|
A gay wrestling lesson
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
WRESTLING, a romantic narrative by Larry Long
I remember standing outside the window of Gary's house, I
remember doing that often, looking into the ground-floor and
seeing him there lifting weights, stripped to his supporter,
usually, on those hot summer days in the Texas PanHandle. Gary
was my brother's friend - pretty much his best friend, and they
were both 17, three years older than I was. Gary was strong and
well built and handsome, devoted to his wrestling, his weight
lifting, and his looks. At fourteen I wasn't much on any of
those things, but my brother was, and they were inseparable
partners in their workouts.
But, sometimes Gary would be alone, working out in the
Recreation Room of his family's split/level ranch house in the
town in which I grew up, and on those days, walking by on my way
from no-place to no-place in the hot summer afternoon, I would
creep up to his window and look. His torso would be stripped and
sweating, beads of sweat turning into little streams as they ran
unhindered by any hair down his smooth chest. His chest and legs
were hair-less, as was his buttocks which I could tell because of
his preference for working out wearing only his jockstrap.
Houses were not so commonly air conditioned where we were, and
while his was, he didn't turn it on his work-outs, leaving the
windows open and letting himself work up a good sweat. My
brother had hair on some of those parts, most heavily around his
buttocks and on his legs and arms, though he did have some on his
back, too, even then, at the age of 17. But Gary didn't he was
as smooth as I was, and I was very smooth, even for 14.
He would strip in that room, also, before his workouts, and
sometimes I would be early enough to see that too. That would
excite me, though I didn't really have much experience to relate
it to, having only learned about masturbating, jacking/off,
earlier that year from my cousin, Dave. But I would arrive
sometimes and see Gary come into the room wearing his sweat-suit,
a gym suit from school, or his jeans and a t-shirt, and he would
sit on his bench press and take off his sneakers, then pull his
t-shirt off over his head, and then slowly untie his drawstring
gym pants and slip them down over his buttocks, thighs, and
legs, pulling them off each foot at a time, since they had
elastic around the ankles. He did it what I would now consider
to be sensuously, although then I didn't know that, just knew
that it got me excited to see it.
The sensuousness of the way he undressed stopped with the
jockstrap. Gary was tremendously hung and big of balls, and the
bulge in his jock was large. Since he was always kind of
soft/hard, (he had that kind of dick), the jock always looked
very full. He seemed to like the feeling of his bare butt hugged
by the straps, he would adjust them a lot, pulling the jock
around, fitting his dick and balls in a number of different
positions, and then adjusting the ass/straps, then starting all
over again.
He would do much of this adjusting and fiddling with his
parts sitting on his bench, rubbing his bare butt up against the
cool surface of the wood. It was an old bench, not vinyl covered
like the new ones, but polished smooth by years of his body
rubbing against it, and I supposed of his older brother's before
him and maybe his father's too. After that, he would straddle
the bench, his legs on either side, and slide around a little,
getting his position on the bench. That would open up his ass a
little, so that his lower crotch and groin would be pressed up
against the bench. This must have gotten him a little excited,
because his jock would always swell a little in the pouch at this
point, and I tried never to miss that moment, right before he
would lie down on his back and begin to press the weights.
Gary was the wrestling team captain of the local high
school, and was a hero to all of us boys, especially jr. high
schoolers who were on their way to high school. He was my
brother's best friend, which, in the neighborhood, made me a hero
by association. I wasn't particularly athletic in nature, but
was wiry and strong and wrestled around a lot with my friends, as
much for the sexual contact amongst us as for the sport. I think
we all did at that age, there was a lot of groping and grappling
and grabbing, and many more times a hand grabbed a crotch than
was necessary for a pin. And speaking of pins, it was hard to
tell, sometimes, what constituted winning, pinning someone or
being pinned, since the most common position in which to be
pinned was someone's chest grinding into your crotch. We all got
hard doing it, and no one ever stopped, so I guess we all did it
for that. There was some good natured kidding around, and some
of the guys would catcall to others, saying "Hey, Bob, that your
dick or do you have a pencil in your pocket?", or "that a pencil
in your pocket or do you love me that much?", things like that,
but everyone got hard, so nobody was so embarrassed that he
stopped.
