Date: Thu, 09 Mar 95 19:12:16 EST
From: handjob@sbcglobal.net
Subject: SurfSpray 1/8 (mm/teen/mutual masturbation)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories

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CAUTION!  If you are under the legal age in your jurisdiction, get out of 
here now.  This story is not for you.  Similarly, if you are not interested
in stories about all-male, teen/college mutual masturbation, you should skip
this posting.  Bail out now!
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Please do not request personal e-mails of this story or any parts you are
missing.  Uploading this is a pain and I can't do mass mailings.  And don't
bother with flames.  They are erased without being read, so it's only *your*
time that you're wasting -- unless ya really wanna waste it. :)
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This story is complete fiction.  If you want to trade or post it elsewhere, 
all I ask is that it not be altered in any way at all, including that you 
keep all of this introductory material intact.
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I am looking for other guys here who are into writing about young dudes 
involved in mutual masturbation, like fratbrats, surferboys, college jocks,
first-time teen experimenting -- scenes like that where the dudes get all 
stiff and horny about beating each other's rods till they sperm it up.  
Please (1) only guys who are serious about wanting to trade writing, (2)
*only* stuff about mutual jackoff, and (3) only between young guys (no older
adult stories and no adult/child pedophilia).  If you are interested, e-mail
me and tell me about it, and about you.  My address is: handjob@sbcglobal.net
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                              SURFSPRAY 
                              by Handjob
 
     It lifted into a high bright curving arc that seemed to hang in 
casual suspense, then finally took this long slow curl forward, cascading 
down and crashing with a near-white splash against the dark surface.  That 
was what had really caught Kent's interest in the first place.  Not the 
waves offshore, not the sights and sounds along the beach, not even the way 
Wes surfed just as well as any of the pro-boys.  Nope.  It was the bitchin' 
way that fine straight shock of Wes' bright blond hair flew over his 
forehead, sprayed out playfully against his deep summer-tanned skin, and 
swept straight off the side of his face. 
 
     Kent had watched it every summer now for the last few years.  It 
faintly fluttered in the light breeze under an early sun as Wes would grab 
his board off the bed of his little pickup truck, stroll casually across the 
sand and stride out to the water.  Or at the end of a long afternoon, the 
straight dark mass that was plastered against Wes' forehead would slowly 
lighten while it dried under the long rays, his slender fingers finally 
sweeping up through it absently once, letting that perfect light blonde arc 
slide right back into place. 
 
     That was it.  That bitchin' couldn't-give-a-shit-but-perfect- 
just-the-same blond hair, straight and cut short except for that cool little 
flip over the side of his forehead: that's finally what really made Kent get 
a board himself last summer. 
 
     Aw, I don't mean it was just the hair or anything.  Wes had it all: 
tall, smooth, defined swimmer's build, steel blue eyes, and a face that made 
every chick take one look and just know he had to be the hottest fuck on the 
beach.  He got 'em too -- a lot. 
 
     And hey wait, it's not that young Kent didn't get plenty of looks 
too, man.  His eighteen-year-old frame was fuller than Wes', but it was 
gym-chiseled and cut perfectly.  And even though his jet black hair and 
quiet dark green eyes were a real contrast against Wes, his face was just as 
awesome-looking and the chicks were fuckin' dyin' to get boned by him.  The 
difference, of course, is that Kent had to work at it: comb the hair, pump 
the iron, snap some zits, search for the right clothes -- all that fuckin' 
shit to try and look just right.  It worked, but it was everything Wes had 
never had to give one fuckin' thought to in his whole nineteen years.  It 
made Kent want to be just like him.  And that made Kent want to get close to 
him.  And not only did that turn Kent into a surfer -- it turned him on to 
something else he'd never felt before. 
 
     Wes wouldn't know that, of course.  He didn't really know much of 
anything actually, and it would never occur to him that his natural studfuck 
looks and style would be magnetizing to Kent -- or the main reason why they 
would be.  Wes only thought waves, and the fucker was mindlessly straight as 
a skeg besides.  But inside, Kent knew why.  At first he had all the right 
reasons, like the hair, ya know?  The dude's so cool, so perfect, everything 
Kent wanted to be like and be around.  But after a long while he finally 
admitted it was more, if only way deep down back in the nastiest corner of 
his mind.  Somethin' about Kent was goin' queer for another boy, for Wes.  

     Fuck, how could it be?  Kent was one of the coolest guys around.  He 
was new to the surf maybe, but he was just as graceful a jock.  All through 
high school every dude admired his athletic skill on the diamond, and every 
chick chased his tight ass.  Hell, he liked girls -- and he *had* boned a 
few.  "Dudes like that aren't queer," he told himself, ". . . except me 
sorta."  And then each night, in the darkness of his room, after resisting 
as long as he could keep the thoughts out, finally he'd break down and do 
it.  Very slowly, his fingers would slide under the waistband of his briefs 
while his thoughts drifted nastily over Wes' body. 
 
     "So like it was this totally bitchin' ass day on the waves, huh 
dude?"  The carefree surf-twanged voice yanked Kent back to the beach.  
There was Wes, standing in front of him, dripping with saltwater, jamming 
his board into the sand beside Kent while he whipped a towel around and 
began mopping his dark, hairless chest.  "You looked hot out there today, 
dude -- no shit," he said with a pearly smile as he slipped a pair of bright 
jams over his speedo.  

     Kent tried not to stare at the small brown nipples, the tips 
pointing stiffly out off of Wes' tight flat pecs, as Kent continued stuffing 
his things into a small gymbag.  "uh . . . fuck, thanks.  I'm really only 
just getting started at it though." 
 
     "Yeah, I know.  I've been watching -- more this summer than last 
though.  But I've seen ya.  No shit, dude, yer startin' to thrash." 
 
     " . . . thanks . . . ." 
 
     "--Wes.  I heard it's 'Kent', right?" 
 

