I like Solo Touch in part because some stories bring back long forgotten memories from my teen years. This concerns events that took place when I was fifteen, about seventeen years ago. I was very experienced by then, having masturbated since I was nine. I initiated most of my friends into the fraternity, and had jerked off with probably a dozen different boys by the time I was fifteen. Our modest home backed onto a gully. Across the gully was another county, with a lot of very expensive homes on large grounds.
One of those homes had a boathouse built right at the gully, amid a heavy growth of trees and brush, where it would be out of sight from the main house. I noticed that a person who I thought was a boy seemed to be living in the boathouse. I would see him tending the lawn and grounds of the estate from time to time. We held my sister's birthday party back by the gully. I was curious, and a pretty aggressive kid, so after the party broke up I took some left-over cake and other sweets over and knocked on the garage-type boathouse door.
I heard some rustling inside and the door was swung up. I saw that it was not a boy as I had originally thought, but a short man who was foreign-looking. The man looked somewhat scared and spoke very little English. I offered him the cake and he smiled and took it. I felt very odd as I was tall for my age and very skinny. He was more physically developed and filled out than me but so short it was hard for me to feel like I was with an adult. He thanked me in Spanish, and since I was taking Spanish then (but doing poorly) I said a few words to him back in his language. Anyway, after that we would smile and greet and try to talk despite the language problem whenever we saw each other.
My mother knew I had become acquainted with him and whenever we had some good leftovers after dinner (which happened often) She would prepare a nice plate that I would bring over to him. I came to learn that he was only 22, but had a wife and a three-year-old daughter in Guatemala. He was here to earn money to support them and his mother, and sent most of his earnings back. He had a picture of them in the boathouse by his cot. We learned how to communicate pretty well, with a mixture of a few English, a few Spanish words and lot's of signs and body expressions. It was a little weird the way we related. I sometimes treated him like a young boy because of his size; and at other times like a mature man to whom I should show some deference. He was always very polite to me and I was not used to being treated so respectfully by an older person.
Since I had a very active jack off life by then, I was curious how he satisfied himself there all alone. Once, instead of staying for a visit after I brought over his dinner, I started to leave because I needed to study. He asked why I had to leave so soon. Trying to joke, I said I have to go home and (here I used the universal hand-sign for jerking off). He was completely mystified by this. I put my hand in my crotch area and did the sign again. He still didn't understand. I said, 'Le enseñaré', by which I meant to say 'I'll teach you'. I never really mastered Spanish and that was probably wrong but he nodded his ascent like he understood. So I immediately dropped my shorts and briefs and stepped out of them.
His mouth dropped as he stared at my long dick. I had a seven inch flaccid dick then and it is bigger now by the way. He just stood there and I motioned that he should take off his pants, but he wouldn't. So I went up to him and started to undo his belt. He went into wild giggling fits like I was torture-tickling him, and tried to shove my hands away. It seemed to me like he was behaving like a shy little girl would have, and this got me aroused. My dick stood right up. He made a sound kind of like astonishment at the sight, and stood still letting me take his pants down.
I knew his tiny uncut dick was hard as it protruded 90 degrees from his body, but it was much smaller erect than mine was when flaccid. Just standing there face to face I started to stroke myself and encouraged him to do the same. After some encouragement he did it for a while. I was ready to cum but slowed down and went over and grabbed his dick. He jumped and yelped and I let go. I resumed jerking myself and to my surprise he came closer and put his hands gently on my balls. That made me cum right away and I shot and shot all over him and myself. He hadn't cum but was still trying with the hand motion I had just taught him.
I figured from what he did to me, that he wanted something gentler than my first approach of grabbing him, so I slowly moved my hand over and cupped his balls. My hand was soaked from my own cum and the smell of cum was pervasive. He surprised me by running his free hand through my (then very long) sandy hair and looking into my eyes. It made me a little uncomfortable but I let him do it. He started making sounds and let go of his dick but kept his hand in my hair. He didn't shoot like me but cum started to roll out of his dick, in thick clumps. A lot of it. He was speaking in Spanish and I have no idea what he was saying.
I wiped up with my underpants and handed them to him to clean up too as I didn't see anything around the boathouse that he could use. We sat down and relaxed in contented silence for a while. He was looking at me very affectionately. The odd thing, when I was leaving he took my hand and shook it gently and warmly! I don't know what this meant to him. We never shook hands before. The next day I brought his dinner and we both acted as though nothing had happened. We never did anything sexual again. I figured he could take care of himself now. About a year later he disappeared. I guess he went back to his home.