SLEEPING NAKED WITH FRIENDS
The Aftermath, Part One
In the days that followed, I avoided the guys at school as much as I could, especially Lance. Seeing him only reminded me of the things I was trying to forget. I blamed him for what had happened. He'd blackmailed me into doing something I didn't really want and had avoided all my life. In that one evening, the pride I'd had in my unusual endowment since childhood had been taken from me, leaving in its place a kind of regret I couldn't seem to throw off.
I was also afraid some of the others probably knew about it too, the way they smiled at me, like they knew and perhaps wanted to satisfy themselves the way he had. I was pretty sure he'd bragged about it, at least to those he'd probably slept naked with that I didn't know about.
Avoiding the locker room as much as I could, I dressed out early for practice and did not go back until most of the players were gone. I'd often run laps or sometimes just not shower at all to avoid the awkward exposure to Lance or the other players. But there was also an even more pressing reason.
Ever since that night, my dick had become extraordinarily sensitive. Even the slightest contact with my underwear or pants was enough to make it swell, bulging even more than usual from my groin. Sometimes I could handle it, but naked and exposed, it could only be an embarrassment for me. I wore a jock and towel most of the time I was in the locker room, but it wasn't common for guys to do that, and it could cause more attention than I wanted. Lance especially teased me about it, but some others did too.
"What's with the towel?" they'd joke, pulling at it. "What happened? You never hid behind one before. What's happened? Something wrong? You never missed a chance to show off your dick." They were right. I didn't, but that was before.
Late one afternoon, Lance seemed to be hanging around the locker room long after most of the other guys were gone. I'd put off showering until I thought I was alone, but as I was finishing up, I noticed him standing in the door to the shower room, his eyes lingering over my swollen crotch. I turned away, allowing him only a glimpse my meat in profile.
"What's wrong with you lately?" he asked. "You're acting strange. You still pissed"
I didn't answer at first, just quickly rinsed off and walked over to pick up my towel, painfully aware my semi-swollen dick was swaying heavily out from my groin. I didn't look, but I'm sure he enjoyed it immensely, having not seen it in a while.
"I think I understand your problem," he continued. "You want to discuss it, friend to friend?"
"Go away," I exclaimed, holding the towel in front of me as I walked into the locker room. "I have nothing to say to you. Trying to be a friend to you was what got me in this fix in the first place." Lance followed me, looking around the room and then trying to grasp my fat, swollen dick as I dried my back.
"Well, I'll tell you one thing. If you think you've been successful at hiding the hard on you've been walking around with lately, you're mistaken. You're providing quite a show that everyone's talking about."
Jerking away from him, I started to tell him to go to hell, but wound up telling him about the problem I was having and couldn't understand. He listened, seemingly concerned.
"Yeah, I'm actually not surprised," he finally confessed. "The first time a guy sucked me off, the same thing happened to me. I was extra sensitive for a long time after it. I told you you'd be wanting it again and again . . . but, hey, that's okay with me."
"Don't flatter yourself!" I exclaimed, "That's not it at all. I just want this constant hard on to go away. My dick's driving me crazy, and I hate being anxious and horny all the time. I want things to be the way they were before." He smiled, shaking his head.
"Well, good luck waiting for that to happen. You're never again going to find the kind of satisfaction you want any other way. Right now, you need to be sucked off again and again until it's nothing new anymore. In time, the problem you're having will disappear." I looked down, thinking about what he'd said.
"Yeah, well, that may be true," I grumbled, mostly to myself. "But I can't do it for myself, you know . . . at least very well. It only makes it worse."
"Oh, so you've tried?" Lance replied, looking around, smiling to himself. "Well, if any guy could suck his own dick successfully, it'd certainly be you. I'd like to watch you try, but step in just before you cum and do it for you."
"Oh, shut up. It's not funny," I snapped back. Lance looked at me a moment, lowering his voice as he moved closer.
"No, it isn't funny, but you're lucky there's an easier solution to your problem," he suggested, trying to keep from smiling. "There's no one at my house right now, if you're serious about wanting relief."