But Gary would sometimes give me pointers and lessons. He
was, after all, my brother's best friend and would be at our
house at least as often as he hung around anywhere else, and a
lot of times he and my brother would work out together, either at
our place or his, and they would go through move, throws,
positions, etc. And, as often as I could arrange to be, I would
hang out with them and watch, bring them things they wanted, like
a soda, or a piece of pie, or a towel, and sometimes Gary would
say to me, "Hey, Glen, you want me to show you a new fall?", or
"Glen, you want me to work on that pin with you?", and I would be
there, my body up against his now sweat covered body, then,
suddenly, pinned under his greater size and weight. Being thrown
by Gary was always like that, we would wrestle around for a
couple of minutes, then, suddenly, without having any idea of how
it happened, there I would be, on my back, with his body pressing
into mine and pinned to the ground. At those time, unlike with
my friends, I would try to keep his weight off of my crotch,
because I didn't want him to know that I was hard. With other
guys my own age, it was ok, after all, we were all hard, and we
all jacked off together at some time or another, or more than
once, all us friends. But Gary was my big brother's friend, my
hero, my love. I didn't want him to start to call me queer, or
to get turned off to working out with me and in front of me, so I
tried to keep him from seeing the fact that my dick, which had
just become a full sized tool that year, was swelling.
Sometimes, I would have to ask him to get up off of me and let me
go to the bathroom, I would tell him I had to go and was going to
wet my pants. I was going to wet my pants all right, but not
with piss. I would rush off to the bathroom and whack my meat
off in about 10 seconds, wash it up and come back. I don't know
how he could have missed my hard-on pressing against my pants,
but he never said anything about it.
Sometimes Gary would come over to our house and my brother
wouldn't be there. Most of the time he would just leave, telling
me to tell Dave that he would be at someplace or another, and
that he should catch up with him, but this particular summer, the
summer of my 14th year and his summer before college, he would,
sometimes, come in when Dave wasn't there and hang around me for
a while. Maybe because our house was air conditioned, and it was
very hot that summer, or maybe because my mom, knowing that she
had two very hungry boys in the house and also all our friends,
always left the refrigerator and the kitchen pantry well stocked
with snacks, pies, ice cream, drinks, and other goodies. A
couple of very hot days he just came in and watched a little
television with me, sitting in our den in the air conditioned
comfort, and during the commercials he would wrestle around with
me a bit, throwing his big arm over my shoulder and pressing me
into the couch. This was what he and my brother would do when
they were just "sitting around" and "hanging out", and I thought
it was great to be considered ok in this way.
Well, this summer was his last, he was on his way to college
the next year, accepted both because he was a good student and on
a scholarship for his wrestling. He was going to be going to
school in the East, to Penn State, and wouldn't be home much
after that, so he and my brother, who was going into the Navy,
were spending a lot of time together. And this was a hot summer,
very hot, and when he wasn't at our house, he was in his workroom
at home, stripped to those comfortable, familiar, and well
stretched jock straps, and working out. So, most of my mornings
were spent hanging around his house, waiting for the workout to
begin.
This particular morning was close to the end of summer, late
in August, I don't remember the exact date, but I do remember
that there wasn't much time before both Gary and Dave left, maybe
the last week or so before they went. It was hot, very hot, the
air dead, no breeze, the dust floating as if it would never come
down, not a cloud, no sign of any relief. Dave was away for a
couple of days to get everything set for his entrance to the
Navy-College program that he was entering at Oklahoma State, and
I was walking down the street in front of Gary's house, hoping
that I had timed my stroll right, and that he would be coming
down to begin his workout just about now. In the bright sunlight
it was hard to see into the house, and, since it was so hot and
bright out, Gary didn't turn the lights on in the den, so that I
had to go right up to the window to see in. I went over to the
house as quietly as I was able and began to watch from a
crouching position outside his window.
