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Stroking Together

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I love to stroke with other guys...


I began masturbating with my friend Bobby...

I first masturbated with my friend Bobby, laying out on our beds in his room, during a sleepover. I watched as, lit by a flashlight, he stroked his hard penis, and I followed him in what he did. It felt so incredibly good, and then...oh my god!!! orgasm!!!! We had no knowledge of sex. We loved how it felt, and did it every chance we got.

We made plenty of chances on sleepovers, in a cardboard fort/playhouse in his basement stocked with vasoline and kleenex, in bushes at the playground, and in his house, his bed, his room, his parents room, his living room...from a few to several times a week.

Bobby showed me drops of semen that appeared when he climaxed. I tasted them.I felt the pubic hairs between his legs. He showed me how he jacked off hanging from a chin-up bar and swinging his legs. And one night he let me do what I had wanted to do forever, it seemed, he let me jack him off, while he told me how it felt and just how to do it. I felt his cock do what I'd watched it do so many times, grow hard and stiff and then orgasm.

And then my family moved away. I spent the summer alone, with my dad, where he'd moved for his new job. He was gone all day, and I spent all day masturbating. I jacked off the moment he left in the morning and all through the day, watching soap operas an masturbating to the women. I would go to the supermarket and when I came home, I would masturbate,thinking of the women I saw there. I learned to stay hard for a long, long time. I discovered the joy of my finger in my ass, and then more things to play with there while I masturbated, bigger, fuller. I ate my cum, always. At night I lay in bed and silently masturbated using just the pressure of a finger on my cock tip until I fell asleep.

At the end of summer, we went back to my home town for a short visit, and I wanted nothing more than to jack off with Bobby again. We met up and went for a hike to a place in the bushes where we used to jack off at.

I pulled down my pants and I was hard. I desperately wanted to see his cock again, a cock now surrounded by hair, just as mine was becoming.

He looked at me and said, 'What are you doing?'

I said, 'I want to jack off with you.'

'You're HOMO,' he said, and turned and left.

I was devastated. 

I didn't even mention masturbation to another guy through high school and until college, when I met John. I knew John in high school, though not well. When we learned we were accepted to the same college, we decided to room together in the dorms. John wasn't shy about his body. He would walk around the room naked. He was fit and compact and had a good looking cock, bigger than average with dense black hair. I masturbated at night, thinking about it. I never said a word, and pretended not to notice when he was naked, and all the while, dreamed of jacking off with him. I dreamed of holding his cock in my hand.

After our first semester, our parents let us get an apartment together. We had more freedom. We became closer, and without the distraction of dorm life, settled into a rhythm. One day John actually talked about masturbation, and asked if I ever did it. 'Now and then,' I lied, afraid to let on that every night, every bath, every shower, I jacked off, often thinking of his handsome cock. I was paralyzed to admit how much I loved to masturbate, and how much I yearned to do it with him.

Every day in the paper I looked at ads for strip joints, and wanted to go so badly, that I told John. 'Hey, let's go and see what it's like.'

He was up for it, and that weekend we went. I hardly remember the show, just the colored lights and surreal women who danced in them. I remember intensely John sitting next to me, and our ride home on the bus. Silent.

We got home, and John got undressed and was walking around, as if to go to bed, but unsettled, distracted. And his cock was swollen. I took my clothes off to, as if to go to bed, but I sat on the couch instead. He came in, and I saw his semi-erection, and I became flushed, heart pounding uncontrollably, and then my cock began to grow, stiffen, and rise to an erection. I couldn't hide. Didn't want to hide. And was scared to death.

John saw me. 'I feel like masturbating. Do you?'


'Do you want some lube?'


He went to the bathroom came back, spread some lube on his hand and handed it to me. He sat down next to me on the couch and began stroking himself, glancing at me. I don't remember much else of what happened, except watching cum spurt from his cock, real cum, gobs of it, much more than Bobby.

That night, and the next day, I tried to be casual, afraid to show how totally, deeply I wanted more. I wanted to masturbate with John more and more and always. I couldn't hide though. The next night as we ate some dinner, I blurted out, 'Do you want to jack off again tonight?' My voice quavered, as hard as I tried to be casual. I was shaking. Ready to be rejected. Expecting it.

'Sure,' John said. We finished eating in silence, and went straight to the couch again, already hard and stiff when our pants came down. This time there were no short glances at each other, this time we watched each other stroking, and when I heard John moan my own orgasm came hard and fast, and we shot our cum together, messing the floor and the couch so much that John jumped up with a towel and, with cock dangling, wiped everywhere around me, and then along my thigh and belly. I was stunned, transfixed, my mind spinning with the thought that John had jacked off again with me and had even touched me. Oh my god!!!

Every night for a week, found us on the couch, jacking together. And every night I dreamed of touching his cock, and every night I was too afraid to say or do anything. Until one night, John came naked into the kitchen as I was doing the dishes, and talked while I finished, before we went to the living room to jack off. Something came over me. I strode to the living room in a trance, and dropped my pants, then carefully took off my shirt and folded it. John was on the couch and already stroking. I sat next to him, and said,'Let me stroke you,' as I reached out my hand and took his cock. I was in some other state, nervous, compelled, and more excited than I had ever been. But I stroked him slowly, deliciously, teasing and torturing, until he came, covering my hand with cum.. 

I nervously began stroking myself, my hand wet with his cum. Then John reached over and began feeling my balls, and then my thighs, and then took my cock and in a few strokes made me cum! 'Wow,' he said, 'that was fantastic.'

We sat for a while. John said, 'Wow, I never dreamed of this. Never imagined jacking off like this. It's so fantastic, so fantastic.' I don't remember what I said. It was months before I told him about Bobby and his rejection of me. By then we were jacking ourselves and each other daily, sometimes two or three times. I remember so many times leaving the house, my cock dribbling cum, wet and sticky, as I hurriedly pulled up my pants and rushed to class after cumming with John.

At work, decades later, there appeared a young man, just out of college named Carl. We enjoyed each other's company and went out for dinner or to relax after work, alone or with others from the office. I began to yearn to masturbate with him. And I had a feeling he would. And would like it. I masturbated so many times thinking of him there with me, stroking. It was months before I mentioned masturbation, casually, in our conversation. Carl took the hint. Totally. In a few minutes we went from a passing joke, to sharing intimate details. Carl was incredibly eager and excited to talk, and for hours we talked and talked about masturbation and sex. Right away I told him the story of Bobby, and then of John, and then others.

Carl listened sympathetically, nodding his head and saying he understood, but I didn't know, and he gave no hint, about whether he would masturbate with me. Perhaps Carl was really as shy as he seemed, and we would end the evening as other, and go home, and stroke in our beds. He had never masturbated with another before, after all.

Well, at one moment we fell silent, and the silence lasted for a long time. Carl sat across from me, just looking at me. I wanted to ask him to masturbate with me, but couldn't move my mouth to say. Finally Carl said, 'I want to try it with you.' Wow!!!! I was so happy. Carl was so funny, he leaped up and took off all his clothes, with his boner-very long-dancing in the air, and sat down waiting to touch until I began stroking too. Oh my, we had such a good stroke and cum together, and then sat and talked and talked more, relaxed and excited both. And then I reached over and stroked Carl, and he reached over and held my cock.

The evening was a success, and now Carl is a regular visitor to my house.



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