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Antelope Patrol, Part 4

Posted by: Author: Age: 53 now, 13-14 then Posted on: 0 comments
0 likes 666 views Category: Masturbation Male-Male Tags: Hall of Fame, Circle jerk, group


The last meeting of the Antelope Patrol's jerk off club was at the Fields' house. We got caught, or at least almost did. It was close enough for us to get scared. We were supposed to have weekly patrol meetings, and this week's meeting was in the Field's back yard. The Fields had a swimming pool and the Antelope Patrol was all for that. We liked to swim. Fun things happened when we swam, activities made more likely by the tall privacy fence around the Field's pool. The meeting at the Fields' house was the core five members of the patrol: Dave and Don Fields, Barry, Stookey and me, plus Curt. Also home that day was another Fields, youngest brother Robby. Robby looked just like Don, only smaller and even thinner. We started out swimming in the pool normally, being good boys and proper. Curt showed us some fancy dives. Mrs. Fields got ready to run errands, leaving eldest brother Dave to keep us in line. Little did she know. Dave tried hard to get her to take Robby with her. She wouldn't hear of it. Robby stayed with us. Still, after she left, the fun started. I can remember Don showing us how he could dive into the pool and lose his trunks. Barry was easily thin enough to pull off the same trick. Don and Barry kept adjusting things and diving in until they got they got their suits to come all the way off their feet. Curt was more direct. He stood on the end of the diving board and stripped off his suit, throwing it to the side. Curt proceeded to see how high he could jump up and down on the springy board. He easily flew three feet into the air. It seemed like his soft dick went up four. Curt did a cannonball for his dive. I hoped that didn't hurt. We roughhoused in the pool, dunking and goosing each other, trying to get each other naked. I remember us ganging up on Stookey, stripping him of his suit. At some point, I was stripped of mine, too. Soon, all seven of us, including young Robby Fields, were naked in the pool. One of the pair of swimming trunks had been thrown onto the roof of the house although the Fields brothers said they'd have no trouble getting them down. Besides a game of horse diving, where you had to duplicate another boy's dive off the diving board, there was more grab-ass, aka naked-boy-water-wrestling. We tried to avoid Curt as he would latch onto any loose, floating body part. It was tough since he swam like a dolphin. After a while, we got out of the pool, grabbed towels and went into the Fields brothers' bedroom.

The three brothers shared a huge bedroom just off the pool. Dave and Don tried to keep Robby Fields out, but Robby threatened to tell mom, yelling though the closed door he knew what we were doing. We hadn't started doing anything yet, but this was the day I found out how open the Fields brothers were with each other about masturbation so Robby could guess what we were going to do. Plus there is no better threat to a kid than I'm going to tell mom. Dave let Robby in the bedroom on strict orders he did exactly what he, Dave, told him to do. That seemed weird to me at the time. Here was this prepubescent naked boy, hanging around while we prepared to jerk off.

