well, usually with other friends at the same time.

The few times it was just the two of us were almost painfully hot. It was so tempting to try something. But Scott was as shy than I was. Some of our friends would make comments about girls, like, "I'd sure like to put my face between those tits and go phtpthpt!" Some didn't. Scott didn't, but he'd agree or smile, or join in the laughs, like the rest of us... but he'd also blush. Oh, shit, the way he'd blush! HIs cheeks would go red, his dark-green eyes would squint a bit, and he'd get that cute lop-sided grin. Fuck, was he so adorable when he was all embarrassed and blushed and grinning!

So, a month after we'd turned sixteen, on the last day of school before the start of Christmas break, as we left the lunch line together, he asked me if I wanted to stay over at his place the upcoming weekend after school let out.

"My folks and I are going to visit relatives in Florida for a week on Sunday. Want to come over on Saturday and stay the night? You can stay until about noon on Sunday."

Sounded good to me. Some of our friends were doing sleepovers for the weekend, and we'd both been invited to more than one. The big gaming sessions would be during the week, though, after the weekend. Scott and a couple of others were going to miss it.

I remember asking, "Anyone else?"

And I remember him looking at me, and saying, "No. Just you and me."

My other friends would have added, 'dude,' or 'man' at the end of that sentence. Or would have said, "No, dude. Just you and me, man." Not Scott. So cool.

And I remember how I thought at that moment... that there was something hidden in his answer. It was the way he looked at me, or the way he looked, or the way he inflected something he'd said. There was just something...

It made me feel special. It was like a cable connecting us for a moment. It felt as if there was just me and him.

I remember feeling like I was about to blush as I said, "Okay, cool," as cool as I could.

"Great. Come over as early as you can on Saturday."

"Okay. See ya then."

"Great," he said, with one of his soft, half-laughs.

He blushed. Not a lot, and nothing like he could when he was totally embarrassed. Just a flush of red on his cheeks, and a little bit of that lop-sided grin.

I asked, "You going to Mark's Friday night for the adventure?"

"Yeah." That's about as close to slang as he ever used. "It should be an awesome little adventure." Unless you count 'awesome' used properly as slang, which it isn't, as Scott would gladly inform you. He was in Honors English. I was nearly in Remedial English.

"We could go straight from his place over to mine," he pointed out.

"Sure," I agreed.

So, the Friday night short adventure was awesome. It went four hours and a half, and nearly all of us nearly died at least once. But we all gained levels and treasure and items. Then we redid our character sheets as we listened to music, then messed around on the video game system, and then eventually hit the rack.

I managed to get the floor next to Scott. Just being that close to him as he slept... fucking wow. Mark left a small light on so we could get up and use the can at night and see where we were going, so I was able to watch him sleep. He always slept on his back, usually with his hands behind his head. Before I finally fell asleep myself, I was sure I saw a boner change the shape of his crotch at one point. Totally sure of it. It was so difficult not sitting up to have a closer look, but I was so worried someone else would wake up and catch me. That was also the reason I didn't go to the can and jack one out. I was hard when I fell asleep, and so very hard when I woke up.

We had breakfast, messed around with things our characters needed to do for levels and other things in-game, and played some video games and listened to some music. We watched "Brazil" for the thousandth time, and then some of us had other things to do, some went to stay over at other's houses, and some stayed there for the next night as well.

Scott and I left to go to his place just after two.

I parked in front of his trailer and walked in behind him. The trailer was quiet.

"Folks not home?" I asked as we got drinks from the fridge.

"No. They went to see my uncle and his new wife downstate for the day," he said, handing me my bottle of juice. He was wearing that cute half-grin and a nice blush. "They won't be back until just before we leave for Indiana tomorrow."

Oh?

I nearly said that aloud. Nearly. Instead, I sort of stood there and stared, meeting his grin and blush with my own. Then he gave one of those soft half-laughs, too. The trifecta of cuteness.

God it was hard to breathe in that moment. The juice felt so very cold in my hand. I remember how cold it felt. And how the little shivers in my guts weren't from that.

He turned and headed toward the stairs. I followed, almost scared. I watched his perfect butt as he went up the stairs in front of me.

