Date: Mon, 09 Sep 2002 06:21:01 -0400
From: Less Ismore <slickster3x@hotmail.com>
Subject: Swap Sucks

Disclaimer: If you should not be reading or downloading or accessing in any
way, stories or narratives that involve sex between youth or people of the
same sex then go somewhere else, now!

________________________________________________________________________

Still there?  Good. This story is based on actual events a long time ago
when I was a teenager.  It is a description of the first time I ever had
sex with another person of my own gender. I wrote it as a remembrance for
the other person mentioned in this story, whom I have not seen in a long
time. Thanks to the Internet we have been re-united via email, he even
contributed to the final version of this story. I hope it brings back
memories of your first time and that they are as pleasant as mine. In fact,
I'd enjoy hearing about your first time epxeriences. Just write me at
slickster3x@hotmail.com.
________________________________________________________________________

It was a hot July afternoon. The municipal swimming pool in my little
hometown was full of kids having a good time and avoiding the damp
oppressive heat.  Splashing around for a while is fun, but, it can get
boring, and the pool was too full to swim laps or work on the butterfly
stroke, so I joined in a game of tag with eight or ten other boys roughly
my age. They ranged from the obnoxious jock bully to a couple who were
probably too young to be playing with 15 year olds, but were good enough
swimmers to be a real challenge for anyone of any age to catch.

One of the participants was Chuck, a year or so younger than me, probably
about 12 or 13. The game was turning rowdy with a lot of pushing, grabbing
and shoving. Some of the tags had crossed the line from a touch to a
balled-up fist smack on the shoulder.  When Chuck was it, he would leap at
the nearest person and tag them, I guess he lacked the confidence to try to
out swim some of the guys, since most of them were on the swimming team and
moved very fast in the water.

I was in a splashing match with Butch, one of the swimming team members. We
were furiously slamming our hands and arms into the water, propelling
untold gallons of water at each other, a contest that often broke out for
no reason and ended when one or the other's eyes were too blurry to
continue or the arms were too tired. In the middle of this battle that we
pursued as though it were to-the-death, Chuck tagged me by grabbing half my
ass.

"You're it, now!" he shouted and ran away as fast as one can in five feet
of water. I turned to my opponent in the splashing match, popped him on the
shoulder, announced he was "it" and quickly dove to the bottom and pushed
off towards shallower water. I surfaced near Chuck. By that time, the "it"
had already made the circle of participants, and Chuck was it, again. He
turned and tagged me, falling towards me and, I thought, steadying himself
by grabbing at my leg, although his hand ended up in my crotch.

At fourteen, any touch to a boy's crotch stirs up all kinds of feelings and
starts things in motion, too. I noticed that it felt good, but my mind was
also focused on tagging someone and they were all rapidly paddling away
from the circle as though it was a synchronized swimming exhibition. I
caught one of the slower escapees by the foot, pulled him backwards in the
water so he couldn't say he didn't feel it or some such junk, and, when he
had to lift his head out of the water, announced right into his ear,
"You're it!" And did my dive to the bottom like a sounding whale. As I swam
under water by Chuck, his hand brushed the underside of me from my left
nipple all the way down, and over the front part of my bathing suit,
producing a tremendous stimulus. Again.


I surfaced and turned to him, expecting to say something, but he reached
out and poked me with his flat hand in the groin again and said, "You're
it". I looked around and realized that the game of tag was for all intents
and purposes over since all the players had swum off in different
directions and it was too difficult to chase one person around with the
pool as crowded as it was. I poked him back on the chest, passing the "it"
back to him and headed for deeper water where there were fewer people and I
had a distinct advantage because of swimming skills. But here he came,
paddling and holding on to the side of the pool, gripping the little
circulation trough that was built in to the side of the pool under the cove
of the actual pool deck. He held on there for a moment, I was treading
water and trying to catch my breath from all the activity. It was then that
he boldly grabbed my dick and balls fully in the palm of his hand and
shouted, "You're it!" again, laughing all the time.

Things got a little fuzzy then as I was much more conscious of my crotch
than almost anything else. I looked him in the eyes, and said, "If you want
a hand full of pecker, go under, as if I really had enough to be described
as a "handful".