Subject: REPOST:SurfSpray 2/8 (mm/teen/mutual masturbation)
 
     "Yeah, I . . . uh . . . Kent."  And then Kent just stared stupidly. 
 With all his regular buds he never had to think twice in a conversation.  
But right now, he could only stare back, unable to think of anything cool 
enough to say. 
 
     Wes solved it perfectly.  "Wanna come over for a brew, dude?" 

     Actually, he didn't even make Kent wait till they got to Wes' place
for that.  By the time the bare-chested boys had their boards in the back of
Wes' truck and had settled into the cab, Wes had popped a beer from an
ice-chest and tossed it to Kent as Wes concentrated on the drive and the
truck squealed out onto Pacific Coast Highway.  Suddenly Wes took a sharp
screeching right and began heading steeply up a winding road into the hills
above Malibu.  "Yer gonna love this place I got, dude," he boomed over the 
radio.  Kent could only wonder.  He couldn't believe this was happening at
all.  In minutes a little bit of a buzz started setting in from the brew 
though, and soon Kent was lightening up, answering questions, telling Wes 
about how he was falling for surfing, how he missed the baseball team now 
that he'd graduated from high school, but how he was also getting stoked 
about going to UCLA this fall. 
 
     "Yup, the kegs are cool and the chicks'll make ya drool."  Wes had 
not gone on to college, he said, at least not yet, but he was invited to all 
the parties.  "A frat would be cool.  You gonna rush?  Great way to get 
pussy.  Hey, you got a chick, bro?" 
 
     "Well . . . no.  I was going out with this one girl, but. . . ." 
 
     "Hey, yeah, I know how it is, dude.  Blew off my chick about three 
weeks ago and haven't been gettin' any either.  Nobody I really want right 
now.  Lotta *this*, right?"  Wes' hand dropped into a fist in his lap and he 
pumped at the air lazily.  "Man, my fuckin' nads are so stuffed they're 
gonna crack soon."  He looked out the side window over the canyon, and his 
voice got soft, nearly drowned out by the radio.  "No big deal though, I 
guess.  I'll get it soon."  He paused, lit a cigarette and said softly, 
"besides, I always did sorta get off on spankin' the stick around."  He 
stared off dreamily for a second, then added in an almost-whisper to 
himself, "smackin' off's pretty bitchin' actually."  Finally he grinned and 
winked.  "And besides, yer hand don't cost ya dinner, huh dude?"  Kent just 
hoped the boner that was suddenly springin' up in his trunks didn't show.  
He willed it away as best he could. 
 
     In another minute they were there, the sun dropping quickly as Wes 
fumbled around in his jams for a key.  At first Kent thought they were just 
going through the garage into the house, but once Wes opened the small side 
door and pushed Kent in with a friendly arm, it was obvious that this one 
room, a barely converted one-car garage, was all of Kent's place.  It was 
wild.  There was junk everywhere: cardboard boxes, sports equipment, a bike 
in mid-repair, and piles of clothes.  Plastering the walls were tons of 
surfing posters, several of Wes' favorite Penthouse centerfolds, and a 
Miller beer sign he'd ripped off from some bar.  And so they stumbled in 
across the oily cement floor. 
 
     At one side of the garage was an old sofa loaded down with more 
stuff.  Nearby a neon sculpture of a palm tree glowed softly beside a low 
beat up table with a TV and cheap VCR.  And in the far corner was a sort of 
makeshift curtainless shower in a tiled basin that was only partially walled 
off.  "The can's in there," Wes pointed out, nodding at a door that used to 
lead into a tiny utility closet.  "I just got this place a couple months 
ago.  My first.  Cool, huh?"  It smelled half like the seashore and half 
like a locker room.  Kent instantly loved it too.  He could picture the 
chicks getting balled all night long into the sofa, dripping pussylips 
slapping with the sound of getting rammed by a bonehard teenboy. 
 
     "Guess I oughta wash the salt 'n sweat off, dude," said Wes.  "Wanna 
take a shower too?"  Kent nodded with a half-shrug.  "Cool.  Go for it, 
bro." 
 
     Kent dropped his little gymbag beside the sofa, stepped over near 
the shower, and began to fumble with his damp trunks, hoping he wouldn't go 
all hard again like some fuckin' kid.  Wes would be able to see anything in 
this open shower -- that is if he even noticed.  He heard Wes flipping on 
the TV and tuning in to MTV.  But after he'd stripped and headed into the 
tiled shower, he was stunned when he turned at a sound and found Wes right 
behind him, busy pulling down his own jams.  "Soap's over on that ledge, 
bud," said Wes as he now tugged his speedo to his ankles.  "Kinda like bein'
back in the school gym with a shower like this, huh?"  The bright whiteness 
from his hips to the tops of his thighs contrasted sharply against his deep 
tan.  His soft cock hung long and thick over two hefty eggs.  A fat vein 
trailed around the side of the cut shaft.  He stepped in beside Kent and 
twisted the water on. 
 
     Somehow Kent kept his dick from popping up while the boys soaped 
themselves, but still he snuck plenty of glances down there when he could 
get away with it and tried to guess at how long that dude's boner would 
stiffen up to.   Maybe even seven inches, he figured -- way out-classing the 
five-and-a-halfer he'd repeatedly measured with care.  Still, he liked his 
own short, thin boydick enough.  The few girls who had played with it did 
too.  When they fondled and mouthed it, they always told Kent how much 
stiffer he could get than the other boys.  He wondered how stiff Wes got.  
Did he stick out like Kent did, or did he poke up when he threw one?  Had he 
maybe even ever wondered about stuff like that himself?  But if Wes even 
took a casual glance down at the other boy's shrunken cut cock, Kent never 
caught him.  No doubt, figured Kent.  Stuff like that never crossed a *real* 
straight dude's mind. 
 

