Date: Wed, 4 May 2016 13:48:53 +0100
From: Robert Thomson <alanussr@gmail.com>
Subject: SPECIAL CARE FOR AN INJURED FRIEND

WARNING: This factual account includes explicit details of sexual activity
between teenage males. If any readers are minors, resident in a
jurisdiction where such material is illegal or are likely to be offended by
it, they should leave this site at once.

And please remember, Nifty needs your donation.

SPECIAL CARE FOR AN INJURED FRIEND AND OTHER MEMORIES OF MASTURBATION

Robert J Thomson writes:

Peter was my classmate and playmate all the time we were in Primary School
and the same when it was time for Secondary School when we reached 11.  He
lived only a short bus ride from me, so the two of us used to see a lot of
each other at weekends and in school hols, going places on our bikes, often
going swimming in the indoor water centre when the weather was no good and
at the outdoor pool in summer, and just hanging about together, all the
usual boy stuff.

When both of us were 16, he was in a bad car accident.  Except it being
just through speeding and Jack losing control of the car, there was no
reason for it happening. Pete's older brother was driving, just over two
years older than him and me. His name was John, always called Jack, and he
was meaning to join the army.  Anyway, one early evening in good weather,
Jack somehow drove off the road into some small trees, with the car ending
up on its side where Pete was sitting.

It was nothing less than good luck that a police car came that way only
something like 5 minutes after it happened, so they got Pete and his
brother out and an ambulance was there very soon after.  Pete was taken to
one hospital and Jack taken to another because their injuries were
different.  It was their dad who phoned to tell me that Pete was in
hospital because he knew that we were very close friends, and of course I
was real worried, wanting to go to the hospital to see him, but it was over
a week later before I managed to get there.

He was in a side ward by himself, with a window and a big wash-basin.  Pete
had broken one leg, and on top of that he'd done something to one ankle and
both his wrists. His broken leg was in plaster all the way from just above
the ankle to close to his knee and it was up on a frame.  His other ankle
and both wrists were tightly bandaged.  All he had on was one these
hospital gowns, the kind that tie up at the back. When I arrived, the nurse
who was mostly looking after him was just finished giving Pete a wash.  His
name was Gordon, black, quite young, a big strong-looking guy. After he'd
gone, I sat down on the chair close to Pete's bed and wanted to know what
he remembered.

He said how there was like a big bang. Next thing, he was in the ambulance
without Jack, and when they got him into the hospital he was still a bit
out of it. He remembered lying there with doctors shining a light into his
eyes and asking him if he knew where he was.  Someone was cutting all his
clothes off, leaving just his boxers on and a sheet being put over him, and
when they took him for a scan, they even took the boxers off him and got
him into a hospital gown like he had on there in bed.  He must have been
given something to knock him out while they plastered his broken leg and
put all the other bandages on, because he just woke up in that bed.  He
wasn't happy having to pee into a bottle and have a bed-pan for the other,
but he liked Gordon and had got used to being washed by him.  When he was
getting washed round his balls and that, he said he more often than not
couldn't help getting a bit of a stiffy, but Gordon never paid any
attention or said anything about it.

I was sitting there on the chair close to where Pete was lying.  At 16
neither of us needed to shave any more than once in over a week, but
sitting there I could see the gingery hairs on Pete's chin, and just a
little on the sides of his face and I was kidding him about it. He said
Gordon had promised to give his face a going over with the electric shaver
his dad & mum had brought when they left some clean clothes and other
things, all in his bedside locker. After I was there for more than an hour,
I was getting ready to go and stood up.  Pete suddenly asked me if I would
do something for him, so I said, "Sure, anything you want."

For a moment, he didn't say anything, just lay there looking at me.  Then
he told me. Know what it was?  He wanted me to give him a wank, that's
what!  I sat down again on that chair close to Pete's bed.

He wasn't joking about the wank. I knew how he must be feeling.  He said
he'd not had a chance to do it for a couple of days before the accident,
and he'd been in hospital like that for 8 days.  I told him I wasn't really
happy with the idea. For one thing, what if Gordon or another nurse came
in?  Pete was sure no one would come in. Gordon and the other nurses were
busy with other patients, and anyway, the way he was feeling, it wouldn't
take long, and he promised me he wouldn't make a lot of noise, no loud
groans or anything, no matter how good it felt.

Well, Pete was far and away my closest buddy, and I didn't want to refuse
to do it for him. Goes without saying that both of us had been into wanking
since we were 14, and we'd done it together plenty of times. What I mean to
say is right from being too young to cum, except for the little squirts of
watery stuff that boys produce as first efforts, and all the later times
when both of us eagerly watched the real semen bursting out of our rigid
cocks, great spurts of thick white stuff, and the shuddering orgasms
shaking our whole bodies, leaving us dry-mouthed, out of breath, hearts
pounding.  But while we'd touched each other, and watched each other
cumming, we'd never wanked each other right off, and I'd never even touched
any other lad's cock except his.  All that was going through my head,
understand?