We both pushed off the side, straight down, feet first to the bottom in
about seven feet of water and stood for a brief moment on the bottom while
he stretched out his hand and with his fingers, manipulated my dick, which
was beginning to swell. And then our natural buoyancy began to pull us back
to the surface. When our heads had cleared the surface and the water was
wiped or shaken from our eyes, I led him on some more by saying, " I
thought you were going inside."  Meaning inside my bathing suit.

"Okay," was all he said and pushed back down to the bottom. Once there, he
worked around behind me, reached into the front of my suit and took my dick
in his fingers, again and pumped it two or three times. All I thought was,
"Wow!" The sensation was tremendous! I was disappointed when we had to stop
because of the inevitable drift back to the surface. He shook our eyes
clear again, both now holding on to the trough in the side of the pool and
paddling a little with our feet.

"If you want a hand full of pepper, go under," he said. I noticed that he
said "pepper" instead of pecker, and wondered if he was that hot, but also
I thought, "Why not."

Now I had touched another guy's dick once before, on a camping trip with my
next-door neighbor when we had gotten into a mutual masturbation
session. It was nothing elaborate, just a few pumps on his while he was
doing mine, and then I had taken mine back in hand because I was big-time
horny and wanted to come, and his rhythm wasn't right for me. I had enjoyed
playing with is all right, it had a different feel than mine, and I liked
that. But my needs were pretty urgent at the moment so I went for the goal
of instant gratification. And of course lost all interest in his once I had
experienced that most wonderful of all sensations, a much needed orgasm. It
was dry at that stage of my life. But damned good anyway.

Now I was faced with another opportunity to handle another boy's dick and I
was looking forward to it. We pushed off for the bottom, before we reached
the bottom; I had my hand inside his bathing sit and was beginning to
handle his already hard dick. I was a little smaller than mine, I noticed,
but of ample size, nonetheless. I was swirling the water with my free arm
to stay down longer, but he started drifting back up to the surface, where
he grinned and said, "That's fun."

Without another word, he pushed off to the bottom again and I followed
him. We tried, more or less successfully to mutually grope each other,
before re-surfacing. And that was the end of the swimming pool part of our
adventure. The management of the pool charged admission by the hour.  At
the end of each hour, an old brass bell clanged signaling that it was time
for everyone to get out, stand in line and be re-admitted if you had the
price or admission or a season ticket. Chuck gave my crotch one more gentle
squeeze and asked if I was coming back in.

"No I said," I have to get home by four.

"I guess I should too, he said, although I don't think either of us
believed that the other was that intent on getting home by some prescribed
time.

He followed me to the dressing room where we both changed into out street
clothes. We were in different sections of the dressing room because of the
lockers we had used to store our clothing. As we left, he asked where I was
going. I suggested we go to the library.

I had a plan.  The town library was relatively new and had a lot of great
books. I spent a lot of time in the summer there, selecting and checking
out books, reading magazines (Popular Science was a teen-ager's
wonderland.) and just generally hanging out. It was one hot afternoon like
this one that I discovered that almost no one except the library staff was
in the building and they were all female. What that really meant was that I
had the men's room all to myself, so went into the small stall, locked the
door and had a nice, secluded jerk off. That was couple of summers before
and had grown to become one of the regular features of dropping by the
library on the way home from the pool.


My plan was to ride our bicycles to the library, go into the men's room and
continue to play with each other's dicks. When I suggested the library,
Chuck looked a little surprised, but when I told him about the rest room,
his face brightened up some.

When we arrived at the library, we dropped our bikes in the grassy area
beside the side door and went in straight to the men's room. The room
itself was a tiny little place, a lavatory on the left separated from a
urinal by a partial partition, and then the stall. We went in, locked the
door and I immediately had a feel. We dropped our pants and freed up our
fully erect penises that we straining to get out of our jeans and
underwear. I reached over to his and marveled at the rigidity of his as I
moved the outer skin up and down, one finger feeling he soft skin of the
head while the others did the manipulating. All the while, electrifying
sensations were radiating from my own dick as he kept a firm pressure on
mine as he moved the skin back and forth. We stood like that for I don't
know how long, slowly jerking each other and marveling at how good it
felt. And then I had an idea. I wanted to move beyond simply jerking off to
some sucking. Actually, I wanted to get sucked. But once that was in play,
I should have known I was going to get my turn.

