Michaels Sexual Awakenings (chapter 3 of 7) b/b

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Subject: Michaels Sexual Awakenings (chapter 3 of 7) b/b
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Michaels Sexual Awakenings (chapter 3 of 7) b/b
Author: 'M' (Michael W ) Chapter 3 By the time my fourteenth birthday came along, I was pre-occupied with sex.
After being "awakened" by those girls in the tent (see chapter 1), having
experienced my first group jerk-off, and that time I was humiliated by my
friend's older sister (see chapter 2) I was absorbed in it. All day long
it seemed I was getting hard with every change of the wind. And the
thoughts ... Man, I was, well, horny. I began looking at girls in a way I
hadn't before. I imagined them with their clothes off and wondered how many
of them knew about my two escapades at the hands of those kinky girls. At
night I would masturbate, re-living those times and embellishing them. New
girls would take their place, and new adventures. I was also becoming aware of something else. That group jerk-off at Larry's
was more thrilling than I would ever admit to anyone else. Seeing those
other boys hard for the first time was arousing in itself. I was left to
wonder ... was I the only boy in the group who was getting turned on
watching the others "do it". It was a silly game of "dare" at the time but
were the others secretly "into it" the way I was. And I was aware of
strange "feelings" towards other classmates as well. Like John for
instance. He was my age, in a few of my classes, and played on the eighth
grade soccer team with me. He had dirty-blondish hair, a smooth "swimmers"
build, and there was something about the way he filled his shorts. He
always wore tight shorts that accented his tush, and I would find myself
glancing his way all the time. I wanted to feel that butt of his, and see
his penis hard. I would time my trip to the showers after practice so I
could see him naked, and when he toweled himself off ... I imagined it was
my hands. These thoughts scared me. I wasn't gay, was I? I couldn't be. I
loved to look at the Playboys and naked girls, and they aroused me, but ...
so did this. This was a confusing time in my life, and in my adult years I
would learn about bisexuality - that there were those attracted to both
sexes. As an adult I would eventually choose the path of heterosexuality,
and have stayed on that course (although quite a kinky hetero path it
would be), but in these middle teen years I would explore these new
feelings. Oh, but getting back to John. Those adult stories come in later chapters. I
wanted so badly to get close to John. My first schoolboy crush. But John
was best friends with Jim. And Jim was everything I wasn't. While I was
shy, Jim was outgoing, a natural leader type. I was an okay athlete, Jim
was the best (captain of the soccer team). Jim and John did everything
together, they had been best friends since the first grade, as the story
went. While I had gone through the public school system, they had been in
Catholic schools together until the eighth grade, when their parents
enrolled them into the public junior high (grades 7-9). How I envied Jim's
close relationship with John. Other boys would kid around sometimes that
Jim and John were "Too close", and I snickered with the rest, but jealousy
was the emotion of the day. Throughout that school year I tried to hang around with their crowd and got
to know most of their friends. There was about six of us that would play
field hockey after school, in a lot back behind Jim's house. Jim and John
were always on the same team and sometimes I would get to be on their team,
sometimes not. The summer after eighth grade represented my "break". Jim's parents decided
to send Jim away somewhere for the entire summer. I got to know John real
well that summer. We would meet in the afternoon at the park programs and
hang out together. I would be around him all day, longing to .. well ... be
closer. It was hell and heaven at the same time. We would talk about many things but as the summer wore on I would gradually
bring up sex in the conversation. And I wasn't at all disappointed. John
liked the subject as much as me. Sometimes we would get together in a
treehouse he had in his back yard and look at his stack of Playboys. I
would get hard of course and so would he. I would take quick looks at his
crotch and see the bulge, and make no attempt to hide mine. We would brag
about the things we would do with those girls if we had them but we both
knew the other had no girlfriend. Actually, in those days, 14 year olds
generally still were not hanging around or "messing" with girls, but my
entire generation grew up fantasizing with Playboys. I never told him of my
previous escapades, at the hands of those girls, nor would I dare tell him
I was jerking off. More and more days would finds us up there, studying the pictures, reading
the stories and getting aroused, without progressing any farther. I
desperately wanted it to go farther, but apart from being shy I couldn't
bring myself to take the first step. Alas, John was the one who broke the
ice. It was one very hot afternoon in the treehouse. We were in shorts only,
having dispensed with shirts, socks, and shoes due to extreme heat and
humidity. By this time we had both become accustomed to sporting our
hard-ons to each other, without either of us ever acknowledging it. John
was looking at my crotch, no, he was staring at my crotch. We were both
slippery with sweat, his hairless chest gleaming from the perspiration. "Do you ever beat off?" he asked sheepishly, his 14 year old voice
cracking. "No", I lied, after thinking for a moment how to respond. "Do you?". "No", he said quickly, disappointment on his face, "I was just wondering,
that's all." He was lying too. Fuck. I had blown it. This was my chance. I should have seized the moment.
