Boys Will Be Boys - Their First Time (25 page)

It all started out innocently enough. Our family had moved from an adjacent town to
Forsythe
,
Wisconsin
, which meant a new school district. This was right after I completed
junior high
school, placing me in the
eleventh
grade. Being somewhat shy and having no friends at my new school made my life difficult. My hero turned out to be a big Italian boy by the name of John Rocco. This guy was everything I was not. Very mature for his age, he had a husky, muscular build, was active on the school football team, very popular, and a good student to boot.

For some reason, we developed an
“
odd couple
”
type of friendship. Maybe he felt sorry for me. His home was within walking distance of mine, so we often rode the bus from school together. During one of these trips, the subject of our courses came up. We had both elected to take French rather than Spanish. This proved to be the thread that brought us together for study sessions in his basement party room. At the time, I was fascinated with electronics, particularly vintage equipment such as the old- timey wooden consoles that were as big as refrigerators.

John mentioned that there was an old RCA Victrola monster that had been in his family since the early 40s, sitting in his basement. Would I like to come over and take a look at it after supper that night
?
I jumped at the chance.

The beast worked perfectly, even had a built-in 78
rpm record changer and a cabinet below for a small collection of records.

This developed into a regular thing. I would arrive about 7
:00 pm
.
W
e would go to the basement, turn on the RCA and listen
to
some music or play around with the short wave frequencies. A little French study would get done
,
and then we would just hang out, usually talking school gossip. For the next three years, John and I had a very supportive kind of friendship. Supportive for me because of the sense of belonging he gave me just by being willing to freely associate with a non-jock. In return, I provided him with an outlet for his more intellectual interests, reading, music, the occasional trips to museums and just quiet hanging
-
out moments. Whether or not he ever sensed that I was maybe a
“
fairy
”
remained a mystery during this time period. He just seemed to accept the fact that I was different and respected me for that.

Several weeks after high school graduation
,
we were hanging out as usual down in his basement, discussing our futures now that we were over eighteen and free to make some choices. The talk turned to sex. Who was doing what with whom, which girls put out, etc. The talk got more and more into details
–
tits, ass, cunts and finally, which of the guys on his ball team had the biggest dick. Now that caught my interest. Not being on the team, my knowledge in that area had been limited to what I had been able to see in the locker room after gym class.

I commented
,
“
Well, in all the years I
’
ve known you we
’
ve never seen each other bare-assed
,
so for all I know you might have the biggest one.
”
He smiled and said
“
I
’
m pretty big, but Billy Cardozo beats me by at least three inches.
”

“
You got that right
…
last week a bunch of us was hanging out in the park after dark. I don
’
t know how the subject of dick size came up, but anyway someone says to Cardozo
‘
Hey Billy, take out the champ and show him off.
’
With that, he unzips and whips out this snake. The damn thing must have been a foot long
,
and it was still soft. I said something like
‘
Holy shit, what a monster cock.
’
Someone in the crowd said
,
‘
What
’
s up
,
Donny, you never seen a cock before?
’
Maybe I showed too much interest in Billy
’
s cock, I don
’
t know.
”

John said
,
“
Don
’
t worry about it
.
T
hose jerks are always pulling shit like that.
”

He looked at me kind of funny and after a minute or two said
,
“
So do you jerk- off much?
...
I do. Especially when I am down here alone
…
no
one to bother me. I
’
ve got a stash of
Hustlers
and
Playboys
hidden away and can really get off on some of those tit and ass shots. Want to see
‘
em?
”

Of course, I sort of wanted to see them, but even more, I wanted to see my old study-buddy jerk off.

He went to an old dresser under the stairs and pulled out a small stack of mags.

As he crouched down, selecting his favorites, my eyes focused on his nicely rounded butt. The elastic waistband of his gym shorts had stretched down, revealing a thin trail of black fuzz leading to the first few exposed inches of his ass crack. I was hypnotized by the sight, feeling like I was getting away with something a little kinky by spying on his ass, and at the same time, a little jealous. How come he had hair down there and I didn
’
t. After all, we were both about the same age. In spite of all the jokes about plumbers under sinks showing their butt cracks, I was totally turned on by the sight.

My spell was broken when he stood and plopped a
Hustler
in my lap.

“
Oh man, check out page 31, it
’
s one of my favorites, just watch out for the cum stains.
”

He wasn
’
t kidding. There they were
.
O
ne had even landed on the spread-eagled model
’
s face. My buddy was a real pervert
,
and I couldn
’
t be more thrilled.

After years of mostly solo masturbation, maybe my sex life was going to get more interesting.

