More Than Friends - Part I

By RD

Published on Apr 18, 2010

Gay

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The events of this story are absolutely true, and took place between myself and a buddy of mine when we were ages 14 and 15, respectively. Not much of a point in even changing his name, since it is so common (John).

I first met John when I joined a scout troop in town. At 15, he was a year older than I. John and I were physically much different; he was tall, with striking blonde hair that he parted in the middle and feathered, as many did during the 80's. I was average height, with brown wavy hair. We were just a couple skinny kids, enjoying life in the suburbs.

I had always been predominatley interested in girls, and had a horny streak running through me pretty much 24/7. John and I had been hanging out as friends for about a year, and he also indicated only an interest in girls. Looking back on the chain of events, I can see that he had likely been thinking of me as more than just a friend for a while.

As summer approached one year, the troop was making plans for a week-long hike in the high Sierras. I still did not own my own tent, and knowing this, John enthusiastically suggested we could share his small tent. I thought this would be fun, and quickly agreed.

Before I knew it, there we were, sharing a two-person tent in the high country. After a long day of hiking, a beautiful sunset and some campfire activities, the troop got cleaned up and we retired to our tents to get some rest. John and I crawled into our tent, and climed into our sleeping bags.

"Do you sleep in underwear, or do you go totally naked?" John asked after a few minutes. Somehow, I did not find this to be an odd question, and answered matter-of-factly that I wore my underwear when I slept.

"I like to sleep totally naked," he responded, and I could see that he was pulling off his briefs inside his sleeping bag. "You should try it, too."

I figured, what the heck, and slipped my briefs down my legs and kicked them of my feet. The nylon fabric of the sleeping bag was slightly cool, but very smooth and comfortable.

As was frequently the case, the subject of our whispered conversation turned to girls and sex. I don't think either of us had much experience with either, but the thought of naked girls started to stir some reaction in my cock. I figured this must have been the case for John, too, when he told me he was experiencing the same phenomenon.

"All this talk is giving me a hard-on," he said in a quick voice with a slight laugh.

"Yeah, me too," I replied.

It started to get interesting with his next line of questioning.

"So, on a scale of one to ten, how hard are you right now?"

I thought this over, and told him I was at an eight or nine.

"Yeah, I guess I'm about there, too." He paused, then asked, "When your at an eight or nine, is it hard all the way out, or is it still a little soft?"

It was with that question my mind began to race. I had never discussed my dick with anyone before, and I thought this was a little strange...but extremely exciting! I wondered to myself, "Is he coming on to me?" I shook off the thought, and answered.

"I dunno...I guess it's just about all the way hard."

If I was an eight before, I was quickly becoming a ten.

John whistfully said, "I guess everybody's is a little different. I wonder how different your's is than mine?"

I paused for what felt like an hour, but was probably only five seconds. Then, I decided to go for broke.

"Would you like to see?" I asked.

"Sure!" he replied, "And I'll let you see mine."

I unzipped the side of my sleeping bag about a foot, hesitated a second, then lifted the top portion of the bag, and shone my flashlight on my five-inch, rock-hard cock. John moved closer and peered into my bag, and studied carefully. I could barely feel his warm breath on my naked chest.

"Wow! That IS hard. It's long, too."

After about ten seconds of close study, he returned the favor. The zipper of his bag moved down, and he lifted the top of his bag, lighting the way with his flashlight.

I looked into the bag like I was discovering a new treasure. It was then that I'd realized I had wanted this moment to happen for quite some time. I was a little surprised that John's dick was a full inch shorter than mine, but what it lacked in length, it had in thickness! Its head was different than mine as well; his was more arrow-shaped, with the underside of the head ending almost at the tip. Mine was a bit more rounded. I also noticed he had wonderfully large testicles.

I didn't know what to say, but kept staring. He eventually closed his bag, and I can't quite recall the exact dialog at that point, but I know where it led.

"I wonder if they feel the same?" John mused. "Does yours give in a little if you squeeze it, or is it absolutely hard?"