Subject: REPOST:SurfSpray 3/8 (mm/teen/mutual masturbation)

     By the time Wes was soaping his crotch though, the wheels were 
really spinning in Kent's head.  Everything about dudesex was quickly 
bursting through the surface of his thoughts in this scene.  Hard as it was 
to admit, he really was queer for this guy, and he just had to figure out a 
way to get further.  Scared?  Fuck, yeah.  He'd never done *nothin'* with a 
dude before, and he was sure Wes never had either, might even total him for 
bringing up the idea.  But would he ever get a chance to get Wes like this 
again?  Alone, naked, cunt-less for weeks.  He watched Wes washing himself 
slowly down there, both hands swirling soap around his low-hanging nuts and 
faintly thickening shaft, tuggin' it out a few times, his eyes closed under 
the spray as he sang softly along with Green Day pounding from the TV: "when
masturbation's lost its fun, you're fucking breaking!"  Kent just knew he 
had to come up with some nasty plan here tonight.  He'd dreamed about it too 
long.  It was time to finally admit all the way what he'd been wanting for a 
long time now -- to mess around with another guy, with Wes.  Nothin' too 
queer -- just beating him off.  But he really wanted to get into feelin' and 
jackin' this surferdude's long wet board.  But *fuck*!  How?? 
 
     Soon they were trading places under the showerhead to rinse off.  As 
they stepped out, Wes tossed a towel to Kent and the boys stood together 
drying themselves.  Wes put nothing back on but simply whipped open the tiny 
refrigerator and threw Kent another beer and grabbed his first.  Fuck, the 
dude was so cool with himself.  So Kent just stayed naked too as Wes swept 
his arm across the sofa and sent a heap of wadded t-shirts, dirty underwear, 
sweaty jockstraps, and paraffin blocks flying.  "Have a seat, bud," he said, 
and the boys sat bare-assed, side by side, watching MTV.  This gave Kent the
perfect angle for sneaking more great sideways looks at that heavy beachboy
dog hangin' across Wes' smooth thigh.  He really liked that thick vein that 
swirled around the shaft.  And he really liked the way the boy's big 
cockhead swept back and flared up into a strong, deep-cut ridge.  Even 
totally soft, it was a complete turn-on to see. 
 
     Hmm, it had been awhile since he'd gotten any, Wes had said.  Just 
maybe he was horny enough already that Kent could get him into it.  Maybe 
just a little on the dumb side, too.  That might help.  And around this sofa 
there was a faint odor of sperm.  This must be where he beats off, Kent 
thought, and not all that long since the last time -- probably to one of 
these Penthouses or Playboys laying around.  Perfect.  In a little while, he 
was ready with his careful strategy when Wes playfully slapped Kent's thigh 
and said, "so, bro, whatcha wanna do?  Go out 'n hunt for cunt?" 
 
     "Well," Kent responded, "first I was thinkin' about maybe gettin' 
high." 
 
     "Bitchin'!  If you got the pot, I got the matches.  I haven't done 
it too much, but I get off on it.  So, you got some weed?" 
 
     "Yeah, in my bag."  Kent leaned over and grabbed the little gymbag 
from the floor beside them, fished out a small thin joint, and held it up to 
Wes.  "It's sorta weak though."
 
     Mild as it was, in a short while they were getting a little fried.  
Both boys were slumped down deep into the sofa, slender tanned legs hanging 
long and casually out in front of them, passing the last of a roach back and
forth as MTV looked better and better. 
 
     "This is wicked shit, bro," Wes finally giggled softly.  "I'm 
gettin' wasted.  It's cool, huh?  I like the way it makes ya really get into 
the music.  Fuck, it makes *everything* feel so right." 
 
     "Yeah," Kent mumbled softly, "makes ya jus' wanna lay here forever." 
 He paused just long enough, and then added, "only thing missin' is some 
pussy to pound.  This stuff always makes me get all horny, but not enough to 
get off my ass and go chase it." 
 
     It was quiet a moment before Wes responded, his head back, eyes 
closed, "yeah . . . me too."  Then he fell silent again, dreaming of chicks. 
 
     Finally, as Kent laid the tail into an ashtray, he casually 
mentioned how hot the chick on the cover of a nearby Playboy looked.  Wes 
leaned in close to him with a dazed grin and said, "hey, dude -- if yer 
gettin' horny, ya wanna see somethin' *really* bitchin'?  Check *this* out." 
 He reached down under the front of the sofa and pulled out a hard-core porn 
magazine.  "I just got this thing down at that dirty bookstore off the 
strand last night.  I never saw *nothin'* like it before, bud.  Check out 
these pictures."  Kent leaned in close and Wes even slid closer until the 
boys were sitting with their hips almost touching as Wes held the magazine 
between them.  He flipped slowly through the photos of young chicks, firm 
tits and glistening snatches.  Just past the magazine, Kent could see Wes' 
dick slowly beginning to plump just a little.  So did Kent's. 
 
     Several pages later the shots got harder, showing the women playing 
with their pussies, their wet fingers massaging their cunts.  Not only was 
Kent now unable to keep his dick down all the way, but Wes' cock was 
beginning to telescope more too and had grown a little fatter, although it 
was still mostly soft.  But he was sitting so close that Kent could also 
faintly hear his new buddy's breathing increase.   
 
     He noticed something else too, even before Wes remembered it was 
there: on each page now there were smeared fingerprints, then an occasional 
dried splotch, probably splattering spit.  Finally it became obvious that 
the boy had slicked his bone, smacked himself silly, and had eventually 
sprayed a powerful load all over a spread of two girls tonguing each other's 
clit.  There were thick bubbly strings of clear-whitish goo splashed across 
the paper.  It was so thick that in a few places it still looked just barely 
damp.  Then the next two pages were stuck together completely.  Wes began 
giggling slightly with embarrassment as he tried to pry them apart, and Kent 
looked over to find the kid's face reddening.  Wes didn't mind dudes knowin' 
he spanked it, but he'd never even *told* anyone how he jizzed his 
Penthouses and now this thing.  And fuck, here he was *showin'* his wad to 
another boy -- way more than he'd figured he could ever let a dude in on. 
 
     "Looks like ya really liked it, huh?" said Kent with a slight dirty 
grin. 
 