I knew I just had to do it for him.  First off, I carefully pulled his gown
as close up to the top of his chest as I could, expecting that there would
be a proper mess. That was when I saw Pete's bruised ribs.  When I put one
hand under his balls, stroking them, his cock stiffened at once, even
before I even touched it.  Both of us still have our foreskins. As Pete's
cock stiffened and grew, his skin peeled back all by itself, and the
swollen pointed purply-red head of his cock emerged.

Kneeling up on the chair to get real close, I kept my left hand under his
balls and began wanking him with my right. At over 6" when it was really
stiff, and quite thick, I could close my fingers round it, and kept doing
that, moving his skin all the way up & down again, not fast, just steady
like he wanted me to do it.  Pete was keeping his promise: no noise, just
heavy breathing and giving tiny gasps, no more than that.  I'd been wanking
him steadily for less than 10 minutes when I felt his balls tighten, always
a sure sign that the point of no return is dangerously close.

A few drops of that clear pre-cum oozed out, lubricating under Pete's
foreskin, and I felt his cock go even stiffer in my fingers, the way it
does that instant before it starts jerking and kicking like on its own as
the hard ridge of muscle under the balls begins pumping.  Except for his
breathing and little gasps, Pete had controlled himself well until that
moment. He went "Aah! Mmm! Now!" and the first spurt of semen shot out, not
far, only just above where his hairs were, but as his cock jerked in my
hand, the next three, four, maybe five big strong spurts came shooting out
in rapid succession, going all the way to the top of Pete's chest and just
missing the gown which I'd pulled as far up as I could.

It's strange, same happens with me too, the first little squirt of semen
usually doesn't go far, and then the next spurts come bursting out
everywhere.  Pete was lying there with his eyes closed, blowing quietly
through his lips, his cock giving little twitches as the last few drops of
semen oozed out. Knowing how sensitive my own cock feels at that stage, I
squeezed his very gently and drew his skin forward to cover the top.  His
balls had gone right up the sides of his cock at the orgasm, and were back
down where they usually were, close underneath.

Looking at the sticky white mess all over Pete's chest and belly, I could
hardly believe so much had come out of him, so he must have been really
needing that wank.  He had opened his eyes, grinning happily at me, and
looking down at the mess all over him. I had to get him cleaned up before
it started to trickle off him onto the bed.  It took a big pile of tissues,
completely soaked, and with that weird smell that semen has. Dumping them
quickly in the waste bin, I got some warm water from the wash-basin and one
of Pete's face-cloths, going all over his chest & belly and where a little
had run into the hairs above his cock. Then I dried him off very carefully
with a towel.

I'd only just pulled Pete's gown back down and covered him with the sheet
when Gordon the nurse came in. He said Pete was getting better every day,
and that my visit had obviously done a lot to cheer him up. You could say
that again!

While I was wanking him there in the hospital, I could feel my own cock
going hard. It was poking out through the front of my boxers, rubbing up
against my jeans, very uncomfortable. But I couldn't do anything about it
because I needed both hands for him and I didn't dare stop in case Gordon
or another nurse came in. It went down as soon as I got off the chair to
get tissues and then the warm water to clean Pete up.

When I got back home after that and took my clothes off to have a shower,
the head of my cock was quite red once I pulled the skin back, suppose it
was just from where it was rubbing against my jeans.  Another thing, when I
looked at the boxers I had on, I found some damp sticky patches of that
pre-cum.  Once under the shower and when I had finished washing it
carefully, my cock felt OK.  I washed the boxers out in there and they soon
dried on the bathroom radiator.

Pete was out of hospital two weeks later and sent me a card. It said
'Thanks for everything, won't ever forget your help'.  It took something
like another three weeks or more before the leg he broke was near enough
back to normal. When I went to his house to see him, he came to the door in
trainers and a pair of shorts on, that soft grey kind, Mizumo or something.
We went up to his bedroom. He told me that the doctors said he had to get
as much fresh air on that leg as possible.  The hospital had given him a
big tube of some special kind of ointment for it. It even had his name on
the label.  He took his shorts off and stood there while I sat on the bed
and rubbed his leg with the cream.  When they were putting the plaster on
that leg, they must have shaved the hair off it and also up the back of his
thigh, so the hairs were growing back in, very short and uncomfortable. I
finished doing that and went to wash my hands.