It was very bright outside, and consequently it was dim
inside by comparison. I had to get up close to the window to be
able to see in. But I was in luck. Gary was already down,
sitting with his back to me and to the open window, his t-shirt
already off and just pulling the second of his two slippers off
his foot. I watched as he started to pull down his pants,
pulling them off each leg, and then as he turned to face the
bottom of the bench, sideways to me, and began his ritual of
adjusting his massive equipment inside his jock. His chest and
legs and buns were already covered with a sheen of sweat, even
though he hadn't started his workout. It was that hot. His body
was so sweaty that it got the wood of the bench wet, and as he
lay down to begin his presses, his skin and flesh slid on it,
then made the sucking noises which happen when the skin is wet
enough to act like a suction cup against the hard wood of the
bench. I watched for a while as he began his presses. Each time
he would arch his back, his buttocks would cup against the bench
and make that slurping sound as they pulled away. As he
increased his effort, he sweated more, and he stuck more. After
his sets, he rolled over off the bench for his towel, and I
noticed that his jock was more stretched and full in front than
usual, as if his dick was harder than usual.
He took his towel and dried his arms, chest, face, and
thighs, and then rubbed between his legs and up into his sweating
crotch. Just then he looked up, and I guess I wasn't careful
enough, because he saw me standing there looking in. "Hey,
Glen," he called out to me, laughing, "what are you doing out
there? You a peeping tom or something?" I was going to blush and
run away, but I couldn't do that. I was too close to Gary, he
was my brother's best friend. "Nope, just trying to get in out
of the heat, and ... well, you know...." I finished rather
lamely.
"Come on in, you can spot for me." Gary turned back to the
bench and draped the towel around his shoulders. "After I have
done my presses, I will show you some new moves I am working on.
Bet you can even pin me with one if I show them to you." He
dried off the bench and laid the towel down on the wood, to keep
himself from sticking to it when he sweated. I guess it was
uncomfort-able for him, even though it had been very exciting for
me. I liked the sound and the look of his buns sticking to the
wood.
I just climbed into the room through the window. It was
there and open, and it was the way we did things then. Gary was
getting ready for his next set. His body was sweated up, his
muscles standing out against his tight skin. "Here, come over
here. You know how to 'spot' for me, don't you?" Gary asked me
as he started to pump himself up for his next set. "Sure," I
told him, "I've done it a lot for Dave." And I had, too. My
brother often asked me to spot for him when he was lifting
weights, and a couple of times I had saved him from hurting
himself when he went beyond his limits. I went over by the head
of the bench and put my hands on the barbell and helped Gary to
guide it straight over his chest. He did his presses and a
couple extra, I guess he was showing off for me, and then had a
little trouble getting it back to the stand. I helped him, and
when we were done, I helped him to sit up and pulled the towel
out from under his naked buns and started to dry his back.
"Hey," Gary said to me, "just like a trainer in the gyms. You're
good." I dried his back and his chest off. They were so clean,
so smooth, so muscular. I could feel my recently jacked-off dick
swelling a little.
(I should digress here to say that when I say recently
jacked-off dick, I mean really recently. I was a the beginning
of a very active adolescence, and my juices were really starting
to flow that summer. I must have beat myself off on average 3 or
4 times a day. I didn't realize it then, but part of that was my
growing attraction to guys. There was so much opportunity to see
half naked guys, naked guys, and rub around with guys, that I was
hot pretty much all the time. I had beat off that morning when I
got up, and once just before leaving home to spy through Gary's
window. And, as usual then, was ready to do it again, and my
balls were really full of juice again. I have always had big
balls, and then they were always full, ready to shoot.)