     "Uh . . . yeah, I guess I sorta forgot I messed all over it like 
this, man."  He looked quickly away from Kent's face.  "I was pretty 
hammered last night." 
 
     "It's cool, bro.  I like to beat off with dirty pictures too.  I 
love porn." 
 
     Wes' blush faded some.  No worries, the dude was bein' cool about 
the sperm.  He looked at Kent nastily.  "Oh yeah?  Then I bet ya my nuts 
you'd get off on this video I rented too." 
 
     "Fuck *yeah,* man.  Let's see it!" 
 

Subject: SurfSpray 4/8 (mm/teen/mutual masturbation)

     Wes hauled himself up slowly and stood, his long wide surfboard 
hangin' out over his big beachballs, his prick thick and extended but not up 
yet.  He went over to the TV and flipped on the VCR.  As the tape started, 
Wes came back over and sat beside Kent again, just about as close as before, 
but trying to look casual as he laid one hand a little over his crotch as 
the video began.  Kent sorta covered himself some too. 
 
     The boys watched intently as the action kicked in quickly.  
"Actually, I spunked it to this thing last night too," Wes soon admitted.  
It's hot." 
 
     "A couple loads, huh?  Yeah, I jerk off alot too.  Especially when 
there's no hole to jam it into." 
 
     Wes laughed a little nervously.  "Even when there *is* -- for me at 
least.  I'm a horny fucker, dude. . . .  Um, to tell you the truth, actually 
I spurted up three wads last night, first on the rag and then twice to the 
tape.  I was ragin'."  He paused a second.  "Is that cool?  I mean, how much 
do you beat off, bud?" 
 
     "About the same," Kent said lightly.  "Two, maybe three times a day, 
sometimes even more.   All the boys probably do it that much, don'tcha 
think?" 
 
     Wes met Kent's glance and smiled a little as he thought about it.  
"Yeah, I guess so.  I always just sorta wondered if I did it too much or 
somethin'.  Pretty lame, huh?" 
 
     "Nah, just curious.  I've wondered about other dudes slappin' it 
too." 
 
     "Bitchin'.  It's sorta cool to finally talk to a dude about this 
shit a little.  I never knew how to bring it up."  Wes let out a breath and 
gave Kent a sly, brotherly grin.  "And it's way cool to know ya spank it as 
much as me, man." 
 
     The video had turned hard pretty fast, and so had both boys now.  
Kent was mostly sneaking looks down at Wes' crotch rather than the video, 
and he peeked more and more as the dude went pretty quickly on the bone, 
first lengthening out fully, then bobbing up higher with each pulse until it 
was completely sticking up in the air past the cover of his hand, almost 
seven curved-up inches aimed toward the kid's face.  Kent's own dick 
followed right along, stiffening rapidly into a hard young dagger that 
pointed straight at the ceiling. 
 
     Soon, hands just fell to their sides as neither boy made any 
pointless attempt to hide what was happening.  Even Wes figured they were 
totally cool with each other about this stuff now.  Besides, what would any 
dude expect to have happen sitting buttnaked watching a porn video?  Even 
with a buddy beside you, it wasn't gonna make a difference, he decided.  
Dudes were gonna bone it off this stuff.  Kent obviously wasn't shy about 
it.  So why not relax, just go ahead and spike it openly in front of another 
cool-ass kid?  He was just able to be himself with his new bud right there. 
 Kent was cool. 
 
     As they watched one pussy after another getting slammed to the hilt 
by studly young dudes, soon both boys were really throbbing.  Kent even saw 
Wes glancing over at his friend's total rod once in a while too. 
 
     Wes finally snickered a little nervously.  "Fuck, we're really 
boned, man.  I mean, we're *really* throwin' rods." 
 
     "Yeah, it's a hot video, Wes." 
 
     Still, neither made a move as they sat and watched the tape, but 
soon Wes squirmed a little as though he wanted to say something.  Kent's 
blood was pounding.  For as scared as he was to really go for this, he 
figured after all the jackoff talk, porn scenes and pulsing boners, the boy 
probably wanted to beat off badly by now, even right then and there seeing 
each other whackin' it.  The squirm was Wes probably wondering how to bring 
up the idea of getting some relief.  It was time.  It could go at least this 
far without sounding queer. 
 
     Kent softly cleared his throat.  "I don't know about you, man, but I 
can't take too much more of this thing without doing somethin' about it." 
 
     Wes glanced over with blazing eyes and a flushed face but looked 
quickly back to the screen.  He shifted again.  "Yeah.  Me neither. . . .  
Dude . . . do you . . .  ya think it would be cool if we. . . ." 
 
     "Yeah, man.  Let's go ahead and do it.  I'm too hot here to worry 
about anybody seein' me beatin' it, and I don't wanna miss the rest.  
Besides, it's just us."  Kent reached down and curled his fingers around his 
cock as Wes sighed with relief and reached for his own dick too. 
 
     "Bitchin', Kent.  I knew you were a cool dude.  I won't tell nobody 
we beat off in front of each other, man." 
 
     At first Wes' fist began a steady pumping but soon slowed as he 
realized the way Kent was taking his time, playing around all over his dick 
instead of going for a fast basic shoot.  Kent wasn't gonna hurry.  He was 
gonna mess with himself just right and really get up a long hot load.  This 
cool dude obviously didn't give a fuck about really getting into it in front 
of his bud, Wes realized, so why should he?  Just straight boys horny off 
their asses and cool enough with each other to really let go.  Bitchin'. 
 
     So Wes began to fondle his rod more slowly too, settling in and 
relaxing, letting himself really fuck around on his cock in front of another 
guy the same way he did all alone.  In fact, soon he was getting off on it, 
sharin' a deep secret with another cool teenkid -- cuttin' loose and showin' 
the kinda stuff he'd been doin' to himself since that first time in the 
bathroom when he was twelve.  And fuck, it was just as cool to finally see 
what another straight studly jockboy did in his bed every night too.  In 
fact, in a short while Wes was pretty much just openly watching Kent 
masturbate.  The other boy was scopin' his own strokes too, wasn't he?  
There was nothing wrong about it, Wes told himself.  Just boys doin' what 
they always do alone, but finding out how another boy likes feelin' and 
jerkin' his cock just as much. 
 
