Although the broad strokes of this story are based on a true event, the specifics have been reconstructed from spotty memories-and in the process undoubtedly dramatized. Enjoy!
A few years after I graduated from college, I had landed a pretty okay job. It was challenging and interesting, but it was just lame enough to not make my life challenging or interesting. I was good at it-enough to earn the praise of managers and peers, but not good enough to make me really feel the deep urge to excel any further. There was a girl I was seeing, and although we were having a good time, I didn't see it going anywhere long term. There was a collection of friends I saw every week or two, and every month or so I would muster the excitement to do something new. I knew that I wasn't perfectly fulfilled, but I didn't see what I should do to fix it. I was in a boring stasis.
James started a little after my second year. He was handsome, I guess you could say: tall, athletic, blonde, young. People who knew us both joked that we could have been cut from the same cloth-in appearances, at least. He had a deep-seated confidence that would make him unstoppable if he had any credibility to back it up. I was desperate for a friend so I went out of my way to be friendly. He was a natural born schmoozer, and I could tell from the beginning that we'd become close 'friends', whether I liked it or not.
Our first lunch backed up that conclusion. He failed to see that I, two years his senior in this role, knew the lay of the land better than he possibly could. Minutes into our first lunch he began to give completely worthless advice on how to solve the subtle frustrations and challenges I was dealing with at my job. His level of self-assurance drove me crazy and was practically insulting. He pontificated on subjects that he apparently knew little about, patiently explaining how the institution of marriage is the least natural thing in the world and how one day he might propose to his long-term girlfriend, but only because she'd get pissed if he didn't. I decided I would endeavor to put up with him but nothing more. As I said, I was bored.
Months later, James and I were good 'friends', though through no effort of my own. I had mentioned that I had been stressed-a combination of an abundance of frustration at work and with the girl I was seeing-and James had given me the sage advice that I needed to relax. '... and I know just the thing. I was planning on taking Friday off to go hiking. Get away from it all. My uncle's got a tract of land up in the mountains that's completely secluded...' yadda, yadda, yadda. He droned on, but I was sold. I did need a break from it all-even if it included him. Who knows, maybe I'd be able to break away from him for 30 minutes and, I don't know, somewhere in the middle of some beautiful forest, I'd be able to desecrate the great majesty of nature by jizzing on a rock or something. That would be a thrill.
He picked me up early Friday morning in a car he had rented for the occasion. We drove for what seemed like hours, and James droned on about this or that topic. I was beginning to second guess my decision to come along when we pulled up to his uncle's place. It was nothing more than a gravel road but it was in the shadow of a majestic mountain and was clearly miles away from any other person.
The hike was beautiful-enough to counteract James's droning on about some stupid topic. It was a hot day, and we were both working up a sweat. But then he said something interesting.
'Oh, hey, I forgot to tell you the best part. Up ahead a couple of miles, there's a beautiful pond that we can go swimming in to cool off,' he said.
'Wow, that sounds perfect!' I replied-a quick swim was just what I needed. But then I remembered: 'Oh, damn, I didn't know we'd be swimming, so I didn't bring a suit.'
'That's okay,' he assured me, 'you can just skinny dip. I don't mind.' There was a pause, and then he added, 'In fact, I'll be skinny dipping, too.'
'Oh yeah? Did you forget a suit too?'
'No, but two things' he replied, with the confident air of an expert explaining something to a neophyte. 'First, I don't know if you've ever been skinny dipping'-he paused expectantly, and I responded with a quick 'no'-'but it's the best damn feeling, and I don't want to miss the opportunity. And secondly, I figure we might as well take the friendship to the next level.'
He paused, practically begging me to ask him what he meant. In any other context I would have thought that he was flirting or making some kind of move. In any case, I found it a bit ominous.
'What do you mean by that?'
'Have you ever heard of the phrase 'dick buddies'?'
He said the term in such a confident manner that I almost didn't realize what a ridiculous concept it was-in retrospect, something clearly dreamt up by some horny teenager. Of course, I was completely intrigued.
'No, I can honestly say that I haven't.'
