Date: Wed, 15 Nov 2006 14:58:08 +0100
From: Expat Stud <expatstud@gmail.com>
Subject: Tent in the Backyard

When I was 15 I spent the summer with my aunt and uncle in Cynthiana, KY. I
had lived with my tyrannical father for the previous five years (one of
those wildly fundamentalist, sadistic Pentecostal families) and finally
escaped to live with my mother again that spring. She thought it would be
good for me to get reacquainted with her side of the family and to just be
a kid. She had no idea how reacquainted we got!

My aunt and uncle had two children, Scott and Marianne. Scott was two years
older than me, and loads of fun. We would sneak beer from his dad, steal
cigarettes from his mother, go fishing--it was a blast, I was having the
time of my life.

At one point we were talking about porn and I mentioned that I had never
seen any before. He was shocked, of course, and while his parents were at
work he showed me the stash that his father had hidden under the bed. I
remember it was all interracial stuff--white man, black woman, a bit
unusual for this area of KY, as it is very conservative. I was fascinated,
and we both commented on how hot it was. Scott mentioned that the guy's
dick was almost as big as his--I said something like, `Yeah, sure,'--at
which point he just grabbed his cock in his shorts and shook it.

I had never once even tried to see his cock before--it had never crossed my
mind, but now that he shook it at me I was fascinated. It seemed huge! And
from that day forward I kept trying to steal glances at it whenever
possible. I noticed how when we would be walking through town and he would
see friends, he would grab his cock in his shorts and shake it at them
(strange, isn't it?) But looking back on it he was probably better hung
than any of his mates.

At one point we decided to pitch a tent in the back yard and sleep
there. We talked about the standard stuff, which with teenage boys is sex
and how many girls we had fucked (none for me at that time, but like all
other teenage boys I made up fictional conquests...) The conversation made
me mildly horny, but I was tired and soon drifted off to sleep.

At some point I awoke and was a bit confused--it felt like Scott was
feeling me up! We were both lying on our sides, facing each other, and
Scott had his hand down the inside of my shorts. I did not let him know
that I was awake: I wasn't certain what would happen if I returned the
gesture. He continued to feel me up for a while until finally I was just
too nervous about it all and rolled over, and in short time I fell
asleep. I cannot remember if I ever even got hard from it all.

The next morning neither one of us acknowledged what had happened and had
yet another typical day. The weather was really hot, I recall, and once
again we decided to sleep in that tent, and I was curious as to what would
happen again. We had the same conversations--best fishing spots, cars we
wanted to have, chicks we had fucked, etc--and before long we were drifting
off to sleep facing each other, the same as the nite before. And once again
I felt Scott's hand cautiously reach to the inside of my shorts. I had been
thinking about this moment for the entire day and so I was hard as a brick
(I've always had erections like a steel rod), and I could tell Scott was
nervous, he was moving so slowly. I pretended to be asleep throughout, of
course.

I had my own hand between us on the blanket, and I felt something push up
against it, something lumpy--Scott was starting to hump my hand, very
slowly, all the while lightly caressing the head of my cock. It was all too
much for me--I had grown up in a very religious family and had once been
caught jerking off with my younger stepbrother, for which I was doomed to
hell. I'd always known that I was gay--I can remember being attracted to my
babysitter's son at 5 years old--but I was not ready to accept it. Out of
fear, I feigned that I was tossing in my sleep and rolled over once more.

Once again, the next day was the same as the first (fishing, smoking,
drinking, looking at his dad's porn), and the next night was no different:
we were back in the tent. It was so hot, I recall, and the humidity was
terribly high. Scott said something about it being too hot to sleep with
clothes on and that he was chucking his shorts, was going to sleep in the
buff for the nite, and that I should do the same. I was not as keen as him,
though--I had been raised to be very modest about my body and I could tell
from my daily peaking that Scott had a much larger dick than my own. I
declined for the time being, making up some type of excuse as to how I was
comfortable the way I was.