I moved around in front of him and dried his legs and
thighs, but I didn't get anywhere near his crotch. I didn't want
him to move away, and I was scared. He was my brother's best
friend, and I didn't want any trouble with Dave. I finished by
drying off his feet, which tickled him, and he started to swat at
me and hit me away, laughing all the time. Then he stood up, and
said: "Well, Dave is away and I don't have anyone to work out
with. You want me to show you these new throws I have, and teach
them to you. Maybe you can really learn them, and if they are as
good as I think they are, you could even pin me. Want to try?"
"Sure," I told him. "I am always ready to learn something.
Anyway, I could throw you and pin you without them." He laughed.
I had said that to him before, it was so much bullshit, but it
was a joke between us. Like I said before, when he wanted to, he
could throw me and pin me so fast that I really didn't know what
hit me.
Gary, remember, was stripped to his bare butt and jock
strap, and nothing else except a film of sweat which was back on
his skin in this heat, even though I had just towelled him. I
was dressed in cotton gym shorts, and a t-shirt, and sneakers
without socks, and nothing else. (It was that time of the decade
and my life when wearing shorts with no under pants or briefs was
the thing to do, and I did the thing to do. It was hot, I liked
the air around my dick and balls, and I thought it was sexy and
daring.) I pulled off my t-shirt and my sneakers, and helped Gary
to pull the heavy bench and stand out of the middle of the floor
and out of the way, over by the wall. He took down a heavy
wrestling mat which was rolled up and standing in the corner, and
the two of us unrolled it and centered it in the middle of the
floor. I was wearing only my shorts. Only my shorts, nothing
underneath. "You get down, assume the bottom position." Gary
said to me, and as I did get down on my hands and knees, he knelt
beside me and took the upper position. Down like that on my
hands and knees, my dick, which had no briefs to hold it, showed
clearly through the material of my shorts. When Gary put his big
hands on my arms and straddled me, I could feel the slick
sweatyness of his skin on by back, and some of his sweat soaked
through the cotton of my shorts, wetting my buns. My dick
swelled a little, but not so much that it was embarrassing.
"Now watch this," Gary said, and before I knew what happened
I was lying on my stomach on the mat, my face in the mat, Gary's
weight pressing me down, his jock strap covered crotch grinding
into my butt, his chest sweetly pressing heavily on my back. He
was pressing me down, so that my dick was ground into the mat,
and it was almost impossible for me to breathe.
"Now, pay attention," Gary said again, and before I knew
what had happened, he had moved his forearm under my chest, and
his other hand went down across my abdomen and then past my dick
and under my crotch, and in less than a second he had flipped me
over and was pinning me to the mat on my back, with his naked,
sweaty, smooth slick chest pressing against mine. He was much
bigger than I, so that his nipples spanned from my chest to just
above my dick, the tip of my dick flipped upwards and brushing
his nipple. The sweaty suction of his chest now gripped my
stomach, so that I could feel his body sticking to mine. He
looked around into my face, his lips so close to mine that I
could smell his breath, which was sweet and smooth, and I could
see every feature of his smooth face, which had no blemishes on
it at all. Gary was a very healthy young man, and it showed in
his skin, in everything.
"I can get out of this," I said to him, somewhat out of
breath, and I began to struggle, pushing up with my heels against
the mat for leverage and using the strength of my upper legs.
This forced Gary to bear down and shift his weight more evenly
over my body, so that now his chest was over mine, his stomach
over my stomach. Since he was taller, his dick was down between
my thighs, but his abdomen pressed hard into my crotch and dick.
I was starting to get a little hard, which was something that
happened to me about every thirty minutes or so, at least, but I
couldn't feel his dick since the jock pouch was down below my
crotch.
I continued to struggle, which caused him to bear down
harder, which made me a little harder, and then, in the course of
struggling, I brought my legs together to try to lift myself up.