     Kent couldn't have asked for much more.  He didn't really think Wes 
was into dick, just curious about seeing another rod, seeing how another guy 
did himself, but it was so cool to finally be getting into this with him the 
way he'd dreamed of, and to see that Wes was really getting into the scene 
too.  If he was lucky, the dude just might go horny enough for more.  It 
began to look promising too, for soon both boys had pretty much forgotten 
the video altogether.  They just slowly masturbated while they looked at 
their own sticks and increasingly checked out each other's. 
 
     "You sure got a big boner, Wes," Kent finally said while he fingered 
around the ridge of his bright red cockhead.  He reached for his nuts with 
his other hand.  His littler rod was spiked as stiff as it could get, 
sticking up rigidly in the hot, thick air.  It was smelling more like a 
locker room every minute as the boys began to sweat with excitement. 
 
     "Aw, it ain't all that big a woody, dude,"  Wes replied, "is it?"  
Maybe it was.  He never saw another boy with a stiffer before, but his was 
definitely longer and thicker than Kent's.  He'd never given it any real 
thought till now, but it was cool to discover he was hung bigger than the 
other boys.  Or did they get bigger than his?  He was slowly sliding his 
circled thumb and forefinger up and down his curved shaft as he let out a 
compliment of his own.  "You got a wicked throbber there too, man.  Bet the 
babes love takin' that hot fuckstick."  He wasn't just sayin' it, either.  
Wes was getting stiffer than ever from letting his eyes drink in his buddy's 
boner.  He'd never even seen one before and here Kent was totally on the 
bone and really messing around with it.  The part Wes liked best was when 
the dude held it with a couple fingers deep in his thick black pubes and 
squeezed.  It made the whole fucker really bulge, the veins popping out on 
that straight slender shaft, the head swelling thick and red.  It fuckin' 
*looked* like hot sex.  Fuck, Wes realized, he really did like lookin' at 
another dick.  He was stoked off the scene and the horny stuff it made him 
think of.  He lazily dreamed about what it looked like when the dude did a 
fuck or when he shoved it in some chick's mouth -- yeah, then spurtin' her 
face.  Fuck, he was gonna get to see this boy splash his stuff.  He really 
wanted to watch that. 
 
     And fuck if Kent didn't look just as interested in cock now as he 
was.  The guy was staring right back.  Maybe he was thinkin' about watchin' 
Wes jabbin' pussy with his big boner too, watchin' him shoot off his longer, 
fatter gun.  It made Wes proud of his meat that another boy was stoked off 
seein' it.  Yeah, he had a bone that even another *dude* thought was hot.  
It made him like jerkin' rod in front of the guy even more, showin' off his 
stick.  After a few more light strokes, he stopped jacking and fingered his 
fat vein, making sure Kent saw how it ran all the way from the scar to 
mid-shaft, then curved around and slid along the underside to the base.  
Then he held the tip and pushed his wide, curving dick up in the air to 
stand there and throb.  With his other hand he fingered through his dark 
blond pubes, reached down deep between his legs to fondle his big swollen 
ponyballs for Kent to see, and then wrapped his whole hand around his shaft 
and gave it some slow tight strokes.  It made his thick dickhead bulge even 
redder and wider over his stonehard shaft as he snuck a dirty peek over at 
Kent's face.  The boy's eyes were glued to Wes' rodded surfer stick.  Yeah, 
he thought with a rush of pride, he think's I got a bitchin' one.  So does 
he, man. 
 
     Kent grew just a little bolder from seeing how the dude's face was 
getting hornier by the second, and from seeing how Wes was watching him jack 
it almost the whole time now.  There was sweat on Wes' forehead.  He was 
even shuddering now and then with lust.  Time to crank it up a gear.  "Hey, 
Wes . . . do you ever put any stuff on yer boner?" 
 
     Wes giggled, his face reddening a little again.  He didn't know 
other boys did that too.  "Well . . . I guess I like to give it a good 
spit-polish sometimes.  That what ya mean?" 
 
     "'Spit-polish.'  That's cool.  Yeah, like that, or other stuff too. 
 I really like to slop it up, ya know?  Beat it off wet.  Makes me 
super-hard." 
 
     "Yeah, me too," Wes grinned nastily.  "Actually, I always do it."  
He glanced over shyly for approval.  "Well, it don't look like it could get 
us any harder here, bro, but yeah, let's spit-slick 'em."  Wes leaned 
forward and dumped a big one over his dickhead, eager now for the boys to 
show off all of their private jerkoff habits.  He began workin' it all over 
his rod as his head settled back against the sofa again.  "Awwww, fuckin' 
*rad*.  Wet rubs are cool." 
 
     He watched intently as Kent spit in his hand too and slicked up his 
stick.  Both boners went instantly brighter and redder under the slimy 
wetness.  The jockly smell of sweaty crotches and horny wet kid-dicks wafted 
up quickly.  It filled the room with their sex, and it revved their starving 
teen hormones higher. 
 
     "Man, I never thought I'd be jackin' off with another guy," said 
Kent quietly as he added another wad of spit to his smacking boycock.  "It's 
gettin' fun." 
 
     "For real," Wes agreed.  He showed Kent another beatoff trick and 
spat out a long shooter, nailing his rod without moving his head.  The sound 
and smell of the slurpy rubjobs was turning Wes on to the limit now.  Kent 
was right:  this was *fun*.  The whole time they were spittin' and rubbin', 
all he could think of was how he was really getting off sharing all this 
with another boy: the way he liked to boing his dick around, pull on his 
heavy nuts, soak his rod in his spit -- stuff only dudes could really relate 
to together but never did.  And Kent was just as loose with sharin' all his 
dirty games too.  Fuck, other dudes were missin' out not doin' this.  
Finally he just had to tell Kent -- tell the dude just how cool masturbating 
with him was.  His voice was severely horny and a little shaky: "dude . . . 
this is kinda cool, huh?  Lookin' at . . . dick; s-smackin' it together."  
He searched Kent's eyes and found them drilling his own.  "Bitchin' rods," 
he went on, his eyes flying back and forth between the hardons.  "Messin' on 
our . . . bitchin'-ass rods." 
 
