Date: Mon, 19 Feb 2007 14:49:07 -0800 (PST)
From: John Smith <johnqpubiciv@yahoo.com>
Subject: Beginnings II

Following my tryst with Nick I hit a little bit of a losing streak sexwise,
mostly the product of lack of opportunity.  Back in that time in a small
town you had to be very cool about trying to get into other boys pants.

I thought another of my brother's younger friends, Mark, had been putting
out hints and was ready to give it a go, but when I got him alone in our
house he did everything but scream bloody murder.

Another neighborhood kid, Sam, was my next target.  Back about this time
someone had come up with the notion of the topless swimsuit, and I had
managed to get a copy of a magazine with a photo spread on that topic.  The
model was Barbara Feldon, an early jacking fave of mine, who went on to
become Agent 99 on Get Smart.

But I digress.  Although even in the most revealing pics her hands were
covering her boobs, the whole idea was enough to get me hard as...well, as
usual.  I talked Sam into coming up to my room to take a look.

Rather than ending up with our dicks out paying homage to the delightful
Ms. Feldon, Sam took about as much interest in the quasi-porn as he would
in a gardening catalog.  My career as a master seducer looked to be about
over before I even hit 12.

Fortunately, baseball, the same sport that got Paul and I together in his
basement, came through again and started me on the longest sustained sexual
relationship of my premarital life.

Our town had a population of less than 1,000, which supported exactly one
Little League team.  Uniforms were paid for by selling ads on the back...I
think I represented the phone company for most of my career.  Bats, balls,
and the other stuff were bought through the proceeds from Tag Day.

Tag Day was the day when the Little Leaguers fanned out throughout town and
accosted the populace to purchase construction paper and string tags to
where which indicated their financial support of Little League Baseball,
and now Leave Me the Hell Alone.

Another Sam and I (I know, less than 1,000 and we're repeating names) took
it upon ourselves to go above and beyond the call of duty, even to the
point of riding our bikes out into the country to the Hofstadter farm (you
don't know them) to squeeze the last quarter out of the community.

Now at that time a bicycle was a Schwinn, with the sort of balloon tires
you now see on mountain bikes.  Bikes were one speeds, except for the rare
multi-speed bike that for some reason we called "English Racers".  The only
kid who had one of those was one of the few who never went out for football
in high school, so it was not a prestigious ride.

A full day of bike riding, even at our age, was a good deal of work.  As we
returned to Sam's house, he asked if I wanted to stay all night, the early
60's equivalent of a sleepover.  I was fine, and, school being out, my
parents were agreeable as well.

After supper we basically went straight to bed.  Sam had a great bed, a
giant brass queen-sized number.  As we lay there in our tighty whiteys, Sam
passed on some information of which, heretofore, I had been unaware.

"You know, if you ride your bike a lot you make a lot more jizz, cuz of
your nuts moving all around."

While I was not exactly sure about his grasp of biology, I had no problem
with where the conversation appeared to be going.

"Wow" I replied, with unfeigned enthusiasm "we must have a whole bunch
about now.  You want to jack off or anything?"

Sam's response was to get up and dash into the bathroom and come back with
about half a roll of toilet paper.  Apparently he believed his theory.

We each shucked our briefs and got down to business.  At that point, I got
a look at my first uncircumcised dick.  (Because we were one grade apart, I
had never seen him in P.E.)  However, Sam's uncut dick was of secondary
importance to me at that point, as my own took first priority.

"Are you gonna let me watch you shoot?" Sam asked.

"Well I wasn't gonna make you leave the room.  Why do you ask?"

"Cuz I was jackin off with Jim (last name withheld) and he wouldn't let me
watch him shoot."

Filing Jim's name for future reference, I invited Sam to watch me all he
wanted to...having developed the beginnings of a streak of exhibitionism
that I have yet to outgrow.

Sam didn't have to wait long to see what he wanted.  While we didn't take
measurements to test his theory, we did, between to two of us, managed to
go through all of the toilet paper.

"We gotta put our underwear back on in case someone comes in" Sam
instructed.  So the uncut object of my new affection disappeared, but it
would be seen again soon.

It was maybe a day or so later when I got a call from Sam.

"You gotta get over here.  There's something you'll want to see."

Given the results of my last visit, I found that a credible representation.
I made it from my house to Sam's in under 10 minutes.

He met me at the front door and we went up the stairs to his room.

"You gotta be quiet" he warned.  "And try to stay down."

We went into his room, and he immediately dropped to the floor and
low-crawled to the window.  The curtains were parted, but the shade was
about three-quarters down.

I followed him, and gradually raised up to look out the window at whatever
was causing the commotion.  It was, by the standards of the day, seriously
hot.

Sam's neighbor, a single mom, and her high-school aged daughter were laying
out sunning themselves in two-piece swimsuits.  Let the record show, Mom
was very well preserved, and Daughter had apparently picked up a great deal
of her mother's more essential DNA.

The effect was heightened by the fact that the pair had loosened the straps
on the tops so they could pull them down and get an even tan on their
shoulders, the result being a major league cleavage alert.

Sam rolled over on his side, pulled his pants out, and started working his
dick.  Apparently our previous engagement had served as a one-time
ice-breaker.  I joined him.

"Can you jack me off while I watch them?" he asked.  That was a big-time
affirmative.

While I would have preferred to take a little more time handling him the
first time out of the gate, I don't think delay was what he was looking
for.  I still hadn't handled that many cocks, and so had little to go by
except what worked for me.

I started squeezing at the base of his cock, and pulling up a little.  I
then squeezed again, a little higher.  As I reached the top of his dick, I
used just my thumb and first two fingers to provide pressure.

Whether or not it was a world class hand job, it had the desired effect on
Sam, although during clean up we thankful that we had been laying on a
hardwood floor as opposed to shag carpet.

My interest was less in the boob party downstairs than having Sam
reciprocate.  I lay on my back as he grabbed my dick.  Once I was able to
adapt to his technique it didn't take me long.

Because his parents were still at work, and his sister was at her
boyfriend's house, we were able to keep our dicks out a little longer.  My
sexual encounters to that point had been a series of quickies.  It seemed
very sexy to just lay around with another guy and look at each other.

"Thanks for calling me" I said.  "Do they do that a lot?"

"Sometimes.  It depends on whether or not Dee (the mom) has to work."

"Can you imagine being some lucky guy fucking both of them?" I asked.  Not
that I could imagine fucking period at that point in my life, but it
sounded good.

"You know what's almost as good as fucking?" Sam asked.

I confessed ^Ö honestly ^Ö ignorance.

"It's you can put it in someone's mouth it feels almost the same as
fucking."

This was very new information.  "You ever done that?" I asked.

"No.  You?"

I also confessed my oral virginity.

"Too bad for both of us" Sam said.

Neither one of us said anything for a few moments.  If there was a Mount
Rushmore for pregnant pauses, this would have been on it.

But before either one of us could say anything else, the screen door on the
front porch slammed.  Sister Katy was back from her boyfriend's, and our
clothes were back on.