I was surprised to discover that Gary seemed to be hard, also,
there in his jock. When my thighs came together, I could feel
his dick and it was in a definite boner. I pressed up against
his body harder, and the skin of my smooth thighs encountered the
bare tip of his dick head, which, his boner being as much bigger
than mine as he was taller than I, was sticking up a fraction of
an inch above the line of the waist band of his jock. I had seen
Gary naked once before, in the shower of my house one weekend
when he had stayed with Dave, and knew that he had a very massive
dick. I hadn't ever seen it hard, but I was feeling it now, and
it was large.
I was a little shocked. I didn't know what to do. I was
hot, but then, I was always hot. I was 14 and would hump
anything to get off, my pillow, my mattress, a rug, a pot holder,
the inside of my shorts, the inside of anybody's shorts, etc.
But I had never had sex with anybody else, except when my cousin
Dave had taught me to jack off, and then, we just did it
together, but not to each other. We had been together for
Christmas Vacation, and our parents had taken three rooms, one of
each of them, and one for the kids. My brother Dave had left
early to do something for his ROTC, and so my cousin Dave and I
were left alone in the room for three days at the end. I had
never beat off, but had a boner every morning when I woke up, and
rubbed it a lot, but didn't really know anything about getting it
off.
The first morning after my brother left, I got up and
started for the bathroom with my dick sticking up under my
briefs, a clear flag pole of my state. Dave had noticed this
every morning so far, but with my brother there, had not said
anything. (My brother and I had both seen each other's boners in
the mornings, but we considered them to be normal, what you had
until you went in to pee.) My brother had told me that, and since
we both had them most every morning (we shared a room at home,
too), we didn't think much of it. Except that I liked the way it
felt, and squeezed it and felt it before I got out of bed a lot.
If my brother noticed that, he never said anything, and I guess
he did the same thing, also.
Anyway, Dave, my cousin Dave that is, not my brother also
called Dave, leaned out of his bed, which was between mine and
the bathroom in the motel room, and put his hand out and took my
hard little dick in his hand as I went to the john. Actually, he
didn't take it in his hand, he hit it, lightly, with a flick of
his fingers and said: "What is this thing? It's always sticking
out in the mornings like it wants to get whacked off."
Well, to be truthful, I didn't have any idea what he was
talking about. It might be hard to believe, but I didn't know
what masturbation was. I guess I was somewhat innocent, more so
than most, but for some reason, I just didn't know. And so, in
all honesty and innocence, I asked him, "What does that mean?",
and I'm not sure if he thought I was inviting him, knowing what
was going to happen, or if he believed me, but he played it
straight and asked me if I hadn't ever jacked off, and I asked
him again, what does that mean?
Well, that was all it took. Dave was out of bed, out from
under the covers in a second, and he was naked when he stood up.
I don't know if he had slipped his shorts off under the covers
when I stood up, or if he had them off from before; I don't know
if he was beating himself hard under the covers before this
started, if he planned to jack off and cum while I was in the
bathroom, or what. (I do know that Dave is now gay and so I
presume that this was a big turn on for him then.) Anyway, he
stood up and was buck naked and was hard, and his dick, which was
fully developed, with nice balls and some downy hair around the
base of his dick and his balls, his dick was standing at full
erection, full attention, and his hand just went to it naturally
and wrapped itself around it, and he leaned over a little and
bent his head and started to spit on his dick and fist, and got
his dick and fist all wet with his own saliva.
He started to stroke it very slowly, and said: "Like this,
this is beating off. Don't you know?" and so I had to say, "No,
I don't know about it. I never did it."
He couldn't believe that my brother hadn't showed me, but
then he thought about my brother Dave, the ROTC cadet, Navy
bound, and I guess he figured the either Dave had never jacked
off, or certainly hadn't wanted to "corrupt his little brother,"
so he start to instruct me.
"Like this," he said, and opened his fist so I could see his
hard dick with the veins swelling out on the sides, "you grab it
like this and get it wet, because it feels much better that way
than if it is all dry, and you let your fist close around it not
too tight at first, and stroke it, letting the skin of your palm
slide against the skin of your dick, like this, slowly, then
harder and faster as you go on." And he showed me, very
carefully and in great detail, how you went about beating off,
until finally his dick exploded in gobs of wet, white, creamy
cum.
