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FTT - Taylor W's Tale


 Taylor W's Tale

 Rated: X  15




I was fifteen and it was with my two best friends. The three of us had been best friends since first grade. We had other friends, but the three of us hung out together every day until high school.

We weren't in the popular cliques, but at least we weren't in the lower ones either. We were just normals. We got average grades, sometimes an F and sometimes an A. Randy loved baseball a lot, and football some, but thought basketball was boring. Brent was mostly into football, but also loved video games. I liked soccer and video games, but hated boring baseball or football. Sports cards were one of our common obsessions, though we all varied in sports and teams. Comic books were our other common obsession, though we all liked different kinds.

But we all preferred spending time together to doing anything else. We probably wouldn't have been friends if we hadn't grown up at the same age living on the same block on the very edge of town, and there weren't any other kids for blocks. Computers were expensive toys for richies. Mobile phones were bigger than home phones. Porn was limited to Hustler and Playboy and a few other magazines - which were something kids our ages could only imagine from the occasional cover rarely visible behind the drug store counter.

We never did any of those things I have heard other best buds got up to together. We never compared dicks as kids. We never talked about getting pubes or jerking off until those things took over our lives. Those things didn't exist to us until they did at puberty. We just didn't know or talk about those things. Girls didn't enter our daily lives until puberty, and then it was topic number one. Still, we never talked about jerking off or pubes or if we could squirt anything yet. We talked about boobs and butts and pussies and what we would do with girls, but we didn't really know anything and we sure hadn't done anything.

I remember one day when we were barely thirteen. Puberty was fucking with all three of us. We were growing fast, the daily zit wars had begun, we were sweaty and oily all the time, and odors were wafting that we'd never had to worry about before. Girls were the number one subject between us. I was noticing boobs and butts, and other things. I was wanking it at least twice a day, often three, sometimes four. I suspected Brent and Randy did, but we didn't talk about that stuff.

 I was over at Randy's house after school, and he changed out of his good school clothes so we could work on a dirt bike his dad had got him. I had seen him change clothes before, him and Brent both, but this time it was a huge turn-on. He dropped his jeans and I saw him in just his briefs. Man, I can remember how round and nice his butt looked in those tighty-whities as he leaned forward and stepped out of his pants. And how his bulge was all... bulgy and jiggly and interesting as he put away those pants and got out his work jeans. When he slid into his work jeans, and pulled them up, his package in those tighty-whities was all bunched up in the V of the open zipper for just a moment, and I could make out the tip of his dick and his balls. It was so hot a view that I got an insta-boner that raged until I took care of it in the bathroom a while later.

I started jerking off to that memory probably that night. Watching Brent and Randy change became very enjoyable. I had a deep desire to see that often. I schemed and planned and plotted to make that happen as often as I could. After each time it happened I would jerk off remembering what I'd seen for days or weeks, usually until I got another new view to think of and to fantasize that it led to something fun happening.

That was how I got into watching Brent and Randy grow. It was so interesting to see them get taller and broader, and the bulges in their tighty-whities grow. I watched a lot of guys. I saw more than a couple other friends in their underwear too. Seeing guys in their underwear was so hugely interesting and exciting.

I began to wonder if I was gay.

During seventh grade I enjoyed watching the other boys change and shower in gym class. I even liked seeing them in those tight gym shorts. I had a couple friends in gym class and got to see them naked for the first time. It was really interesting. Fantasies of Brent and Randy and my other friends expanded and became mixed with fantasies of other boys from the locker room.

I went past wondering and began to suspect I was gay.

In eighth grade,  I got crushes on boys. Nathan was this guy with the most awesome hair and great eyes and a juicy bod.  He was in my gym class.  He was tall and strong and popular and handsome and built like a sex god. Man, he had to have a good seven or eight inches hanging in the showers in eighth grade. His legs and his chest and his butt were all so hot. He was a richie and on a couple teams. He made me melt. He was probably the first boy I fantasized about being fucked by. I remember my crush on him so clearly. I wanted him to take me and tell me what to do and make me do it. I wanted him to control and own me.

