First Time Tales
Sam's Tale, Part 2
Everyone liked the story of the first time I dared to check out Paul while he was asleep. So, here's the next time.
We're going to tell the stories of the times I got away with it, and then the time I told him about it, what he said, and what happened.
Hope you enjoy these as much! Thanks for writing to tell us so! Ray forwards the replies, so if you want to let me know you liked the stories I'll read them. I'll let Ray handle the replies though.
I woke up when Paul's ten-year-old little brother came storming in, yelling about wanting to ride to the arcade. I sat up, groaning, and wanting to pound the little brat into a bloody pulp. It was nine o'clock, for crying out loud!
James hopped onto Paul's bed, almost screaming, "Come on, Paul! Mom and Dad say you have to ride to the arcade with me! Come on! Wake up!"
Paul mumbled a bit and rolled over.
"Come on!" James whined. "I wanna go before it gets busy and I have to wait to play the good games!"
"Go away," Paul mumbled.
"No! Mom said to ride with me! Come on!"
Paul sat up slowly, glaring at James like he wanted to crumple him into a ball and kick him across the room.
"Can I get breakfast first?" Paul asked, not really asking.
"Hurry up!" James cried, but at least he tore out of the room.
"I hate having a brother," Paul grumbled.
"Pain in the ass," I agreed.
Paul wiped his eyes and stretched. The short black hairs under his arms were so fascinating and sexy. His bare chest was smooth, and his pink nipples were like little candies.
The memories of what I'd done last night came up. So did my morning wood. I couldn't help feeling guilty about it. It was easily the hottest thing I'd ever experienced, but now it seemed wrong. Was it molesting him? Was it just a bit of fun? Did it mean I was sick? Was it no big deal? I didn't know. And it sure bothered me.
But the two times I'd jerked off right after doing that had been really intense! The best orgasms I'd had so far by far.
We both sort of just sat there a bit. I knew I wasn't going to get up, because he'd see my wood. I needed to pee, and bad, but I wasn't going to until he either laid back down or went to the bathroom first so I could have time to get mine to go down, or adjust it so it wasn't visible.
We sat there and it seemed awkward. I started to worry that maybe he'd been awake and knew what I'd done to him. I noticed he was blushing. When I saw that, I just sort of knew he had morning wood too, and was waiting for his to go down, or for me to go use the bathroom or something so he could hide it before I saw it.
It was easier for me to get up and face away from him, so I did. My dick was so hard it almost hurt. I jerked my shirt all the way down, trying to hide it in case his parents or his little brother came down the hallway. I got to the bathroom without anyone using the hallway. I couldn't pee with that thing throbbing though. I had to beat it off really quickly. Thankfully, it was willing to make it quick. Then I got to pee, and went back to his room.
He was holding clean clothes in front of himself as I walked into his room. We gave each other a grin and a nod, then he went and showered. I was really relieved to be alone for a bit. I had to think about what I'd done last night.
I was glad I'd done it, but I was ashamed of having done it, too. I'd wanted to do something with someone for over a year, but what I did was possibly very wrong. I didn't think Paul would be very happy about it at all.
I didn't like thinking about being gay. I didn't want to be gay. But I was sure I was. I mean, straight guys don't even want to see their friends' junk, let alone want to play with it. And they sure don't do what I did last night.
I was still wondering if what I'd done was no big deal, something bad, or something really awful, when Paul came back from his shower.
The bastard wasn't wearing a shirt, and was wearing the tan cargo shorts that were a little tight, and that made his butt look round and tempting, and that cupped and showed off his package. He has a couple extra pounds, but nothing that makes for a soft belly or anything. He just isn't skinny is all. His long, smooth legs poked out of the bottom of the short's short legs, just a tiny hint that he has black hairs on them. His black, straight hair was all damp and messed. His skin was all pink from the hot water and toweling off. Son-of-a-bitch! So fucking hot!
Have I mentioned how blue and sparkly his eyes are? Like jewels. He has black, fine, smooth eyebrows, and they arch over his eyes just perfectly. His nose is straight and long, and it ends in this cute little, rounded tip. He has really red lips, the top one fairly thin, the lower one sort of thick and pouty. He has dimples when he smiles. And a round, strong chin.
I don't know if my perfect guy image was shaped by knowing him, or if he was just similar to the image of my perfect guy by chance, but he sure was my image of the perfect guy.