Well, I was hard as could be watching this, and after Dave
came he smeared his cum all over his dick and fist, and started
right in again. "I can cum three or four times in a row, in
about 5 to 6 minutes," he told me as he started to whack off
again. "You try yours now, do what you saw me do." And so, of
course, I did what Dave had done, and the results were about the
same, an explosion of white, hot, creamy, steaming cum, but not
as much as his, and thinner. I've been told since then by a lot
of guys and a couple of doctors, too, that the first time is
always thinner and less than it gets to be later on, but, the
feeling, ah, the feeling.
Dave shot his second load about 15 seconds after I shot mine,
and we both sat down on his bed. He reached under his pillow and
pulled out his under-pants, which he used to wipe the cum off of
his dick and his hand, and then passed them to me for the same
purpose. I cleaned up, and we both lay there and talked, and he
told me all about beating off, that everybody does it, how he had
learned from a counselor in Boy Scout Camp who had him share his
tent one night on an overnight, what else had happened that
night, all that kind of stuff. We didn't touch each other, just
talked, and then at the end we both got up and took showers,
pissed, got dressed and went to breakfast just like nothing had
happened. Except we seemed to need to rest and spend a good bit
of time lying down the next couple of days, and our parents
couldn't figure out if we were sick or just tired or lazy or
what, but what we were doing was beating off, about five times a
day.
Anyway, this is a digression. These memories only took about
two seconds to flash before me as I lay pinned under Gary, his
hard dick pressing into my thighs, my own hard dick pressing into
his abdomen, and then he rolled off of me very fast and was up
and walking away before I could look at his crotch and let my
eyes confirm what I had felt. He went and sat on his bench in
such a way that I couldn't really see his crotch, and started to
dry with his towel, letting it hang down over his lap. The only
thing I could be sure of was that I had been hard under him, and
that I still was. What if I had imagined his hard-on because I
wanted it to be there?
"Pretty good, huh?" Gary said to me, dropping the towel into
his lap. "Bet you didn't even know what hit you with that one."
"That's true," I answered, "but you're much bigger and
stronger than I am. I don't know if the hold is so good or if you
just overpower me."
"I'll teach it to you, then," Gary replied. "If you can use
it to flip and pin me, then it is great."
Gary got down in the down position. When he stood up to come
to the mat, I noticed that his crotch seemed to be its normal,
large, filled jock state, and didn't see any sign of a hard on or
a dick tip above his waist band. I didn't know if it had gone
down, or if it had never been there. I went over and got down
over him, and put my arms over his body and my hands in the right
posi-tions. I could feel my own nipples sticking to his smooth
back.
"Now, slide your weight up and over me, and at the same time
dig your heels in and press your shoulder against my side," Gary
began, and he instructed me slowly a couple of times through the
complex motions of the throw and pin which he had worked out. It
was hard to learn, and the first couple of attempts I couldn't
budge him, but after a while it seemed that it was getting
easier, and that I could use my weight and leverage to throw him
over and pin him. He showed me carefully how to slide my hand
down across his belly, moving over his crotch, between his legs,
and the to use my forearm as a lever and flip him over. He
wasn't wearing anything but his jock, remember, so each time I
moved my hand, I encountered first his dick and balls, and then
the smooth, bare skin of his ass cheeks. To do the flip I had to
hold onto something, so I found myself holding onto his ass, my
fingers closing around the bun, and my finger tips sliding into
the crack of his cheeks. Gary continued to show me patiently.
He didn't seem to mind the squeezing on his ass.