"You can sleep in the extra room, as usual," he said as we got halfway up the stairs. "Or not."

 Or not? I thought. Sleep where else? Usually, if I were the only one staying over, I slept in the extra room. If more than just me were staying over, we all used the floor, except whomever wanted the bed in the extra room.

When we got to his room, we tossed our packs on the bed, as usual.

"I need to change clothes and take a shower," he said, opening a drawer in his dresser.

"Yeah, I could use a shower, too," I said.

I'd been boned almost all night, and hadn't showered since yesterday morning. A shower sounded great. I'd showered at his and other friends' houses before, and they'd showered at mine. This was nothing new. I'd even gotten off in everyone's showers a few times. Scott's in particular. I was looking forward to a good session after the all-night boner last night. The dreams I'd had were full of Scott and some of the other guys.

He pulled underwear out of the dresser, then turned to look at me while still holding them. I found my eyes latching on them in his hand, thinking about how they had caressed and supported his so very nice privates so many times.

"I have an idea," he said, looking at me.

"What's that?"

"Well, I don't want to waste any time, so how about we take a shower together?"

I can remember how I blinked, over and over, for several seconds, before I gasped out, "Are you serious?"

"Sure. We shower at school every day. No big deal. We can save time and water and have more time to work on the characters and do other things."

He spoke quickly and without it sounding like his usual self. He almost sounded rushed or hurried. He was hardly ever rushed. And even when he was, he didn't sound like it.

I don't have to tell you what I was thinking. The very idea of taking a shower with him, alone, at his place, with no one home...

I'd be boned, and I knew it. For a moment, I thought that might be a good thing. It would make the topic of sex be an almost certainty. It might lead to his getting boned, too. It could lead to...

Nothing. I knew, nothing. We'd laugh, joke about it, and then finish showering and get out and dry off and get dressed.

Do I dare shower with him? He asked. Not like I asked and he said no, which I was sure he would have. But, instead, he'd asked.

To save water and time.

Uh, sure.

No, he's got to be... something. Thinking the same thing.

Scott's gay?

He sure doesn't talk about girls like most of the guys do. He's the most shy about those girl-sex jokes. He offered to shower together. Alone.

Oh, man, I gotta take this chance.

Play it cool.

I put on my best, 'it's all cool' face, shrugged, and said, "Sure. We'll have more time for games and stuff."

"Great," he said, grinning a bit wider. "Get your stuff out."

He laughed his 'dirty joke' laugh and blushed. I got it, then laughed and blushed too, and added, "Perv," mostly out of habit. I regretted it the second I said it, though he didn't seem to be offended or anything. He just grinned and put his underwear down, and started getting undressed.

I'd seen him undress quite a few times over the past three or four months at school, and a few times at his trailer or mine, but this time it was far more intense. I knew we were going to shower together. Fuck!

His shirt came off first, and I reached for my pack. As I got it opened, he dropped his slacks and folded them, then put them in the hamper. I watched from under my brows as I fished out my clean clothes. His butt in those tighty-whities as he bent over the hamper was amazing.

When he turned around, he filled out the front of his tighty-whities really nicely. Stuff hung and dangled in their snug embrace admirably. I could make out the bulge of his head, and the swell of his balls below. His legs were so nice, all smooth and lean, with sparkly blond hairs faint against his slightly tanned skin.

Then he dropped his briefs, stepped out of them, and put them into the hamper. His bare ass was... wow. Those faint blond hairs caught the light coming in the window and sparkled. The crack was so straight and perfect, and the angle where his thighs met below his cheeks was pure art. Seeing his balls hanging from behind like that was... words don't do justice.

I stood there with clean clothes in my hands, blocking the front of myself, unable to not stare, as he turned around.

It was fuller and longer than ever before. It had to be nearly half-hard. It looked like it would be a good six inches hard. So full as it was, it was plump and juicy and heavy. It swung and hung so gracefully as he stopped turning.

Oh, shit, was I boned up now.

"Are you going to get ready or not?" he asked, slightly laughing.

No! I was so hard it wasn't funny. There was no way I could drop trou right then. He'd see me totally boned and know I was scoping him, and know I was so gay.

I had no answer, and ended up with a pathetic, "Uh..."

