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What we did that Sunday afternoon, home alone (3/3, revised)

Posted by: Author: Age: Thirties Posted on: 0 comments
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With thanks to the editor for a second chance to submit, I have made a few revisions to clarify what did not happen in this fantasy based on my own teenage experiences. To the readers who commented asking for the real story, maybe soon.


We hung around the pool until almost 12:30. It felt sexy being in a bathing suit around people, holding inside me the secrets of what Jon and I had just done. Free to entertain any thoughts while sunbathing, I could not get those scenes and images out of my mind. Him and me naked, doing sexy things with each other, was all I could think about.

The sky clouded up and it was time for lunch so we got in the car and drove home. When we reached my house the black clouds were so low you could touch them and it was already spitting rain. Rainy days were my favorite time for cozy masturbation. Often, they were also my extra-horny days. (You remember what that means from the first story.) When I was lucky enough to be home alone on a rainy day, I would have that 'I'm going to beat off' feeling in my stomach. The same feeling I had now.

Still wearing my damp suit, I suppressed shivers while we ate sandwiches. There had been an obvious change in the tenor of our relationship. I am not saying it was anything like the feelings between a boy and a girl. No, nothing like that. But we weren't cussing and calling each other "dumb shit" or "pervert" anymore. The male need for "cover" was gone. We could talk normally and matter of factly. Comfortable-like.

"Rainy days make me want to beat off for hours," I said in a low hoarse murmur. Jon said "Let's get these wet suits off. I'm freezing!" We went to my bathroom, peeled off our suits and dried the damp parts of ourselves. I touched my nipples and felt my penis stirring. Jon was a step ahead of me, already fully erect when he stripped off his suit. "Let's go in my mom's bathroom. Rainy days are extra horny for me," I said plainly. 

We went there and I took the douche equipment out, putting a thin coat of Vaseline on the nozzle just like I did when I was alone. Jon was standing so close to me that his penis tip was brushing against my thigh. I bent halfway over the sink and touched the cool plastic nozzle to the part of me that had taken it so many times before. Jon took took the nozzle from me and slowly worked it into me, not stopping until it was all the way in and his warm fingers were spreading my ass cheeks. When I was penetrated like that, I often played with the image that the hard nozzle in my ass was going up inside the shaft of my penis, making my dick even stiffer. I savoured the notion that my ass and dick were somehow directly connected like that. I stood straight up with him still holding it in me; took some Vaseline and rubbed it on my dick. OHHHHH GOD!!!  That feeling again. 

After a few pleasurable strokes, I stopped and asked Jon what he wanted to do. With the intimacy of him holding the nozzle and the new comfort between us, I was waiting for him to take the hard plastic thing out and put his warm, fleshy thing in. I would have bent over the vanity and let him do me right there in my mom's bathroom, with only her mirror watching us.

I felt sure Jon wanted that too, so I was surprised when he said "Let's get some of your sister's panties and take turns putting them on and taking them off each other." Okay, I thought, I could go there too, having dedicated innumerable sessions to fantasizing about girls in panties. Pussies and asses thinly covered in panties, and smooth, creamy legs disappearing into them.

When the feminine scents of my big sister's room hit me, I knew that was where I wanted to be on a rainy afternoon with Jon. We felt our way through her underwear drawer and pulled silky panties over muscular legs. The panties I chose were black, bikini type, and very tight on me. My dick reached higher than the waistband, poking out for both Jon and me to see. Jon was thinner than me and the pink, lacy panties he picked out fit him better. He had the same embarrassing problem: his dick stuck out at the top so we could both see it. (I will confess to you now that his dick looked quite sexy and irresistible sticking out of those panties!) I moved a step closer and ran my hand down the back of him, the same way I had often fantasized feeling a girl's ass through her panties. My other hand felt where I figured a girl's vagina would be, wanting his ball sac to be the pussy lips I had never yet touched.

Watching me with curiosity, Jon moved even closer and unabashedly FELT ME UP! (Sorry, there is no other term for what he did.) He moved slowly and methodically, warm trembling hands studying every bit of me through the tight, black panties. Somehow this seemed even more erotic and sexual than being felt up naked. I sensed that he really liked my body. 

He guided me back a few steps to sit on the edge of my sister's bed and lay back on the soft duvet. With his hands on the mattress supporting his weight, he laid on top and humped me like he would a girlfriend, his exposed dick head leaving a wet streak on my crotch. I was feeling intoxicated from this twisty brew of dicks and pussies, panties and asses. It was like my familiar fantasies being mixed with exciting new experiences and raw, unknown desires. My mind couldn't hold it!

