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The Tent Experience

Posted by: SoloTouchArchive Author: admin Posted on: 25 Dec 1998 1 comments
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by Anthony Anthony Many of us who have ended up being straight had initial sexual encounters with the boys. Sure, we don't like to admit it, for fear that someone will think us gay, but when you think back to it, in those early teen years, there weren't many real opportunities with the young ladies. So, some of us showed ourselves to our male companions; some even masturbated together; and others went further. I was one who went one small step further. For years, I refused to remember it, but lately I have come to realize what a pleasant experience it really was. And when you get to the age of 50, you begin to search your memory for pleasant sexual experiences. We were 13 or 14. We lived in a small town in Pennsylvania that was surrounded by woods. We spent hours in those woods playing all kinds of boys' games. Often, we would pack up a few tents, some hot dogs and soda and head for the woods for an overnight campout. There were six of us that night. We had three tents. Ken and I were sharing one of them. We sat around the fire until sometime after midnight, then retired to our tents. It was a hot night, so we slept on top of our sleeping bags. Ken and I both stripped to our undershorts, as was our normal practice in mid-summer. I don't know about any of the other guys, but I never really slept during these outings. Sure, I would drift off for maybe an hour, but sleep was always fitful, as I listened to the night sounds. I guess we were lying there for about an hour, and I was just beginning to drift off. From his breathing, it seemed that Ken was fast asleep. Then I felt the back of his hand just brush the outside of my left thigh, as he rolled onto his right side. I didn't open my eyes, but I didn't move away either. His hand stayed there touching my leg for several minutes, but I assumed he was asleep and the whole thing was inadvertent. Then, his hand moved up my thigh. He was still touching me only with the back of his hand, but now he moved it upward, then down again, in a light caress. It felt good, and I could feel my cock begin to stir slightly under my cotton underpants. I remained very still and consciously breathed deeply as though I was asleep. By now, however, I was quite awake, and wondering what might happen next. I remember my thoughts quite clearly. I wasn't interested in boys. I was just beginning to pay attention to the girls. I had started masturbating perhaps a year earlier, but it was always to thoughts about some actress, or to a picture in a mens magazine one of us had stolen from home. As far as I could recall, none of my friends had ever even seen my cock. Even when we went swimming together, we remained shy about such things. Now, Ken was stroking my leg with the back of his hand, and I was liking it. But he was probably sleeping, and not even aware of what he was doing. Now, his hand had turned over. It was his palm running lightly up and down my leg and he had moved on top of my thigh. He was getting closer to the tops of my legs and I was getting harder. I kept my eyes closed, but I could picture my stiff cock straining upward against the cotton. Ken's little finger was brushing against my balls now. Yet I remained perfectly still. His finger was moving back and forth caressing my balls. I believe I may have even thrust upward slightly to feel his touch a little better. My left hand was resting on the surface of the sleeping bag between Ken and me. With my right hand, I slowly slipped my pants down just slightly. I didn't want him to have any idea I knew what was happening, but, by now, I wanted to help him as much as I could. Finally, Ken moved his hand onto my cock. He was still on the outside of my pants, but he was pressing my cock from its underside upward toward my stomach. I was, at this point, harder than I had ever been in my life. His hand moved from the bottom side of my cock to on top, then back again. He circled it with his fingers and stroked it up and down. When he got to the head, I remember letting out a little moan, but I never opened my eyes. Then it happened. He moved his hand up to the waistband of my pants. I had already slightly lowered them, so it was easy for him to finish the task. I raised my hips some to let him get the band down below my balls. Now he had his hand wrapped around my stiff shaft. He wasn't squeezing or pumping as I did when I jerked off. Rather, he was massaging so lightly. Particularly when he moved up to the head of my cock, which now felt very wet to me, did he keep his touch so gentle. I didn't know then about what we now call pre cum. When I did it to myself, I just shot a warm wad of creamy liquid straight out in front of me. But this was different. I wasn't coming yet, but something was leaking out of the tip of my cock. I could actually hear it squishing between my cock head and Ken's palm. I could take no more. Ken had been stroking my exposed cock for probably three to four minutes, and I was ready. I began to move in rhythm with his stroke, and I finally shot my load straight up into the air. And it was more than I had ever produced by my own hand. It felt like I exploded in five different eruptions. I recall the hot cum descending back down onto my abdomen, and I could feel Ken's hand, now full of cum, continue to gently stroke me. Finally, it was over. I still had not opened my eyes. I just lay there with my now limp dick laying in my pool of cum. Ken rolled over onto his back and I could sense him lowering his pants. Now I got a little worried. Did he expect me to do it to him? I wanted to, but at the same time, I was afraid to let him know I even realized what had happened. So I lay still, but I opened my eyes to see what he was doing. He was on his back now with his cock poking straight up toward the sky. It seemed much larger than mine. He was stroking it gently, just as he had done for me. As I watched, I saw the cum shoot out. When it did, he took both hands and continued to pump it. I believe he came a second time. Or perhaps it was just one continuous long eruption. I drifted off to sleep soon after watching him. I slept better than I ever had before while camping. It was daylight when I awoke. Ken seemed sound asleep with his back to me. To my surprise, my cock was still exposed. It got hard quickly as I recalled the events of just a few hours ago. I touched it, but this time more gently than I had before, the way Ken had taught me. I came again. Ken and I remained close friends for many years afterward, eventually losing touch. Neither of us ever mentioned that night. He got married, had kids; so did I.