In the safety of his own bedroom, Antelope Patrol Leader Dave Fields quickly took control and told the patrol what we were all going to do, not just Robby. First, he had Robby lay down on the floor, face up. Then Dave told us to all kneel around Robby. He wanted us in close, close enough that it was uncomfortable. He kept having us squeeze in until I ended up between Robby's legs, right over his hairless child's dick and nuts, with Dave straight across from me, above Robby's head. Don and Curt were beside Robby and to my right. Stookey and Barry were on the other side of Robby. Our knees touched Robby. Dave said if Robby wanted a show, he'd give him a show. For more than a few seconds, I thought Dave was going to have us jerk off onto Robby. I didn't like that idea at all. Then Dave told Robby that he could watch us but that it would be from his bed, which was on the other side of the room. When Robby objected, Dave told Robby there were only two places he could be in this room, either on his bed or where he was right that moment. Dave had to repeat it a couple of times, elaborating on what would happen to Robby if he stayed where he was, but eventually, looking up into Dave's dick, Robby figured it out. He started to get up and go to his bed. Dave stopped him and said, no, that he had promised Robby a show. Dave had Robby lie back down. First grabbing his own, Dave ordered the Antelope Patrol to play with our puds and get boners. Robby would get to see what he might look like some day. We did what our leader said. Robby seemed to enjoy his private show as we each got a hard-on. Heck, I enjoyed the show. We were much closer to each other than we would be even in a dark tent, and this was in a brightly lit room in the middle of the afternoon. We were so close, you had to stare, not that staring was considered bad in our club. It was pretty much encouraged. I looked at Curt's hard pink trophy, bobbing in the air, almost straight out today, its tip only inches away from mine, his strawberry pubes still glistening with water from the pool. Yikes, what a dick. But it was the total package that made Curt so attractive. His red hair. The quick smile. Grace in motion. About a million freckles. With a body defined by years of swimming, you could only called Curt a stud, even at fifteen. Except for Dave, all the rest of us had flat chests. Not Curt with those swimmer's pecs. We didn't call it a six pack back then but Curt definitely had one. Curt had muscle tone. Dave didn't have that. Cute, red, agile, pink, muscular and hung, Curt was my Adonis. I looked across to Dave. While Curt's body was developed in the pool, Dave was just lucky. Nearly sixteen (Dave had his driver's learning permit), he no longer had the body of a boy. He was growing up to being a striking adult. But it wasn't only Dave's body that had grown up. It seemed like Dave's prick had gotten fatter over the past year. His pubic hair had definitely spread to his legs, which were now quite hairy. Being a hot day, I could even see his nuts, hanging low. I went back to Dave's boner. With the combination of its thickness and length, in some respects it was even more impressive than Curt's. Dave had a man's dick. Next I checked out Barry. A string bean, Barry's body was unremarkable. Barry's dick remained thinner than Dave's but maybe now beat him in length. With Barry's thick pubic hair, the two boys' crotches had much in common. The difference was Barry's package was on the body of a close friend and I now knew that territory as well as any other part of him. Maybe better. Over the past few months, Don's pubes had filled in and his dick had grown so that he was on his way to also matching Dave. Don's dick, framed by the increased hair, looked big on his skinny frame. But nobody had changed as much as Stookey. Sublime little Stookey. I smiled at Stookey, a grin on his face answering me while he fingered his meat. His dick was now significantly longer and fatter. While it would certainly grow more, Stookey's dick had completed the transition from a child's to one owned by a young adult. Still, it was Stookey's pubic hair that had improved the most. It now covered his crotch, and if I could see them, his nuts. He no longer looked like a little boy. I appreciated Stookey's grown up dick, jumping and twitching. My dick? It, too, had grown longer but I hadn't gotten much more hair. It's hard to say how I felt about it. It was just my dick. It could be better but it worked. The patrol kneeling there, that's a mental image I still carry with me: the six of us squeezed in tight, our boners sticking out with their tips nearly touching and all waving over another naked boy. After a bit, a now bug-eyed Robby reached up to check out Curt's dick. Understandable, but Robby bumped into boners as he leaned up; there was really no room. There were whoas and watch outs as the circle broke down. It didn't matter. Robby never made it to Curt. Dave was done with Robby. Dave ordered him to his bed. Robby complained. In one swift move, Dave picked up Robby and carried him over to his bed. By the words he used while he manhandled Robby across the room, everyone, the five of us and Robby, all, knew Dave really meant it. Either stay on your bed or be covered with the spunk from six guys. It's your choice. I was also getting the impression that Robby knew a whole lot more about jerking off than the average guy of his age.