     "Yeah . . . I'm hot off it too, bro," Kent moaned softly.  "Whackin' 
our . . . big teendicks." 
 
     "Oh yeah, man.  'Teendick.'  You talk hot.  Ya get off on talkin' 
dirty?" 
 
     "Fuck, yeah.  Jack that fuckin' big-ass bone, bud." 
 
     "Aw, yeah, *bud*.  Dudes talkin' nasty . . . poundin' off our big 
pipes . . .  spankin' our . . . fuckin' s-surferpricks." 
 
     "Jerkin' it till we jizz up all that hot thick *fuckin'* jockspunk." 
 
     "Awwww, *fuuuck*.  Yeah, man.  Yer so cool.  Chicks just don't talk 
the dirt as good.  Fuck, Kent . . . I gotta tell ya, man . . . I'm gettin' 
*way* fuckin' hot off this . . .  off doin' it with ya."  Wes' hand matched 
the twisty strokes that Kent was now giving himself.  "Doin' it like you 
do." 
 
     "Jerk that stiff boycock, Wes.  Whackin' off all hot 'n nasty, 
buddy.  You look so fuckin' hot." 
 
     "So do you, bro.  Heh heh, we're fuckin' . . . beatoff buds now, 
huh?  Yeah, man, s-slap that stiffkid dong.  That hot fuckin' sex-spike 
looks so hard 'n dirty, bro." 
 
     Wes scooted closer, the boys' legs now resting lightly against each 
other.  Kent could feel Wes' right arm sliding up and down with the strokes 
as it pressed against Kent's side.  His own right hand was slapping his 
hardon around, making it spring up and down.  He felt Wes' lips move close 
and hot near his ear, the breathing heavy and erratic. 
 
     "Yeah . . . fucker," Wes was whispering, "play with that studboy 
boner.  Really smack that fucker around."  Wes snapped his rod up and down 
too.  "This is fuckin' *nasty*, man.  Hot . . . young . . . teenboys . . . 
h-handjobbin' it together." 
 
     "Hey, the tape's over, Wes," said Kent quietly. 
 
     "Who gives a flyin' f-fuck, dude?" muttered Wes.  He was lost in 
jackin' his dick while scopin' his buddy's dirty rubbin'.  Nah, this was 
better than a buddy, better than a brother even.  He pressed himself tighter 
into Kent and let his head rest against the other boy's.  "We don't need the 
tape, bro.  We're hotter," he whispered over the hiss of the VCR. 
 
     "Yeah, no shit," Kent whispered back.  He gripped his dick at the 
base, letting Wes get a tight close shot at the beet-red stiffness.  Wes' 
breaths went really unstable.  He was hot, horny and ready for it.  Fuck, he 
*had* to want it.  Time for Kent to go for the big move.  He couldn't 
believe it.  He was actually gonna live out the whole fantasy.  He knew the 
rest was gonna happen. 
 
     "Ummm . . . hey bro," he whispered against Wes.  "I'm no queer or 
anything . . . but . . . you think I could cop a quick feel off yers?  Just 
to see what another boner feels like?" 
 
     "*Fuck* yeah, dude.  Go for it."  Wes had been thinking of maybe 
swipin' a grip for a couple minutes now too but hadn't wanted to push 
anything.  This is perfect, he thought.  "Heh heh," he giggled with what he 
thought was a sly snicker, "I guess I may as well find out what another cock 
feels like too.  Ya mind?" 
 
     Kent just smiled back, and then both boys chuckled nastily.  So, 
like two giggling, playful young kids, the boys let go of their hard young 
wieners and reached their closest hand over to the other's rigid stiffy.  As 
their fingers curled around each other's bonehardon, each boy let out a soft 
moan, partly from his first feel of a buddy's hot, sweaty, spit-wet hand 
wrapping around his own stiff teencock, and also from finding the 
white-hotness and steel-hardness of another dude with a fully pumped-up, 
blood-surging boner going. 
 
     "Yer dick's so wicked-hard, man," Kent breathed as he finally got to 
handle rod on Wes the way he'd beat off fantasizing about for so long. 
 
     "Man, that fuckstick on you feels so . . . so sexed up too, bro," 
Wes whispered excitedly.  "What a throbber."  He felt and squeezed all up 
and down Kent's rod and even reached between the kid's legs to fondle his 
aching nuts.  "Man, I bet these fuckin' nads're about ready to blow, huh 
buddyboy?" 
 
     "Mmmm."  Kent's fingers twisted all around the surferboy's raging 
hardon, fondling the sizzling meat, running his finger over the huge vein, 
twirling his fingertips around the thick-ridged head.  "I can't believe 
we're fuckin' doin' this, bro," he whispered. 
 
     "Me neither, bro," Wes whispered back.  "It's so bitchin' feelin' 
you up." 
 
     They fondled dick on each other another minute or so, but then Kent 
could feel Wes' hand starting to hesitate, the guy probably wondering if 
Kent thought it was cool for the two straight kids to keep going on.  To let 
him know, and to make it Wes who committed to it, Kent spit in his free 
palm, dropped the glob over his cockhead, then let his right hand fall back 
to his side. 
 
     The dude was hooked for more all right.  He jumped right in 
excitedly, stoked on getting his buddy slippery.  Yeah, thought Wes.  It was 
just what he was hopin' for.  Kent was cool about gettin' into it heavier, 
letting him really jack it off for him awhile.  But he wanted to make sure 
Kent did him too.  So without moving his head from Kent's, Wes hocked 
another hard squirt of spit at his dick, and he groaned as the boy smeared 
the stuff over his throbber. 
 