After that time when I gave him the wank in hospital, it was like something
had changed in how we behaved to each other, always very good friends
before that, but sort of even closer, without either of us ever saying
anything about it. When I came back from washing my hands, Pete was sitting
on the bed.  Pulling me close, he undid my jeans, letting them fall down
round my ankles, grabbing hold of my boxers and doing the same to
them. When he took hold of my cock, it was real stiff almost at once, but
instead of wanking me, he took it into his mouth and started sucking it all
the way up & down. I'd never had that before. It felt amazing.  All I
wanted was for him to go on doing it.

He had his hands round my backside, like he was trying to get more of my
cock into his mouth, and sometimes putting a hand under my balls.  Being
sucked like that, I could feel myself getting close to coming off after
only five minutes of it and I had my hands on his head. When it hit me,
Pete kept on sucking, so the whole lot went into his mouth. He swallowed &
swallowed, sucking until I was done, grinning up at me. As usual, I was out
of breath and shaking a bit after all that, and had to sit down on the bed
with him for a few minutes just as I was, jeans & boxers still round my
ankles, with Pete going on about how fast I'd lost it.

He told me he'd never sucked any cock before mine and I'm sure he hadn't.
I got my clothes back up and we went down to have a drink of something. My
mouth was dry, and I suppose Pete's was the same.  All he said to his mum
was how I'd rubbed the cream on his leg for him.

The two of us got together again soon after. It was at my place one warm
Sunday afternoon when my mum & dad were going to be away all day visiting
friends.  I put on some old shorts and found some swim shorts for Pete. By
then, his leg was fine and he could play just the same as anyone. Stripped
to the waist we played basketball in our yard for about an hour, getting
really sweaty and needing a shower.  In there, we washed each other all
over, taking plenty of time. Of course doing that got both us really hard.
Once we were dried off, we went to my bedroom naked as were were.  In that
car accident, besides his broken leg, Pete had done something to his
wrists. They weren't broken, just sprained and that's why he had both of
them bandaged when I went to see him in hospital.

Anyhow, there was nothing wrong with them then, that's for sure. When we
got into the bedroom after showering, he said he was going to do me another
good turn, like thanking me for what I did for him in hospital. Sitting on
the bed close to me, he got down to wanking me. He was doing it really
slowly, one hand stroking my balls. It felt very good. But when I was well
into it, he stopped, putting one hand flat against my belly, and still
feeling my balls, sitting there watching my face.  He started wanking me
again after a couple of minutes. I was lying there mostly with my eyes
closed, enjoying his hand on my cock, so I had no idea of the time.  He did
exactly the same thing to me, maybe 3 or 4 times, stopping wanking me for a
couple of minutes, and then going on with it again. My balls were going
tighter and tighter with all this, and it got to the point that I was
begging him not to stop again, and when I put a hand to my balls a moment
before it all happened, they'd gone all the way up the sides of my cock,
just two big lumps there.

That feeling crept up on me, followed by an orgasm shaking my whole body.
I don't know how many big spurts of semen shot all the way up my chest to
just under my chin, with Pete going on doing it until I made him stop.  He
was sitting there grinning, some of mine all over his fingers, licking it
off them.  I needed several minutes just lying there getting my breath
back, while Pete got hold of a pile of tissues to clean me up. "Know how
long you lasted?" I had no idea. "It was all of 30 minutes, promise." I
wanted to know how he'd learned to do that. He said that he just found out
for himself.  I set to and wanked him off right after that. He was in such
a state that it took me under 10 minutes to bring him right off.  For me,
it was certainly the best wank I can remember, all that semen, and I'd done
it for myself only the day before and there had been quite a lot. Seems we
were both just full of it.

Pete came to mine again another Sunday not long after when I had the house
to myself until I knew my parents would be back around 7.  That time we
also played basketball for something like an hour.  Going for a shower when
we'd finished playing, that led on to us lying down together naked on my
bed. After a bit of just playing around, that was the first time we ever
did 69. I still don't think we meant it to go as far as it did, just that
it felt so good that we couldn't stop and both of us came off at exactly
the same moment, swallowing each other's semen.  Of course I'd tasted my
own a couple of times. Who doesn't?  Pete's tasted just the same as mine,
warm and salty.  We lay on the bed together for a while, got our clothes on
and went down to our kitchen, sitting there drinking Cokes to get rid of
the taste of semen, laughing about what we'd done.

I put on a long video about mountain biking and we were still watching it
when my dad & mum came home. They hadn't seen Pete since he came out of
hospital, so they wanted to know how he was and all that.  When my dad
asked how we'd spent the day, Pete said, "Oh, just played basketball and
talked a lot of nonsense" and gave me a dig in the ribs which they didn't
see.  My mum said something about she could tell the two of us were happy
to see each other again.  If she only knew!  She insisted on him staying
for some food with us, and when it was time for Pete to get home, I walked
with him to the bus stop and waited there until it came.

