Meeting with Jason

Though I'd seen Jason around for some weeks, I'd had no contact with him, save for the odd “Good morning”. Because of the times he went out and in, and his age, and the fact that he rode a bicycle, I'd assumed he was a student. I had, of course, noticed that he was average height and darkly handsome. However, all that changed one sunny Saturday morning.

All that I'm about to relate, by the way, took place almost two years ago. I was in my front garden dead-heading roses when Jason rode by wearing only T-shirt and shorts. We casually waved to each other as he cycled off. In less than ten minutes, he came back, pushing his bicycle. As he drew level with me I called out, “Having problems?”  He replied, “Yes, the chain's jumped off and jammed in the peddle mechanism. I'm not very handy with such things, so I'll have to take it to the cycle repair shop.”

“Oh, no need to do that,” I told him. “I'm quite good with my hands, so bring it into the garden and we'll see what we can do.” I fetched some tools and, examined the bike, and saw the problem straight away. “Your chain was badly adjusted,” I reported.  Adding, “So as soon as you tried to changed gear quickly it shot off the sprocket-wheel. But don't worry, we'll soon fix it.” I did just that, in about twenty minutes. While I was fixing his bike, Jason sat beside me and watched. After I'd finished, I invited him to join me in a beer.
 

He did, and we spent a pleasant hour chatting. I soon learned quite a bit about him, including that he was, indeed as I'd suspected, a 'fresher'; he was also studying Geography. When he eventually left, he said he'd enjoyed our chat and so I invited him to visit me whenever he wished. And he did: during the next two or three weeks, over either coffee or beer, we had many friendly chats. So often did he come, in fact, that I began to wonder if he wanted a deeper relationship.
 

Exactly three weeks to the day that I'd repaired his bike, that deepening came. He cycled up the road that Saturday morning about 9:00am. Over the past three or four evenings, I'd seen him set out similarly, so I guessed he'd planned himself a fitness program. He was away about a couple of hours, and then I saw him returning, but pushing the bicycle. Wondering if he'd had more trouble with it, I went out and asked what the problem was. He replied, “Oh, it's not the bike this time. It's me! My thighs are giving me hell.” (I saw what attractive thighs they were!)
 

I invited him inside to have a drink and, as we sat, I said, “I've noticed that most of this week, you've done a lot of cycling. I suspect therefore that you've done too much too quickly and strained yourself.” He agreed that I was probably right. I then added, “What you need is a massage.” Jason then asked where he could get that. I told him that I would be happy to do it for him. (I was still thinking of those attractive thighs and what there might be at the top of them!) To my surprise, he readily agreed. When I suggested we began immediately, he nodded.
 

I took him to the bedroom, straightened the covers, and spread out a large bath-towel. “You're going to have to take your shorts off,” I told him. “Here's a small towel to cover your private bits if you're shy.”

He replied that he wasn't shy and, without more ado, he kicked off his cycling shoes, his T-shirt, shorts and jockstrap. All were off within seconds. I immediately realized there WAS something special at the top of his eye-catching thighs: his 3” plump and uncut penis, which was neatly covered by a trim foreskin. The skin almost covered the tip of his glans and his small testicles were held tightly against his body. His package was crowned with a neat bush of dark pubic hair which, as of yet, had not produced much of an upward-reaching “snail-trail”.  My guess was that his plump 3”, when properly stimulated, would easily expand and harden to an exciting 6”.
 

I told him to lie on the bed and relax, which he did. He placed his arms over his head and closed his eyes. I dripped olive oil on to each thigh and began to knead, press, and massage – not to say “caress” even! They were indeed attractive young thighs. After some minutes of this, I instructed him to turn over, and I was rewarded with a pair of shapely buttocks, as enticing as his thighs had been. Applying a little more oil to the back of his thighs as well as his tight, dimpled buttocks, I went to work again kneading, pressing and massaging – and, of course, 'caressing! – all that he was presented to me.
 

This treatment I continued for, I would guess, about ten minutes. Then I told him to turn over again on to his back. Imagine my surprise – nay, pleasure! – when I now found myself confronted by a hard, throbbing piece of manhood. It had indeed reached, if not even exceeded, my earlier estimated 6”. There it was: hard, rigid, upward-pointing, and quite appreciably throbbing with each heart-beat! Jason just lay there with, as before, his arms above his head and his eyes closed. I could, however, discern a definite increase in his breathing.
 

For a couple of minutes, I again massaged his thighs but a sixth sense told me that now was the time to make a decisive move. Without giving any warning, I took holds of his penis and gave it an exploratory squeeze; all he did was to gasp slightly! Encourage by this, I began to slide his foreskin back and forth, and, this time, I was rewarded with a groan of pleasure.
 

“Do you like that?” I asked. Jason’s eyes still closed, he nodded his head. So I said, “Do you want me to carry on?” Again, he nodded, except more vigorously this time.
 

My hands were quite oily, so I took a firm hold of his penis and began to 'massage' it. I gave it the “treatment” along the full length of his shaft. I also included his tight testicles and his lower abdomen in my “massage”. I had an enjoyable ten minutes, as did he, of caressing his penis and also the surrounding area. Soon, his breathing became deeper and his whole body became tense, and I realized he was hovering on the brink of climax.
 