"What? We've seen each other naked dozens of times," he said to me, looking right at me. "More than dozens. September to December... five days a week, that's about eighty days."

"Uh... but..."

"Come on, I'll go get the water ready," he said, walking past me, carrying his clean underwear and nothing else.

He looked at me every step as he walked past me and out the door. What an ass! Seeing it as he walked past and away, and through the door... sigh.

I was left standing there with my clean clothes in my hand and a pounding boner in my pants.

And one thought in my head...

DO IT, PUSSY!

I went back and forth - yes or no... he's testing to see if I'm gay or if he can trust me...  he's joking or he's serious... if I go, he'll either laugh and throw me our or he'll let me in and...

I was breathing funny and shaking. Starting to sweat. My guts were churning.

I really didn't know what to do.

Time passed, and I knew he was waiting to see what I'd do. Soon he'd take a shower and come back, or he'd come back and see. I'd do it, or I'd wait and shower alone, or I'd leave and probably be afraid to ever talk to him again.

What do I do?

I was sixteen, horny, boned up, and had a chance to shower alone with the hottest guy ever, one of my very best friends.

What do I do?

"You're still standing there?" I heard him ask from behind me, at the door.

I whipped around. He was still naked, slightly more hard than a minute or so ago, and looking at me with that half-grin and all blushed from his neck up to his ears.

"You sure don't have to, but, if you want to, come on," he said, barely able to look at me. "I'm going to take a nice long shower. Either come or don't. Just, don't say anything to anybody. Promise?"

"Uh, yeah, I promise," I said, my heart hammering at my chest.

"You're not going to leave, are you?"

"No."

"Promise?"

"Yeah."

"You won't tell anyone, will you? Even if you don't?"

His expression was enough to make me almost drop my clothes and go hug him. Not sexually, just to reassure him. He looked shaken and worried.

"I promise," I said solemnly.

"Really promise?" he asked, holding my gaze this time.

I nodded, holding his gaze too, and said, "I promise I won't leave, and I promise I won't tell."

He smiled much wider, visibly sighed, and then nodded. "Thanks."

He looked so relieved, and so glad. So much so that I even felt relieved and a bit glad.

Then he turned and walked toward the bathroom down the hall.

That ass...

My single thought, "Oh, holy shit!" was so profound, that I almost never used that phrase again.

Oh, holy shit!

He's serious!

And he doesn't mean just a shower!

He is!

I dropped my clothes on the bed, tore off the clothes I was wearing, and picked up just my underwear, just as he had, then steeled myself and walked toward the hall.

It was the longest hallway in recorded architectural history. The hallways of the Pentagon are mere alcoves. The Summer Palace in Beijing is a cottage. No airport in the world has a concourse to compare to that hallway from his bedroom door to the bathroom door.

One million steps later, I was standing in the doorway of the bathroom, looking at the frosted glass doors of the shower. I could see the shadow of his form behind it. I could hear the running water. I could feel the humidity. I could smell the soap and shampoo.

My dick hurt. It was so hard it was swollen larger than the skin was used to. It felt like tiny cracks were forming all around and over it as the blood overfilled it. My balls were tingling. My guts were churning. I was panting for breath.

I saw him in profile. Through the frosted glass, I could see his erection in fuzzy outline as he washed his hair. I could see the graceful arc of his buttocks.

I felt like I was about to have a heart attack as I put my underwear on the sink next to his. For a moment, I considered picking up his briefs, holding them, sniffing them, examining them closely.

But why?

He was mere steps away, naked, wet, hard... and apparently wanting to.

It was only four or five steps, but each one seemed a mile or more long and took hours to complete. But then I was standing at the door, his shape on the frosted glass. I watched my hand reach out and grasp the handle, and watched it slide the door open. Slowly. Oh, man, how slowly.

Then, amid the steam, I saw him smiling at me. A huge, grand, awesome smile. And he was naked, and wet, and hard, and...

"Come on in. The water's perfect," he said, rinsing the last of the shampoo out of his hair. He had just the beginning fuzz of hair under his arms.

I stepped in over the low lip, onto the slippery floor, and turned to close the door. I was almost afraid to turn around. What would I do next? Pretend it was all normal, reach for the shampoo, and just shower? Should I look at him? At his body? At his boner? What?

