My experience with boys was limited to my boyfriend when we both moved to a larger town so he could manage an automobile oil change shop. We had been dating for about a year and I assumed we would ultimately get married. Our sex life was the ritual of him climbing onto me in the dark and thrusting for a minute or two. I knew about boys jacking off, but it was only anecdotal; I never really understood the logistics of the act.
While my boyfriend operated the shop, I worked as a waitress at a restaurant in midtown. It was here that I made some friends who would help me in a time of personal need and expose me to how erotic a sexual relationship can be.
The bartender was a tall fellow with curly brown hair. His girlfriend worked as a waitress with me. She was about my height (5' 5'), except she had wavy blonde hair and blue eyes (I have red hair and brown eyes). They were both attending college at the university here in town. The bartender, Malcolm, had purchased a very old but very large house a few blocks off campus. His girlfriend Katie often stayed with him rather than in her dorm room. Malcolm had a roommate Ted who dropped out of school and worked as a waiter at another restaurant.
Not long after moving to town, I was invited to join everyone after work one night for a midnight swim at another waitress' apartment complex pool. It was winter, and the complex had covered the pool with an inflatable dome. The interior was so foggy, you could barely see 20 feet. There were maybe 10 or 12 of us who decided to go, including a couple of customers who overheard us making plans. I watched Malcolm and Katie peel off their clothes and jump into the pool, then others followed by stripping and falling into the warm water. I couldn't do it. I felt self-conscious about being naked in front of others, but I was more fearful about explaining to my boyfriend why my hair was wet when I got home. One of the two customers (who were members of a band) had brought some pot and he sat on the poolside and lit it, motioning for me to join him. I sat next to him, dangling my legs into the water. The pot was VERY relaxing, and I soon felt no qualms about looking at his naked body. His pubic hair was very fair, with tight curls throughout. His peter languished on his thigh.
He said something to the effect that pot is a proven aphrodisiac and I laughed (like pot always makes you do). He looked at me quite seriously and said, 'I'm serious. Watch.' I looked down at his peter and it was stretching in length, working its way up his leg to his waist. I couldn't look away. It moved up and up until it was turgid and sticking up toward his navel.
'See,' he said. I had felt my boyfriend's erection before, usually to guide him into me for lovemaking, but I had never had an opportunity to just observe a boy and his hardon. I was fascinated. It seemed like such a marvelous thing to have dangling between your legs, how it's small and soft, then long and hard. I'm certain the pot removed any inhibitions I had about looking, but when he asked if I wanted to touch him, I said no. He nodded toward the joint in my hand and said, 'You can finish that if you want,' then he jumped into the water to splash with the others. I could hear them laughing and squealing , but could see very little until we agreed it was time to leave and everyone climbed out dripping wet.
Less than a month after moving to town, my boyfriend told me he thought it was best if we saw other people. I was crushed. I know now that he was too chickenshit to move to town on his own, so he asked me to join him. Only once he realized there was nothing to fear did he have the courage to ask me to move out.
Malcolm volunteered a bedroom I could use until I decided on a plan of action, all I had to do was contribute to expenses. So, I moved in with Malcolm and Ted.
The old house had only one full bath, so taking a shower was sometimes a delay. The bathroom door did not lock, and more than once while I was showering, either Malcolm or Ted would pop in apologizing and retrieve something forgotten from the countertop. After a while, I didn't even mind it and the nudity seemed second nature.
I found out when summer came that a house with no air conditioning was downright steamy. Malcolm had replaced the bedroom lights with ceiling fan lights, so at least we had a breeze, but to optimize what little breeze there sometimes was required us to keep our windows and bedroom doors open. I typically slept in a t-shirt and panties, but soon found out that both Malcolm and Ted slept naked. This was also when I found out that men get erections when they sleep. Ted, who was really rather homely but had a nice body, slept awfully soundly. The first time I saw his naked body was when I went into his room to tell him his father was on the phone. He was sound asleep with his pillow over his head, lying on top of his sheet, buck naked. His penis was fully erect. I went back into the hallway and kept calling his name until he woke up. When I went in to hand him the cordless phone he had covered himself with his sheet.
After that, I would occasionally glance into Ted's room and sometimes Malcolm's on early mornings. Most often they would be under a sheet, but the outline of a hardon was clearly there.
Our rooms were on the second story of the house. Malcolm's room was the largest, and he had a deck off his room that overlooked the backyard. When the sun was high, the deck was in full light. You could see onto the deck from the bathroom window, but couldn't really see it from any where else, either because of the proximity of the large oak and elm trees in the backyard, or the solid, shingled railing along the deck's edge. One summer afternoon I was in the bathroom to pee. When I stood to flush it, I saw Malcolm and Katie on the deck, sunbathing nude on beach towels. They were both covered in suntan oil, and Katie lay on her side lazily stroking Malcolm's belly and pubic hairs while he lay on his back. Occasionally, she would lightly touch his peter, and it would jump.
I stood at the window and watched as she began in earnest to slowly jack him with her right hand. I remember being fascinated by how she would hold it sticking straight up and then reverse her grip, never changing the rythym of her stroking. I watched for perhaps five or ten minutes before Malcolm's body tensed and a string of semen shot straight up as Katie pumped him quickly. She wiped it off his chest with her towel as he turned his head and kissed her oily neck.
More stories later of my stay with Malcolm and Ted...