Very quietly, I asked, “Do you want me to go the whole way?” Without hesitation, he croaked, “Oh, God – yes! Make me cum!” At which point, I took his hard, throbbing penis into my hand and began to wank him hard; he responded by stretching his legs, pointing his toes, and grasping the towel on which he was lying.
 

It didn't last long! With a gasp, he cried, “It's cumming! Keep going!” I kept going and seconds later, he arched his back, his penis went super-hard in my hand, and he orgasmed. He sprayed semen over his belly and his chest while he bounced about on the bed as though an electric current was running through his body. I kept rubbing hard until he dried and then relaxed; then I gradually decreased my speed until, flaccid and satisfied, his penis settled back on to its bed of pubic hair. With a sigh, Jason settled back on the bed.
 

“Did you enjoy that?” I asked him, and he nodded. Then, to my surprised, he said, “It's what I've wanted you to do since the first day I met you.” I was thrilled to hear his confession and told him so. I in turn confessed I'd had feelings for him. Taking the small towel, I'd offer him earlier, I wipe his body and then my hands. I then laid down beside him and took him into my arms. When I saw he was comfortable with that, I kissed him. With no hesitation, he responded to the kiss.
 

For some time, we lay there in silence but, of course, I was myself thoroughly aroused by what had taken place. I should add that, as it was a warm and sunny day, I too was only wearing a T-shirt and shorts. Then, experimentally, as I held him in my arms, I placed his hand on the front of my shorts. I half expected him to draw back in shock, but he didn't. On the contrary, he took a gentle but firm hold of my erect penis – straining against the front of my shorts! – and gave it a squeeze. A thrill ran through me, and I touched his hand gently to let him know.
 

For perhaps a couple of minutes, he gently stroked me and then he sat up and said, “I think it's your turn now.” With that – and remember that he was still naked – he straddled my body and removed my clothing, first my T-shirt and then my shorts. Soon, I was also naked. With hands, tongue and lips, together with some olive oil, he went to work on my hard manhood; believe me, he was a skilled operator. He soon had me gasping and groaning as I surrendered my body to all he was doing to me.
It couldn't last long and, indeed, I didn't want it to last long. I was so aroused by what I'd done to him that I was craving satisfaction. Jason clearly realized this and so, still straddling my body, he took my penis into his hand and really went to town on me. I rewarded his efforts by quickly shooting semen liberally into the landscape. And, man, was that orgasm something to note in my diary!
 

When he realized I blown completely, he released my now shrinking penis. As I'd done earlier, he used the small towel to wipe me dry. After that, he lay beside me and we wrapped our arms about each other. “Strewth, Jason,” I told him, “I enjoyed all that, both what I did to you and what you did to me! You'll be welcome here any time you choose to visit.” Jason replied, “Yes, I'd already worked that out and, believe me, I'll be here.”
 

Relaxed and satisfied, sated even, we lay together and, unsurprisingly, we drifted into sleep. It was a sleep which lasted almost an hour. When we eventually awoke, I suggested we go into the bathroom and bathe as we'd both been liberal with the oil. Once in there, I ran warm water and, together, we stepped into the bath. First, I lathered Jason and then he lathered me. Then, facing each other, and sometimes turning around, I washed him and he washed me. Afterwards, I detached the shower head and washed the soap suds off him, and then he performed the same for me.
 

As we worked on the other's body in this way, we became excited again. I looked at him and I saw in his eyes the desire which I knew was in my own. That being so, I took hold of his penis, which quickly hardened in my grasp, and began to rub. Jason returned the compliment and started to wank me with equal vigor. We faced each other and, each with a hand on the other's shoulder to “steady the ship” as it were, we really gave each other a pounding.
 

It didn't last long: Jason won by a short head, as the horse-racing fraternity would say, and blew his load on to my chest and belly about ten seconds before I blew mine on to him. Leaning against each other, we rubbed away until we were both satisfied. Then with a gentle kiss, we each released our hold on the other, and gasped for breath. For some time, perhaps merely to get our breath back, we held each other.
 

Of course, we were both wet and sticky with each other's semen, so we had to repeat the mutual washing. This time, however, it did not excite us and we completed the job. Clambering out of the bath, we took towels and dried each other. After that, we dressed and I prepared sandwiches and tea. We enjoyed a pleasant meal. As we were eating Jason said, “The first time we spoke to each other, you told me you were good with your hands. Do you remember? Well, after today, I believe you!” With a grin I replied, “Well, considering your own performance today, I suspect that you are not exactly lacking in the manipulation skills yourself!”
 

I'd better bring my tale to an end by saying: that session was only the first of many Jason and I have had since. On more than one occasion, he's spent the night with me. We've also enjoyed a couple of weekends camping together. All that, of course, I cannot describe. However, I hope you've enjoyed reading my story about Jason as much as I've enjoyed writing and re-living it.
 

I'd be happy to hear comments