The water was barely misting my back, but I could feel how hot it was. It was no small shower in a tub. It was a large shower stall, about three feet deep and about five or six feel long. A huge shower head threw water into the middle in a wide, dispersed stream of jets. I was getting the outside spray only.

Then I felt his hands on my sides. He guided me backward, until I was under the water, facing the controls, my back to him. The water was so hot it was almost uncomfortable. His hands slid up my now slick sides, over my shoulder blades, and up into my hair. He started washing my hair.

I can't tell you how nice it feels to have someone else washing your hair. When barbers do it, it's kind of nice. When a naked guy standing behind you is doing it, it's fantastic.

"Pass the shampoo?" he asked.

I reached for it from the shelf in front of me, and passed it back to him without looking back. I felt the cooler shampoo enter my hair, and felt his hands massage it to a foam.

"I've always liked your hair, Eric," he said softly. "Strawberry-blond is my favorite hair color."

"I've always liked yours," I said, feeling odd, strange, and embarrassed.

"It's boring blond," he said.

"No, it's sort of a light sandy, with streaks of honey and gold."

He laughed his embarrassed laugh.

"And it's got the perfect amount of curly to it, too," I added.

"Bleh. I like your straight hair. It goes where you want it to, and it shines in the sunlight, like gold and fire."

Oh, shit!

"You've got the rarest blond hair of all. Real strawberry-blond. It's awesome. Mine is boring sandy-blond."

"No, yours is awesome! All those streaks of light and dark, and enough curls to make it interesting. Nothing boring about it. Boring is my brown eyes. Yours are so deep a green it's amazing."

He laughed again, then said, "No, your deep brown eyes are amazing. Like milk chocolate. Or extra-rich hot cocoa on a cold day."

Oh my fucking God!

"No," I said, embarrassed, and only thinking to out-do him, as if it were a common game of out-do the other. "Amazing is... amazing is your lips."

Ooops! Too much?

"What?" he asked, laughing a bit. "Why my lips?"

In for a penny... as they say. Besides, I'd always wanted to tell him how hot he is.

"They're so red! And perfect. The way the upper one arches like a painting by a master artist. And the way the lower one is so plump and..."

I couldn't go any further. It was too embarrassing and too personal.

"I always liked your lips, Eric. They look so soft and plump. And the color, like peaches that're almost ripe, but just not quite."

I could feel his breath on my back as he talked, and it was absolutely thrilling and chilling. I had goose bumps despite the very hot water.

"Your hair's done. Want to turn around?"

And then he kissed my back, square in the center. And then to one side, then the other. His hands moved from my hair to my shoulders.

I felt myself almost lose my feet. My legs were almost wobbly. I was almost breathless and nearly about to pass out.

He kissed my back, all over, and his hands moved to my sides, then around the front, and soon they were at my nipples. I was being hugged from behind, kissed on my back, and my nipples were being rubbed under the hot water.

I was going to cum. I wasn't just close, I was going to.

"Stop!" I almost shouted, shocked and embarrassed.

I slid the shower door open, and as I stepped toward it I almost fell on the slick floor.

My thought was, Why is this shower floor so slippery? Isn't it supposed to be safer than that?

"Please don't leave!" he cried.

It was almost a plaintive appeal. It sounded so forlorn and hurt.

I paused, one foot off the floor, and then put it down slowly. My heart was hammering against my chest so hard that I could feel it all the way through to my back. I sucked in air, wondering if I'd been holding my breath since the last words I'd spoke. I was shivering like mad, though the water was just as hot as ever and steam rose in thick curls.

"Please don't leave," he begged.

Actually begged. His voice was crammed full of it. I'd never heard anyone sound like that before, but I knew what it was instinctively.

I looked around and at him for the first time since I'd stepped into that shower stall.

He looked so... hurt. Scared. Worried. Alarmed.

It was painful to look at.

He was still mostly hard, but it was going down in stages, quickly.

"Please?" he nearly sighed. "Please stay?"

"I want to," I said slowly.

"Then stay. What's wrong? Did I go too fast? Or something? Or... don't you want to?"