'It's when guys are such good friends that it's no big deal to see each other's dicks at all. It's like looking at each other's noses or something. No big deal at all.'
I was intrigued. Maybe I wouldn't have to jizz on a rock all by myself. I had jerked off with a couple of other guys in my youth, but it had never been pre-planned. More importantly, I didn't want to seem too eager in case this was some kind of elaborate prank. I waited, appearing to hesitate.
'Back in high school, all of us on the lacrosse team were dick buddies. It was mainly out of necessity, I guess, because otherwise the locker room would have been awkward. But it helped build the team spirit, and, I don't know, it was kind of fun.'
For a moment I could see his confidence wane. Was his suggestion too weird?
'Yeah, you know what, that sounds cool. I'm up for it.'
His countenance softened visibly and a kind of giddy excitement took hold. To be honest, the same feeling took hold of me. For the next mile or two, we talked about various light-hearted topics but it was exceedingly clear that both of us, in the back of our heads, were just thinking about the unveiling of dicks that awaited us. It was giddy, horny fun in the most adolescent of ways, but that was exactly the type of mood I was in.
We arrived shortly at the pond. If we wouldn't have been so damn excited we might have taken more time to appreciate the supremely placid beauty of the place. But we had matters to attend to. We quickly started removing our shirts and shoes.
'Are you ready for the unveiling of the dicks?' he asked, with a mock solemnity that would be due to some age-old ritual. His giddiness erupted on his face in the form of a goofy smile.
I couldn't help but get caught up in the giddiness of it, too. 'Absolutely,' I replied, as I removed my clothes with alacrity.
Soon we were standing facing each other wearing just our boxers, hands ready at the waistbands.
'By the way, I've got to warn you,' he said, 'If we want to do this right, we've got to take this seriously. We can't just glance at each other's dicks-we've got to really take the time to carefully study them and get to know them. That's the whole point.'
I nodded in agreement. If I was in, I was all the way in.
'Okay, ready to go?' he asked, as he prepared to push his waistband down and expose his dick to all of nature, and, more importantly, to me.
In that fraction of a second I hesitated. For the first time, I realized that I had gotten more caught up the moment than I had realized, and was already sporting a partial hard-on. Although in retrospect-given the situation-the fear was obviously unfounded, in that very instant I was scared that he'd think I was kind of perv or something.
He saw my hesitation and responded, as he grabbed the elastic band of his boxers with his hand and prepared to push, 'What's the worry? Got the beginnings of a boner? That's okay, I've got one too-it's half the fun. Ready? 1... 2... 3!'
And with that he thrust down his boxers in one fell swoop, and I followed, milliseconds later.
We stood, awkwardly facing each other feet apart, with our boxers suspended bunched at our knees and our proto-boners pointing generally towards each other. It could have been one of the most awkward experiences of my life had it not been one of the most exhilarating.
James hadn't been kidding-he was taking this seriously. His eyes darted over every part of my dick. Seeing that, my eyes dove in as well.
'Nice dick, dude,' he exclaimed excitedly. He rambled as though he had removed the filter on his stream of consciousness. 'Wow, kind of an unruly bush you've got going there-and darker than I would have expected.' His, in comparison, was trimmed-but not recently-and was golden, matching his hair. 'Nice hairy balls'-his were the same, although his hung decidedly lower than mine. 'Nice shaft'-mine hung perhaps 4 inches in its pre-erect state. His, although roughly the same length, appeared just a bit longer and far fatter, making it look altogether more impressive. He seemed to sense my quick feeling of inferiority and said, reassuringly, 'I'm more of a 'shower' than a 'grower'. Ah, and you're circumcised. Nice big head!' He was being generous-it was at best normal sized. He drew attention back to his own dick, which was seriously uncircumcised. An ample foreskin covered the entirety of his dickhead, with skin to spare. 'Have you ever seen one of these?' he asked, motioning at his foreskin.
'Not in person,' I replied, truthfully. I'd seen some in pornos, but in those cases the dicks were already pretty erect. I'd never seen one semi-flaccid before like this.