Now I would have to try an recover. With a burst of sudden boldness (for
me, anyway) I expelled, " I wonder what it feels like." John breathed in a slow breath. "I heard it feels real good. You know,
almost like fucking." "Maybe" I admitted. There was an excruciating pause. And John again broke the ice. "You wanna
try it?". His face was flushed. I think both of us could feel our pulses
rushing. "You know, together. At the same time", he went on. "I will if you
will" he encouraged. "Well...", I began with a slight hesitation, "what if we get caught?". "Hell, no one can get up here. We've already pulled up the ladder. We can
be real quiet. Besides", he said, his voice deepening, "we are both hard
already aren't we?". Ah, finally acknowledged. And just what I had wanted for some time. Come on
Michael, get your courage up, take the plunge. DO IT a voice inside me was
shouting! "Okay, if you promise not to tell anyone". The die was cast. John was already rubbing the front of his shorts, and I began as well.
Silently we both tugged at the top of our shorts, each of us trying to let
the other go first and knowing the other was doing the same. "Okay. Let's both pull our shorts off at the same time, okay?" John
commanded, "OKAY?", he said again waking me from my trance. "Okay". "ON three then. One .. two .. three", and we both slowly pulled down our
shorts, mirroring each other moves, both of us with our eyes riveted on the
other's underpants. I could almost see his beautiful penis move inside his
underwear. By the bulge it was about the same as mine. "Now the rest", John
was anxious to get to it. "One ... two ... three", and down cames the
underpants, down to our ankles in a heap with the shorts. John lifted his
leg and kicked them off. I slid my off my ankles and set them aside. My penis stood at attention, as did his. Pointing to my navel. We were both
circumsized, as was the custom of that era. Already, a drop of pre-cum was
forming at the tip of mine. John started to "pull" on his and I slowly
grasped mine. We were silent, except for the breathing, which got heavier
for both of us. "I'm getting close", John whispered. "Me too". It was true. I was almost there. I was halfway holding back, to
let him go first, but in another moment I would be out of control. "Argh" he gurgled as his ejaculation came first. His penis seemed to
shudder as gobs and gobs of goo spurted all over his chest, almost to his
neck. I soon followed, gasping as well, matching him spurt for spurt. It
was glorious, it was everything I had dreamt it would be. It was ... messy.
John lay back, almost aglow. "Man, that was cool" he crowed. My breath was slowly coming back. "Yeah, neat". Both of us slowly pulled gently, as our erections subsided. "Let's clean up" John finally said and he produced some paper towels from a
corner. We dabbed, and so forth, giggling as we watched the tissue stick to
our members, and tear, and compound the cleanup job. Eventully the job was
done and our clothes back on. With the ice finally broken, we would repeat this ritual for the next
couple weeks, never venturing further than we had gone, although we would
progress to silly games of "who could cum first", or "who could shoot the
farthest". Two lads growing up together. We would eventually go the next step. It happened at his initiation of
course. That's was the way it would always be. It was one of the last
weekends before going back to school for the start of the ninth grade. I
was sleeping over at his house for the first time. John had his own room in
the basement, and after a rousing night of horror movies, popcorn, board
games and general tom-foolery we were at last behind the closed door of his
bedroom and preparing for bed. We both stripped naked to put on our
pajamas. Though not hard, the "tent" in his trousers was intriguing, and
I uppose mine was as well. Neither of us brought up the subject of "beating
off", perhaps intimidated by the other family members in the house, even
though behind a closed (but not locked) door. Though I had brought a
sleeping bag along, John invited me to share his bed (which wasn't large),
I of course accepted after putting up token resistance. We talked into the wee hours of the night, mostly about sex as usual,
wondering about what it would be like to do this, and would you do that,
and so forth. Eventually John nodded off to sleep. I lay there awake for sometime. Lying still, listening to his breathing ..