Yeah, sort of. I mean, I was seconds from going off. Was. By then, I was going soft too. That purging pressure of impending orgasm was gone, but my balls still tingled with lust and need.

He looked at the floor for a moment, then seemed to force himself to look back at me. His green eyes were so deep with emotion that it felt as if they were pulling me into their depths as he said, "If you don't really want to, I understand. It's just," he looked down then back up again instantly, "I really want you."

It was as if that was the magic phrase. I went from scared and concerned, to filled only with desire and the need to comfort him and make him happy.

I closed the shower door and turned to face him in one movement, stepped to him, and put my hands on his upper arms. I didn't know what else to do, so I leaned forward and closed my eyes.

Somehow, our lips found each other. Either he kept his eyes open and maneuvered into position, or we just got lucky. Our lips touched tentatively, softly, then we crushed ourselves together.

My breath went from hesitant to heavy and ragged in a single second. My hands slid from his arms to his sides, and then around to his back, as his hands did much the same.

My mind started working again, and I realized I was hugging the adorable Scott, in the shower, at his place, alone, together, front to front. I went instantly hard. Faster than ever before in my life. If it were more than two heartbeats, then gravity is a function of salt content by percentage.

I can't remember exactly what happened next, over the following minutes, other than I had his naked, wet body in my arms, and his arms were around me, and our lips were exploring and experimenting, and it was fucking awesome.

It might have been seconds, or minutes, or more than an hour before I realized my dick was trying to rise up, but was stuck beneath his balls, and that his dick was trapped beneath my sack. It felt great! His warm, soft thighs rubbed the head of it, his soft, warm sack pressed against the side of the shaft. I could feel his sack on the side of my shaft well behind my head, and I could feel his head between my thighs, and beside my sack. Our motions as we kissed and rubbed with our hands made the smallest of movements across and over the surface of our erections. It was extremely exquisite. The smallest of sensations, the softest of caresses. And it was going to make me finish for sure. That tingle was growing in my balls, behind them, and inside my throbbing dick.

The thought of spewing my wad between his thighs, beneath his sack, only made it happen sooner. But there was no way I was going to stop. It felt amazing, and it was so good, and there was no way to pull back.

Instead, I locked my arms around his middle, grunted, "I'm going to shoot," into his mouth, and held on.

He held me even tighter against his body, and said, "Hold on, try not to yet," around our lips, and held perfectly still, other than our lips.

It was torture! I wanted to cum so badly, but I didn't want to cum so badly, too. It almost seemed like wasting my first orgasm with someone else, to shoot it so quickly, in the shower, without doing anything other than kissing and hugging.

I held still, other than my lips, and tried to think about baseball. I wasn't a big baseball fan, I was just trying the old adage. Baseball, football, video games, movies, books, math...

When the pressure subsided, and my balls relaxed, and the urge to release waned, I shivered and sighed. It was almost as good as cumming!

"Okay?" he asked as we continued to kiss and hug tightly under the hot water.

"Yeah. Okay," I whispered into his mouth.

"Great. I was going to in a second, too," he laughed.

"I think it's having our hard-ons trapped where they are," I said.

"Yeah, maybe. But it feels really great!" he laughed.

"Yeah, it does. It's so soft and warm and smooth."

"Probably better than a vagina," he laughed.

"Ewww, gross!" I said, laughing with him.

The movement of our laughter felt amazing as our cocks slid between each other's thighs. 

Then we started kissing again.

After a lot of kissing and stroking each other's backs and sides, he asked, "Eric?"

"Huh?"

He pulled back so that we could look at each other, but we stayed locked in each other's' arms, our dicks between each other's thighs.

"There's something I've always wanted to do."

"Me too!" I replied instantly. "What's yours?"

He was deeply blushed, maybe more than I'd ever seen before. His lop-sided grin was bigger than usual too. He kept looking away then back at me.

I glanced down and could see the bases of our dicks, and our balls beside the shafts. It was beautiful.

He reached around me and shut off the water. It seemed instantly cold in there.

"Come on," he said, and led me out of the shower.

