My "First Time": Me and Sam

It's difficult to try and pin down exactly when my "first time" occurred.
Like many people, my sexual awareness came in stages of infrequent sexual
activity, each experience building upon the one that preceded it, and each
marked by long periods of adolescent angst immediately afterwards.  My
earliest recollection of sexual activity is with my best friend while we
were in the sixth grade.

We lived in a small town in Colorado, and the several ranches and farms in
the area separated my house from those of my schoolmates.  Consequently,
the only time we could spend together was either while we were attending
school, or during sleep-overs.  Nearly every weekend one of us would spend
Friday and Saturday night over at the other's house, and our parents were
often away during the day, either in town shopping or working.  We would
often spend the time hiking, exploring the woods, or building forts; all
the time pretending we were astronauts, discovering some new planet.  Many
times, one of us would pretend to be an alien, attacking the fort (our
make-believe spaceship) with rocks, or using tree-branches as laser guns.

One afternoon, as my friend Sam had successfully defeated my spaceship's
shields with a few well-thrown grenades and viciously accurate
laser-blasts, he announced that he was taking me as a prisoner to his
dungeon (we were young enough that we didn't mind mixing metaphors).  This
was a new twist to our game, as alien and astronaut alike had never taken
prisoners up to now.  Obediently, I let him bind my hands behind my back
with a length of nylon rope and he led me through the woods to his dungeon
(the basement of his house).  The basement was partially unfinished, with
the laundry room and utility room enclosed in drywall, an open storage area
framed by two-by-fours but so far without any drywall, and a large space
that he'd outfitted with scraps of carpeting and discarded or broken
furniture.  It was here that we usually slept, as his bedroom was too small
to accommodate our sleeping bags.

He escorted me to the storage area pushed me through the upright
two-by-fours, explaining that he had activated a force field, and that I
would be killed instantly if I tried to escape. He brought a chair over and
placed it next to my "prison", then disappeared into the utility room.
Shortly he returned, carrying a large S-hook which he started screwing high
into one of the two-by-fours by standing on the chair.  When he finished,
he approached me and said, "You are my prisoner, and you have to do
whatever I say, or you will be killed."  That sounded reasonable to me, as
I was sure to be able to take him as prisoner tomorrow.  Then he walked
behind me and unbound my hands.  "Take off your shirt," he said.  I
complied.  "Hold your hands out in front of you," he ordered.  I did what I
was told.  Then he tied my hands together as before and led me out of the
cell.  He pushed me underneath the hook he had placed in board and climbed
back up on the chair.  "Raise your arms," he said.  I hesitated.  "You have
to do what I say!"  he ordered.  Finally I raised my arms and he quickly
fastened my bindings in the hook.  I was suspended so that only the tips of
my toes touched the ground.  I started to complain, but he said, "I will
let you go only if you survive the test."  "What test?"  I asked.  He
walked behind me and said, "The Wedgie test!"  Then he grabbed the
waistband of my underwear and yanked it up so hard that it lifted me off my
feet.  I remember squealing half in pain and half in a wicked sense of
pleasure, as he continued wrenching my shorts further up my backside, my
penis and balls were painfully squeezed while my underwear was stretched
into a thin rope between my ass cheeks.

Sam started laughing out loud, still pulling my shorts up.  I started to
complain, partially due to the pain, but mostly because I could feel the
tingling of an erection starting in my constricted penis.  He released my
shorts and walked around in front of me, smiling devilishly.  I tried to
kick him, but the underwear wedged in my ass crack and pinioning my dick
prevented me from striking him.  "Aha," he said, and darted back behind me
and tied my legs together with another piece of rope.  Now I was completely
bound as he returned to face me.  "How's it feel?" he asked.  "How do you
think it feels?" I snapped.  Then, nodding towards my crotch he asked, "Can
I see?"  "No!" I said, only because I was afraid he'd see my erection.
"Well, then I'll just have to torture you some more," he said, and began
tickling me, under my arms, my ribs, and then my stomach.  I couldn't bear
it.  I was laughing uncontrollably while trying to twist away from his
hands, but he wouldn't stop.  He had discovered that I was most ticklish in
the little hollows above my pelvic bone and concentrated all his efforts
there.  Finally, I couldn't take any more.  "Okay, okay, you can see, but
just for a second."  He stopped his tickling, but let his hands linger
there on my stomach.  "Are you sure?" he asked.  "Yeah" I said.