'It's really nothing special-I just have more skin than you. See, my dickhead looks just like yours underneath,' he said as he demonstrated by rolling the skin back to reveal his own normally-sized dickhead.
We stepped out of our boxers, discarding them. We stared at one another's dicks for a few more moments, asking questions and demonstrating. As our momentum died down, he exclaimed, 'well, now it's official, we're dick buddies!'
He then turned towards the water and waded in. 'Watch this,' he said. His scrotum had gotten a little more tight, apparently anticipating the cold shock it was about to receive. He waded in until his scrotum was just above the still water, and then dipped it in quickly. It quickly tightened up as his dick shrunk before my eyes. In our giddy horny state, we both found it uproariously funny.
'I wonder which of our dicks will shrink more,' he asked as he submerged himself up to his waist.
I waded in and obliged. After careful observation and consideration we concluded that although my dick was now smaller, his had the greater delta.
We continued our blissful swim, our shriveled dicks making peek-a-boo appearances as we floated on our backs or got close to the shore, for what must have been a half hour.
After a while the coldness began to get more chilling than refreshing, and we both waded out. James found a flat slab of a rock at the water's edge that was positioned perfectly to soak up the rays. We sat down on the rock a few feet away.
'I wonder how long it will take our dicks to sun-dry back to their normal size?' he asked, idly, as we laid back on the rock for a light doze.
'I think I'm pretty much warmed up,' he announced, after a time. I sat up to inspect. He was, indeed. He had maneuvered his shaft so that it was lying idly on his stomach, pointing towards his chest. It was ever so slightly plump, but not obviously so. His balls hung low-lower than I had seen them at the time of the unveiling, and were laying on the rock, positively sweaty.
'Did you leave a sweat mark with your balls' I asked, and he obliged, gathering up his balls in his left hand and lifting them to reveal two ball-shaped moist spots on the rock. Again, we found it uproariously funny.
'You're doing well, yourself,' he said, motioning towards my dick. Indeed, I had mostly de-shriveled, but my dick was nowhere near as impressive as his.
We spent a few minutes considering each other's dicks before lying back on the rock. A few minutes passed-during which James and I adjusted our members more than was strictly necessary, before he piped back up.
'I just want to apologize... normally when I do this hike, I'm alone. Sitting in the sun like this, my dick is used to the routine. It doesn't realize that we've got company.' His dick was definitely swelling-still only partially erect, but well on its way.
My own dick, spurred on by this revelation, was already at half mast. 'It's okay, apparently mine doesn't, either.' A few moments passed as we watched each other swell to a nearly full erection.
'Well,' James said, standing up as though having made a firm decision, 'I guess we'll be boner buddies now, too.' He swatted at his dick, making it bounce down on his balls and then thwack up at his belly before coming to rest point up and at a slight angle, slightly more erect than before.
I stood up as well, and twisted my torso side to side, making my boner thwack back and forth against my hips, coming to a full erection.
I realized that I had been staring at his dick, mesmerized, for a while, and looked up at him. He raised his eyes to meet mine and smiled, before our eyes dove back in. He held his dickhead down with his thumb so his dick pointed straight outwards (and, incidentally, right at my own), straining against the pressure, precum glistening at the tip. I did the same.
'Hey, your dick skin is gone,' I pointed out. He looked at his own dick and explained, 'Nah, it's still there,' as he helpfully pulled it over his dick head and back. It had the effect of spreading out the precum over the entire head, which now glistened in the sun. He pulled the skin back over the head again... and then again and again.
I mimicked the actions on my own dick, and said, 'It's less effective without the foreskin.' We laughed, but continued the 'demonstration.'
A few seconds passed. 'We might as well be wanking,' I pointed out.
'Yeah. Screw it, if we're going to do it, we may as well do it properly,' he said as he turned to his backpack. As he walked, his dick smacked furiously against his thighs. He returned a few seconds later with lotion.
'I guess you had an idea this would happen?' I asked with a smile.
'Well, I figured that there was a small chance that it would, and in any case I could sneak off at night and cum on a tree somewhere.'
He uncapped the lotion and squirted a line of it directly on my dick as though applying ketchup to a hotdog. He then slathered up his own and began pumping furiously.