So I brought it up.  "Have you ever sucked one?" I asked.

"No," he replied, "have you?"

I told him no, but said maybe we ought to try it.  I was almost quivering I
was so excited when he nodded his agreement that maybe we ought to try. I
mean her I was standing behind a locked door, both of us with our pants
down around our ankles, holding each other's dicks and talking about one of
us sucking the other. I didn't care at this point who did the sucking, I
just wanted to get on to that stage.

I think it was my idea that we flip a coin to see who was going to do the
sucking. And all I had was a souvenir "lucky coin" from some tourist trap
one of my relatives had visited. I had to show it to him to prove that
there were actually two different sides. He picked one as his; I took the
other and flipped the coin. I caught it in my palm, flapped it down on the
back of my hand and lifted my palm to see that my side was up.  It was
mine.



My heart jumped. I was going to get to suck his dick! By now I was almost
trembling. But I had to be cool, so I shrugged my shoulders, and sat down
on the commode. At least I could jack myself while I was sucking him. He
stepped up, duck walking slightly since his pants were down around his
ankles. And there it was ... staring me right in the eye, a rigid 13 year
old five + inch dick and a nearly hairless pubic area.

I realized I had no idea how to suck a dick. All I had ever heard was the
old joke about "Open your mouth without showing your teeth", and then being
told it looked like I'd make a good dick sucker.

So, I asked chuck, "How do I do this?"

"I don't know!" was his emphatic response.

 So I tucked my lips over my teeth and leaned forward, closed my eyes and
began to move my mouth up and down on the first dick I ever sucked. I was
so green.  I soon realized that technique didn't work for me and probably
not for him, but even after I took more of his dick into my mouth, only my
lips touched him.  As I bobbed my head up and down on him. I tried to get
it all in my mouth, but he was too large for my virgin mouth. But that
didn't stop me from trying to push it all in until my nose was on his just
emerging bush. The gag reflex kept me from my goal. Even at that early age,
the thrill of seeing how much I could get in my mouth was a big turn on.

My mouth fell into a rhythm on his dick and my hand was into a pattern on
my own. I was starting to feel really good, when he suddenly pulled back
and said, "My turn."

"Are we going to swap sucks?" I asked.

"I guess so," he answered as we swapped places and he sat down on the
commode and I stood up. As I turned toward him, I didn't think about the
fact that I was about to get my first dick sucking on the same day that I
sucked my first dick. As he slipped his warm wet mouth over the head of my
raging hard-on, I thought it was the most wonderful feeling I had ever
experienced. In spite of the intensity of the feeling, I couldn't help but
notice that his tongue was flipping about on the underside of the head of
my dick, and it felt great. I knew right then I was going to suck him again
because I wanted to try that on him. I wanted him to have the same
sensations I did.

I just stood there, soaking in the ecstatic sensations. And then he
stopped. Perhaps he could tell that I was nearing the explosive stage. "I
want to try again," I said, almost breathlessly. We traded places again; I
sat down and began to practice cocksucking on the only one I had ever
tasted. This time I remembered to not only to make lip contact and maintain
a rhythm that he seemed to like, but to let my tongue explore the underside
of his dick.  All the while, I was jerking my own, faster and faster. I
don't know how much time passed before he said, "I'm about to come," and
pulled his dick out of my mouth. "Stand up," he added and then proceeded to
jack off into the commode. Following his cue, I stepped up, gave my own
dick a few strokes and took my turn at spewing cum into the clear water in
the bowl.  Thus satisfied, it didn't take us long to get our pants back on,
and get out into the hot summer air. Once outside we hardly talked about
what we just did.


I was a little uncomfortable about the silence, and said, "I'll see around,
maybe we can do that again. "

"Oh, yeah," he said, and was on his bike and off towards his home. I slowly
pedaled off on mine, thinking all the while about what had just
happened. Before I was home, I had another raging hard-on from the thinking
and remembering. And to my frustration, I had to wait until after bedtime
to ease that incredible tension.

There were many other episodes in our remaining years in high school. But
that's enough for now. Maybe more later.

#   #   #