 It got hard to convince myself that it was just a phase.

Brent and Randy were becoming sexy as hell. To me, anyway. This picture from "Married... With Children" reminds me of the three of us back then so much.


The guy on the left looks so much like Randy did. Kinda dorky, a bit lanky, blonde hair that he kept kind of long and messy and brushed up and back. He was the tallest and thinnest and sloppiest of the three of us. Floppy t-shirts and khakis or tanner slacks. His room was a horror even to Brent and me. Did these doofy faces that were terrific, and he was the joker among us.

The guy in the middle looks a lot like Brent did. Dark blond hair, brown eyes, square face, a bit stockier and sturdier and shorter than Randy. More serious than Randy and a bit smarter. Total neat freak. Well, not total neat freak, but his room was neater than my friends' rooms I'd seen, and most of my house. And he had the hottest ass! Still used his dad's weights some. He was buffed the way Bud got in "Married..."

That would leave poor Bud being me. Well, not that far off. Not ugly, but not hot. I had a mullet for a while in the nineties, yeah. But my hair was more sandy-brown that the dark-brown of Bud, though I had a similar build and stature. At least until Bud started using weights and got slightly muscular. I never did, so I never did. Randy did that. I stayed lean but soft. I was the shortest of the three of us, and the most studious and the most dorky. I got the best grades, and I was still way into comics.

So there's the three amigos. It's late eighth grade, and time for the prom. Brent's dad owned a limo service. Well, it was a limo and and van rental and bus travel/tour service. He had several limos he hired guys to drive according to a schedule his wife worked out of sales and calls, and several more limos he leased to the guys who drove them and got their own fares and jobs. He promised us a six-seater for prom if Brent got a date for the dance. We swore to each other we'd get dates and be cool. We planned this big night. We'd pick them up in the limo, show them off at the prom, then take them to this nice restaurant, then a movie, then get the girls home, and then we'd spend the night at Brent's.

Well, we managed it. The getting dates part, anyway. The being cool didn't go all that well.

We had talked to girls, sure, once in a while, but we didn't have any friends that were girls. The girl I asked was the lab partner of my friend in chemistry. Three guys and one girl. Yeah. She put up with us, and usually outdid us in classwork. She had other friends in class, who sat at the next lab table, so she spent most of her time talking to them. I worked up the guts and asked her a couple weeks before the prom. I did the whole, "just friends going to prom together" spiel. And she went for it.

Brent and Randy both got girls they knew from classes.

It was a disaster. Not at first. At first, it was quiet and awkward. Once we had picked up all three of them, they sat across the limo from us. The three of us were too scared and ignorant to know what to talk about. The girls were probably in the same place.

The prom wasn't so bad. We sat down at first, got drinks, and tried to be all cool and awesome. We danced, mostly because the girls insisted. It was nearly horrifying. I knew I wasn't interested in anything from her. I hoped she didn't expect anything from me.

My buds, though, were dancing with their hands on their dates' butts. Or almost. And were up close, grinning and looking like they were enjoying themselves. Cindy and I weren't having a great time.

So, the ride to the restaurant was okay. The girls talked together, we boys talked together, masked by the music from the car. Then dinner. Okay. Food was good. Cindy and I were going along with the flow, but we weren't feeling it. The guys and their dates were. In the car, we sat in boy-girl pairs this time. The guys and their dates were close and talking and having a great time. Cindy and I talked about the meal and school. We were both wishing it was over.

Then the movie.

I won't date myself by naming it. It wasn't too bad, but it wasn't too good either. The guys ended up making out. Well, with their girls. Holding hands at first, then sneaked kisses, then longer kisses, then hands roaming all over.

Cindy and I both looked horrified. Me, because, well, you know. She was pissed at me for this becoming more an actual date than friends having some fun together. I was pissed at my friends for making it more than that.

During the ride to drop off the girls, Brent and Randy were all over their dates. Cindy and I talked and shook our heads at the others.