Once again we had the evening chitchat, both of us lying down on our backs
just shooting the shit. Christ it was hot, and I kept complaining at how
sticky it was. Scott told me that I really should chuck my shorts, that so
much of the body's temperature builds up in the groin, that I would feel so
much cooler if I just freeballed it. I finally relented--it was dark
outside anyway, and there was no way that Scott could see me.

The conversation quickly turned to sex once again as it always did, and we
were both getting horny from it--I was starting to get hard, and I could
hear Scott making some movements that could be only one thing: he was
playing with himself now and then. He started talking about what it felt
like to get head, how he much he enjoyed it, how there was nothing better
than shooting in a girl's mouth.

`Fuck, I wish I had a girl right now!' Scott rolled over on to his side as
he said it, and I suddenly felt something strange resting on the back of my
hand. It was his cock! I have no idea how big it was, but I recall that if
felt very sweaty and hot and occasionally sticky. I was freaking out--my
heart was pounding away, I was unable to speak, my breathing was very
labored. And shortly thereafter Scott slowly pumped back and forth, telling
me how he would love to fuck a chick right now, how he liked it doggie
style best, how he liked to make them get all wet. I didn't move a
muscle--I could no longer pretend that I did not know what was going on, I
could no longer feign sleep. This was really happening, and it would lead
to somewhere.

Scott kept up his steady rocking motion for a few minutes, chattering away,
his cock feeling hot and sweaty from the combination of the air temp and
his horniness. He stopped talking finally and just kept pumping against my
hand. Neither of us said a word and the only sounds was of our heavy
breathing and the crickets outside. That, and of my heart thumping.

I felt his hand touch my hand, turning it around so that his cock was lying
against my palm. He asked me to help him out, please help him out, that he
would not tell anybody, that it would just be between us. He just really
needed to cum bad and since I arrived he had not been able to do
much. `Just hold it for a bit, okay? There's nothing wrong with holding
it.'

I relented, closing my palm around his cock. It was a tight fit--it was
pretty big--and it was really leaky. Scott started to pump back and forth
with a bit more gusto, telling me how good my hand felt, that his cock was
feeling so good, that he was so horny and just needed to cum. He asked me
to grip it tighter, that my hand was feeling like some worn-out pussy, that
he liked it tight. And I gripped him harder, and he asked me to pump it for
him, to move the skin back and forth, to rub his precum around the head. He
was really getting into it, talking a lot, telling me how good it felt.

He let go of my hand so that I could jack him of my own accord, and I
suddenly felt him grab hold of my own cock. `Dude, you must be as turned on
as I am!' he said, as my dick was like a steel rod at that point. He jacked
it for me, paying extra attention to the area underneath my head, just
rubbing his thumb there. It felt great, what can I say.

Scott told me he needed to lay flat, that he was getting a cramp in his leg
from the position he was in. He lay on his back and started to jerk himself
with gusto. He asked me to rub his balls--they were loose in the hot summer
air, heavy and hairy the way teens are (and this was in the day before guys
started trimming themselves...but with the heat and the sweat, the hair on
his balls were totally slicked down.) He asked me to pull on them, and I
recall that they felt big and heavy, so much bigger and heavier than my own
nuts. I loved the feeling of them in my hands.

Scott stopped jerking himself and kept going on about how much he wished he
had a chick there, how he really would love a blowjob, etc. There was no
way that I would go that route--that would officially make me gay, and I
wasn't ready to make that psychological step--but I happily placed my hand
back around his cock and started pumping it for him. He told me that it
felt so good, that he loved the feeling of someone else's hand on his cock,
that if I kept it up he would cum soon. I hadn't even thought of that--what
if I jerked him off until he came? That would be weird. But I was so lost
in the moment, in the slickness of his dick, in the heat of the nite, of
feeling him pump his hips and driving his cock into my hand, that I didn't
think anything of it.

