My affection for my neighbor friend grew as I entered my teen years, these are warm, fond memories of my confusing early adolesence. I hope Jake was OK with our relationship; we never discussed it even though as good Catholic boys we shared forbidden affection for several years.
Rather than retell my history, you can refer to the two stories linked above. One happened a couple years before this one; the other happened a couple years after this story I'm about to tell took place. Let's just say that I was a very confused young guy, extremely curious about sex and far more interested in other boys than in girls: though I was horrified by the realization of this and loathe to admit that it could possibly be more than a passing phase on my journey to becoming a 'normal', straight man.
This particular story happened in the summer between ninth and tenth grade. It was about 1976, and I would have been newly 15 years old. It involved me and my neighborhood friend Jake, whom I had been friends with since we were both in elementary school. Jake was a grade behind me in school and at 13 was a year and a half younger than me. He was small in stature, slightly barrel- chested but slim and fair, with sparking aqua blue eyes. Jake was an Irish-Catholic boy, an excellent musician and a good student. He was quiet and generally agreeable to whatever the group wanted to do. In short, he was easy to be around, and everybody liked him. His hair was the color of corn silk, cut thick and like a bowl so that when he tossed his head his hair parted and shifted, moving so you could see many different and darker shades of blond layered beneath. In the front, his bangs curiously grew so they flipped up and they would bob up and down when he walked.
Up till just before this summer, Jake had been decidedly pre-pubescent. I had a curious affection for him, a new feeling to me then that I'd now describe as puppy love. I liked to be near him alone whenever I could. We would run a lot and sometimes wrestle (though I was somewhat bigger), play kickball, football and baseball and other semi-roughhousing sports. When we would finally rest, Jake would be flushed and damp and rosy-cheeked. His sweat smelled sweet and just a little musky, and he didn't seem to mind my closeness as we rested next to each other on the grass, and didn't even seem to mind if I occasionally held his hand as long as this was done discretely out of view.
The summer was new, and Jake had sprouted a little taller and his muscles had started to appear, but only if you were looking closely like I was. After our roughhousing exercise a little sweat would bead up on his upper lip, trapped by the blond peach fuzz that was newly growing there. Jake's cheeks were still smooth and fair, and flushed easily. His voice had grown just a bit husky but it had not dropped an octave yet. Few people would have noticed these signs of puberty, but I did and it was satisfying for me to watch him grow and to be close to him when we were together.
Jake had a telescope, and he was very interested in the moon and the stars. He was always reading things like Popular Science and talking about the constellations and the phases of the moon. Walking past his house at sunset, just down the street from mine, summer evenings would often find him setting up his telescope in his side yard waiting for the darkness to fall. I didn't have much interest in standing around looking at the stars, but Jake's interest in them made me curious, too. Walking past him one evening on my way through the neighborhood he saw me and cried out 'Hey come over! Want to look at the moon? It's going to be a full moon tonight!' I stopped and chatted a bit. I was on my way somewhere else, but I was pleased to see my friend so cheerful.
'I am busy now', I said. 'But if you are still out later I might stop by'
'Neat!' he said, and he smiled. 'It's going to be a good night to look at the stars!'
I went on my way, but made a mental note to pass back this way on my way home later to see if Jake was still out.
It was probably close to ten o'clock when I headed home. Being summer, life was unhurried and relaxed. I was a good boy and my parents trusted me, and so as long as I was home by 11, everything was OK. As I walked past Jake's house I saw him, still there and silhouetted in the moonlight in a secluded spot beside his house, intently peering into the telescope. I approached him quietly, and as he turned and saw me, his face broke into an immediate smile.
'You came back! Hey, look at this!' He stepped aside, motioning to the telescope. I looked into the eyepiece and saw an awesome sight-the moon lit up in amazing color and clear detail like I had never seen it before.
'Wow!', I breathed in awe. 'That is so cool'
Jake beamed with pride. He had saved his money for a long time to buy the instrument and was glad to have another appreciate his passion.
'It has a motor drive too.' He chirped. 'You can set it so that it follows the moon as it moves in the sky'. The moon moves? I had never thought of that! As I looked back into the eyepiece I noticed that in just a few minutes' time the moon had indeed moved so that it now only half filled the view in the eyepiece.