The guys were so worked up after we dropped the girls off. I was glad it was all over. As soon as we got to his house, Brent held out his hand and showed us three pills he'd gotten at the prom. He said he'd almost slipped one into his date's drink. Randy asked what it was. Molly.

I knew what it was. It was new back then. It wasn't hard to find. Even us junior high kids knew what it was and how to get it. The three of us had never done drugs. We'd had a chance to smoke pot not long before this, but we'd walked away from it. I suspected, though, that Randy had gone back and tried it. Now Brent had got some ecstasy.

I wasn't too sure at all. Randy, though, was interested. A lot. I asked him again if he'd tried pot yet.  I was pretty sure he had, and him being so willing to try this X had me curious again. This time he sort of rolled his eyes and sighed, "Yeah, okay, so I been smoking some weed with Kerry and the guys. Not really any of your business."

I remember saying, "I thought so!" almost too loudly.

Brent's house was huge, and his room was several rooms down a long hallway from his folk's bedroom behind those big double doors. We could be pretty noisy and his folks wouldn't even hear us. But my loud shout of revelation was nearly too loud even for Brent's.

"Since when?" Brent asked, clearly shocked.

"A couple weeks," he said, turning red.

He blushed pretty easily and quite often, and very vividly. He had no hopes whatsoever of being able to deny his blushes.

So we got him to admit to it and tell us some about what it was like as we removed ties and opened shirts and kicked off dress shoes.

Randy said the pills were the weaker ones, not the stronger ones. He said he learned that from hanging out with Kerry and his friends. And he said he had his own surprise for us. He pulled out a joint and held it up.

We'd turned and walked away from Kerry and his pot-head friends a couple weeks prior. Now I knew Randy was spending time with Kerry and his doper friends when he wasn't around Brant and me. I wasn't real surprised he had a joint on him. I was still a bit shocked Brent had those Mollys.

"Fuck it," Brent said happily. "I'll go get some beers from dad's stash and we can make a wild night of it!"

My first thought was, uh-oh. I wanted to go home. But I didn't.

Brent came back with three bottles of beer, handed each of us a pill, and Randy lit the joint.

I almost palmed the pill, but decided to just go for it. I swallowed it with a big pull off the beer. Not my first beer, but the first for months, and I'd never drank more than that one.

We watched the last half of the old monster movie on Elvira's show on the UHF channel and talked about the big night. We were sitting on his bed, leaning back against our rolled-up sleeping bags propped against the headboard. I was in the middle.

The guys were so worked up still. They clearly hadn't noticed that I hadn't kissed Cindy once all night. Obviously they had been so into what they were doing they didn't notice Cindy and I weren't. So I went along with the conversation.

Man, they'd gotten to second base! They'd both gotten feels of boobs, grabbed butt, felt the warmth between their dates' legs, and they'd both gotten groped down there themselves. No skin-to-skin, just through clothes. But that was quite a lot!

They were actually holding their dicks. I knew they were boned, and horny as fuck. I was pissed. So pissed that it didn't matter to me that they had boners right there and then. I was also having the first real debate inside about being gay. I knew it mostly for sure. But I was still debating it, and now it was almost certain. I'd gone out with a girl, and I didn't like it. I hadn't gotten horny. I was the opposite of horny.

Man, were they stoked! The pot and beer and Molly didn't help any. By the time the late movie was over, we had drank two full beers each, were stoned, and the molly had us mellow and turned on. Watching Elvira say goodnight kept the topic on the girls and sex.

I was sort of turned on, but not really. I wasn't hard at all. But I sure was all kind of turned on. I loved how it felt to make little circles inside my elbow or slowly run my hand over my stomach.

A 'girls on the beach' movie started next, so we watched it. It really was just girls on the beach. The whole thing. Or them at night in their shared apartment talking about boys on the beach. I couldn't tell you the name if you told it to me. Or who was in it. But it had girls on the beach, so...

Of course, it kept the guys hyped and turned on. I was sort of interested, and I watched it as much as Brent and Randy did, but I was more interested in the guys on the beach. And I knew it.

