Date: Sun, 18 Jul 2004 17:38:17 -0400
From: Captain Swing <CaptSwing@webtv.net>
Subject: My New Best Friend

I met Gary on my first day in the seventh grade, but it turns out that
we'd lived less than a mile apart our whole lives.  Our town had three
elementary schools and we'd gone to separate ones.  Though our houses
were close, as the crow flies, they were on opposite sides of the
highway that cut our town in two, so we were in completely different
neighborhoods, and, as far as we knew, our paths had never crossed.  But
all the elementary schools fed into one junior high school, so we found
ourselves sitting next to each other in homeroom, and in some of the
same classes, so it didn't take us long to get to know each other.  As
we got acquainted, it seemed we were just on the same wavelength:  we
liked the same music, had the same favorite TV shows, were good in the
same subjects, even had the same favorite color.  I still hung out a lot
with friends I'd known for years, but gradually Gary and I began
spending more and more time together.  The second week of school I went
over to his house after classes and we quickly found out that we had one
other major thing in common.

In the last eight months or so, my interest in music and TV and movies
and sports and schoolwork and pretty much everything else had taken a
back seat to my new obsession:  my dick.  I'd known about sex - the
"facts of life" - for a long time, and I'd learned about jerking off
from a cousin years before.  I'd casually played with my dick lots of
times but it had been no big deal.  It was about a month before my
twelfth birthday  that I'd been lying in bed playing with myself that
I'd noticed it felt different, felt a lot better.  Suddenly  I thought
of what my cousin had showed me when I was nine and instead of just idly
twirling my dick with my finger as I read a comic book I began to
deliberately stroke it up and down.  I knew right away that I was on to
something.  The tingly feeling was much stronger, much deeper than it
had ever been before.  The more I stroked the better it got, until it
got to the point that I couldn't stop; I was pretty sure I knew what was
going to happen.  Sure enough, the feeling in my dick reached an almost
unbearable intensity until with a sudden throb two or three small jets
of watery cum squirted out.  As the tension ebbed I lay back, breathing
heavily.  My head was reeling.  I'd known, abstractly, that this day was
coming.  I knew about puberty, about semen, about ejaculation.  But
nobody had ever adequately clued me in about how good it felt.

Everything changed after that.  Jerking off became the center of my
life.  A few weeks later I noticed little hairs starting to grow above
my  dick; that only increased my obsession.  Of course I wanted to share
my new hobby with my friends, but that turned out to be disappointing.
Some of them were willing to jerk off with me or to talk about it, but
none of them seemed to share my enthusiasm.  They acted so ho-hum about
it, like it was so trivial, almost boring, maybe even embarrassing.  I
couldn't understand their thinking:  I thought it was the greatest thing
ever.  A few of them began to make fun of me because of my constant
interest in the subject, so I became more circumspect.  I didn't jerk
off any less, but I talked about it less, and did it mostly by myself.

So that first afternoon at Gary's, I was hesitant to bring up the
subject.  We'd never had occasion to talk about sex, but I was sure he
was interested in it--wasn't everybody?  And he was the same age as
me--almost thirteen--so I was sure he jerked off.  I just didn't know
how to get into it with him without making a fool of myself.  It wasn't
that I was sexually attracted to Gary--I hadn't reached that stage yet.
I didn't really focus on individuals sexually.  It was dicks I was into,
starting with my own, but extending to every other dick around.  Gary
must have one, so I was interested in it.  I wanted to see it, see it
hard, see him stroke it, see it shoot his load.  I  just didn't know
how.  I needn't have worried.

We'd gone up to Gary's room right after eating a sandwich his Mom made
for us.  She'd been nice to me, saying it was nice to have me there, and
then gone back to vacuuming.  In Gary's room he showed me around, showed
me his typical boy stuff, much like my own.  We hadn't been there five
minutes before:

"Can I ask you something, Drew?"

"Sure, Gary."

"Do you wanna jerk off?"

As simple as that.  My heart leapt and I know a huge smile filled my
face.

"Absolutely."

He grinned too.  "I figured you would, but some guys are funny about it.
They act like they never do it, but I know they're lying."

"I know!  Why is that?  I do it all the time!  I think you're crazy if
you don't."

"Me too!"