We stood a few feet from one another, our dicks firmly pointed at one another, wanking furiously. My feet and back arched as our eyes were locked on each other's dicks. It was fascinating to watch how he worked his dickhead with his foreskin and the lotion, as I focused attention in a loose grip on my own.
After a few intense minutes, it was clear that we were getting to the edge. The question was where it was polite to shoot. I had never been in this situation; the etiquette escaped me.
'I'm about to cum!' I announced, hoping that the solution would present itself.
As luck would have it, it did. 'Dude, see if you can hit me!' he shouted enthusiastically. That was all the encouragement I needed, and I began to cum furiously. The first spurt shot forth with a speed I had never witnessed-neither from myself, but also never in a porno. It hit him with great force just above his left nipple. The second spurt landed just below his belly button, and the third-I think-landed squarely on his dick.
'Yeeeehaw' he exclaimed, as he pumped furiously and my jizz mixed noisely with the lotion. He came to his own climax just seconds after me. His first shot missed me entirely, but his second and third hit my left thigh. I took my left hand and scooped up his jizz and placed it squarely on my dick and gave a few more pumps as my boner waned. He looked up at me and smiled.
Exhausted, we collapsed on the rock. Minutes later he passed me a rag that was wet with a mix of my cum and his own, and I cleaned myself off. An hour later we were on our way to our campsite for the night.
The whole experience was weird. We were paying intense scrutiny to our dicks, the most sexual parts of our body, and yet the whole thing felt not in the least romantic. Penises were just parts of our body that felt good, and we were exploring them together. There was no danger of him leaning in for a kiss-although we were playing around with the very same things our girlfriends would and exciting the very same physical feelings, this was without any kind of romantic feeling at all. We were just playing with the parts that we both had that felt nice to play with.
Our first experience was by no means our last on that trip. Indeed, the whole thing could more properly be described as a continuous celebration of the dick.
We kept our dicks in our pants for maybe ten minutes after leaving the beach. Within minutes James called out to me, 'hey, look over here'. He had pulled his penis out of his fly and contorted it into some twisted shape. I, of course, immediately followed suit. After a couple of minutes we had run out of 'clever' shapes, and just left our dicks hanging out of our flies for the remainder of the hike. It was silly and pointless, but it felt good to be so free and open.
When we arrived at our campsite for the night, the first thing James did-after dropping his pack-was to drop trou. He left his shirt on, but his dick, which was hanging quite low due to the heat of the hike, dangled pendently as he started to set up the campsite. He looked kind of funny with his shirt on and no pants. It wasn't even like he was a naturalist, vying to not have any clothes hiding his skin at all. He just wanted his dick out in the open. I pulled off my own pants, as well, but also my shirt. It was kind of funny to see how awkwardly our dicks dangled as we went about setting up the campsite-normally their movement would have been seriously encumbered by pants and underwear, but here they swung freely and obviously. In every operation we performed, our dicks, with their crazy, attention-grabbing swinging, took center stage.
After we had gotten our campfire going, we sat on opposite sides of the fire, our dicks positioned for clear viewing. It was here that we asked exploratory questions and recounted the history of our penises. We had both started beating off around the same age. We had both been masturbation fiends in our adolescence, and we both kept up the habit despite rewarding physical relationships with our girlfriends. It was funny to see which questions were on the table. James described in lurid detail the first time he had beaten off in front of another guy, but seemed loathe to reveal any details about his romantic relationships with his girlfriends except the highest-level details. It was like the things we did with our penises were fun and meaningless in some sense. In contrast, the things we did with our girlfriends were things that mattered: things that had no place in a tell-all session at a campfire. It underscored the odd scenario we found ourselves in: hyper-sexualized dick play with a complete absence of any romantic undertones.
In the course of our discussion, we naturally developed raging hard ons-a fact that was not lost on either of us.
'How long are you when you're hard?' he asked.
'I don't know-I haven't measured recently. I think I'm pretty much average-maybe 6 inches? How about you?'
'I'm not sure either.' A pause. 'I don't know about you, but I want to know which one of us is bigger.'