So I worked to not blow a full boner as he got a shirt out of his dresser, but his butt in those cargo shorts was... I don't even know if I there's a word for it. The best word I can think of is... YUM!
We got cereal and then went to the arcade. Spent a few bucks, had some pizza for lunch, ran into Mark, Josh, and Kevin and hung out with them for a while. About five, the three of us went back to their house. We watched some movies, played some video games, fucked around the whole day. His little brother went to his friend's place and we had some peace and quiet for a while. We went to my place for dinner and to stay the night.
We switched houses all summer - his place then mine, back and forth. Sometimes we stayed over at Mike's or Brent's, and sometimes one or both of them stayed over with us at one of our places. But mostly it was just the two of us. I guess that's the way it is with best friends.
We watched some television, screwed around on my computer, and stayed up late.
I was already wondering if I should try to do that to him again. I wanted to, and I didn't. I decided not to. It was too risky. If he woke up and caught me, I'd be dead. Our friendship would be, anyway.
So we stayed up way late again. This time he was on his sleeping bag on the floor and I was in my bed. We used to sleep in the bed with each other, but ever since we'd gotten pubes and started the puberty thing, we'd started keeping a sleeping bag at each other's house. Why we didn't use each other's sleeping bag, and keep our own at our own houses, we never figured out.
About three o'clock, we were playing my video game and doing really badly, laughing at how badly we were doing. My sides hurt from laughing so much. We'd both taken off our shirts and socks, and I was in cut-off sweatpants, he was in those incredible cargo shorts. I can't even tell you how hot it was to see him in those, sitting next to me, his package all plump and bulgy. Cripes!
"Man, I can't keep going," he said, laying down the controller, still giggling.
He was so cute when he laughed. His dimples showed up, and his smile was so adorable.
"Yeah, guess we should crash."
I flipped off the system as he crawled over to the sleeping bag. His ass as he crawled away... oh, my, God. Maybe I was just especially horny. I doubt it, though. His ass, and those shorts... just... God!
I crawled up onto my bed and flopped down on my front. He got up and turned off the lights. We talked and laughed about the game and how badly we'd done the last couple of hours. It was so much fun. Not just the game, but talking about it in the dark, too.
I had my hand in my jeans, playing with a hot boner. I wanted to beat it off right then and there, but not while he was awake. No way. I wondered if he was doing and thinking the same thing. The idea of his hand down those cargo shorts, playing with the boner I'd touched, kissed, and sort of sucked last night... wow! I probably could have shot off without beating it if I just toyed with it harder. But it was too embarrassing. So I just held onto it as we talked.
Soon we weren't talking much at all, more just yawning, and not long after that, he was quiet. I was almost shaking with horniness. I couldn't have slept if I had to. I wanted to just go to sleep, and not lay there and think about sneaking down there and checking him out again.
I laid there for what seemed like an hour. I rolled over and over. I tried to go to sleep, mostly so that I would sneak down there and...
Damn it! It was frustrating! I didn't want to do it. I really didn't. But I wasn't falling asleep.
I rolled over and turned on the little light by my bed. He was on his back, arms behind his head, the way he always slept. He never had to roll over and over, never needed to find a comfortable position. He just stretched out with his head on his hands and closed his eyes. Lucky bastard. Lucky me, too.
He was so cute anyway, but asleep, he was incredible. The short hairs under his arms were like the stubble on my dad's cheeks and chin at night. His thick, black lashes really stood out against his pale complexion with his eyes closed. So did his red, juicy lips. And his pink nipples. And the way his package was all plump as he lay there... oh, God. And his smooth, lean, pale legs.
My dick begged me to crawl out of my bed and down there, and slip my hand over his groin. I sighed. I lay back and shoved my hand down my jeans and held onto my pecker and tried to resist. I stayed there motionless for a long, long, long time.
Four-twenty. I knew the stoners at school thought it was some special time. For me, it was when I couldn't stand it anymore.
I rolled onto my side and looked at him. He sighed a little, and stretched a little. I looked down to see his boner pushing up against those slightly-tight, tan cargo shorts.
His smooth stomach rose and fell.
My heart hammered.
My boner begged.
I sat up. I looked down at him. I sighed. He sighed a bit. His mouth was open just a bit. His boner was pushing up against those slightly-tight shorts. Those shorts had a slip-catch. No button, no snap. A simple, easy, sliding catch. And they were old, so the zipper was probably loose and easy. I'd noticed as we rode our bikes that he was wearing blue briefs. He had only started wearing colored underwear very lately, so they were probably large, and probably wouldn't be hard to get my hand inside of.