'How does that work?' I asked
'I don't exactly know', he admitted, 'But I have the book here and we can try to figure it out.'
Jake had a flashlight and we looked at the technical instructions that were filled with tables and charts with complicated degree markings. This didn't look like much fun at all to me, but Jake was excited by the idea, so I agreed to help him try to make it work. He took the book and held the flashlight and read me the steps as I crouched in front of him.
'Loosen the knurled knob so that the degree scale is able to move freely' he read. I did as he instructed. 'Now, look through the eyepiece and set the indicator marking to the zero point, and retighten the knurled knob.' I did this too.
He read me line after line and I squinted in the darkness trying to follow his instructions. At one pause, I sat down and looked up at him, just to drink him in. He was standing so close to me, peering intently at the book. He was wearing pale blue and well-worn cutoff Levis as shorts, and some of the loose strings hung down on his legs. I glanced at his legs, and I was so close that I could see the tiny fuzzy blond hairs on them, from his knees to the tops of his striped athletic socks. I reached out to touch his legs and caressed them gently and found them smooth and soft. He didn't seem to notice or mind at all. Looking up I could see his face, intent with concentration as he tried to understand the complex book.
I had always felt very much at ease being close with Jake. A couple of years prior, when we were both in junior high, me 13 and him 11, I had learned that the little guy didn't seem to have any inhibitions about having his body explored by me. We'd sit in the basement rec room at my house on the threadbare sofa, watching mindless cartoons or reruns of the Six Million Dollar Man on TV. Jake might sleepily lean against me and I could feel him breathing and I sometimes held his hand. One day as he cuddled near me, I began to casually feel his legs, then after a while slipped my hand under his t-shirt to feel his tummy. Jake didn't complain a bit, and kept his eyes focused on the TV screen across the room. Slipping my hand down the outside of the front of his pants, I allowed my fingers to come to rest lightly on his crotch where I silently felt his small soft bulge. Still he said nothing.
Partly to make sure he wasn't sleeping I whispered, 'Move your leg a little', and he complied immediately, parting his knees so my fingers had better access and could travel down below to feel his soft balls through the cloth, and then touch that sensitive secret area below.
Wow! I reeled. This was cool. I always liked the sensation of Jake snuggled up close to me, and holding his hand made me feel really happy, though I wouldn't have wanted the other guys to know I did it. And now I had learned that he didn't seem to have any hang ups about me touching the rest of him, including his private parts, at least through his clothes.
One TV show ended and another began, and Jake made no effort to leave. Heart beating a little faster, I pulled a thick afghan blanket that my grandmother had knitted from the back of the couch towards us. In one motion I threw the blanket over Jake and watched him wiggle his toes as it settled over his feet. Reaching under the blanket, I worked the buttons on his pants, opening them, and then pushed down his zipper. I felt his body warmth through his jockey shorts. He was decidedly immature, and his sex organs were soft and small. Finally, reaching inside his underpants I felt his soft warm penis for the first time. He made no objections as I pushed my hand deeper, shifting slightly and making room for my hand as it cupped his tiny balls.
With no hurry, I explored him from head to toe in silent ecstasy for the next hour or so, sometimes pausing to smell his hair and to quietly kiss the top of his blond head. I felt his ribs through his chest and traced his concave nipples and then his stomach, still covered with its thin layer of prepubescent baby fat. I explored his underarms and found them damp, smooth and soft. He was velvet from head to toe. A couple of times I peeked under the blanket just to see his tiny, sleepy penis as it rested on his abdomen, all wrinkly and pink. He was beautiful to me.
Finally my mother called down the stairs that it was dinnertime. Jake casually straightened up his clothes, tucked in his shirt and got ready to go home. He acted as though having one's body explored nakedly all over by a friend was perfectly normal and wholly expected and he showed no remorse or concern as he gathered up his things. 'Bye Jake.' I said. 'See you later?'