Finally, after we had done it about twenty times, and were
both covered with sweat, I had him over and down and flipped in
on fluid motion, my chest pressing against his chest, my crotch
digging into his abdomen (he was taller than I, remember), and my
thighs pressing hard into his crotch. I looked around at him the
way that he had at me, earlier, and as I looked over into his
eyes, I could feel his dick starting to swell again, against the
inside of my thighs, until the smooth flesh of the head and tip
came up out of the jock. My own dick was hard, and with all the
moving around, my shorts had kind of gotten pushed down a little,
so most of it, about the last inch of the shaft, and the head,
swelled up and stood out of the waist band of my shorts and
pressed into the sweaty, gripping smooth flesh of his abdomen and
my crotch pressed to-gether.
In one fluid motion Gary slid his arm between our bodies, the
lubricant of the sweat helping, and down past my hardness and up
into my crotch, around past my balls and up under my shorts to
the flesh of my ass buns, and grabbing me as I had been grabbing
him, with his fingers moving into the crack between the cheeks,
he leveraged me up off his chest, threw his weight into his
heels, and flipped me onto my back, pinning me. In that move my
shorts came almost completely off, they were too loose and big
anyway, (I told you I like the airy quality of loose clothing in
the summer), and my dick and balls came into full contact with
the sweaty flesh of his belly.
Gary had me pinned, completely pinned. He was pressing his
full weight down onto my body, his stomach pressing into my
crotch, his nipples on my chest. I couldn't budge, except to
breathe, and to get harder in my dick. That was all the movement
that would happen. I was very excited, that was for sure. The
most attractive person to me in my life was Gary. He was the
captain of the wrestling team, he was my older brother's best
friend, he was the best looking boy in town, he had my body
pinned under his, I was mostly naked, my dick was hard and
pressed against him, and he knew it. And, so, I brought my legs
together, and the smooth, silky flesh of my inner thighs, that
flesh which never gets hard, which always has a smooth texture,
and is always soft and welcoming, that smooth warmth between my
legs wrapped itself around his completely hard and free dick.
Hard. Free.
Somehow, in the turn and throw, his jock had come loose. I
don't know to this day if he did it so fast I didn't notice, or
if in all the wrestling around it just got pulled down, but what
I found with my thighs was his dick, definitely hard, definitely
free of his jock, and definitely pressed between my two legs
which were pressed together, and definitely he was humping me.
It was that simple. Gary was humping me. I looked up into
his face and it was clear, he was going to hump my legs until he
came, and I was welcome to cum, too, if I wanted to, cause every
time he moved up and down to thrust his dick in and out of my leg
clamp, every time he fucked my inner thighs, the smooth, slick,
sweaty skin of his belly fucked my dick.
I didn't know what to do. I couldn't say anything. Didn't
have anything to say. I didn't want to fight him off, I loved
it. But I didn't want to take a chance that we would think
something bad of me. So I just wrapped my legs tighter, squeezed
his dick harder, wrapped my arms around his neck, pressed my face
into the nape of his sweaty neck, quietly tasting the salt of his
skin on my lips, and began to hump back. Shit, if he could
actually hump my thighs, then, fuck, I could hump his stomach
back!
As soon as Gary realized that I was responding, that he
wasn't fucking a mattress or a pillow, but a living boy who was
fucking back, he began to really get into it. His big hands slid
under my sweaty back and down to my buns, where they began to
knead my cheeks. That lifted my legs up slightly, which gave me
a better crevice for him to fuck. He shifted his angle a little,
so that his dick was now in my thighs parallel to my legs instead
of pushing down into them and to the floor. His dick head was
now actually rubbing against the bottom of my crotch, between my
balls and ball sack and my ass crack. I lifted up just a
fraction of an inch more, and the tip of his dick head slid right
into the crack of my ass cheeks, the shaft imbedded between my
thighs, the cum slit pointing straight as my asshole. A hard
shot would drive his shaft right up my anus, except that at that
angle it wasn't possible.