He grabbed a thick towel from the cabinet, and dried my hair, then face, then turned me around to dry my back, down over my butt - where he lingered and dried it more than it needed - then my thighs. God, it felt good! Then my lower legs, and then my feet. Then he turned me to face him, and he dried my face, neck, chest, stomach, all slowly and carefully, grinning up at me from time to time, but mostly watching what he was doing.

Then he came to my goods. Pubes first, and way more than they needed to be dried well. It felt great. Then my balls, and again, way more than they needed to be dry. Then, yeah, up and down, from base to head, with that soft, slightly damp, thick towel. Oh, shit!

Then he tossed the towel onto the hamper, and looked up at me, and then looked at my dick. He wrapped his hand around it, then leaned forward, and gently slid his lips over the head.

Oh, shit! It was like the softest, velvetiest, most wonderful thing I'd ever felt! Then I felt his tongue on the head! Oh, wow! And then... oh shit! The suction was...

"I'm gonna cum!" I grunted.

Instead of stopping and getting out of the way, he went down further, and his tongue slid along beneath it, and he sucked harder.

It felt like I was churning up every last sperm I'd ever created! I felt my balls tug upward, and my dick bend almost in half, slamming against his tongue and the roof of his mouth, and then I was pushing out a bowling ball!

Then another.

Another!

Oh, holy shit!

I had to hold onto his shoulders to keep from falling down! His soft, warm, tender mouth was sucking out my very life force! My dick was slamming around in his mouth like a pinball in an arcade game! My balls were turning inside out! I was up on my toes, back arched, gripping his shoulders with both hands, and groaning, "Oooo!" as I stared fixedly at the ceiling.

Waves rolled through my body, one after another, as I unloaded into Scott's soft mouth, over and over and over and...

It became too much! It was so intense that his tongue began to feel like sandpaper! I begged him to stop. I pulled my hips back. My red cock slid out of his mouth, shiny with saliva and cum. It dripped off the end, stringing down over his lip and chin. My dick twitched and throbbed, and oozed a long string out of the hole until Scott licked it away, which almost sent me into convulsions.

I grabbed my dick and backed up, shaky on my wobbly legs, laughing uncontrollably.

"Yum!" Scott hummed, smiling at me and wiping his chin. "That was a lot!"

"It felt like a lot!" I moaned, and sat down on the edge of the tub behind me. "Holy shit, dude!"

I was panting more than a bit. I opened my hands and looked at my dick. It wasn't soft yet, but it was going to be soon. The head was velvety red, the shaft almost red. My balls were up tight.

"Did I do it well?" he asked, getting to his feet.

The sight of his dick immediately stoked my fires, and it was as if I hadn't gotten off yet. I couldn't wait to do it to him.

I dropped to my knees in front of him, looked up at his smiling face, and said, "I think you did it perfect! Let's see how I do!"

He laughed a bit, and nodded. I looked back down, at his dick and balls, and started drooling. Seriously, I was drooling. I sucked it up, swallowed, and leaned forward.

Man, Scott was built awesomely. He was small and lean, like me, maybe five-one or five-two. No extra weight anywhere. And there was easily six inches of hard dick standing up at attention, with two nice big balls below it in a generous sack that let them hang a nice bit. The slit in the tip was red now, and a drop of milky-clear fluid beaded at it. Sandy-blond pubes, soaked and plastered flat.

That reminded me. I wanted to do that too, now that he'd done it. I had thought of doing it to him before, many times, but I had thought something else entirely when he'd said there was something he'd always wanted to do. Now I wanted to do it to him.

So I stood up, got a big, fluffy towel, and started with his hair. He was more dry than I had been, since a few minutes had gone by while he'd dried me then sucked me dry. But I still carefully and fully dried him from hair to toes, back first, then turned him around and did his front, ending with his balls, pubes, and then softly rubbing his dick dry.

Damn, that thing seemed so big on his small bod. It belonged on someone five-six or taller. On him, it looked like eight inches. It wasn't very thick, more lean and narrow, like the rest of his body. The head was right out of a Health class text book. Except it was red, especially on the edges and around the slit. His shaft was almost red just behind his head, and slightly darker than usual behind that. His balls were hanging low and grand, and I cupped and hefted them. Fucking nice.