Remembering all this and getting it down in writing over 4 years later,
maybe seems like disgusting behaviour for two 16-year-old boys, but it was
a lot of fun at the time.  Besides, we were so excited about wanking that
we didn't care what we were doing, the only word for us is horny,
fascinated with what we had between our legs, same as near enough every boy
is at that age. We never did it with anyone else.  From about 12 onwards,
when I got into bed, I would fall asleep with both hands on my cock, lying
there feeling my balls and hoping they would get bigger.  When I woke up in
the morning, it was always with a stiffy, running into the bathroom for a
pee with hands over the bulge in my boxers, scared in case my mum or dad
saw it.

As it turned out, I needn't have worried. Around when I was something like
14, after I had wanked myself several times and the real semen had come,
I'd just got out of the shower and was standing there drying myself, with
my cock quite stiff, when my dad came into the bathroom.  I pulled the
towel round my waist, but it was sticking way out. He just looked at me and
said, "Come on, son, lose the towel", so I took it off, my cock still hard.
He said to me not to worry when I got stiff like that, all perfectly
natural. Bending down, he had a good look at my cock and felt my balls with
both hands, saying there was nothing wrong with me there. That was all he
said.

Looking back on it, Dad must have known that I was wanking by that stage,
with a little fuzz of hair just above my cock, and my balls definitely
bigger than they were only a few months before then, but he never let on or
told me not to do it. That was probably because he knew that it would be a
waste of time telling me not to do it, a sure way of making boys do just
the opposite.  Proof of that was another boy in my class, very serious kind
of lad, another Peter, hardly ever joining in when the rest of us were
going on about wanking.

But when we were all getting stripped off for PE, everyone could see that
he had a good-sized cock, balls hanging down, with quite a lot of curly
hair there.  After a while he told two of us how his dad had given him a
talk about what was going on with growing up, and he had warned him not to
start masturbating, and keep his hands off his penis.  If his dad hadn't
mentioned it at all, this Peter would probably never have thought much
about wanting to do it, but he did get started and was quite proud of how
big his cock was.  Once when we were all in the showers after playing
football, he even showed three of us how big it was when he made it really
hard, and he wanked himself right off while we watched, shooting out
several big spurts of spunk and washing it away in the shower.

Only about six weeks after that time when my dad spoke to me in the
bathroom, I had my first wet dream, waking up in the night with that
feeling when it comes, and a big mess there, all over the boxers I had on
in bed, and on my fingers when I put my hands down to try to stop it,
useless once it starts to come.  I must have fallen asleep again, because
when morning came my boxers were sticking to me, and some of it had stained
the cover of the duvet I was under.  I went straight under the shower to
get cleaned up ready for school, and when I went downstairs I got my dad by
himself and told him what happened. He came up to my bedroom right away,
seeing my messed-up boxers and the stained duvet cover. By the time I got
home from school, these boxers had been washed without a mark on them, and
my duvet had a clean cover on.

I remember now telling Pete all about my wet dream.  The same had happened
to him, except that the mess had been even worse because he'd been sleeping
naked, so all his stuff had gone on his duvet cover and when he woke up in
the morning the cover was stuck to his belly.  His brother Jack had made a
big joke of it, like congratulating him, but he'd helped him to get himself
cleaned up and showered and dressed ready for school, and he thought it was
Jack who took the cover off his duvet and got it into the washing-machine
along with some of his own things.

Later, Jack had sat Pete down and warned him not to get into bed naked,
better to put something on, like an old pair of boxers, so if the same
thing happened again, which Jack reckoned it would, all that would happen
is that the boxers would catch the mess, and they could be easily washed
out or even thrown quickly away in a street litter-bin or somewhere like
that if they were really badly messed up. He told Pete he didn't mind if he
was into wanking, it was something that boys did, harmless, and a lot of
fun, but he should try not to overdo it, never do it in bed, and regular
wanking would reduce risk of wet dreams.

Pete said to me it was the best advice he ever had. Like the rest of us, as
soon as it started working right, I mean the spunk coming shooting out, it
was like we couldn't do it fast enough to get to the end and have that
great feeling, all over inside 10 minutes.  After a few months like that,
we found out two good ways of making things a lot better.

If we didn't do it so often, it felt much better when we did it. Also,
doing it slowly, and stopping at the very first sign of any tight feeling
in belly or balls, taking hands right off it, and drawing a few deep
breaths, then starting wanking again and repeating the whole process over &
over several times until it became impossible to stop, that way both of us
could often keep at it like that for well over half an hour and sometimes
even longer.  When it finally came out, it felt marvellous, no other word
for it. The semen would spray everywhere, leaving us with dry mouths,
gasping for breath, with hearts going like a hammer.

I'm sure my experience of masturbation, and Pete's the same, was no
different from countless boys everywhere, although for the near four years
or so that we were really into it in a big way, we never thought about
that, and all the semen we must have wasted.

(End)