I knew it.

I remember almost breaking down in tears at the final realization that I was a fag. I had gone out with a girl, a pretty cute girl, and I just wasn't interested in her. Or any other girl.

But boys turned me on so much.

It was almost horrible, sitting there, between Brent and Randy, watching a normal sexy movie, and I was watching for the guys instead of the girls.

I managed to keep it inside, but it was so hard to do.

We had another joint during the movie. And another beer. I tried not to think so much about me being gay, but it was impossible.

The guys were going all hormone-y. The girls were hot, sure, so no surprise the guys were still so worked up.

I noticed that they were actually using their hands in their laps, moving and squeezing and tugging.

That got me hard. And I felt guilty about that, so I felt worse. The shortest boner in history.

By the time the movie ended, I was in tears. Silent ones, but the guys noticed.

Randy asked me what was wrong. What could I tell him? I just shrugged and tried to play it off. But I wasn't fooling him. Or Brent.

I knew now. And now that I knew, it was a deep, dark secret. I didn't want that.

The UHF station was signing off and showing that long video of cities and farms and rivers and mountains as the National Anthem played. I watched the flickering shadows play across my legs through the flowing tears.

Brent punched my shoulder, then asked, "What's wrong?"

I couldn't hold it in.

"I'm gay."

I remember the silence, except for the National Anthem.

"Are you fucking around with us?" Randy asked.

I was able to look at him, hold his gaze, shake my head, and say, "No, I'm serious. I'm a fag, dude."

I cried so hard. My face felt hot, I couldn't control my breathing, and I shook all over.

I don't know who was first, but the other was right behind him, so the delay didn't matter. I was hugged hard by both of them for the entire time I cried like a baby.

When I was done, finally, the video was done, the sign-off announcement was over, they had showed the logo for a few minutes, and then gone off the air - and static filled the room.

"You guys can let go of me now," I mumbled, then sniffled.

"You sure?" Randy asked, looking like he wasn't far from crying too.

"Yeah," I croaked.

He and Brent let go and sat up.

It seemed like the right thing to say, so I did.

"Thanks, guys."

"You really and actually don't like girls?" Brent asked.

"Yeah, I really don't." I said, meeting his eyes. "I see why you guys do, sure. But I, just..."

I couldn't tell him what.

"You'd rather fuck a guy's gross, hairy ass than a nice clean pussy?" he asked next, almost laughing.

I laughed a little, then said, "Who say's the guy's ass has to be hairy and gross?"

We all laughed a little.

Then I added, "And who says every pussy is nice and clean? There's a reason there's so many jokes about cats sniffing womens' snatches."

We had a laugh. I was feeling so much better. It was pretty cool that Brent hadn't told me to leave and not to talk to him again, and that Randy wasn't shouting at me along with him.

"Hey, Brent, he might be the type that likes to be the girl," Randy joked. "Maybe he likes taking it up the ass instead of giving it up the ass."

"How would I know?" I said, laughing a little with the guys. "Not like I got any more action than you guys."

We commiserated about still being virgins, then bragged about touching boobs and getting groped. I told them Cindy and I didn't get as busy as they had, but they hadn't noticed. I could have said I'd done as much as them and they wouldn't have doubted it. I was asked about what I was thinking and how it felt and all, being out with a girl when I didn't like girls.

It was hard to talk about, but I was able to. My best buds seemed to understand. At least a bit. They agreed there wouldn't be another three-way date, but they wanted to go out with the girls again. And they were looking forward to getting more than a boob-grope and their dicks felt through their pants.

"I thought I might blow a wad a couple times," Brent said once again.

"Tell me about it," Randy agreed. "Dude, I bet I have to throw out this underwear."

We had a good laugh. Randy's jokes often made times better.

"Yeah, I'm sorta dyin' to get out of this pair," Brent said, then got up off the bed.

