Date: Sat, 8 Feb 2014 20:29:03 -0500
From: Meyer DeFacto <copoyb@gmail.com>
Subject: Borderline Heresy

The following is a work of fiction, unfortunately. The characters are not
real people; please do not go around masturbating in public. That's gross,
and probably illegal. If you are a minor in whatever country, territory,
state, county, principality, or planet you're accessing this from, or if
you object to a story concerning a bunch of teenagers masturbating in a
church, please 1) leave and 2) perhaps don't go around visiting gay erotica
sites, since I really don't know what you're expecting.

Please direct all threats, comments, and proposals to copoyb@gmail.com. If
you enjoyed this, consider donating to Nifty to keep it running and to see
more stories like this; if you didn't like it, consider donating to Nifty
to keep it running and to see stories that are much better than this.

Borderline Heresy

It was three a.m. and I was lying breathlessly horny in public.

Perhaps I should back up. "Public" is maybe too strong a word, as might be
"breathlessly." I had been roped into participating in my local church's
youth-group lock-in; while it wasn't quite public, it certainly wasn't
private.

There were three other boys in the room, all of us listlessly watching Back
to the Future in a vague attempt to stay up all night, lit only by the dim
light of Marty McFly's escapades. I was the oldest, being a senior in high
school. The second-oldest present was Quinn, a junior, who had short brown
hair and—as I couldn't help noticing from the way he crossed his arms
behind his head as he lay on the floor in front of the couch I was lying
upon—similarly dark tufts sprouting from his armpits. The other two
boys, the alliterative duo of Karl and Kevin, were identical, blond twins
who had just started freshman year.

The girls were in another room, presumably either asleep or gossiping, and
the chaperone, who was in her office, had gone out like a light as soon as
midnight came.

Nor I wasn't "breathlessly" horny. I was certainly more so than normal, as
my usual opportunity to rub one out had been denied. I could breathe just
fine, but I was aware of a steadily growing presence announcing itself
under my blanket. Casting my eyes around the room, and making sure
everyone's attention—however glazed it was—was on the movie, I
gingerly rearranged matters down there so my erection wasn't pressing quite
so distractingly on my thigh. I kept my hand down there because hey, why
not.

Some sort of movement out of the corner of my eye drew my attention, and I
glanced at it reflexively. To my simultaneous shock and glee, I saw
movement under Quinn's own blanket. One of his hands had disappeared
underneath it, and it was clear that he was trying very hard to be
surreptitious, presumably thinking himself safe from prying eyes as a
result of his discreet position. I was clearly not the only one who was
bored here.

I considered my options carefully. If I played my cards right, I'd get to
see what, exactly, everyone else was packing; if I was particularly lucky,
I might even be able to have some hands-on experience. Church or not, most
rules seemed to go out the window when a) it's three in the morning and b)
you were dealing with teenage boys. As it turns out, they're more open to
experimentation than one might think.

To be too flagrant too soon would surely spell doom for whatever phallic
endeavors I might be building towards. Something more subtle could be
explained away, if reaction was overwhelmingly negative. I began to stroke
myself, making sure the movement was visible—but not obvious—to the
twins. Were everyone serendipitously jerking off all at the same time, no
one would have any qualms about making it more of a community experience,
so to speak. In the meantime, I entertained myself by considering what
Quinn was so eagerly working with. Was he as hirsute as his arms indicated?
Was he cut or uncut? These questions, and many more just like them, could
be settled shortly. (Or longly, if he was well-endowed.)

Over on the couch across the room, I sensed that Karl—at least, I was
pretty sure it was Karl; I really never could tell them apart—had
noticed me. That was good; I'd noticed that his affectations were markedly
feminine. Not that there's anything wrong with that, of course, but if he
joined, his brother would, and that would surely get the ball rolling.  I
gave no indication that I noticed Karl's intensifying stare, keeping my
pace regular. Sure enough, after a couple minutes and a couple quick
glances on my part I could see that his boxers had a noticeable tent in
them. He was sitting too close to his brother to monkey around without him
noticing, but from the way he watched, I could tell he was desperate to.

As it turned out, Kevin actually did notice his brother's arousal, but much
to my surprise, instead of feigning ignorance or disgust—as teenage boys
are wont to do—he slipped his own hand into Karl's underwear and began
to massage his brother's dick. My eyes widened as I took in the
implications; clearly, this wasn't an isolated incidence. Twins, man.