Scott said he wanted to ask me something, something weird, and not to be
freaked out by it. Would I put face down by his balls, just to help him
out? His girlfriends always did that, and he loved to experience that while
he jacked off, it felt so nice to feel hot breath on his nuts. I saw no
harm in it; I was horny as, and was digging his body, loving jacking his
grown-up cock. What the hell, I thought, there'd be no harm in it, just
putting my head down by his balls.

But once I put my head down to his balls there was harm in it. I could not
stop there--I couldn't help but get closer to his nuts, to try to feel the
heat as much as possible. Scott had taken over jacking his cock, and I was
rubbing my hands along his legs, along his chest, over his cock. Before
long MY hand had replaced his along his big cock while I got closer to his
balls. I was lost in the moment--it was though it was just me and his
crotch in that tent, nothing else, and I was fascinated by it. The heat,
the breathing, the moans...

Scott wanted me to jack his cock faster, he was getting closer, he really
wanted to cum. The smell in the tent was close--very little air was getting
in, so what was there fast became saturated by his musk. He was starting to
get frantic, almost whining, and he raised himself up a bit and pulled my
head into his nuts so that he could grind his balls into my face. I
couldn't help myself--I don't know what came over me--but I started to lick
his big balls. I ran my tongue all over them, up and down and around, from
the right to the left, from the left to the right. Scott was moaning
heavily, anyone could have heard us if they were outside. The air in the
tent was intense, and I knew he was about to cum--and that is what I
wanted. I wanted to make him cum.

I kept up my oral assault on his ballsack, which was much tighter now, and
I kept jacking his cock along with my own. Scott was writhing around on the
blanket, moaning and groaning and making all sorts of gasps. I had found my
calling, or so I thought: I was in heaven. I kept licking and jacking and
slurping and tugging. Scott pulled my head into his nuts event tighter and
grabbed his cock from me, yanking wildly. With one last pull of my head to
his crotch he started to cum. Good god, it was hot, like soup splashing
against my face. He just held my head still while he unloaded, and I felt
it hit my back and my head, and I felt it hit my face. Especially my face,
because by doing that I was able to smell it. And smelling it made me even
more turned on, and I ate his nuts even more.

Do you recall the first time you smelled another guy's cum, and you wonder
what you actually did? That was the moment I had just experienced, a
combination of euphoria (when everything finally clicks) and horror (when
you realize what you have done.) Scott's cum had splashed on my face and
kept spurting until it was more like a minor lava flow, just steady and
thick, covering his balls--exactly where my face was--and there was no
denying what had happened--he had just cum big time. I had essentially
allowed him to cum all over me. I was in heaven. I loved it.

Scott was breathing heavy, was actually heaving, really, He kept saying how
he had needed to cum, that this was the best nut he had experienced so far,
that he was so thankful.. I could not think of this; I just smelt his jizz
all over me, with the air of the tent sucking out all of the oxygen, so
that the smell of his cum was heavy. He kept pushing my face into his nuts,
which were covered in cum, and I could not help myself--I had to experience
the taste, I had to dart out my tongue to help him come down from it
all. His cum was runny at this point, but still pungent; still very sharp
(I was to learn during that summer that he had very strong-tasting semen.)

Scott pulled me up finally, laughing, trying to break the tension of the
moment. He finally got up--he needed a piss--and while he was outside I
could not control myself: I had to taste it. His cock smell was so heavy in
the air anyways, he would not notice it, etc. So I licked my hand. I licked
my hand and wiped his junk from my face, and I licked that too. I liked
it. I liked the taste of another man's cum on me, even though I was so
young and even though he was my cousin. I guess I savoured it.

Scott came back into the tent and told me that this had been better than
any chick, and he thanked me. He playfully reached for my nipple and
pinched it, telling me he was glad I was visiting, that he hoped we could
have more fun together. We did--I eventually started to blow him, and did
so on a regular basis (nightly) throughout the summer. Scott helped me to
realize, to accept, who I was, with no regrets or weird feelings.

I'll recount more of this in the near future. Email me at
expatstud@gmail.com. Peace!