He took his dress shirt off, hung it on a hanger and then on the closet door knob. Then he started opening his dress slacks. He stopped and looked at me. I was looking, so I kept looking. He grinned, I grinned. Then he dropped the slacks. I watched him take his legs out of them, then fold them, and then hang them on a hanger, and then hang them on the closet door knob with the shirt. Then he stood there and looked at me, in just his white t-shirt, black socks, and tighty-whities, grinning.

"Like what you see?" he asked.

He was more than a little hard. It was making a pointed tent in the front of his underwear. It wasn't totally hard, or it was really small. I was sure I could see the shadow of his pubes through the white material of his briefs. I could see his balls were nicely hanging down and cupped by those briefs.

The rest of his body was impressive. He was in really good shape. He used his dad's weights several times every week. His shoulders and pecs and abs were firm and toned and visible behind the t-shirt, which was tucked into the briefs. His hips were slim but not narrow. HIs legs were nicely firm and built too.

He stood there a moment, then did the muscle-builder thing. I laughed.

"Yeah, yeah, you know you're hot," I said, still laughing.

"What about me?" Randy asked, grinning and trying to do the muscle-builder thing.

I laughed, then said, "You're hot in a different way."

He looked surprised for a second, then sort of shocked. Then he asked, "What?"

"You're hot in that dorky way," I told him.

"You really think so?" he asked, grinning a bit more.

"Kathy sure thought so. She was all over you tonight."

He agreed, grinned, then said, "And now she's felt the trouser monster, she's dying for more!"

He grabbed his crotch and held it. Since we'd gotten back from the date, they'd grabbed their stuff more than all the times before.

I looked at Brent, who now had his t-shirt and socks off. He was more naked than I'd ever seen him before. And it was a striking sight. I got my 'boner' back, and then I got a boner. That's how it felt. My sex drive had been turned off since the moment we'd picked up the chicks. Now it was back to turned on. It revved.

He still had a mostly-boned boner. He was standing next to the bed now, so he was close, and it was obvious that thing wanted to spring free. I could even tell the knob was squished up against the material.

I remembered what he'd said, so I said, "I thought you wanted to get out of those," and nodded toward the underwear.

"I do," he said with his grin that meant he was having a big idea. Then, as expected, he announced it. "I have an idea."

Randy and I both went, "Oh?" in perfect timing.

That wasn't anything new. We'd all gotten good at it with many common exchanges.

He glanced at the door, said, "I'll be right back," and dashed to it. What a view in that flickering light from the snow on the television. He opened the door a bit, glanced out for a moment, then closed and locked his door. It hadn't been locked until then the entire night. It was rare to bother to lock it anyway. He hop-stepped back to the bed and sat down in his spot next to me, looked at both of us, and said, "Ever think about jacking each other off?"

I think I gasped louder than Randy, but I can't guarantee it. He and I did look at each other for a moment. Shocked. For very obviously different reasons.

I was worried he had somehow read my mind. Or my dreams. Or my deepest desires.

I don't know why Randy was so shocked. Not for sure. I can only suppose.

"No, I'm serious," Brent went on. "I don't mean, like, just because. But, you know, just to do it. I mean, we're all gonna do it, after tonight. Right?"

 He waited, so we both nodded, blushing. It was embarrassing but true.

"I know I'm gonna. I'm gonna go in that shower and beat it off like mad. Then maybe you guys take your turn. Or you go, 'take a walk' or something. But we're gonna tonight. So, like, why not just get it over with, and do it to each other. Which has gotta be at least a bit better than doing it alone."

He had a great point. A very compelling argument. I was a convert right away.

What a great idea!

I looked at Randy, all grin, and waited. He grinned back. I shrugged. He shrugged and grinned a bit wider. We looked at Brent.

He said, "Get your clothes off."

Randy and I got busy. We took off our dress shirts, t-shirts, and then slacks. That was when I started looking at him more than what I was doing. I watched him as he stood up at the side of the bed and pushed his slacks all the way down. I lifted my legs and slid my slacks off. He straightened up. Yeah. TIghty-whities, too, of course. His dick was hard, and it was huge. It stuck up at an angle from the base right up to the waistband of his briefs, pressed tightly against him. His balls hung enough to fill the lower part of his briefs, but that cock dominated the view.