     "Only problem with a spitjob--" said Wes in a minute while he pumped 
and worked Kent's rod.  "--is it dries up so fuckin' fast." 
 
     "Yeah," Kent said as his fingers started skidding on Wes' dulling 
rod.  "And then it's hard to stroke it as smooth -- like this.  Hey Wes, I 
got some suntan lotion on me.  I never did it with the stuff before, but ya 
wanna try gettin' off in that?" 
 
     "Bitchin'," Wes mumbled, his eyes only half-open in the glow of 
trading warm wet strokes.  He didn't want Kent to let go of him, but they 
both had to as the boy leaned over to reach into his bag.  Wes wanted Kent's 
hand on his rod again something awful, though, so as Kent pulled out the 
bottle and sat back up, Wes shoved himself close and let his head fall 
against Kent's again.  "So lemme feel it, buddyboy," Wes whispered as he 
watched Kent open the lotion.  "Bet it's gonna feel radical.  I mean, ya 
don't mind keepin' this tradeoff on the rods goin' a little more, do ya?  
It's pretty wicked, don'tcha think?" 
 
     Kent smiled, squirted some of the stuff into his right palm for a 
better grip, then leaned in and reached across.  "Lemme know how it feels, 
bro," he murmured as he snaked his slippery fist around Wes' bone and 
slathered the suntan lotion all up and down its length. 
 
     "Aw, *fuck*, bro.  That's fuckin'-ass radical, man.  Don't stop." 
 
     "Bitchin', huh?" 
 
     "*Fuckin'* bitchin', dude!  Keep doin' that, will ya?  Oh dude, I've 
had nothin' but my own fist for so fuckin' long now, bro.  And . . . and I 
wanna feel it the way you jerk yerself, man.  Feel the way you beat off." 
 
     "Yer gonna, bro.  I know what you want, man.  It's cool.  I'm gonna 
get you all the way off in my hand, buddy."  His slippery fingers spread the 
lube all over Wes' throbbing hardon and slid down to coat the kid's nuts 
too. 
 
     "Awwww," groaned Wes.  "I promise I won't tell nobody we did this.  
Yer such a cool dude, man.  Coolest boy I ever met, doin' this for me.  
Gonna spank it for ya too, bro; gonna whip yer big studload right into my 
fist.  Gimme some o' that shit."  He held out his right hand, and Kent 
filled his palm with lotion.  Then Wes' fingers reached down and enveloped 
Kent's burning cock, slickin' the kid down totally.  He started pumping 
sturdily.  Oh yeah, doin' a dick -- and gettin' off on it, he thought.  And 
gettin' off of bein' jacked off by another boy at the same time.  Kent was 
sliding his wet fist up and down Wes' bone a little different, but it made 
it even more perfect.  It was better than rubbin' himself.  It was sex.  And 
it was sex the way only dudes really into doin' their own dicks could do it 
to each other.  He twisted his fist around Kent's boner too as he slowly 
stroked him off, doing everything he could to make the kid feel just as good 
off another guy's hand as he was.  He had to give the best rub of his life. 
 He really wanted Kent to get off on it, to jerk him off even better than 
the kid could do himself, to make him fuckin' squirt off like a firehose.  
Shit, he couldn't believe how fuckin' bad he wanted to see the boy spray his 
stuff, feel it pumpin' from his nuts, racin' up through his dick, whizzin' 
in the air, whappin' out all over the guy -- man, maybe even feelin' some o' 
that nasty jockload spurtin' on *him*. 

     Just then the hissing tape clicked at the end of the reel and began 
to rewind as the beat of MTV blasted out in the middle of an old Modern 
English song: ". . . I'll stop the world and melt with you. . . ."  Wes 
snuggled tight as he could as his new best buddy slid his sweaty left arm 
around him while the right pumped in Wes' crotch.  Their bodies fit together 
just right.  Their heads pressed together as they whacked each other off, 
Kent's left arm reaching further, sliding under Wes' wet, hairy armpit to 
his glistening chest, rubbing up across a tight pec, scraping the stiff tit. 
 Their cheeks pressed hotly together as they stared at the handjobs they 
were trading and kicked into the pace harder. 
 
     "Awww, fuckin' *beat* me, dude," Wes moaned.  Kent's slippery fist 
was sliding firmly up and down his rigid hardon, working back and forth over 
the curve, bashing into that thick ridge each time he slid upward before 
opening his hand just slightly enough to get up over Wes' dark red dickhead. 
 Then he twisted his fingers over the head of Wes' fat rod before rubbing 
his hand back down onto the hard wide shaft again.  That thick vein felt 
like it was gonna explode under his wet palm.  He could feel the blood 
pounding through the boy's hard cock as it swelled with each hammer of Wes' 
heart.  He could feel the heartbeat too, right under his other hand as he 
rubbed over Wes' slick, sweaty chest and played with his hard nipples.  Wes 
was breathing harder with each stroke across his smooth chest, with each 
dive Kent's knowing fist took down his wet, throbbing shaft.  Once in a 
while Kent reached even further, cupping the heavy nuts in his fingers and 
fondling the lightly hairy sack as the heel of his hand rubbed back and 
forth across the underside of his bud's aching cock. 
 
     "Fuck, buddy," Kent whispered against the boy's face, "yer gonna 
lose it soon, huh?  Gonna spunk it?  Yeah, spray that nasty surferboy jizz 
out all over us, bro." 
 
     "Oh yeah, buddyboy.  The way yer whippin' it off for me, I'm gonna 
squirt the fuckin' sex-wax any second, dude."  Wes groaned and rubbed his 
head against Kent's. 
 
     "Yeah, bro, spit it out for me, dude.  Shoot that thick white 
teencream, fucker." 
 
     "Yeah, fucker.  Gonna blow, man.  Yer jerkin' me off so fuckin' rad, 
Kent.  I wanna cream yer fist, you fuckin' stud." 
 
