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Sleepless in Georgia Part 1

Posted by: SoloTouchArchive Author: admin Posted on: 26 Jan 2005 0 comments
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Sleepless in Georgia Part 1 by FabianAt the age of fourteen I discovered masturbation and was immediately obsessed with the sensations and amazing new capabilities of my cock. Under the covers in my bedroom, I would tease myself to a frenzy and then, so as to prolong the ecstasy, I would put my hand lotion aside and sleep (or try to sleep) for a little while so I could wake up in the middle of the night and do it all over again … and again and again. Being an only child, I had boundless opportunities for such explorations. Like every other male, I was very curious about the wide world of masturbation. I had friends with whom I could jokingly talk about sex and masturbation. One of these friends had a younger brother, and we once masturbated in the same room on separate beds with the covers drawn up. Afterward, I fantasized for years about a more open and intimate form of mutual masturbation, but never got the opportunity. And after I married, I never thought I would. My wife came from a large family, and she had an older sister who had started her family at a very young age. Thus, when I was 24, my oldest nephew, Billy, was 14 and his brother was 10. Those were our ages when my brother-in-law and I planned a guys-only camping trip to one of the Georgia sea islands – a wilderness island with miles of empty sand beaches. I suspected that Billy might be at the age where he was just discovering the joys of letting his fingers slide up and down the length of his lubricated manhood. My wife was in her first trimester at this time, and prior to the trip I had not had sex with her for several weeks. Normally, I would have masturbated many, many times during that intercourseless stretch, but for once, I hadn’t. by the time of the trip, my mind was filled with so many sexual fantasies that I could hardly think straight. One of those fantasies was sharing a long and glorious night of masturbation with my nephew, whom I would educate in the ways of autoeroticism. We made the trip south in the back of my brother-in-law’s pickup truck. Two rode in the cab while the other two bounced along in the back. The bed of the truck was covered by a cap and the floor was covered by a queen-size mattress he’d thrown in just for this trip. A few of his carpentry tools rode back there as well, including a piece of wallboard that blocked the view from the cab into the bed of the truck. After a long drive in which I alternately dozed and wrestled with both my nephews in the back of the truck, we reached a small town on the Georgia coast where we would catch the ferry over to the island. But the last ferry had already left. Our budget did not include hotels, so we were going to spend the first night of our camping trip in a parking lot near the wharf. My brother-in-law proposed sleeping in the cab of the truck, leaving the bed in back to me and my two nephews. In Chicago, there had been snow on the ground. Here in Georgia, the night was warm, and the breeze carried the smell of the nearby marshes. It also carried pollen from the nearby woods which triggered my allergies. I had nearly given myself a concussion from sneezing so violently so often, and I crawled into my sleeping bag early that night and did not move. But I could not properly sleep either. It was a good thing I didn’t. Billy and his brother, Bobby, had not been in the sleeping bags for long, when Billy said he’d give Bobby 50 cents if he’d just climb over the tailgate and disappear for a few minutes. It took some coaxing, but Bobby went. I soon found out what Billy had had in mind. He had his hands on himself the moment his brother was out of sight. We were not two feet from each other, but Billy had undoubtedly heard my raspy breathing and assumed I was fast asleep. My face was turned away from him, but his own deepening breathing told me he was making good progress. My dick was hard in an instant, but I kept still, fearing another attack of sneezing would spoil the moment. If only I could watch Billy working over his young manhood from such close proximity! I began to turn my head slowly in his direction, but abruptly he sat upright and began rummaging in his pack. He’s looking for some Vaseline, I thought to myself, and considered offering him mine since he was having trouble finding what he was looking for. But the sound of a zipper told me he had gotten what he wanted from the pack and he was again lying on his back next to me, doing his best to spread his knees inside of his sleeping bag. I had now turned my head, doing it stealthily so he would not realize that I was awake and had taken an interest in what was going on beside me. I knew he would badly want to finish what he had started now, but there was something going on down below that seemed to cause him a few moments of difficulty and delay. Perhaps planning ahead for the clean-up, I thought. Soon, things returned to normal. In the moonlight I could see the concentration, the erotic transport as he let his head fall all the way back, arching his back slightly as his chest rose and fell in steady rhythm and his knees strained outward against the fabric of the sleeping bag. When the first wave of the orgasm hit him, his free arm swept aside the neck of the sleeping bag so that I suddenly had a view past his chin and down the smooth length of his tight body to where his strong hard member rode slender bucking hips. Judging from the force of his gyrations, I expected his cum to fly up and hit both of us in the face. I would have liked nothing better. Billy’s hand worked expertly, milking the shaft and caressing the head of his beautiful cock, but the only result was a single thread of pearly jism that leaked from the tip and dropped straight onto his flat stomach. For a moment, I worried that underpowered testicles might be to blame. But then I noticed at the base of his cock, partly hidden by the fine dark pubic hairs, a thick rubber band, which he must have turned double. So this was his plan for avoiding a messy clean-up. But at what a cost! I turned slowly away as Billy used a pair of underwear to mop at the small lake of glistening cream he had produced. I vowed that he would not again have to stifle the love juices that his balls were dying to shoot forth into the night. The following day we reached the island by ferry, hiked the road into its interior and pitched our tents in the sandy soil beneath a row of huge live oaks. Bobby had been a handful during the hike, and as punishment, he was assigned to sleep in the tent with his father. Billy and I took the other tent. (To be continued). 1997-2004 TMHP & BMCG.COM