The rest of him wasn't bad at all. He was lean and trim, with no fat or softness. You could see his ribs, and his hips, and his elbows and knees looked wide and bulby. He had big feet and hands, and genitals. I say genitals because his dick and balls were just plain big.

He was looking at me looking. I was so embarrassed. I laughed and shrugged. He grinned a bit more, then pushed his underwear down his legs. I pulled mine off. He stood up again.

Oh, yeah. That thing was seven inches, at least. It stuck out almost horizontally, obviously strained against all that mass hanging out like that. It was really straight and tubular. Mostly smooth, with little bumps and ridges along the red scar area a good two inches behind the head.  The rest of the skin on it was pale and smooth. The head was nice and perfect, not big or small for that shaft. Slightly curved corona. Slitted hole it the tip. Base of dark-blond pubes. Nice big balls hanging down nice and low in a slightly darker-skinned sack.

God, did I get hard!

He sat down on the bed, cross-legged, then leaned back against his sleeping bag roll. He grabbed that long dick and swayed it back and forth.

"Not bad, huh?" he asked.

I looked away from his dick long enough to nod at his face and give him a grin, then I looked right back. I was impressed. And thinking about how I was going to get to jerk that thing off. Wow!

I got all shaky and nervous.

"That's gonna be a big job," Brent joked.

I looked at him, and realized he'd gotten his underwear off too. He was more solid and curvy than nearly-bony Randy. His chest and abs were developing and obvious. His arms looked a bit built. He still had a layer of soft along his sides. His thighs were on the edge of becoming buff.

But what really got my attention was small compared to Randy. It was smaller than mine. It sort of looked like a small banana. It was mostly smooth and curved and even. The base had a very small patch of pubes around it. It was maybe four inches. Maybe a bit more? The head was really pointy, angular and conical. The hole in the tip was almost so small I wondered how he peed out of it. His balls were nice, about like mine, smaller than Randy's. HIs sack let them hang nicely too.

"Yours isn't small either," Brent said, and then actually reached out and grabbed it.

Brent was holding my dick!

Randy grabbed my balls, and said, "Almost as big as mine," and then started just playing with them.

I finally came out of my shock coma, and grabbed a dick with both hands.

Oh, yeah, Brent's hand felt good on my dick! Way better than doing it myself. I hoped I was going to do it as good to them. By luck or providence, I was pretty good with both hands doing most things. This included.

Randy's felt like a meat slab. Solid and heavy and thick. Stroking along its length was awesome. It felt so huge!

Brent's dick was so hard it was amazing. It felt like a small steel rod.

Brent was stroking my dick like a paid pro as far as I could tell. He didn't grab it tight and move the skin on it up and down. He used his fist like a tube and slid it up and down over my entire dick. It sent powerful thrills through my head. I loved it. It was making me so hard it nearly hurt. I was gasping with nearly every breath as his warm, soft hand rubbed along my shaft and head.

I tried it with both their dicks. It was easier with Brent's small one than trying to keep a grip on his skin with a single finger and thumb. He liked it much more too, because he started hissing in through his teeth. Randy liked it too, gasping a bit at first, grinning wider, and playing with my balls even more.

This was more than amazing! While Brent stroked me so nicely, I softly stroked his small, very hard dick, which didn't even fill my fist, and I softly stroked Randy's massive, meaty dick that was twice as long as my fist.

After what seemed just a couple of minutes, Brent gasped, then hissed, "I'm gonna cum!" He held my hand still, and then I felt his dick twitch in my fist. He grunted, and then it twitched again, and some warm cum oozed out of the tiny hole and around the head. Then it twitched again, and this time a spray shot out of his dick and landed in beads strung from my fist to his navel. It must have been two dozen droplets from that one squirt. The next one was a smaller spray of maybe a dozen beads that landed to mix with the others. Then another twitch of his dick and another squirt that mostly got all over his head and my fist. It was so awesome to have another guy's cum on my hand! Warm and wet and gooey and spreading.

