World Cup Friend

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After a long time without a friend to masturbate with, at last I felt a cock stiffen in my hand.


When I was younger, my friend showed me how to masturbate, and we jacked off together until we were thirteen. In high school, a friend and I would go to his house after school, listen to music, and play with our cocks, and each others. In my junior year of college, a buddy and I jacked off together after a party, and soon we were jacking together at least once a week. The feel of another's cock in my hand became a regular experience.

If it was up to me, I would be jacking off with someone every day, but I'm shy and not the type that would just meet someone on the net and play with their cock-all my masturbation buddies have been friends before we masturbated each other. When I finished college and moved into a place in the city, I really hoped to meet someone who liked to jo, but I didn't know if it would happen.

Well, it did. I work in a large company that covers a few different buildings. I go to one other building fairly often, and during the World Cup, I happened to be there when some of the guys there were talking about the games coming up. I stopped to talk, and guy Bill, whom I'd seen around, invited guys to his place to watch one of the games on his flat screen. He looked up and invited me, too.

Turns out he doesn't live far from me, about eight blocks. I went over for the game, and walking over there I felt horny. I didn't know why, but I felt like when I'd go to visit my buddy in college, walking through campus knowing I was going to masturbate with him for the evening. It's a special kind or hornyness.

Anyway there were four other guys there. Bill's place was modern, light, and very clean, and on the walls he had some very beautiful and tasteful erotic photographs, in black and white, of both men and women, as well as sports. Watching the game was fun, I stuck around a little after, and Bill invited me for any of the games, or, he said, 'just to have some pizza and 'fool around'.' Walking home, the words struck me like fire, and as soon as I got in the door, I was peeling off my clothes to jack off.

There was another game in three days time, and for those next three days my mind was completely consumed with fantasies about masturbating in Bill's apartment. At times I was sure it would happen. At other times, I thought I was crazy to even think that. I imagined what kind of underwear he wore, and what his cock looked like. I wondered what his hand would feel like holding mine. And I thought I was completely off base, and told myself over and over to be careful, not to make a fool out of myself (as I once did) by asking the wrong person if they wanted to masturbate with me.

The game was at ten in the morning. I was literally shaking when I pressed his buzzer. When went inside, Bill was the only one there. My heart started pounding, but we talked as if others were coming. The game began, and it was just the two of us there. My head was spinning, and I hardly remember the game. Bill was in shorts, and I thought that he sometimes grew semi-erect, but then I thought it was my imagination. At one time, I got a hard on, and then struggled to hide it, while at the same time I was dying to show it.

When the game was over, Bill offered to heat up some pizza for lunch. I got up the nerve to ask him about the photos on his walls. 'A friend took them,' he said. 'That one is me,' and he pointed to a dark picture showing smooth loins, a thick mat of dark hair, and a thick, slightly erect cock, slightly wet by a drop of precum.

God knows what I said, something clever like 'wow', I'm sure-I certainly don't remember. But in a few minutes I was telling him about masturbating with my friend in college, blurting out the whole story, not waiting for his reaction, telling him about how we met after dates, to get each other off a second time, about going to nude beaches together, laying out hard in the sun, about spending whole days edging and stroking each all came out.

Bill listened and listened. And listened. When I finally slowed down, he just said, 'do you want to masturbate together?'

When Bill got up from the table, his cock was poking his shorts. He stripped them off, and his tee-shirt, too, was tossed away. He went out to the living room and spread out on the couch. I watched him, stunned that this was really happening. I remember feeling clumsy as I unlaced my shoes and got out of all my clothes. I sat in a chair facing him.

He stroked himself gently, enjoying the excitement. I was stiff and throbbing and almost ready to cum, but I wasn't paying much attention. My mind was on Bill's cock, stiff and thick and large; very straight, with a perfectly shaped helmet. It had been two hears since I had held a cock, even seen another cock, and I was completely lost in watching him.

The next I knew, I was kneeling by the couch and gently stroking his cock. At first Bill watched and gently moaned, then he fell back, his loins opening to show his full, large sack and balls, his eyes closed. I concentrated on his pleasure. I brought him to the edge, and then relaxed. Again, enjoying the smooth, velvet warmth of him in my hand, brought him to total stiffness, now precum oozing all the time, and relaxed again, letting his cock loose, and stroking his balls, his thighs, and between his legs. Finally, I felt him begin to tense, stiffen, his stomach first, then his thighs, and his cock raised up as his buttocks clenched. I was stroking him long and hard and fast now, he smelled of precum, and he started to writhe as he crossed over the edge, and the waves of orgasm began to rise from his loins until I felt his cock begin to burst, pulsing, completely hard, and then stronger than my hand, pumping cum all over him, and my hand, and into my hair, sticky and warm.

Bill told me to sit on the couch, our legs wrapped and cocks almost touching, and he began to stroke me. His hands were soft and gentle, his fingertips playing with my balls, the sides of my shaft, my thighs and belly. I was stiff and dripping precum, but Bill took his time, not holding my cock, but teasing and playing, until I relaxed and gave myself over to his touch. I don't know how long he played with me, I knew I didn't want him to stop, and then, uncontrollably my cock swelled and hardened and spazims of energy coursed through me and cum shot as far as it has ever from my cock.

We've been masturbating together regularly, whenever we both have the urge, which is often. About a month ago, the photographer who's pictures are on Bill's walls came and joined us for an afternoon, naked, taking pictures of our hands on each other's cocks, and stroking himself after we'd both cum, eyes glazed and lost while he took himself to orgasm.



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