Standing shoulder to shoulder in front of my sister's full length mirror, we both pulled the waistbands down to expose our erections. I hooked my waistband under my scrotum, the tight elastic pushing my balls up like two firm tits in a push-up bra. It made my penis stand taller and the head flare out more. A tingling sensation went through me.

Jon watched my moves intently, then said "Let me do that for you." I pulled the waistband back up over my balls and cock, and Jon knelt in front of me and paused for a long moment, apparently studying the lines of my hard shaft beneath the thin fabric. I glanced straight down and a saw a puddle of wetness forming over the hole at my tip, magnifying the puffy skin under the surface. Jon drew a deep shaky breath and pulled the elastic away from my belly and down until it hooked under my ball sac. Sliding a hand under my scrotum, he looked up and said "I'm pretending these are the lips of a girl's pussy." With his hand holding my dick up and out of the way, his tongue traced a line between my balls. I guess he imagined he was eating a pussy, running his tongue up and down the slit. Probably something he had fantasized doing with his girlfriend.

Returning the favor I commanded Jon to stand up, knelt in front of him, took both hands to the front of his waistband and pulled it out and down. The allusions to undressing a guy for a blow job were unavoidable; I couldn't shake off the thought. His dick, now freed, practically flopped into my face! Unabashed, I seized the opportunity to study it close and head on. The instant I hooked the tight elastic under his balls, his dick looked thicker and stood higher. I remember admiring the way the head flared out leading to the long smooth shaft and imagining how it would feel going into me. Those thoughts and mental pictures I have masturbated to hundreds of times since!

Something--a shiver or a shudder--went through me! I felt it but didn't know if it meant I was going to put my mouth on him or push myself away from this moment. It rocked me again and I stood up. 

I knew it was time to beat off and cum, but before we did, I wanted to act out one last time the scene of me being fucked. I didn't know when or if I would ever have the chance again. (Jon and his family were moving at the end of summer.) I said bluntly, "If you were going to fuck me now, where and how would we do it?" Surveying the room with new eyes, he queried "Would it have to be in here?" I replied with firm conviction that it would. The very thought of a boy beating off in panties and having his ass fucked, bending over something in a girl's bedroom, was beyond even my wildest fantasies!

He said "Then I think you should bend over your sister's chair." Draping a towel over the back of her chair, I laid over it with my dick pressed hard between my belly and the towel. I had a delicious moment to savour the idea that my sister might have masturbated many times in this very chair, her legs spreading wide and one of both of them hanging over the big, rounded arms. But Jon was close behind me now. In my mind's eye, I could see the elastic still bulging out his balls and dick. His very closeness and the wild anticipation of what could happen next made goosebumps come up all over my body! His dick head went straight between my buns and pressed up against my Vaseline-covered hole. He knew exactly where it was how hard to push so that my mind could take over and imagine the rest. I am telling you, it was tantalizing! It was thrilling! It was tempting! My heart jumped! My legs trembled! The whole surface of my body was hot from the desire that was burning under my skin! I could have cum just being like this!

I am not sure why it didn't happen then. In truth, I believe the sheer intensity took everything out of me. I felt light-headed and needed to lay down, close my eyes, and catch my breath before I could masturbate to orgasm. 

I must have drifted off. A huge clap of thunder rattled me awake. I remember hearing it raining heavily outside. In the dim light barely reaching us from the window, I saw Jon curled up in a fetal position on my sister's furry white rug. As the deluge subsided into a steady shower, we got up, went to the bathroom to pee, and I walked around the house gathering candles to bring back to my sister's room. 

Without a word, we made a circle of them in front of the full length mirror, lighting each one as we set it down. Both of us stepped inside the circle, arranged our girlie underpants exactly as each of us wanted them, and started to stroke ourselves. Jon came first, turning toward me at the last moment to shoot it all down the side of my leg. I came straight ahead of me all over the mirror and my sister's furry rug. There would be some cleaning up to do!

After a shower and what must have been an hour of cleaning and putting things away, we made a frozen pizza and settled down with a movie. 

When our parents got home they filled us in on their trip and asked what we did all weekend. "The pool and movies," I reported. 

There were movies, all right; the memory movies Jon and I had made that weekend. I would watch them in my mind many times in the years to come, reliving and masturbating over my first sexual experiences, with Jon in the summer of '92.



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