Spin the Bottle Masturbation

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The story about spin-the-bottle brought back memories of our own games when I younger, when my friend Bobby would talk some girls into coming to his bedroom when his mom wasn't home, and risking kissing and being kissed by him and me.



Very little happened DURING those games with the girls, but Bobby and I used to masturbate together excitedly while we plotted which girls we would invite, and talked about seeing their underwear, touching and kissing them. In his bedroom after school and on sleep-overs, we'd lie next to each other in matching twin beds and stroke ourselves as we each told wilder and more exciting tales of what would happen when the girls came.



Far from being disappointed by our relatively chaste encounters with the girls, they were fuel for even more intense masturbation in the days and weeks that would follow an encounter.



The girls would always have to flee nervously, to explain to waiting mothers why they were so late coming home, and the minute the girls left, Bobby and I would strip to show each other our twitching boners and rub ourselves to immediate orgasms telling each other over and over the highlights of our 'intimacy' with the girls.



Finally, one girl, the day after playing with us, and without the other girls around, said she knew that we both probably masturbated 'all the time' and demanded to watch us. Bobby, ever the young operator, got her to agree to show us her breasts (she was one of the first of our class to bloom into a real bra) in return.



We could not wait until a 'free' afternoon at Bobby's house, and instead, that very day after school, took her to our special hiding place in the bushes near the school, where we kept lube, girly mags and kleenex stuffed in a plastic bag.



Bobby and I were stripped below the waist seconds after we got there, but the girl, Patricia, suffered a sudden bout of shyness, and had to be persuaded all over again. When she finally unbuttoned her blouse and pulled up her bra, I was so stunned by seeing real breasts and her pink, erect, nipples, that I lost my erection.



Not Bobby, who stroked himself quickly to an orgasm, spurting gobs of cum, under Patricia's amazed gaze. Seeing Bobby cum inspired me once again, and to my delight, I had Patricia's full attention while I played with my almost uncontrollable hard-on!



I was trying to keep from cumming (Bobby and I had discovered the pleasures of 'edging' already), and, feeling myself about to go over the edge, I let go of my boner. It was too late, thought, and my little cock began twitching and spurting bits of cum all by itself.



Patricia was awestruck, and to this day, my favorite orgsams are 'hands-off', and I've persuaded several girlfriends to watch me perform for them.

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