Once Robby was safely on his bed, Dave came back and sat on the floor with us. Dave pulled out a Frisbee and put it on the floor upside down, open like a bowl. He said today's game was to blast into the Frisbee. And the guy who blasted last? Dave had an idea. He walked over to a closet in the room and from a corner, pulled out a Polaroid camera. Color Polaroid cameras were new at this point. I knew the Fields family had one because Mr. Fields had brought it to troop meetings. The picture quality was only OK but who cared? They were magic. We immediately knew what Dave was thinking and there was a loud chorus of no way, nobody was taking a picture of me naked. Dave said who would know? We would, and maybe everybody else, too. We argued and negotiated. We finally all agreed to one picture of the loser's crotch, up close so you didn't know who it was and the picture would be torn up right away. We went around the circle and everyone gave their Scout's Honor that they'd allow their picture to be taken if they lost. We had learned the hard way this step was necessary when trying to enforce a penalty after one of our games.

We sat on the floor around the Frisbee, talking, building up our nerve for this jerk off game. Just to ice Robby, while we sat there, Dave made sure Robby knew he'd get a Frisbee worth of six boy spunk ground into his face if he got off that bed. Robbie stayed put for the rest of the session. I still didn't like the idea of jacking off with a kid as young as Robby in the room but anything else didn't seem to be an option. The obvious one, stopping, certainly wasn't. Plus, this was Dave's and Don's bedroom, too. We followed Dave. Rising to his knees, Dave told us to get on ours around the Frisbee. Dave had us move in close, though not nearly as tight as when we were around Robby. We were all soft so at least we'd begin from the same place. Dave said, Go! We all started furiously beating off. It was a race. While we'd had jerk off contests before, the stakes were pretty high this time. Getting my boner back and beating it as fast as I could, I glanced up to see Robby standing on his bed, craning to look into the circle. Oops. Robby was not a good thing to think about. I looked down at bouncing fists and wiggling dicks instead. Focus. I jerked harder. The only sound was a mangled chorus of slapping flesh. Without warning, Barry leaned in and blasted into the Frisbee. He then jumped up and dove headfirst over a row of masturbators, screaming loudly, first! Barry landed in a summersault and bounced up onto his feet, just missing a chair. Everyone was distracted except Curt, who was laughing while blasting his own load into the Frisbee. Damn, I wasn't even close yet. I had to get my attention back on business. I pictured a naked teenage girl from a nudist magazine. I jacked faster. I started to get the feeling. I knew it was there, somewhere. Dave blasted. Shit. I beat my dick even harder. I looked at the trails of spunk on the bottom of the Frisbee. The smell of sex was pretty intense. I watched Don and Stookey jerking their dicks with abandon, almost as much sideways as back and forth. I thought back to other times jerking off with these guys: our first skinny dipping sessions, a boner on a mountaintop, five naked boys in a backyard tent. Finally an overwhelming urge rose from my crotch and filled my head. I knew it was my turn. I crawled a little closer to the Frisbee and blasted my load into it. For me it was a huge release. With all the tension caused by Robby's presence, I came hard and I fell back from the circle after I shot my load.

Maybe I was simply glad I wasn't the last one to cum. Don Fields earned that booby prize. I knew that the moment I heard Stookey scream. After we had all recovered a bit, Dave started setting up the camera. These early Polaroids definitely weren't point and shoot. Don began to object but we wouldn't hear of it. Scout's Honor! Dave had Don stand up and move over next to the sliding glass door that lead out to the pool for better light. We all followed. Robby was happy. The glass door was over by him. Dave told Don to get a boner. Don said no way, that was not part of the deal. Without much of a fight, Dave relented. He stood few feet away from Don (you couldn't get too close with these old cameras or it would be out of focus), crouched down and took a picture. Dave pulled the Polaroid film out of the camera. You had to wait a specific amount of time before you peeled the picture off of the negative. We gathered around a desk, even Robby, whose banishment seemed to have been revoked, and waited for the picture to develop. Dave pulled the picture apart and laid it on the desk. Great whoops of laughter exploded as there was Don, from his chest to his knees, nude. The picture continued to darken as it developed. You couldn't make out any details but still here was a picture of Don naked. Bitchin'. We all grabbed for the picture to see it up close and a game of Keep It Away From Don spontaneously erupted. Very fun, the Keep It Away From Don game was sort of like the game we played in the pool when we stripped each other of our swim suits, except without the water and we were already naked. Eventually Curt wrestled Don to the ground and sat on his chest, pinning him to the floor, while the rest of us checked out Don's Polaroid and made crude jokes. After we'd all examined the picture, we gave it to Curt who, as he rose up off of Don, gave the Polaroid to him. Don looked at it and said it wasn't him. He might get away with that; it was fuzzy enough. Dave then yelled, last one in the pool gets their picture taken next, and ran for the sliding glass door. We all sprinted after him.