He slowly unbuttoned my jeans and slid the zipper down.  The tingling in my
penis became sharper and I knew that I had a hard on by now.  Sam must have
sensed my excitement, because he paused before pulling my pants down.
"You're really sure?"  "Yeah" I said.  Then he quickly yanked my pants
down.  As I had feared, my semi-erect penis was making a hard knot in my
underwear, and I could see the tip jutting out from the left side.  Sam
gazed at it for a long while, then started laughing, "you got a boner!"  I
was embarrassed.  How was I going to explain why I got excited?  But Sam
seemed to study my crotch with great curiosity, looking at it from either
side and from above and below.  Finally he said, "Can I take off your
underwear?"  "Yes," I said, "but first...you take off your clothes."
"Okay," he said, then he began removing his shoes, his socks, then his
shirt very slowly, making sure I was watching him.  I couldn't help it, I
was fascinated.  I remember how much I wanted right then to see his naked
body.  I could feel my penis trying to stretch further from the confines of
my shorts.  He paused a moment, then slid off his jeans.  "Ta-da!" he said
as he stood up, revealing that he had an erection as well; the tip of his
penis was poking out the top of his briefs.  Immediately, we both started
laughing and he finished undressing by imitating a striptease dance.  He
vocalized his own accompaniment as pulled his briefs down to reveal one ass
cheek, then the other.  Then he turned around and finished removing his
underwear.  "Are you ready?," he asked.  Was I ready!  "Yeah," I said, not
concealing my excitement.  He turned around to face me, allowing me to view
him fully naked.  He stretched out his arms and said, "Well, what do you
think?"  "Pretty cool," was all I managed to utter.

Sam had a darker complexion than I, and his body was a little more
developed than mine.  His face was more defined, his shoulders broader, the
muscles on his chest, arms and legs were beginning to take shape, but it
was his penis that riveted my attention.  His organ was longer and thicker
than mine; he was circumcised, like me, and the head of his penis
mushroomed out like a purple helmet; his balls, which were also larger and
more developed, hung lower from his fleshy scrotum.  But what struck me
most at the time was the crown of dark hair above his penis.  It wasn't a
great deal of hair, and scrotum and inner thighs were nearly bare except
for traces of peach fuzz, but it framed his organ so nicely, making it even
more enticing.  I remember thinking how much I would like to touch his
dick, and feel the weight of his balls, and especially to run my fingers
through that small mass of pubic hair.  He must have noticed my staring,
because he slowly inched closer to me, until I could feel the heat of his
body.  Then he pushed his hips forward slightly, and the tip of his upright
penis touched my thigh.  I remember the peculiar electricity I felt arching
through me as he began rubbing his penis against my thigh.  He was enjoying
himself, too, as he was no longer watching my expression, but focusing
instead on his penis as he rubbed it on me.  I tried leaning forward as far
as I could against my bindings to try to press my crotch against him.  Then
he took a step backwards and said, "Time to straighten you out."

He placed his hand in the center of my chest and very slowly moved it down
towards the waistband of my tortured briefs.  We were both staring so
intently at his work, so fascinated, that we were hardly breathing.  Then
he slipped his fingers underneath the waistband and touched my penis.  I
was in heaven-I didn't think anything could feel so good!  He grabbed my
dick and freed it from my underwear so that it stood up straight.  Then he
released it and looked at me.  "Have you ever done anything like this
before?" he asked.  "No" I said.  "No, I mean yourself," he said.  "No, not
really...I mean, kinda."  I said.  I was telling the truth.  Occasionally,
in bed at night, I would pull down my underwear and examine my penis.  It
felt good to touch it and to play with my balls, I may have even stroked it
a few times, or I would roll over and rub it against the sheets, but I
still hadn't discovered masturbation, which is why his next question
confused me: "Have you spermed yet?"  "What?" I said.  "Have you spermed?"
he repeated.  "What's that?" I asked.  "You're kidding!" he said, "you mean
you haven't beat off?"  "Huh-uh," I said.  "You mean you have done
this...?" he said, and through my shorts he started stroking my penis.
Torrents of pleasure came coursing from my crotch, and unwittingly I
groaned.  He giggled, and stroked my penis more vigorously, still through
my shorts.  "How's it feel?" he asked.  I couldn't answer except to groan,
and to rock my hips forward.  Suddenly he stopped.  "Well, we'll have to do
this right, then."