"Oh, no. You can forget that," I exclaimed, my temper rising. "You've had your hands on my "big meat," as you call it, for the last time. You've wanted it since the first time you saw it. Then at the first opportunity you blackmailed me into letting you have it. Now I've got to live with the guilt the rest of my life, I guess."
"Yeah, maybe so. We both do," he replied. "You may not believe it, but I feel guilt for what I put you through that night. I was thinking only of myself. I'm sorry for that now and would like to make it up to you. You'd be doing both of us a favor to let me give you what you need." Looking him in the eye, I had to laugh. Did he think I was stupid enough to make the same mistake all over again?
"Oh, yeah," I replied, disgusted. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? You'd suck it everyday if I let you! Wouldn't you? Well, you know . . . even if I did decide to try your solution, you're not the only guy I could get that from. They've been plentiful all my life, even around here. I'd take any of them over you. It's not for me you're suggesting this. It's for you."
"Well, then do what you want. Get someone else to do it," he shot back, obviously offended. "But remember, you'd be better off with someone you could trust. Otherwise you run the risk of becoming more popular than you'd like with the type guys you'd rather not have to handle."
"Sure," I replied, "someone I could trust, I suppose, like you. Don't tell me you haven't told other guys up here you've probably slept naked with. You think I'm a fool? I can see it in their faces as they look at me now."
"No, you're not a fool, but you will be if you don't at least consider what I said. You know I haven't told anyone about that night. Why should I? I'd be messing up a good thing and telling on myself as well." Having heard enough, I started to dress, telling him I had to go, but he stopped me.
"Now you're not being fair with me," he continued. "If it hadn't been me, eventually it'd been someone else. You love showing off that dick of yours to other guys, and you know it. You get off teasing other guys, including me. Eventually one of them was going to get his hands on it. You know that's true."
"Shit!" I exclaimed, ripping off my towel. "That's a lie. Can I help it if some guys want it, as you say?" Lance just stared at me, waiting for me to calm down.
I sat down on the bench in front of my locker, thinking about what he'd said. Some of it did make sense, but I still didn't like his solution. I hated the idea of lying naked with him in bed again all night, putting up with all the crap he wanted to do, and I told him as much. He listened patiently, without interrupting until he responded.
"No, no," he responded, calmly, "I don't mean repeating all that stuff again but, times like now, when you really need it, I'd like to be the one to do it for you . . . not like before, but just long enough for you to get off. That's all. How else can I make amends to you for what I did?"
I hesitated for a moment, painfully aware my dick was beginning to swell against my jock as I recalled the sensation of his warm mouth sucking on my dick and that incredible moment when I wadded off almost nonstop in his mouth. Then I remembered the look on his face and the sickening audible pleasure he took messing around with my huge meat as he called it, and bragging the whole time about how much he was enjoying it.
"No!" I exclaimed, getting more angry with myself for even considering it. "Hell, no! What do you think I am . . . crazy? I wouldn't put myself through even that again, and why should I? We both know it's for your benefit, not mine." He looked away, shaking his head.
"Come on, you don't believe that," he shot back. "I admit I may have gotten carried away that night, but that was the first time. I doubt it'd be the same the second time. No, I'm sure it wouldn't, especially just doing it such a short time. That's nothing." I looked at the floor, wanting to believe him, but still angry he'd enjoyed it so openly and recalling that sick feeling in the pit of my stomach I'd felt after he'd finally succeeded in taking my cum inside him.
"Look," he continued. "Don't think it'd be such a big deal for me. After all, you're the one who gets a tremendous feeling of relief. All I get is a chance to make contrition for getting you into this predicament. Besides," he added casually, "it'd only take doing it a couple of times for these effects to wear off, so what's the big deal?" I perked up hearing that, starting to look at this in an entirely different light.
"Really?" I exclaimed. "You think so . . . only a couple of times? That doesn't sound so bad"
"Sure," he replied, encouraged greatly. "It might only take once, in fact. That'd be left up to you to decide. But the sooner we start, the sooner we'll see some results."