' 'K, later' said Jake. And he went ahead of me, up the basement stairs and through the kitchen. I head my mother say 'Hello Jake. It is good to see you!' I was so excited that only then did I notice the bulge in my own pants and how electrically wonderful it felt to me as I rubbed against it. At just 13, I was not far into puberty, I guess, and I remember going into the nearby bathroom to wash up for dinner and instead masturbating to a quick and overdue sticky climax-which took less than a minute. I washed up and went to the dinner table in a sort of a daze.
I was remembering this earlier innocent, satisfyingly romantic contact as I crouched next to Jake and his telescope that summer night more than two years later. Examining his legs so close to me, I reached out and with my fingertips to caress the blond hairs on his calves and shins, finding them soft and downy. Then, moving my hand upwards, I let my fingertips brush against the softness of his crotch, which was situated right next to my eyes where I sat. Jake's eyes never moved away from his book. He made no move to stop me, as my fingertips continued seemingly of their own will, cautiously probing the softness of his crotch through the thin fabric of his well-worn Levis. I could feel that he had grown there; that the tiny package I had explored under the blanket a couple of summers before had filled out and grown decidedly larger.
Jake made no move to resist as I slipped my hand up underneath his loose T-shirt from below. I felt his shallow belly button and noted that while his chest was still smooth and hairless, the layer of baby fat had disappeared. He smelled softly musky as my arm moved the night air through the folds of his t-shirt. Looking up at his face it seemed he was still intent on the book, though I imagined he had moved his arms almost imperceptibly so I could have better access to his bare skin.
I moved my hands back down his torso to his crotch and felt his soft bulge again. He shifted his weight and parted his legs just slightly where he stood. Boldly unbuttoning his beltless shorts, I lowered his zipper and allowed his pants to drop freely to the ground. Right before my face was his handsome boy crotch shining in its white cotton package before me in the moonlight. Without hesitation, I reached inside at the waistband and pulled downwards until his beautiful penis popped free inches from my face.
He was so beautiful. I looked up at him, and while he still held the book in front of him, his eyes were now closed. I returned my gaze to his cock and was excited to see it nestled in a bed of wispy blond hair. It was soft and relaxed, and Jake made no move to stop me as I explored. He smelled slightly spicy and wonderful. I pushed my face against his genitals, and buried my nose in his golden curls. I tasted him just a little.... I was in heaven as I sucked him deeply into my mouth- but only for a moment. He tasted clean and fresh, but remained decidedly soft, just like that time watching TV years before.
'Jake, can you make it hard?' I asked quietly, really afraid that I'd break the mood and he'd put a stop to this activity right away. Instead, I suppose he was waiting for my permission or instructions on what to do next, because almost immediately I felt the change starting to happen. He began to grow stiffer and longer with each throbbing heartbeat. From an inch or two away I gazed at his beautiful boyish penis as it slowly thickened and lengthened under my gentle touch and before my eyes.
I kneeled and leaned back on the ground with my legs folded beneath me. I wanted to see every moment of this and remember it forever. His flushed cock jutted stiffly out from his body, hardly five inches long but as stiff as a ten-penny nail. I began to slowly fondle it from tip to base, feeling him jerk just a little each time my fingers danced over the head. I looked up again and saw that his mouth had fallen slightly open as his breath came from there in soft quiet gasps.
My own cock ached in my pants. I had certainly not planned this side activity for my trip home, but now in the midst of it I felt like I was in heaven and didn't ever want to stop.
I continued my rhythmic stroking, pausing only to reach in inside my trousers to rearrange my own throbbing boyhood as it pressed uncomfortably and stiffly against my leg. I would have liked to give it relief, but my full attention was on Jake now. He was my gentle friend and for this moment he was mine to love. My stroking continued and Jake began to twitch. I was startled as something bumped sharply against my back and fell noisily onto the ground beside me. Looking over I realized that Jake had dropped the telescope book he was holding from his grasp, and was now completely lost in his pleasure as his hands quivered at his sides.
Filled with affection for him and lost in fantasy of my own, I kneeled inches from his nakedly exposed most private parts, and intently watched how his body responded to my touch. Jake had innocently surrendered to me and was prepared to let me control his immediate destiny. He was going to let me make him come.