We wasted no time in pulling down our pants and laying next to each
other on Gary's bed. Gary was a skinny, almost scrawny, kid, and barely
five feet tall, six inches or so less than me.  I probably outweighed
him by forty pounds, and I was by no means fat.  But our cocks were
almost exactly the same size, a little over five inches and about as
thick as a banana.  No prize-winners but from what I'd seen bigger than
the average for our age.  We had similar little puffs of medium brown
hair above our dicks and no hair on our balls or anywhere else.  We were
both circumcised and the only real difference was that my dick was
straight with a very pronounced rim around a fairly big head and his was
more bullet-shaped.  I thought they were both beautiful.

Our masturbation technique was similar too;  no frills, we just wrapped
our fists around and went to town.  No porno sound effects either;  we
just quietly and methodically flogged away for four or five minutes
until almost simultaneously we squirted similar size loads onto our
bellies.  We lay quietly for a minute or two, savoring the feelings, and
then turned to each other.  Instantly we both started laughing.  I was
able to speak first.

"Fun, ain't it?"  We broke out laughing again and Gary could only nod
his agreement.

We cleaned ourselves up and spent the next hour or so just fooling
around, listening to records, looking at  Mad Magazine, talking.
Inevitably, as we recovered, our talk turned to sex, and dicks and
jerking off.  I was thrilled to find that Gary was as much an enthusiast
as I was, and more that willing to admit it. Also inevitably, we soon
had to have another session, just as much fun as the first.  As I
pedalled my bike home I couldn't help grinning, filled with happiness
that I'd found a true friend with whom I could share my favorite
activity.

And share it we did.  Gary and I were confirmed jerk-off buddies.  We
got together after school or on weekends, at his house or mine, at least
two or three times a week, and each visit meant at least two quick but
wonderful cums.  It was maybe our third meeting that Gary suggested that
maybe it would be fun if we tried masturbating each other rather than
ourselves. I thought that was an outstanding idea.  I'd thought of it
myself, actually, but never had the nerve to mention it. Naturally it
was an enormous success and mutual masturbation became the norm.  Every
session was essentially the same and every one was different and every
one was wonderful. But somehow I'd become aware that there were other
things--sex things--that two boys could do together.  It took me a few
months but one Saturday I got up my nerve.  An hour or so after our
first mutual frig I took a deep breath and spoke.

"Hey Gary, did you ever do any other stuff with somebody...you
know...sex stuff?"

"Like what?"

This was agony for me.  "Oh I don't know.  Like...blowjobs or
something."

He shrugged.  "Yeah."

I blinked.  "Yeah?  You did?  Well, would you, like, maybe wanna try
something like that?  With me?"

He shrugged again.  "No, not really."

I didn't know what to say.  I didn't understand.  All I could come up
with was "Oh."

He sensed my confusion, I guess.  "I just don't particularly like
blowjobs.  Giving them OR getting them."  He thought a moment. "Why, do
you want to try something else instead of just jerking off?"

It was my turn to shrug.  "Not if you don't want to"

He seemed to be thinking intently.  "This is Saturday, right?"

"Yeah."

A slight smile lifted the corners of his mouth.  "Do you want to fuck my
uncle?"

The words were unmistakable but they didn't make any sense.  He couldn't
mean "Do you want to fuck my uncle."  I must be missing something.  All
I could do was repeat his last words.

"Fuck your uncle?"

"Yeah.  You wanna?"  His smile was broader.  "I do it all the time.  He
loves it."

This was just unbelievable. I had so many questions I didn't know where
to start.  "Your uncle lets you fuck him?"

"Yeah.  Like I said, he loves it."

"How old's your uncle?"

"I don't know. 35, 36, something like that."

"Where's he live?"

"He's got an apartment downtown.  We can ride our bikes there in like
twenty minutes."

"Does he fuck you too?"

"No.  Are you kidding?  His cock is like two feet long  He'd split me in
half."  He stood up.  "So, you want me to call him, see if he's home?"

"Wait a minute.  Just because you fuck him doesn't mean he'd let me."
Was I so matter-of-factly talking about fucking some guy I'd never even
met?

"Yeah he would.  He always asks me if I have any friends who'd like to
fool around with us.  I never did before you.  You wanna?"  He turned
serious.  "The only thing, you have to swear, swear on your balls, that
you'll never tell anybody.  ANYBODY."

"Oh I swear.  I can't imagine telling anybody anyway, but I swear I
won't."

Gary grinned.  "I'll go call him"

He returned to the room a few minutes later.
"He's home.  He'd love for us to come.  Let's go."

______________________________________

To be continued........