Quinn, lying on the floor, was completely ignorant that anything out of the
ordinary was going on.

When Karl began to let out small moans at his brother's apparently expert
fingers, I couldn't hold myself back anymore. I shucked off my pants and
sat up, displaying my considerable appreciation of the unexpected
show. Both of the twins flinched, Kevin whipping his hand out in a futile
attempt to act casual.

"No, keep going," I said. "We're all doing it, after all."

It was true. Quinn had turned around at the noise. He opened his mouth as
if to argue, but his own bulge in the covers caused him to bite back
whatever retort he'd had.

"Yeah," he said, after a pregnant pause. "I mean—you know. No one else
is around."

I looked at the twins. "Well? How about it, then?" I said. "You looked like
you were having fun over there."

They both swallowed nervously.

"What'dya say to a little comparison?" I pressed. "Just to see where we all
are."

"Sure," Quinn said. "Just to see, y'know..."

He stood up, letting his blanket fall to the floor. I raised my eyebrows at
the sight. While not quite as large as I was, he had a pretty admirably
sized dick for his age. It was about six and a half inches long, uncut, and
it was indeed nestled in a patch of dark, curly hair as I'd suspected. He
sat down on the couch next to me, taking in my own length—about an inch
longer than his, but otherwise similar—clearly a little disappointed
that he wasn't the biggest guy in the room.

"I've got a year's head start on you," I said, as if we were comparing
heights and not genitals. "But what about you two?"

Karl and Kevin seemed to have gotten over their bashfulness and now sat
facing us side-by-side. Having only just started high school, they weren't
as developed as the two of us, their skinny five inches crowned with only a
small tuft of blond hair.

We sat there in silence for a minute or two, eyes glued to each other's
crotches, unwilling even to blink, afraid to suggest anything for fear that
the spell would break. It was Quinn who broke the silence first.

"We can..." he began. "We can, uh..."

I smirked. "Sure." I sat back and began to stroke myself again. Gradually,
the others started up again, the twins keeping their hands to themselves
this time now that we were watching.

"Do you guys do that a lot?" I asked.

"Yeah," Karl said.

"I guess," his brother said.

I glanced down at Quinn. He was getting back into it, his balls jumping up
slightly with each movement.

"May I?" I asked, moving my hand toward his lap.

"Uh, sure," he said, taking his hand away. I leaned in and wrapped my
fingers around his dick. It was rock-hard and twitched under my
touch. Quinn let out a shuddering breath and leaned back, unsure whether to
let himself enjoy the sensation of another boy grabbing his junk. The
twins, on the other hand, took the invitation to jerk each other off,
actually seeming to be more comfortable when they weren't touching
themselves. I gave Quinn a few slow practice pumps before starting in
earnest. He sighed in pleasure.

"Don't forget him," Karl said.

"Yeah," Kevin said. "You should reciprocate."  I smiled. "It's only fair."
Checkmate.

Quinn swallowed and inched his hand closer to me. I scooted closer to him
for easier access, and he nervously took hold of my cock. It was clumsy and
nervous, but I honestly didn't care. Being where I was right now—in a
room full of guys groping each other—it would have been difficult to do
anything to turn me off.

No longer as afraid to make noise, the twins began to groan softly. Quinn's
hand steadied as he relaxed, and I took the opportunity to play with his
balls. They felt heavy, and I redoubled my efforts on his dick to see just
how virile he was.

Over on the other side of the room, Karl and Kevin seemed to be reaching
their climaxes. With a grunt, they both came simultaneously, a small amount
of pale liquid splashing on their groins. At this, I knew I wasn't far
either, and I shot my own (considerably larger) load, my dick jerking in
Quinn's hand and dribbling some cum onto his fingers. I gave Quinn another
few strokes, and he gasped as he started to unload. And unload he did; to
my amazement, he must have spurted seven or eight times, each load large in
its own right. His jizz hit his chest and began to drip down as everyone in
the room stared in frank amazement.

"What?" he said, clearly somewhat proud of his accomplishment. "We should
go to sleep. It's late." He got up to clean himself up in the
bathroom. "And...this didn't happen," he said.

"Oh, yeah," I said. Sure, I wouldn't talk about it, but I couldn't promise
that I'd forget it quite so easily.