He bent down and removed my shoes and socks, then he untied the rope which
held my legs.  My jeans were still collected at my feet so he pulled them
off and then reached up and slid my underwear down my legs and to the
floor.  My penis was bobbing with each heart beat as he reached up between
my thighs and took my scrotum in his hand.  With his fingers he teased the
small blond hairs on my scrotum and inner thighs.  Then he clasped his fist
around my dick and started stroking it earnestly.  The sheer pleasure of it
was torture as I bucked against the two-by-four behind me, and the rope
which bound my hands were beginning to cut off the circulation.  The pain
in my hands and the pleasure from my penis was beginning to overwhelm me,
making me feel dizzy.  I begged him to stop, be he kept pounding my dick.
I was beginning to feel panicked, as an unknown feeling was mounting in my
balls and my hands began to feel numb.  Still, he wouldn't stop.  He just
kept pounding faster and faster and my groans became louder and louder
until finally, suddenly, I felt my entire body seized by a terrific
convulsion and go completely rigid.  My dick felt like it was exploding as
wave after wave of pleasure ripped through my brain.  I had no idea what
happened, I was frightened and excited at the same time, and still small
spasms continued to shake my body.  Sam started laughing again and released
my penis as he brought his hand up to my face.  "See that?" he said,
"that's your sperm."  I looked at his hand.  Around his fingers was a
clear, viscous fluid that was running in small rivulets down to his palm.
Breathlessly I asked, "That's from me?"  "Uh-huh" he said, "smell it."  He
brought his hand closer to my nose.  The odor was strong, but difficult to
describe.  It reminded me of Clorox.  "Weird," I said.  "Yeah, yours smells
different than mine," he said.  The idea of seeing Sam ejaculate was
suddenly irresistible; I took the bait.  "Let's do you now," I said.
"Okay," Sam said, without hesitation.  "Let's get you down, first though."

Sam pulled the chair over and climbed up to reach the hook.  His penis was
right next to my face.  Secretly I inhaled deeply, trying to see what he
smelled like.  It was an arousing, exciting smell; dank and musty, but kind
of sweet as well.  He lifted the rope off the hook and pain shot through my
arms.  Sam noticed my wincing and started rubbing my shoulders until the
pain subsided.  Then he untied my hands and rubbed my wrists for a few
moments.  As the pain ebbed he led me over to the sleeping bags.  "Lie down
facing me," he said.  I obeyed.  He was still completely hard, and my own
penis was twitching again, slowly getting hard.  He knelt at my feet and
started rubbing my thighs, moving slowly up towards my dick.  Then he fell
on top of me and started grinding his cock into my pelvis.  The heat and
hardness of his dick was a wonderful sensation.  "Can I touch it?"  I
asked.  "Yeah," he said, "do it like I did."

I reached down and touched another penis for the first time.  It felt huge
in my hand.  I held it for a moment, then I reached further down and felt
for his balls.  It was curiously exciting to roll them around with my
fingers and to massage his scrotum.  He rolled over on his back and I
propped myself up on my elbow so I could closely examine his crotch.  It
was marvelous!  His cock was absolutely rigid and straight.  With the tips
of my fingers, I gently stroked his penis from its tip down the shaft to
his scrotum, then back up to the tip again, where I pinch it slightly.  Sam
giggled.  "That feels good," he said.  Then I closed my fist around his
dick and started tugging at it.  "No," Sam said, "like this."  And he took
my hand in his and guided it up and down his dick in long, slow motions.
"Yeah, keep doing it like that," he said.  He released my hand to grasp my
dick, and together we started pumping.  Sam started groaning loudly with
pleasure as he began to pump his hips in rhythm to my strokes.  He pumped
my dick faster and faster and I followed his lead, pumping him with
increasing speed.  His groans continued to get louder, and soon I was
joining him, as I began to feel that building sensation yet again.  Faster
and faster I pumped his cock until he suddenly went completely rigid, his
pelvis thrust into the air, and he groaned loudly.  The first spurt of his
semen landed squarely on his right cheek, and trickled down his face and
neck while successive bursts landed on his chest and stomach.  He had
produced a greater amount than I had, and it was thicker and more opaque
than mine.  Immediately I caught its sweet scent-kind of like honey, but
salty as well.  The smell was exciting, and it was all that was needed
before the spasms of climax gripped me again, and small spurts of fluid
jetted out of my penis.  I fell on my back as Sam continued stroking my
cock until my convulsions ceased.  "Well," Sam grinned, "what did you
think?"  "That was...great," I said at last.  "Yeah," he said.

He wiped the semen from his face and neck, got up and grabbed a tee shirt
and wiped his chest and penis off.  Then he tossed the shirt to me and I
did the same.  I remember thinking how cool it was to have his and my semen
mixed together on the shirt.  But also, in the back of my mind, I felt as
if something important had been revealed to me during this episode.  At the
time, I was thrilled to be introduced to having an orgasm, but shortly
afterwards I realized that I felt more pleasure having the experience with
Sam, rather just beating off by myself-which had become a nightly ritual
thereafter.

Unfortunately, that's as far as it went with me and Sam.  There were a
couple more days when we would jack each other off, but Sam's inventiveness
was spent that one afternoon, and he resisted my attempts to experiment
with different techniques or games.  As the years went by, we saw less and
less of each other until finally, by the time we were in high school, we
didn't see each other at all.  Meanwhile, my hunger for sexual activity
with guys only grew greater, and it wasn't until I was a senior in high
school that I had the opportunity to indulge the fantasies that had been
collecting in my mind since that day with Sam, but that, as they say, is
another story.