Then I leaned forward, kissed the very tip, and then slid my lips over his head and then explored with my tongue. Man, it was so velvety soft and smooth! And it tasted salty and musky and awesome. I sucked. He moaned. His hands went to my shoulders. I slid my tongue along the underside, like he'd done to me, as I slid further down it. I felt it throbbing.

I'll remember his voice and his words until I die.

"Oh, Eric, that's awesome!" he sighed, his voice shaky.

I got more than half of his dick in my mouth, when it jerked against the roof and I tasted his pre-cum. So salty and earthy and warm and slick.

"Ohhh!" he sighed, long and slow.

I'll remember that sound until I die, too. It was so rewarding!

His dick jerked in my mouth every few seconds. I grabbed his balls after maybe a minute, and played with them with one hand, and held the base of his dick with the other. It was amazing to feel his dick swell and flex with that hand, as well as with my tongue and lips and mouth. His dick felt alive and responsive. And how it felt to my tongue! It was amazingly smooth and soft and so... velvety is the best word.

Awesome!

"Ohhh! I'm gonna soon!" he sighed, gripping my shoulders harder and going up on his toes. "Really soon!" he added in a higher, tighter voice. Then, after a couple of seconds, "Here it comes!" in an almost falsetto rising upward.

I heard his toes or ankles crack, and felt his cock flex and throb and swell in my hand and mouth. And then, as he groaned, "Oooo!" I felt his wad slam into the back of my throat! Fucking awesome! His entire cock flexed from base to head, and swelled up, and shot so hard! I barely remembered to swallow, and by then it was too late, his second shot flowed out and overflowed past my lips.

I didn't stop, though. I sucked, pulled back a bit, and swallowed. And he shot the third time, and I swear it was even more than the first two together.

He squeaked, "Ah!" and went up even higher on his toes, and nearly crushed my shoulders with his hands.

I felt the overflow of his first shots running down the side of my mouth, down my chin.

His dick jerked and flexed and shot, over and over, and I got into a rhythm where I swallowed every two shots of his wad.

Throb, flex, squirt... throb, flex, squirt, swallow.

Throb, flex, squirt... throb, flex, squirt, swallow.

Throb, flex, squirt... throb, flex, squirt, swallow.

Then it was throb, flex, drip a drop or two...  throb, flex, drip a drop or two, swallow.

Throb, flex, drip a drop or two...  throb, flex, drip a drop or two, swallow.

Throb, flex, drip a drop or two...  throb, flex, drip a drop or two, swallow.

"Oh, stop! Please!" he said quickly, and pulled back, pulling his dick from my mouth.

I felt the overflow of his first shots that had run down the side of my mouth, now running down my chin and onto my neck. I wiped it up as he looked down at his red, shiny dick. I licked it off my fingers, and wanted more. He was softly laughing and breathing hard. Then he looked up at me, all smiles. So hot!

 "Did I do it right?" I asked, mimicking his question earlier.

"I think you did it perfectly!" he answered, laughing a bit again, and smiling really widely. "It was the best thing I've ever felt!"

"Me too!"

He sighed a couple of times to get his breath back, sitting on the edge of the sink, sort of playing with his softening cock. My dick was growing hard again, ready to go again. I wondered if he would be ready soon, or not.

He gave a final sigh and shiver, and stood up and stretched. What a sight! His dick was far from soft, fuller than it usually was in the showers in school, and all shiny with my spit and his wad. And I could still taste his cum. So cool!

I stood up too, and gave a stretch. He laughed, probably knowing I was showing off my growing erection.

"I'll be ready to go again in a couple of minutes," he said, blushing cutely and grinning so adorably.

"Let's go to your room this time," I said.

The bathroom was growing cool again, the steam long since subsided with the door open as it was.

He stepped up to me, nodding, and wrapped his arms around me. I returned the gesture, loving the feeling of his body in my arms.

He whispered in my ear, "I fell in love with you a long time ago. I've wanted this for so long."

My, "Me too," seemed pale by comparison.

 


 


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Mike

07-11-2020, 00:31

+0 -0  

Wow, what a perfect love story. And Sooooo HOT!! I gotta know what happened. Happy ever after? Gosh I hope so. You need to write another chapter to that beautiful story. Please, don't leave us hanging.

-Mike


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          FTT - Eric