     Kent could feel the big nuts jamming up tight against the base of 
the rod now each time his fist hit bottom.  He savored every second of 
holding Wes' big wide stonehard boner in his fist as the kid reached the 
limit, the exact shape and feel of Wes' stiff young surferboy rod burning 
into his memory for replay during a million future whackoffs remembering 
this night. 
 
     Wes' feet were kicking around, his legs squirming, and soon his hot 
slim smooth little butt started humping jerkily off the sofa as he began to 
repeatedly thrust his stiff stick hard and deep through his buddy's fist, 
right at the edge of jizzin'.  Suddenly he groaned deeply and then cut into 
a high thin whine as he held his ass an inch off the sofa, his body 
completely rigid.  One long hard burning squirt of teenboy fire hosed 
straight as an arrow above his chest, above his face, and blew straight 
through that arc of bright hair over his forehead, half of it splattering 
all over the top of his head and down his shoulders and back, and the other 
half whizzing right on past the back of the sofa.  He gripped Kent's rod 
tight and held on as his butt crashed down again and his body lurched 
forward.  "Aaaaahhh, fuuuuuck!" 
 
     Long streams of thick white surfsperm were jetting out, spraying Wes 
in the face, splashing over his neck and chest, blasting against Kent's left 
hand and forearm as the boy smoothed the silky slick sperm over Wes' pecs 
and tits.  "Yeah, you fuckin' hot-ass studfuck, blast that fuckin' kidcream 
out, Wes." 
 
     "Fuckin' *jack* my *rod*, dude," Wes panted gruffly.  So fuckin' 
*bitchin'*, man, yer beatin' it so *cool*!  I'm . . . fuckin' . . . 
*chuckin'* it."  Wes ground his wet face against Kent's and shuddered as the 
boy milked and worked him, rubbing strong and hard, stroking up thick gushes 
of his horny, smelly wad that smacked and studded against Wes' stomach and 
started fountaining over Kent's fingers and wrist.  The air filled with the 
harsh smell of Wes' tight-packed nuts unloading his blow and the loud 
sloshing of Kent's tight fingers slogging through the slurpy syrup all over 
the boy's big beachcock. 
 
     Through it all, Wes never lost his grip on Kent's brickstiff boner. 
 And even though he was still spewing wads of his chunky spunk out over 
Kent's hand and arm and both the boys' thighs, just as soon as he could 
regain a little control Wes dug in and began grinding away on Kent's cock 
again.  "Fuckin' whammin' it on ya, buddy.  Gonna make you dump that fuckin' 
load here too, Kent.  Just as fuckin' nasty as you did me, bro.  C'mon, 
fuckerboy, gimme a fuckin' fistful o' that hot dicksauce, you stud." 
 
     Wes leaned over and reached in with his other hand now too and began 
to fondle and stroke Kent's boiling nuts.  "Yeah, ya hot fuck, yer horny 
young teenboy nads're ready ta blast me, huh kid?" 
 
     Kent could only moan but kept feeling and stroking the sticky hardon 
in his hand as he felt Wes take him all the way. 
 
     "C'mon, Kent.  Jizz it off for me, buddy.  I wanna see ya cream, 
kid.  Wanna feel you squirt yer stuff so *bad*, bro."  Wes fingered the 
boy's balls until they pulled clear up and then he rubbed his palm over them 
as they hugged the base of the kid's rod.  The boy was there. 
 
     Kent gripped Wes to him tightly with his left arm as he felt himself 
fall over the edge.  Wes' face was in close with both of his hands working 
all over Kent's stiff boner and aching nuts: "c'mon, bro.  Jizz it, 
fuckerboy."  Suddenly a big thick mass of the kid's hot glue busted out and 
burst up in the air as Wes slid his hand into Kent's pubes and squeezed the 
boner firmly.  "Yeeeaaaaahhhhh," Wes huffed huskily, and right in the middle 
of the word, a hard spray of Kent's seed squirted straight in and splattered 
against the roof of Wes' mouth.  "Fuckin' *awesome*."  Wes gasped with the 
dense odor as squirt after squirt of the boy's ripe tangy jockload rinsed 
his lips, teeth and tongue.  And not just his mouth, man.  Kent was hosin' 
his jockboy fuckjam all over Wes' horny face.  Thick slimy streams of Kent's 
horniest, clumpy teenkid spunk blasted the boy and ran down his face and 
neck. 
 
     It wasn't bothering Wes one bit, either.  He was snickering and 
snorting and calling Kent a hot-sex fuckerboy with every new whizz that 
blasted against him.  He pumped off Kent's bone hornier than ever, milking 
out every last pellet of the kid's rich cream until finally Kent was 
squirming and clutching him and beggin' the boy to let up.  Finally, he 
slowed his strokes, leaned back against the sofa and began to just fondle 
the soaked rod in his fist the same as Kent was still doing to him. 
 
     "Man, ya really dumped one on me, stud," Wes chuckled mildly.  "That 
was cool -- feelin' a dude's fresh jizz squirt out."  He paused, let the 
heavy load that had nailed his mouth roll around in there a second, then 
added, "tastes pretty nasty, buddyboy.  You popped a wicked one, lil' 
studpuppy." 
 
     "So did you, fucker.  Fuck, that was awesome, bro." 
 
     Wes released Kent's cock and wrapped his dripping arm around his 
buddy, pulling him close.  "Sure was, bro.  Told ya I was a horny fucker."  
He slid his fingers up and down over Kent's chest and arm for several 
minutes as Kent snuggled into him, his face falling into Wes' sopping chin 
and neck. 
 
     "So cool ya like to beat off as much as I do, man," Wes finally 
whispered dreamily.  "So, dude--"  Wes started.  Kent looked up lazily into 
the boy's bright blue eyes.  Wes' eyebrows jumped nastily: "wanna do it 
again?"

Copyright 1995 Handjob.  All Rights Reserved.

***************************************************************************
Are you into writing about young dudes involved in mutual masturbation, like
surferboys, fratbrats, college jocks, first-time teen experimenting-- scenes
like this one?  Let's trade them.  See the message with ground rules at the
beginning of the first message in this story and then e-mail me about it.
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