Hard as a rock. At times I could fell his body brush mine and for the first
time I could feel his cute little boyish butt against mine. As I lay still I could feel him rustling. I though for a moment he might be
playing with himself. "Mike," he whispered, "are you awake?". I lay quiet although I don't know why. I was wondering if he would continue
to play with himself, as it would turn me on to lay quietly and listen to
him. He prodded me gently as I ignored him again. Satisfied he went back to what
he was doing. Though my eye were closed I could tell now in fact that he
was stroking himself. But he stopped, without the customary gasping. Then he rolled over towards
me. I could feel him begin to press up against me. His chest on my back,
his crotch against my buttocks ... his penis against my crack. As I lay on
my left side he lay there, not moving, his manhood separated from me only
by two sets of thin pajama bottoms. I was excited, but decided to play out this game with a wait-and-see
attitude. My own member was at full staff, crowding the material of my
pajamas, my heart racing. I almost jumped, but didn't when I felt John's hand on my leg. It drifted
up to my thighs and came to rest just inside my leg, and just below my
groin. I could hear him breathing faster as his hand went exploring
further, slowly getting braver. It was now lightly resting between both my
thighs. "Mike" he whispered again, somewhat apprehensively, and with that certain
aroused tone. I didn't answer. This was getting better all the time. How
far would he go? If I "woke" up now would he panic or lose his nerve. No,
don't take the chance, enjoy it while you got it, Mike. The hand was again creeping. It was on the front of my pajamas. He gasped
almost inaudibly when he felt my throbbing member. We had jerked off
together for some time now but this was the first time one of us had been
so emboldened as to touch the other, although it be through pajamas. I knew
it wouldn't end here and it didn't. The hand gently felt my hardness
through the pj's, a tug here, a pull there, savoring the moment. His own
manhood pressed tighter against me. He pulled off momentarily and I could
feel his free hand free his cock from his own bottoms and once again lay it
to rest in my crevice. Again his other hand when to work on my pj clad
penis. As his hand stoked me, he got bolder still, unsnapping the button
and reaching inside the fly portion. It was skin on skin now as his hand,
tantalized me, working the bottom, the then the head, inside my pajamas.
His own member was now moving against the fabric behind me, his breathing
became deep. I was attempting to hold my own breath, what was left of it,
becoming more and more aroused. I could feel a little bit of pre-cum
moisten his fingers, exciting him further. In back, my pj's felt moist,
both from the sweat of his body and his own pre-jism. The game continued, him altering his attentions between his hand on my dick
and his own pending orgasm. I came first, filling the front of my pajamas
with my boy-juice his hand twitching out every last drop. I tried to hold
it in but I was obviously panting. When at last the orgasm subsided he lay
still against me, myself still pretending to be asleep. "Are you awake" he asked gently again, testing me. Still I did not answer.
Reassured he began in earnest again on my backside, and I could feel his
breath on my neck. Even the hair on his head was wet now and everywhere we
touched was moistness. His pace quickened and with a grunt he exploded,
sending burst after burst against me, drenching my pajama bottoms in the
back with hot sticky cum. As we lay there, me dripping in cum, him resting
against me our bodies slowly relaxed. My own member, having cum only
moments before was not again at half mast, with his hand around it again,
gingerly squeezing it, the experienced hand knows when a prick is super
sensitive. Still he pressed against me from behind although his own hips
were still. "Did that feel good?" he whispered. I ignored him. His hand squeezed me
more roughly between my legs. "Come on. I know you're awake. Did that feel
good?" he persisted. Okay. Reality check. What were my options. Did he know, or just suspect? "Ouch" I heard myself say as he squeezed harder. He giggled lightly. "I knew you were awake. Why were you pretending?" he
queried with amusement. The jig was up but I didn't know what to say. There I lay in soggy pajamas,
front and back, cum now dripping down my legs, in all my glory . and
speechless. "Say something. Are you mad? Don't you want to clean up or something?" he
continued after a while. I wasn't mad, in fact I was hard as a rock again, and actually that squishy
feeling was kind of neat but I didn't want to say that. "No, I'm not mad. You got a towel" I spoke. "Yeah, just a minute", he slid out of bed and retrieved a small towel from
a nearby chest of drawers. As he handed it to me he pulled back the sheets
and shined a flashlight on me. "God, you're soaked!" he exclaimed. "Why'd
you let me come all over you. Why were you faking it?" I must have been red as a beet as I lay there, spotlight on my privates,
toweling myself. I got out of bed, removed my bottoms and put back on my
underpants, my erection prominently displayed. "I don't know" was all I said. "Gee, you're still hard. You're really turned on aren't you?" "I don't know", I didn't want to admit it. "What did it feel like when I was rubbing against you?" he wanted to know.