After a short swim, somebody said they were thirsty and so we went inside to get a Coke. I felt strange, wandering around somebody else's kitchen and house while nude but soon we ended up back in the Fields brothers' bedroom.

We sat around and for the first and only time, the Antelope Patrol had a long conversation about masturbation. That's when I found out that Dave and Don occasionally jerked off together. They mentioned doing it with each other in the shower. As reluctant as they were to admit this-surprising as the Antelope Patrol had done worse-I thought at the time that it might be a mutual masturbation kind of thing. I wanted to ask Curt about his shower with Mike in the basement but I thought better of it. Even at fourteen I knew the difference between social honesty and brutal honesty. Dave also told us when they went to bed he would occasionally pull down the covers and jerk off, putting on a show for Don and Robby. Crazy. I found out that Curt also learned how to beat off from an older brother, but only through an explanation, not a demonstration. I told about my first time jerking off in the bathroom. We also shared techniques. Curt liked to hump a pillow rather than use his fist. I later tried this in the privacy of my own bedroom but never could make it work. Barry liked to soap up his dick before jacking off, his favorite place to do it being in the bathtub, taking a bath. He described sitting on the edge of the tub, in the middle of taking his bath, only his feet in the water, and creating a ton of soap suds while he jacked. To clean up, he'd finish his bath. Curt talked about swimming. The YMCA back in his old home town had nude swimming. In fact, unless it was mixed sex swimming, during which trunks were always worn, most of the time the guys swam nude. Many of his swimming practices had been in the nude. Dicks became as interesting as ear lobes. Even when the occasional boner popped up, nobody cared. The first guy he jerked off with was a guy from that swim team although it was at one of their homes, in a pool house when they were changing clothes. Curt and his teammate were goofing around and this time when boners developed, there was definite interest. They ended up jacking off together that day, plus many more times before Curt moved. That was the only guy Curt mentioned jacking off with in his old hometown but I sensed they'd done it for quite a while. We found out Curt introduced Mike to the fun of beating off with another guy soon after he joined our troop. Curt and Mike shared a tent on the same camping trip the Antelope Patrol discovered the swimming hole. They first did it that night. Talk about coincidence. We were all meant to jack off together. Curt was going to high school next fall. While he knew the best swimmers shaved their arms, legs and chests, Curt had heard that the high school swim team forced the freshmen to shave off all their body hair. I still have an image of Curt, sitting on the edge of a bed, looking down and rubbing his pubes, resigned to losing them, saying there weren't a lot of them anyway. We talked about how long it would take for Curt's pubes to grow back. None of us knew. We guessed years. It had taken each of us years to get to where we were with ours. We shared more misinformation. Dave was convinced the acid in spunk would eat through sheets. We also thought a blow job somehow involved blowing air into a guy's dick. I tell you, we were stupid.