His dick twitched a few more times, but nothing much came out. What little did got collected in the well made by my fist around the end of his dick. God how I wanted to lean down and lick all that up.

He got some tissues from the drawer in the table by the bed, and removed my hand to clean up. What a waste, I thought.

Then I felt Randy stroking me off, and resumed stroking him off. I watched what I was doing to Randy's huge dick, and what his hand was doing to me.

This was so awesome! It felt so good. It was so wild!

Brent put a couple tissues in my cummy hand. I didn't do much with it. I was busy elsewise.

A drop of pre-jizz formed in that slit, and almost instantly rolled down anf got caught up in my fist. It felt awesome! Slippery warmth spread between his head and my fingers. He groaned and laughed.

It was such a turn-on that I leaked a goober too. Randy spread it around my head with his fingers. Oh, yeah, felt so good!

That churning began. I warned Randy.

"I'm gonna shoot!"

He rubbed my dick faster and tighter, and I got closer and closer. It was stronger and stronger. Better than what I got from doing it myself.

I let go with a grunted, "Oh!" and a shove of my hips. It felt like I was blasting a gusher. I saw a string of cum shoot out of my dick and fly up above my head. It twirled and twisted, and fell to splash across my chest. Good one!

The next one shot out and made it above my navel. The third made it as high as a couple inches above my dick and Randy's hand, then fell onto his fingers. That made me shoot a fourth one that went up even higher than the first, though it wasn't nearly as much. It landed on my shoulder and upper arm. I laughed. The rest were oozers and ended up coating my dick and Randy's hand pretty well.

He pulled his hand away, and I used that tissue on my dick while still jerking off Randy's massive dick. Brent handed Randy a few tissues. He let go of my balls and wiped his hand.

I kept stroking that big dick, watching every stroke. I wondered how long he was going to last. Another drop of pre-jizz came out. I could smell it. I wanted to taste it. Randy hissed and sucked in a breath. He grinned.

As his pre-jizz dried up, he groaned, "My turn to splooge."

I felt his dick swell up several times, stronger every time. I was wondering why he didn't shoot anything. Then his dick actually flexed from root to tip, and then it shot out this goober of jizz that shocked me. It was at least as much as I had cum all put together. It shot up to the height of our heads, at least, into the air, twirled and twisted, and splashed down across his chest. By then his big dick had flexed again, and another thick stringy jiz wad was twirling in the air. It landed on his belly. The third and fourth and fifth were all much smaller and went less distance but they were still very nice. He made a bigger mess than I did if I did it three or four times.

"Dude," Brent sighed. "That's enough jizz to make a hundred women preggo!"

"I do cum a lot, don't I?" he said with a kind of laugh.

I had my hand back, and more tissue from Brent. I could smell all the cum. I hated wiping it off my hands instead of licking it up, and then licking it off their softening cocks.

I noticed my dick wasn't going soft as quickly as usual. It was kind of hesitating. I was still kind of turned on. They were both still mostly hard too. I saw their faces, and wondered if they were thinking the same thing. They were still cleaning their dicks. Sort of.

"Wanna do it again?" I asked, almost jokingly.

This time Randy jacked me off while Brent played with my balls. We came in the same order, at about the same timing, but far less. Brent barely squirted enough to say he really came. I squirted enough to alleviate any doubts. Randy shot about what I usually shot and just a bit more.

We even did it again about an hour later, after another joint and some rounds of Asteroids.

The next morning it was like it never happened. Neither of them wanted to even talk about it. But they sure remembered I was gay. They even teased me a bit about it.

Things were a bit weird between us for a while. Maybe a month after that night, Randy was staying over at my place. Brent had family over for a wedding or something and had to stay home.

Randy asked me if I was sure I was gay. I was. He asked if I had liked what we'd done last month. I told him I had, and I added that I wished we could do it again.