At the same time I increased the force of my arms around his
neck, and pulled my body closer to his, the force of my humping
freeing the rest of my scrotum from my shorts. I rammed my body
and dick upward, pressing the full length of my dick, the tip,
head, full shaft, and the whole of the bottom of my ball sack, up
against his belly. The sweat of both our bodies had made our
skin so slippery that I was encased in an envelope made by both
our bellies, smooth and slippery, ideal for fucking. I didn't
know what to make of it. I had only ever beat off before, mostly
alone, and only for a few months. And here I was, being fucked
by the one boy I had a crush on, the one I only wanted to watch
all the time.
We were both young. We were both hot, and worked up, and it
had been a good workout on the weights, on the wrestling mat, and
we were both ready. It didn't take long. I felt I couldn't last
any longer, and grabbed the hair at the back of Gary's head and
squeezed everything: my legs together around his dick, my arms
around his neck, inside I squeezed around my dick and balls, my
asshole. I felt his dick suddenly go rigid, then start to move
again, the same as before, but harder, fuller, and his dick
started to grow, bigger. I cried out and threw my heels and
calves up and around behind him, pressing with the smooth, silky,
hairless inside of my thighs against his shaft. I felt his dick
get bigger still, and then slide up this smooth channel made by
my inner thighs, and up into the crack of my ass, and I felt the
tip actually touch the outer rim of my asshole, and then I came,
and he came, at just about the same moment, and I came big,
bigger than I had ever come, so big that I must have had 12, 15
bursts of orgasmic throbbing.
And Gary came too, very big. The first massive spurt came as
he drove his dick with a sudden thrust further than it had been
before. The tip just parted the rim of my asshole, although, as
I said, the way we were lying it couldn't penetrate. (It is
probably just as well. I was young and inexperienced, and he was
big and inexperienced, and unlubed, and if he had pressed inside
of me I probably would have 1- screamed, 2- been in pain, and 3-
freaked out all over the place.) As it was, it was just enough
of a penetration to get a good bit of that first load of jizz
actually up into my asshole, without hurting me or me really
understanding what was happening. I don't think he meant to fuck
me, it was just part of what happened in the heat of this sudden
moment. (I don't think any of it was planned).
And then Gary really started to cum. I thought I had a lot
of spurts and a big load on. He started to really fuck my crack,
and he must have kept it up for at least 2 or 3 minutes, and he
was cumming the whole time. To be sure, not as much as that
first blast, but cumming, noticeably cumming. We were drenched.
I was filled with his cum. It was in my ass, around my ass, in
between my legs, under me, I was lying in it, it was under my
buns, it was hot, it was cooling off, it was slippery, it was
drying, it was everywhere and everything at that moment. And
between us, caught in that secret cave made around my dick by our
bellies, was my cum, sealing us together like the magic glue it
was. Gary suddenly relaxed. His weight dropped on to me as if
he had fallen. I held on tighter, and pressed my face into his
neck. I was frightened. Even though he was the older one, and
had started the humping first, what if he told Dave, what if he
made fun of me? It didn't occur to me at that moment that he
might be afraid of what I would say or do. I knew that I had
wanted this, had waited outside for it to begin, and couldn't see
past that. In my mind, I was the seducer, had raped him, and he
was going to get even.
Gary reached around and unclasped my hands from behind his
neck, and pressed them down onto the mat. He pressed himself up
slightly, as in a push up, and looked down into my face. I
looked up at him. There was nothing either of us could say.
Suddenly, we were both sure. Sure that we would never say
anything, to anyone, not even to each other after today was over.
Sure that we had both wanted it, sure that it was finished.
I don't know how I knew all of that. I was only 14, but even
now, looking back, a wisdom came to me that was older than that.
I reached up and took Gary's face in my hands and pulled it down
to me, and kissed him on the cheeks, that's all. He tousled my
hair like he always did.
We both stood up.
"Some throw, isn't it?" Gary asked me.
"It sure is," I said. "Best I ever saw."
After that, I got dressed, and left his house. We never had
sex together again, and never talked about that sweet time in our
lives when we were innocently, completely, and hopelessly in
love.
|
|
