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One summer evening.

Posted by: SoloTouchArchive Author: admin Posted on: 08 May 1998 1 comments
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One summer evening. by OrsonHere is my one and only mutual masturbation experience.When I was fourteen, I had a friend with whom I used to ride dirt bikes(still a continuing vice) and he asked me to stay the night at his houseduring the summer.His father had died when he was young and had left he and his motherwith an enormous house. His mother would go to bed early and leave uswith the cavernous basement all to ourselves.We stayed up and talked about the typical teenage subjects until it cameto puberty. We complained about the newly arrived problem of acne. Thenhe asked me if I had any hair around my cock yet. I said yeah, but not alot. He said he had a little too.We were sitting on opposing twin beds in our t-shirts andtighty-whities. He asked if I would show him my hair. I hemmed andhawed and he said hed show me his. Before I could object, he droppedhis briefs revealing a semi-hard adolescent cock. Its light pink shaftand sack was ringed by a halo of what looked like long peach fuzz. Hesaid lets see yours. So I dropped my briefs.As I was farther along in my puberty, my cock was much larger than his(an effect enhanced by the fact that I was partially hard as well.) andI had a ring of dark brown hair around it. (I was relieved that I wasbigger than he was, a fact that instantly relaxed me.) He said Man, yougot a hairy one.Then he asked if I ever jacked off. I said yes. An obvious nextquestion because our cocks were both standing fully erect. So do I heresponded. He broke his stare at my dick by looking down and strokinghis dick. He had his cock gripped in an OK sign and he was strokingthe thumb-sized head in short, slow strokes.As I was a bit self-conscious, I leaned back on the bed and pointed mycock to the ceiling and stroked my whole shaft. After a while, I sat upto see how he was doing. He was beating like there was no tomorrow. Hisfist was a blur on his now deep pink shaft. His balls were bouncing upand down like mad underneath his furious assault. He told me he wasgoing to come. His hairless ball sack constricted into what looked likea little pink walnut and began bucking and jerking but nothing came out.I guess he was too young to squirt.But I wasnt. The sight of his orgasm got me started. I shorten mystroke to concentrate on the head and rubbed it furiously. I groaned andshot my load. The first white, ropey jet was powerful enough to bridgethe gap between the beds and land on his thigh. The next three or foursquirts landed on the linoleum below.He got a little freaked out by my gift and I got a shy - thepost-orgasmic thing, you know - and pulled up my shorts. He studied thestring of come on his thigh and then wiped it off with a tube sock.We both giggled nervously and the went to bed without saying much. Wenever discussed it again. A pity, really.I really liked the experience but it was filled with a lot adolescenthang up bullshit. Too dang bad, I would liked to have tried it again andgot comfortable with the whole deal. Cest la vie.Orson.