I looked at him for a while, mulling over what he'd said, not exactly admitting I liked the idea, but wondering if I could accept his sucking me off a couple of times, but this time on my own terms.
"Yeah," I replied, slowly, "I think I see what you mean. Well . . . you may be right. I guess we could. I mean like only a couple of times, but just that, nothing more." I nodded my head, signaling my agreement. "Yeah . . . well, I guess that would be all right . . . but no talking and carrying on while you're doing it . . . just that, nothing more."
"Just that," he repeated several times, a trace of a smile coming into his face. "Sure. I think that sounds fine. So, you want it right now? I mean we're here alone and all."
Again, I had to laugh. This time from anxiety, wondering if I could really do what I'd just agreed to do. With more than a tinge of reluctance, I shrugged my shoulders, trying to feign indifference to the inevitable consequences that came along with letting him get his mouth on my dick again, even for only a couple of more times.
"Okay then," Lance exclaimed, starting to undress. "Let's wrap some towels around us and go into the steam room. It's pretty much always empty and the door's easily jammed, once we're inside."
"Why take off our clothes?" I asked, suspiciously. "I've only got on shorts and a jock. They won't be a problem, and you can just keep what you've got on."
"Yes," he replied, "but we're going into a steam room. Guys are naked with towels around them in the steam room, you know. Suppose someone sees us coming out?"
Of course he was right. I nodded, trying to slide down both my jock and shorts at the same time, immediately feeling my heavy meat swell out from my groin with astonishing fullness. I tried not to notice his reaction as he undressed also, but I could tell he was very excited by what he saw and was about to have yet one more time.
Wrapping towels around us, we went into the dimly lit cabinet, climbing up on the wooden racks, me on the top level and Lance on the lower, jutting out beneath it. I leaned back against the wall, the folds of my towel bunched between my slightly parted legs, covering my genitals.
Lance squatted facing me, eagerly pulling back my towel until my whole groin was exposed, my unusually swollen meat mounded up between my thighs. Irritated by the hungry look in his eyes as he just stared at my meat, I closed my own, almost immediately feeling his warm hand move against my dick, gathering it and my balls up inside and squeezing their fullness, that familiar moaning sound in my ears as his thumb massaged the extremely sensitive head of my dick.
I almost panicked, unable to believe I was actually letting him do this to me again.
"Wait, wait," I exclaimed, squirming back from the sensation as I tried to sit up, pushing his hand off my already tingling meat. "I don't think I can go through with this." Lance paused, looking surprised.
"Why not? What's wrong?" he asked. "We agreed to give it a try, didn't we?"
"I know. I know," I exclaimed, impatiently, "but look . . . take it easy, for god's sake. I tell you I'm so tender and sensitive down there. Why are you just . . . groping around on it and all? That's not necessary . . . and look! If I'm going to let you do this, leave my balls and everything else out of it. Just suck my dick. Don't play with it. That's the agreement."
Lance was very frustrated, trying to suppress his eagerness, but unable to resist for long, slowly moved his hand over the tempting mass in my groin, lightly caressing my balls and then the soft skin inside my upper thighs. Trying to ignore the wonderful sensations rapidly spreading throughout my groin, I said nothing, but it wasn't easy, especially as he continued to fondle my heavy dick, repeatedly stroking its already thick fullness as it hardened rapidly, obviously wanting more than just the skillful attention of his hand.
Listening to his audible breathing, I could hardly deny Lance was enjoying himself, but this time at least in silence. Slowly becoming more resigned to what I had to let him do, I closed my eyes, leaning back against the wall, my thighs opening more, at once feeling his moist lips pressing against my meat, exploring it with his tongue, licking the precum from around the head, and at times even kissing its sticky slit. I wasn't really comfortable with that, but let him.
The sensation was at once wonderful, even if intimidating. It brought back memories of that night so vividly that, for awhile, I still wondered if I were doing the right thing, letting him do this again, essentially on the spur of the moment. But it was probably too late to worry about it. He was well into it by then and, I had to admit, so was my dick, its thick, sensitive fullness longing to feel the moist warmth of his mouth around it, seriously beginning to suck it, slow and easy, until, wanting to get it over with, I tried to relax and fill his mouth with my cum.