John sat down on the carpeted floor and patted the space next to him, indicating he wanted me down there as well.

“
Come on, make yourself comfortable, and why don
’
t you take off your jeans
,
so I
’
m not the only one practically undressed around here
…
besides, if you get a boner it might break, crammed in so tight.
”

I protested
that
i
t would leave me in my jockey shorts and
“
what if someone came down from upstairs. Wouldn
’
t it look a little weird?
”

“
Bullshit, we can hear anyone coming because the door is as squeaky as the stairs, besides, I
’
m the only one who ever uses this place.
”

He seemed pretty sure of himself, after all, he was just wearing those stretchy gym shorts and a
T-shirt
.

While I was pulling off my Keds and jeans, John stretched out on the floor, his head on a pillow and a magazine in his hands, just inches away from his face.

My gaze wandered down his body; stopping at his mid-section. Oh man!
H
e was getting hard
,
and his dick was starting to stretch almost to the waistband of his shorts. Even without touching it, his cock was twitching under the influence of whatever he was looking at.

“
Here, take a mag and l
ie
down
…
there
’
s another pillow for you to use
,”
he insisted.

Not wanting to wrinkle my sport shirt, I took it off, leaving me with just my tight-whiteys and sweat socks for cover. This was feeling very weird. Here I was practically naked in someone else
’
s house, with
his
parents upstairs watching
Leave It To Beaver
reruns. That got me to thinking; wondering if the Beaver and Wally ever did the deed together. That would make such a cool episode:

“
Mom! Wally shot his spooge all over the clean sheets.
”

“
Boys, how many times have I told you to use the nice box of tissues I left by your beds when you masturbate. I
’
m going to have your
d
ad give you a stern talking to as soon as he comes home … Now get cleaned up for supper.
”

Just the thought of it gave me the giggles.

John was clearly annoyed by my laughter while he was getting off on a porn mag.

Suddenly, he dropped his magazine; jumped up and flipped off the light, leaving the room lit only by the bright golden radio dial. He lay back down on the floor saying
,
“
Sorry Donny, I just gotta jerk off. These cunt pics are just too much
,
and I
’
m ready to pop.
”

With that, he pulled down his shorts, revealing his fat 7 inches of uncut Italian salami. Its grayish-brown color fascinated me. It was so unlike my pale pink shaft.

Looking down at himself, he said
,
“
Not bad stuff, huh? Come on, we can both do it at the same time
…
don
’
t be such a pussy!
”

L
a
ying my head back on the pillow, I could feel the heat from his body just inches away from mine. His faintly masculine body odor was starting to get to me. My cock was now straining at the seams of my jockeys as he reached over and pulled them down below my balls.

“
That
’
s better, now relax and let
’
s have a good fist fuck. See, you
’
re as ready as I am and not a bad piece you got
… and unclipped just like mine
,”
as he reached over and gave my stiff prick a quick squeeze.

Compared with me, John was a giant. My eyes couldn
’
t leave the sight of his beefy hand sliding his foreskin back and forth, covering and uncovering his deep purple cock head. On the up-stroke
,
the supple skin gathered into a dark, wrinkled bunch then retracted, again revealing the silkiness of his glans. I was mesmerized.

Grasping my own stiff dick, we soon got into a rhythm and within minutes, our heavy breathing signaled our simultaneous orgasms. Shot after shot of our thick hot cream splashed onto our stomachs and coated our hands.

After we got our breaths back, John got up and brought me some Kleenex to clean up with.

“
Damn, I really needed that.
”

I replied in a shaky voice
,
“
Y
e
a
h
, that was great. My load was the biggest yet. How about you?
”

“
About average. If I don
’
t do it at least once a day
,
it starts leaking on its own.
”

Guessing he meant he had wet dreams, I agreed.

Hearing footsteps upstairs, I figured it was time for me to leave. As I got dressed, he said
,
“
Don
’
t forget, you can
‘
come
’
over anytime.
”
He emphasized
“
come
”
and grinned, adding
,
“Y
ou know what I mean, no invitation needed.
”

My visits became a regular routine
,
and it usually ended with us both having a jerk-off session, sometimes helping each other out. I was totally happy with this arrangement then things took a surprising turn.

John called me on a Friday afternoon and was really excited.

“
Hey, my mama and papa are going out of town for a wedding this weekend
,
and I
’
ll have the house to myself tonight and tomorrow night. Why don
’
t you tell your folks you
’
re going to crash at my place. Mine said it was OK for me to have company as long as it wasn
’
t one of my girlfriends. Mom even made a big pot of spaghetti and meatballs, so come over for supper tonight.
”