I could see that this would be his pattern. He would "wonder" something, and I would give the okay to take the next step.

"Do you want to find out?" I asked.

He chuckled ever so slightly, but quickly answered, "Sure, why not?"

I opened my bag as I had before, offering him ample room to reach in and explore my young prick. I felt a bit of cool air enter my sleeping bag, then I felt his warm fingers wrap around the shaft of my cock. He moved his hand around a bit, as if testing fruit in the grocery store. His hand stayed in place for a while.

"Wow, you're excited!" John exclaimed. "You wanna check mine out?"

I was in heaven, with his soft, warm fingers fondling my dick. "Yes," I softly managed to squeek out. I'm not sure if it was in response to his question, or in response to his caress.

John already had his bag unzipped, and I slipped my left hand down his body until I met his throbbing cock. It was soft and hard at the same time. I heard him let out a slight gasp.

Niether one of us wanted this to stop, and there was a bit of awkward conversation about how it felt, and what each others' balls felt like. I found myself matching his actions; when he fondled my nuts, I fondled his. When he played with the head, I did the same. I noticed we were both experiencing a drop or two of pre-cum, but neither of us mentioned it. I couldn't get enough.

His next question about floored me.

"I wonder what it's like to get a blow job?"

I was pretty sure I knew what this was, but I stayed quiet for a bit and just listened. At one point, he said something along the lines of, "Well, there's no girls around here, so I guess we won't find out tonight..."

I took the bait, hook, line and sinker.

"We have each other.."

"Really? You want to?" John replied.

"Sure," I quickly answered.

"Okay, I'll go first," John said, as he began to lean toward the somewhat slippery cock in his hand.

I let go of his cock, using my left hand to unzip my sleeping bag a bit more. There was no foreplay involved. Before I knew it, his warm mouth completely enveloped the head of my dick. I don't know how I kept from blowing my load right then, but I remember contracting my ass muscles to force myself a little deeper into his mouth. This was heaven!

I thought of my pre-cum mixing with his siliva, and for some reason I immediately thought of us rubbing our slippery dicks against each other. I made a mental note, and enjoyed my first blow job a bit longer before telling John it was his turn.

He laid his head back on his folded jacket, and I reversed positions with him. I took his thick member into my mouth, and moved my head back and forth over the head. I moved my tongue around the head of his penis, feeling the stretched, smooth skin joining the chubby shaft. I could taste his moisture leaking slightly from the tip. I remember thinking how fresh he smelled, like he might have even brought cologne on this trip, specially for this occasion.

After a couple minutes of mouth fucking his dick, I came up for air, and laid out my idea.

"We could put them together and see what that feels like..."

"Hmmm. Okay, I never thought of that," he responded.

We both peeled aside the tops of our sleeping bags and pushed our groins toward one another, until the heads of our penises were touching, pressing into each other. It was a wonderful feeling, but not exactly what I had invisioned.

"Not like that," I said, "get closer and we can put them together the long way."

He caught the vision, and we moved in close together, so the bottoms of our cocks were now pressed against each other. I grabbed them both with my right hand, and began jerking us off. John began bucking his hips, and I followed his motion. I noticed our dicks were getting slippery, as the heads bobbed unevenly against each other.

Our pre-cum was now mixing, as our breathing became faster and deeper. I heard John grunt gently and felt his cock surging in my grasp, right up against the shaft of mine. He was cumming!

I felt the warm semen covering my hand, which sent me into a flurry of action with my hand. I didn't let go, and kept pumping quickly, but not harshly. I felt the warmth rising from my balls, toward my dick. Pure electricity!

The head of my cock was now stretched as tight as it would go, and I'm sure it was deep purple, though I couldn't see it. Then, as I felt his dick shoot the last few drops of cum from his head, I began shooting, too! The warm, white, slippery stuff drenched my hand, his stomach, my stomach and the tent floor. There was no defining who's was who's...It was mixed together and felt the same.

I was greatful we had a roll of TP to clean up the mess when all was said and done. It had been a messy, eventful night, and I hoped for more to cum.

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