Cleverly delaying that, he licked up under my smooth, heavy balls, sucking the sweat from each testicle and then sliding his full lips up over the hard fullness of my shaft, slowly making his way up to the bulging head. Then swirling his tongue over its velvety softness, he slipped his mouth over the head, sucking it lightly, moaning quietly as he no doubt tasted the streaks of precum leaking over the side. My lower body began to tremble.
The warm, moist suction was incredible, even more wonderful than I remembered. I tried not to show how wonderful it felt but as his soft, full lips closed around the swollen head, and the warm pressure of his mouth slid slowly in small increments down over as much of my incredibly sensitive shaft as he could, I couldn't help but moan, my body trembling slightly with each movement of his tongue and lips.
I knew he loved it, but when I felt the tip my dick touching the back of his throat, I pushed up into the wonderful sensation as he began to suck my sensitive shaft in long, regular strokes, over and over and over until my whole body ached to cum. I tried not to show it, but I loved what he was doing to my dick and was slowly being overpowered by it.
Uncontrollably groaning myself from the tingling sensation rushing through my huge dick, I put my hands on either side of his head, guiding it over my shaft and then repeatedly over the head until, this time afraid of cuming, I closed my thighs against his head, forcing him to stop until I felt his mouth slide slowly back almost off my engorged shaft and, his hand squeezing its thick base, stroking it up and out from my body.
By then I was so worked up, it was all I could do to keep from releasing a flood of cum over his tongue, but I didn't want to it end so soon. Seeming to sense that in me, Lance again began sucking more gently on as much of my dick as he could as he stroked with his hand the part he couldn't get his mouth over. The coverage was incredible. Leaning back, my eyes closed, I felt the almost painful sensation of being deep-throated several times until my whole body shook against his.
Hunching up into the all-consuming sensation of the suction of his mouth, my body helplessly twisting under his, I felt the head of my dick thicken and flare. Then, without warning, I felt a single stream of warm sperm surge from the slit, followed by series of thick wads of cum emptying repeatedly from the relentless pressure of his mouth, my groin jerking against his face with each ejaculation. Lance was ecstatic, tightly squeezing the cheeks of my butt from the exciting sensation of my warm cum once more flooding his mouth.
Moaning audibly, he swallowed each thick load, never breaking his rhythm, until the pleasure for me turned to almost painful throbbing in my groin. Grabbing his head in both hands, I held it firmly, yet the sensation only intensified. I could control his mouth on my dick, but not the relentless swirling of his tongue over its incredibly sensitive head, gathering up the heavy leakage which continued to flow from my dick.
Eventually he relaxed his mouth but, sliding it down over much of the shaft, retained my dick in his mouth, resting his cheek on my stomach as he repeatedly milked the swollen shaft with his lips until I had to force its flaccid fullness from his mouth, pressing its red, swollen head against my stomach as it continued to ache with an incredibly lingering sensation.
"What's wrong?" he asked quietly, licking and kissing my hugely swollen balls. "Don't you want to cum again? I bet you could, easily." He was right, I probably could have, but I didn't want to. Lying there naked with him, his warm, sweaty body rubbing against my own with his every movement, I felt exposed and very self conscious.
We lay there in silence for a while longer, breathing heavily as I recovered from the terrific orgasm. I was exhausted, seemingly drained of both energy and semen, but also, free of the nervous anxiety that had plagued me. As I'd asked earlier, all this was done mostly in silence, except for both our unsuccessful attempts to muffle our pleasure, audibly. That made a big difference.
Even after we'd left the steam room and up until we separated, nothing was said about what we'd done. I was glad this had turned out so well. I suppose for him it was the same. I didn't ask or even want to think about that part. He didn't say, and I didn't especially care. I guess we both got what we wanted, and I was satisfied . . . at least for the next few days.
to be continued . . .
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