"Paul?" I whispered.
No movement, no change in his breathing, not a twitch.
"Hey. Paul," at conversational level.
My guts shivered and my body shook.
"Paul. Wake up, or I'm gonna put my hand in your pants."
I knew I couldn't wake him up that way. His brother and I, and me and other friends, had played video games and talked and laughed while Paul slept many times. We even had drawn on his face once. Once, his brother had drawn all over his chest, belly, and arms. I'd watched and laughed, after agreeing to tell him I'd been asleep too. Not long ago, we'd stayed over at Brad's place, and Brad had pulled Paul's hands out from under his head and tied them together with the belt from his bathrobe. Paul'd freaked out when he woke up the next morning. We cracked up for days over it, threating to roll him over and bust his brown cherry some night.
"Paul. Please wake up."
Louder than a normal talking voice, but not nearly loud enough to stir him, I was sure.
I wasn't sure if I really wanted him to wake up or not. I didn't even know what I'd tell him if he did wake up. So I must have been sure I wasn't really going to. I knew he was asleep. He always fell asleep so easily. And he always slept so deeply.
I got onto the floor on my knees, walked over on them, and sat there looking down at him. His face was so sweet, and his body was so smooth, and his package was so tempting.
I put my hand on his chest. Warm and soft. Smooth. I moved my hand until I felt his pink nipple under my palm. I felt his heart beating, slow and even. My heart was racing. I moved my hand down to his belly. I felt his slow, even breaths. My breaths were rapid and ragged. My arms shook as my hand moved down over the waistband of those cargo shorts. My guts trembled as my hand moved over the mound of his groin, and the hard point of his head. I looked up at his face. No change. I put my other hand on his chest where I could feel his heartbeat... slow and even.
I sat there like that, not wanting to do anything more, wanting to open his pants, wanting to take my hands off him, wanting to slip my hand into his pants, wanting to go back to my bed, wanting to slip my hand into his underwear, wanting to go to sleep, wanting to slip his pants down to his knees.
He sighed again, and his dick moved under my hand. His mouth opened a bit more. His breaths came a little faster. His dick moved again.
I kept my hand on his chest, and moved the other from his boner to the sliding catch on his shorts. They literally popped open the second I had moved the catch. I waited, watching his face and feeling his heart beating and his breaths. I grabbed the zipper tab and it moved down easily, until it reached where his boner was pushing up against it. I wiggled it over his erection, then it went down the rest of the way very easily.
I looked down to see the blue material of his new briefs pushing up through the open shorts. There was a dark spot there at the tip of his dick. I saw it move once. My own did the same. I was nearly panting. I felt sweat on my forehead. I was shaking all over.
I moved my hand to the opening, and pushed both sides of the shorts open further. Then I touched that dark spot, wiggled my finger there, then brought it to my nose. It smelled like heaven. I sucked my fingertip. Maybe the barest hint of salty muskiness.
I reached out and traced the line of his erection until it disappeared below the end of the zipper. It was so warm. Hard. And it flexed again as I followed it back up. I angled my hand awkwardly, then slid my fingertips beneath the waistband of the briefs, and into the warmth below them.
His skin was so smooth and warm. And it got warmer the further my fingers went in his underwear. I felt his few pubes, then the base of his dick. I looked at his face.
I knew he'd hate me if he woke up right now. He'd look at me with disgust, yank his pants up after tearing my hand out of them, and leave. He'd tell everyone what he'd caught me doing to him. I'd be labeled the fag I was, and I'd lose my friends.
But I knew he wouldn't wake up. His brother, Brad, and Kevin had all drawn on him. We'd all laughed and talked and played video games and he'd kept right on sleeping. Brad had moved his hands and arms, and tied him up, and he hadn't even stirred. And he hadn't been nearly as sleepy those nights as he'd been last night and tonight.
I wrapped my fingers around his dick. I moved my other hand down to pull his underwear upward and down. I saw my hand holding his dick. I saw his few black pubes. I saw his red head, the shiny moisture at the red slit at the end. I saw the top of his pink sack.
With my arms crossed like that, it was too awkward to do anything, so I switched hands. I'd never beat myself off with my left hand, so feeling a hard dick with it was weird, and really exciting. My dick was probably soaking my underwear with pre-cum. It sure was dancing around down there!