I continued my gentle but purposeful rubbing while staring intently at him in the moonlight. The telescope stood forgotten in front of us and I heard Jake groan-just a little. Then his cock jerked in my hand and suddenly I was flooded with his boy cum, soft gushes coming one after another. Jake wasn't a shooter, so his sweet cum soaked my hand and wrist while some of it fell on the ground.
'Ooooooh' he moaned softly. He stood silently with his hard wet penis jutting before him. Though we never talked about our personal sex experiences before, I assume that as a 13 year old he must have masturbated before and that this wasn't his first time to come, nevertheless I was surprised at the amount of sperm that had come from him.
'Gosh Jake!' I said in a soft whisper, trying to break the tension. 'You sure came a lot! That was really cool!!' I could not resist leaning forward and taking his penis in my mouth just one more time. I had never tasted another boy's cum before and I was surprised at the sort of tangy, salty taste it left on my tongue. I sucked for just a moment softly on his softening member, happy beyond words that my neighbor friend allowed me to be so close and intimate with him. 'I better go home now', I said.
'I need to go inside too before I get in trouble for being out too late', he said.
Looking around us for the first time, I realized how exposed we were to the neighbors in the bright moonlight that bathed us. Oblivious to the world in our irresponsible boyish passion, I wonder if anyone had seen us there in the yard doing what we had done. Almost euphoric with my daring, I helped Jake pull up his pants, whispered a hasty 'Bye!' and sprinted the few houses back to my door.
Going straight to the bathroom I blinked in the blinding brightness of the indoor lights. I think I loved Jake and I wondered what he was feeling about me right now. I hoped he was as happy inside as I was feeling, and I looked at my right hand, still coated wetly with his fresh sperm. It was thick and shiny, bubbly and white. Without thinking, I gave into my passion and slowly licked some of it off, enjoying its forbidden salty but slightly fishy fresh taste. Then, grasping my own newly exposed erection with my same wet hand, I jerked it until I came, only seconds later, mixing my creamy sperm with Jake's all over.
Readers of my last story know that I have a hard time with happy endings. My ongoing romantic affection for Jake should have been ample evidence that I wasn't very straight at all. As for Jake, I am not sure what he felt. He quickly became interested in girls and sexually active with a girlfriend, though his occasional encounters with me didn't stop till high school ended. I never discussed his sexuality with him, and it's probably just as well. If he had told me that he had feelings for me, I probably would have freaked out and rejected him too, as I worked diligently to publicly cultivate my image as a straight and tough boy.
After this incident, our occasional ongoing intimate sessions were just like the others; he and I alone watching movies or listening to music until my hands began to wander and his clothes easily came off. Sometimes in the midst of the undressing, and as he surrendered what was about to happen, he would ask me if anyone was home, to make sure the door was shut, if I thought we should go somewhere more private, or asked me if I had a Penthouse he could look at (I did, and I would give him one, but the thought of him needing to look at naked women while I jacked him off made me feel a sharp knife of sadness). As time went by, I also began to jerk off myself with my free hand at the same time as I did him, and he sometimes asked me if I wanted to be rubbed by him. 'What about you?' he'd ask quietly. I agreed, and while I enjoyed the touch of his strange, warm hand on my cock, I could tell by his lack of rhythm and enthusiasm that he wasn't into it the way I was. I always relieved him and finished the job myself.
As he grew, Jake lost his blond hair as it darkened through his teenaged years till no traces of his layered bowl-cut remained. We still participated in some of the same group activities, and I was always secretly pleased as the hour grew late and the others went home, Jake would often choose to linger behind till it was just he and I left together. If we were in a private place, this was my chance to go over to where he was, put my arms around him and silently hold him close, to which he never objected. To this day I am not sure how he felt about my private displays of affection for him. Maybe he was lonely, maybe he was attracted to me, and maybe he just had no hang-ups about sex at all. I suspect he liked me and trusted me, and decided that if I wanted to make love to him that it would just be a part of our relationship and he didn't mind. At least that's how I hope he felt. He made himself available to me, but I was always the initiator.
It was just as well we never discussed our relationship, of course. Jake would have just been in my way as I continued my impossibly blind quest of becoming a straight, normal guy, a goal I would not be denied by anyone.