His own penis was now rising again as he stood by the bed. "I don't know. It was okay". It was GREAT! "If you want, you can do it to me", he went on. "Do what?" "You know. Rub it against me. Like I did too you. Only I don't want you to
cum in my pjs." He was stroking himself, and was now at full mast, a little red perhaps,
but ready. Myself, well I always wanted to feel that sweet little ass of
his and here was my chance. "What if somebody comes downstairs?" I played
hard to get. "SHIT man. It's 3 a.m. everybody's sleeping UPSTAIRS" he said
incredulously. "Do you want to do it or don't you?", has asked with a last
chance kinds of voice, and he added, "God, I think I'm gonna cum again", as
he stroked himself. "Okay. Yeah. How do we do it." He took off the top of his pj's, and naked, slipped in beside me. Rolling
over of his stomach he aid over his shoulder, "Get on top of me." He handed me the flashlight and I turned it on him. There he lay on his
belly, legs spread-eagled, boths arms under his body, in his crotch, his
ass a little raised by the hands underneath, inviting me. His little anus
shining under the light as if to say "fuck me". I was not so brave that night as to try penetration. Neither was he. But
removing my underwear, I lay over him, my penis pressed against the crack
of his but the way he had done and began rhythmically rock my hardness
there. Clumsily he stroked himself underneath, pushing himself up against
me to enable him to stroke underneath. I imagined the real thing my dick
sliding into his glory hole, my breath again becoming short. "Oh man, I'm
getting close", I whispered. "Me too" he replied. Encouraged I sped up the
pace and could feel that all too familiar feeling in my soul. "Here it
comes!" I announced and moments later I squirted my second orgasm of the
night. I kept pumping, feeling my wetness shower his bottom, panting like a
dog in heat, my eyes becoming glassy. His hands had stopped when I erupted,
presumably to maximize his own enjoyment of my orgasm. We lay still, my body fluids, dripping down the crack. My body felt like
jello after the most intense orgasm I had ever felt. "Mike?" John asked quietly. "Yeah?" "Now will you do me?" I paused to reflect. "You don't have to or anything, but I did you. You know, a hand job?" He had pulled out from under me and was laying on his back. It was now my
turn to shine the light on his prick. So hard, so inviting. "Okay", there was no more hiding my intentions. "Thanks. It won't take long" he promised. I kept the light on as I silently grasped his throbbing member. I had never
felt another penis before. The hardness excited me, and as each drop of
pre-cum appeared I felt a new rush of excitement. It didn't take along. Ten
or eleven strokes and he announced "I'm gonna CUM!" and he ejaculated into
the palm of my hand. Though the orgasm seemed intense to him, this time his
ejaculation oozed out rather than the large streams I had seen him spurt
during out jack off sessions. Still, it was exciting and I can vividly
recall that scene after 24 years as if it were just yesterday, just as I
can recall my own first ejaculation the previous summer in that tent. I wiped my hand and he wiped himself. We lay under the sheets, both on our
backs the rest of the night, in awe of what we had done I think, and
afraid, both of us of what we had done. The next morning, and next few days
neither of us acknowledged that night. A couple weeks later, Jim was back
from vacation. Jim and John were again a team and we all went back to
school. Although there would be other bi experiences as well as many sexual
escapades with girls in the next few teen years I never again did anything
with John. Throughout the ninth grade I wondered if Jim and John were doing
the things we did, and in fact began to wonder if they had before that
summer. Was I a "fill in"? Eventually I out-grew or overcame that "crush"
and life went on. Rumors would persist throughout the ninth grade that Jim
and John were gay, and they would continue to persist about Jim all through
high school, but in the 10th grade John started dating a very pretty girl
that he continued to date all through high school. I saw John last at the
ten year high school re-union, he had married that girl and fathered eight
children (Man he liked to fuck around, that boy!). --
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