Of course I did as well, and so we set about trying to figure out how to determine which one of us was bigger. Neither of us had brought a ruler, and we decided that any marks on some straight edge was doomed to failure because we had no means to mark them.
'How about this. We're trying to figure out who's bigger, right? The actual absolute measurement doesn't matter as much.' I nodded in agreement. 'How about this.' He paused, as if unsure. 'We both hold out our hard ons straight, and then we put them next to each other.' He paused again, and checked my reaction. I was game. 'We'd have to stand really close, but then whoever's dickhead touches the other guy's belly must be longer.'
I considered it. This was clearly not the best or easiest or least awkward option to determine who was longer. But this was a way to take our dick play to the level beyond jizzing on one another. As long as we both pretended like it was the only workable option, we could do it without it being just a bald-faced way for us to get our dicks to touch.
'Okay,' I added, after a pause. 'I can't think of any other way, so I guess we'll have to.'
James took his thumb at his dick root and pushed it down so his dick pointed straight out. I did the same. We walked slowly towards each other, inching closer and closer. There was a kind of electricity between the two dicks. I half expected that when they finally touched there would be some kind of explosion. Our hearts were both beating loudly enough to be mutually audible.
We inched closer and closer, and finally our two dicks came side to side. We both gasped audibly. We pushed slowly closer until his dick head touched my belly. We pushed on an imperceptible distance and mine touched his. We were both a similar length, although his was clearly wider.
We rested there, enjoying the monumental feeling of our cocks cosmically connected. Although my hand wasn't douching his dick, it was mere millimeters away. It was a crazy experience, completely unlike anything I'd ever done before.
We looked up to each other's eyes at the exact same moment and I swear that we both had the same goofy, shit-eating grin on our faces. And then, before I could react, he did something I wasn't expecting. He pulled his dick away from mine, and then brought it back against it in a hard smack. Our hands still hadn't touched the others dicks. But it was clear what was in his mind: a sword fight.
I grabbed my dick root and swung my dick with as much force as I could muster. A thundering smack resounded as my cock struck his. The sword fight had begun.
Although the game was ostensibly some kind of fight, the whole scenario was clearly designed as a feeble excuse for us to rub our dicks together. In the beginning of the contest, we'd take well-ordered turns, with me waiting as he lined up and landed a devastating smack or double smack, and then me returning the favor.
After a handful of back-and-forths, I mixed it up by carefully aiming my dick and parrying his low-hanging balls. His return was less forceful and effectively amounted to him just rubbing his shaft back and forth amongst my balls and sack. Before too long it became clear that the real rules were that we were allowed to fondle each others' cocks in any way we pleased so long as our hands didn't deliberately make contact with the other's dick. Our boners became effectively just some kind of fondling instrument, no different than a stick-albeit one packed with horny energy. At one point he positioned his shaft below my balls and then flexed his boner rhythmically, alternatively lifting and then lowering my balls.
After a few minutes James had fetched the lotion and, through a liberal application to his own boner, had, after a couple of rounds had passed, effectively lubed up my own just as effectively.
One particularly long attack ended up morphing into an extended bear hug, us grinding our cocks and balls together in the space between our bodies. We carefully kept our heads turned to the side, as if to send a clear signal that we were mutually uninterested in any kind of interaction of our mouths, and the embrace was always a bit more 'bear' than 'hug', emphasizing a physical challenge rather than any kind of embrace. But the fact remained that we were effectively humping each other's dicks.
As we both got closer to cumming, the contest devolved into frantic wanking of our own cocks in close proximity, our dickheads running into the belly of the other every few strokes, our furiously pumping hands grazing the nearby cock of the other nearly constantly. As we came, we rubbed the cum from our exploding cock heads into the other's pubic hair, making it matted and sticky and wet.
We collapsed to the ground, panting. I got up to grab a cum rag, but James protested, insisting that we leave the cum to dry in place.
After a bit of rest, we fixed our dinner-it had completely passed our mind in our earlier horny frenzy-and wolfed it down. Over dinner I casually asked if he'd ever had a sword fight before, and he replied that he hadn't. This was breaking new ground for both of us, apparently.