He asked me if I was gay enough that I thought about sucking dick. I told him I was. He asked if I thought sucking his. I told him I'd thought about it a lot, especially since what we'd done a month ago over at Brent's.

He asked if I would give him a blow-job and keep it secret. I asked him if he could keep it secret. We agreed to keep it secret.

And I got to suck my first dick. Seven inches of heaven. I fucking loved sucking his cock. It felt so good to do it! It felt awesome! Even though I still had my pants on, and I knew he wasn't going to even jerk me off, it still felt awesome to suck his dick.

His first words were, "Oh, yeah, that feels soooo good!"

That head was so soft and velvety and warm. The taste of his pre-jizz straight from the source was like manna. I loved making him moan. When I used my tongue on his head and its edges, he'd groan and squirm and hiss and make me stop doing it.

"It just feels way to good," he complained.

So I sucked and bobbed and only tongued his head from time to time.  He groaned softly and moved his hips a bit sometimes, and told me how good it felt many times.

"Hey, Tay?" he asked at one point.

"Hmmm?" I hummed around his long cock.

"You wanna swallow? Or not? Cause I'm gettin' close."

 I didn't answer, I just kept sucking and softly licking.

He grunted, "I'm serious. I'm gonna blast a huge wad, dude!"

He put a hand on the back of my head and followed my movements. He thrust his hips a bit more.

"Oh, shit, it's gonna be a lot!" he grunted, almost under his breath. "Fuck! Dude! I'm fucking' cummm..."

I felt his dick bend and flex in my mouth, once, twice, and then the hot cum exploded out of it. My mouth was full instantly, and it was squirting out around my lips before I could even try to swallow it. I was just getting the first mouthful down when he filled my mouth again. I tried to move it to the back of my mouth and swallow it, but I had too much of his dick in my mouth as well. More hot jizz fired into my mouth. I was forced to let go of his dick and let his cum fall out of my mouth before I choked on it. The next squirt hit me square in the face. Left eye and cheek. Another squrt and I got it all over my lips and chin. I licked it up as he shot another goober. I tugged and pulled his dick as he finished firing his wad. My hand and his dick were coated with his warm, thick, slippery jizz. I had it on my face, too. What I hadn't licked off anyway.

"Oh, man!" he sighed with a huge smile. "That was the shit!"

"Felt good?" I asked, feeling silly now, with his jizz on my face.

"Best thing ever!" he said happily.

He handed me some tissues. I wiped my face and hand. That heavy cum flavor filled my mouth and nose. I wish I had done it better.I just loved doing it. I was sad it was over. I wanted to keep sucking on it, and I kept eyeing it as it softened and flopped against his thigh, all shiny and wet and pink and red and... wow.

"Want a hand-job?" he asked.

"I'd like a blow-job," I said quickly and with a big grin, breaking my eye-lock with his cock.

"I bet!" he said, grinning.

So he leaned over and put my dick into his mouth. It felt great, and second after second it felt better and better. In moments, I was shaking all over from the intense pleasure of my first blow-job. Oh, God, it felt fucking incredible! His mouth was so warm and soft, and the suction was absolutely enjoyable.

God, it was good! I waited as long as I could, until I was on the edge of shooting, then told him and pushed his head away. I blasted a nice wad that time! Almost as much as the hand-job earlier. It felt like a lot more, though.

 I no longer had any doubts I was gay.

Randy and I ended up giving blow-jobs to each other almost every chance we got for a long time. He sometimes asked to give me a hand-job instead. I started smoking pot with him. It did make the sex even better. He got a serious girlfriend in eleventh grade, and after that I never got to do it with him again.

Brent never wanted to talk about it, let alone do it again. He'd been the one who'd thought of it, and who had made it happen that first time, but afterward he was absolutely against even talking about it. He didn't like that I was smoking pot with Randy. He expected me to start hanging with the dope-heads any time. We drifted apart during that first year of high school, and hardly interacted the next three.

It was late into my first year of college and being nineteen before I was intimate with anyone again.




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