With us relaxing and talking about our sex lives, there was a totally different air in the room than there had been an hour before. The tension gone, Dave never ordered Robby to his bed. Instead, all this time, driven by curiosity, Robby moved around from boy to boy, checking out our crotches. He concentrated on the strangers: Barry, Stookey, Curt and me. We sat back on the beds or the floor and let Robby fondle and examine us. Somehow Robby's presence had gone from weird to normal and everyone was now very casual about it. At least I tried to be as casual as I could be while a strange boy fingered my privates, his face only inches away from them. Only with Curt was there any issue. Robby was fascinated by Curt and at one point Curt had to tell Robby to move on to the next guy. Otherwise, Robby risked getting shot in the eye. Curt wasn't the only boy who was turned on. Because of all the talking about beating off, helped along by Robby's hands and I'm sure my own, I, too, had a boner. So did others. There was a lull in the conversation. At that moment it seemed natural for us to just lie back and start jerking. Anyone who wasn't already hard quickly got that way and joined in. Even Robby played with himself, lying on his bed. There was a lot of grunting and groaning going on but almost no checking each other out. I guess we all just needed a good blast.

After we all came, we once more dove into the pool to wash off the spunk. It was at this point we got caught. Mrs. Fields came home to find seven naked boys in her swimming pool. Angry, she ordered us to get dressed. Trunks were quickly gathered up. Thank God she went inside while this all happened. We'd never been caught with our pants down before. We all knew we had to cool it. It was academic, anyway. Mr. Fields, for unrelated reasons of his own, soon resigned as Scoutmaster. Dave, then Don, left the troop. I'd see them through high school, but with Dave two years ahead of me and Don one behind, we didn't hang out. Curt became patrol leader of the Antelope Patrol. We shaped up and became real scouts. Curt became the boss, not a buddy, although I'm sure Mike and he kept something going. On campouts, they'd disappear for an hour or two. Humm. I got together with Barry at least one more time for a jerk off session, and maybe four or five more times with Stookey, once on a sleepover with the two of us even sharing my twin bed for the night, but that was it. Before I turned fifteen, my experimentation phase was over. The club broke up.

A number of years later I was back in town to visit family. I was a junior in college at that point and living many states away. I went out to dinner with my folks and in the restaurant we ran into the Fields family. I hadn't seen them in years. Mr. and Mrs. Fields were fine, but much cooler, Dave and Don were both there. Dave looked great, having filled into his body, and he wore a full beard. All of our hair was way too long. Don was now taller than Dave although still as thin as can be. I was certainly thinner than they had ever seen me. Dave was with his fiance. Both boys had stayed in town. Robby, now Rob, was still in high school and not with them. We traded phone numbers and after dinner, called and arranged to meet each other later that night at a neighborhood tavern. Dave's fiance stayed home. It turned out they were living together which was still a controversial thing in 1974. We shared a few pitchers of beer and checked up on each other's happenings. Dave was attending the local state university. The wedding was still a ways away. They met through an old girlfriend of Don's. Don was working, doing what I can't remember. He was thinking about joining the Navy as he had a terrible draft number. Vietnam definitely hadn't wound down yet. I talked about college. I told them I'd hiked the John Muir Trail between Yosemite Valley and Mt. Whitney the summer between my freshman and sophomore years. I'm sure I let these guys know that I finally got laid the beginning of my junior year. Once in a dick measuring contest, you're always in a dick measuring contest. We never talked directly about the club although we did allude to it a few times. I poured a beer poorly and head flowed out of the glass. As I was wiping up the foam with a bar napkin, I warned the other guys I got sperm on the table. That got a chuckle. The three of us joked that we never participated in anything like our club activities again and I believed them. I haven't. At one point, Don and I were in the bathroom, taking a leak. Standing at the urinals, staring at the wall, Don said, you know, the picture was never destroyed. Huh? The Polaroid, he repeated. Walking over to the sink, he explained Dave had been a jerk and kept the picture as blackmail. He gave it back to Don years later and Don threw it in a box, its power long since gone. He saw it when he moved, now curled and faded. You could barely even tell it was nude guy anymore. Don joked he should throw it away. Somehow I knew he wouldn't.

Dave, Don and I finished our beers. We shook hands and making the Boy Scout three fingered salute, pledged to stay in touch. I never saw them or another member of the Antelope Patrol again.



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