We rested and talked about random topics for a time, but of course with our dicks right there, the conversation inevitably returned to the weekend's core topic.
This time we focused on foreskins, a topic that I knew little about, other than the fact that I didn't have one but desperately wanted one. James patiently explained the pros and cons, how he went about cleaning it, and the reaction his current girlfriend had had upon seeing it for the first time.
I was most fascinated by the copious amount of skin he had. 'Watch this,' he said, as he rolled the skin back, placed the index finger at the tip of his dick, and then rolled the skin back over, enclosing the tip of his finger. We again found this uproariously funny, and spent many minutes trying to figure out the biggest objects he could fit in his foreskin.
I was incredulous as to where the copious folds of skin went when he rolled the skin back. He assured me it was quite simple, and demonstrated it multiple times. Then he said something that I didn't expect.
'Do you want to try it?'
In retrospect it seems totally silly that it seemed like a big deal at the time. We had smashed and clashed our dicks together in every conceivable way. It was basically a historical accident that I hadn't yet taken deliberate hold of his dick.
I demured. 'Come on,' he implored, with the utmost in confidence, making it seem like it was no big thing. 'Give my foreskin a whirl.'
I timidly agreed and moved over closer to him.
'Although I can't guarantee that it will stay flaccid for long, once you start on it,' he said with a wink.
I reached out and deliberately grabbed hold. Although we were both-at least at that very moment-mostly flaccid, I still felt an electric jolt as my hand made contact. I gingerly rolled the foreskin back and then front.
'Go ahead, roll it over your finger!'
I placed my finger at the tip of his dick and then rolled it back over. It felt really funny, and I explored the inside with my finger, getting a sense for how elastic the skin was. Of course, all of this activity at the tip of his dick was starting to awaken it.
'Okay, you don't get to have all of the fun,' he said, as he reached over and very deliberately cupped my dick and balls in his hand. We explored each other's rapidly-enlarging dicks with our hands with almost child-like curiosity.
As his dick reached full-mast, I held it down and then released it, causing it to smack against his belly.
'Hey, I've got an idea,' he exclaimed, jumping to his feet. 'You can't have your own foreskin, but I can't give you the next best thing.' He grabbed my dick and aligned it so our dickheads were touching. He then very carefully unrolled his foreskin, covering the very tip of my own dickhead. We shuddered as we beheld the sight of our dicks joined as one.
Of course, we couldn't stand all of that horny energy for long, and we quickly broke the set-up apart so we could begin furiously wanking on the other's dick.
He walked over to get some lotion, and when he came back he came right up to me, and laid my dick and his, side to side, in his open palm. He squeezed in a liberal amount of lotion and clasped his other hand over the whole thing, and we began to hump the living daylights out of each other's dicks.
As we got farther along, the whole thing devolved into us just wanking away furiously on one another's dicks, every so often pressing the dickheads together and rubbing them until we just couldn't stand it any more.
I announced I was ready to come, and he brought his dick up to mine and held his foreskin over my dick head (or at least, he tried to), so that when I finally exploded my cum collected at his dickhead and made frantic slurping noises and oozed out the side. His ejaculation came mere seconds after mine, and our jizz mixed in a slimy mess inside his foreskin.
At this point we were both utterly spent, and climbed into the tent and collapsed until some time in the mid morning.
We stayed one more night on that hiking trip, and I can assure you that we engaged in every kind of dick play you can name (excepting those involving mouths or asses), and came probably 3 or 4 more times each. The details have all blended together in my mind, but I can tell you that it was by far the horniest experience of my life.
Interestingly, as soon as we got back in the car on our way back to the city, all hints of our dick play evaporated. There were no winking references, no innuendoes. For all anyone would ever know, we had had a straight-forward camping trip.
Over the next few months, up until the time that James ultimately moved on to another job in another city, James and I would engage in more dick play whenever the opportunity presented itself organically, but never go out of our way to get something to happen. It was ultimately true what James had originally said about dick buddies; somehow it helped me understand him better and I came to value him as a true friend, even when a new bout of dick play wasn't on the agenda.