I held his blue underwear down far enough to see his balls lying there. The skin of his sack was really pink. I let go of his dick and really carefully lifted and played with his balls. They felt a lot like mine. I usually held my nuts with my left hand when I beat off, so feeling his with it was familiar but really hot. They rolled around like mine, felt like the same size, and were so warm and squishy.
He moaned a bit, and I froze. I looked at his face. His mouth was a bit more open. His dick flexed, drawing my gaze back to it. A big drop of clear fluid was forming, growing as I watched. I grabbed the base of his hot dick and stroked upward, squeezing it a bit, making that drop grow big enough it was about to roll down and away. I swiped it up and smelled it, then licked it off my finger. Salty, sweet, earthy. Yum!
I sat there, shaking all over, holding his balls with one hand, his throbbing dick with my other. Sweat was running down my face, from under my arms, down the back of my neck. I was almost panting. My dick was ready to squeeze off a huge load at the first touch.
His dick was as pretty as his face, as his body. The slit in the end was red, wet, and open. The end of his head was rounded off but narrow. The rest of his head spread out, widening, then swept back evenly, becoming an almost perfect bullet shape. Like a .44 or .45. The edges were rolled off and almost smooth. They almost didn't exist as edges, and were almost simply the end of his head and nothing more. His entire head was pinkish-red. There was about two inches of red skin behind the head, bumpy and rough, and the rest of his shaft, about three inches, was pale, like the rest of him. The circle of black pubes at the base was about an inch wide, and maybe three inches across. The hairs were sparse and thin, almost scraggly. His pink scrotum hung below his dick, holding his quarter-sized balls.
I stared, memorizing it. That's why I can recall it so clearly. I bet I sat there like that for five minutes. At least. I looked up and down him, memorizing his smooth belly, his chest, his legs, his face.
He sighed really loudly, and sort of stretched a bit, and his head moved a little to the side. His dick got even harder! Hotter, too. His breathing got faster. I was sure he was awake!
I let go of his balls and dick, quickly but carefully put his underwear go back in place. I was near panic. But he didn't move. I wanted to close up his pants and go to bed. I waited, knowing I was going to pull his underwear back down and touch him again.
I sighed, then reached out and snapped his shorts closed. I went back to my bed. I was sure he wouldn't notice his zipper was down if he woke up.
"Hey, Paul. You awake?"
Not too loud, but not softly at all. He didn't stir.
"Paul. Wake up. Or I'm gonna jerk you off."
I got back on my knees, went back to him, and unfastened his pants. I opened them wide, then lifted his briefs and pulled them down until I could tuck them under his balls. His dick leaked more pre-cum when I grabbed it. I used a finger on my other hand to wipe it away and put it into my mouth. The taste was awesome.
I stroked him really slowly. He sighed a soft moan. I watched his dick as I moved his loose skin up and down it. His legs moved a little, then his dick moved a lot. Then it was shooting. A little string of white landed just above his navel, about four inches long and very narrow, not very impressive at all. Then another landed on and in his navel. Bigger, but not all that much. Then two more shot out, short and squiggly. Then a little more oozed out onto my hand. He sighed and moaned softly a few times. His legs moved a little, sort of straightening out, then relaxed.
I held his dick as it twitched a little, then started going soft. I let go of it. It fell against his skin. I had to get off, now! I got up on my knees, undid my jeans, pushed them down far enough to get my briefs down and my balls and dick out, and beat it like a child who'd stolen a car.
Maybe a dozen strokes, then I was blowing a huge, hot, tingling load all over his soft cock and his balls. More than he'd just cum. Lots more. More than I usually did. Five big shots, then three small ones, then some dripped out. I cleaned my hand with my mouth, then looked at the mess on his stuff. I licked up his cum from his belly and navel, but not mine from his cock and balls.
I put his underwear back in place, then his shorts, then went to my bed. I sat on the edge of it and beat off again, but slower, taking my time, and I make one hell of a mess! And it felt incredible.
I cleaned up again, using my mouth. I wondered if he'd notice the mess I'd left on his junk, or if it would dry up and he'd never notice.
I wondered if I was going to do this to him every night.
I hoped so, and I hoped I never did it to him again.
And I leaned down and put my lips on the very tip of his dick. So warm and soft. I leaned down further, my lips parting as his hot, velvety head slid between them. When I felt the edges of his head pass my lips, I sucked.
"No wonder I haven't had to beat off!" he said, his beautiful blue eyes wide.
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