Date: Fri, 9 Dec 2011 13:02:25 -0800 (PST) From: Mike Pendragon Subject: Harrington Chapter 4 Chapter 4 As the weeks passed, we settled in and got to know each other and became comfortable being in the same space. As an only child, I'd never had to share anything, especially my room, and it was confusing but enjoyable. One disconcerting thing was Teach's penchant for being naked, almost any time we were alone in the room. After classes and seated meal, he'd race back to the dorm, take off all of his clothes, grab a towel and hit the showers -- a fairly large locker room affair that served all 38 boys on the floor. It had a row of cubicles with toilets, a long open urinal of granite or marble that you had to take a step up to, and a communal shower that had six shower heads in an open area with a central drain and a single lamp overhead. Coming back from his shower, walking bare naked through the halls rubbing his towel over his head, he'd thump into the room, put the towel on his chair, turn on his desk lamp and start his studies. This open nudity intrigued me and offered ample time to study and memorize his body. I wouldn't call him beautiful; rather, he was attractive. He was athletic but not skinny, sort of a wiry wrestler's build I suppose. His shoulders were broad, his arms and legs were muscular without being too large, and he was almost hairless, except for a light down on his forearms and shins. I remember his feet had high arches and he walked a little pigeon-toed -- sort of jockish. His cock was a dream: long, plump, with huge balls and sculpted hair on his public bone. It almost looked like he was half-hard most of the time -- maybe he was -- because his junk was prominent and a focal point for his entire lower torso. His chest was broad and his tits were about the size of a quarter, with wonderful eraser-size nipples that stuck out and were always hard. He was a masturbatory dream to watch -- and I had plenty of opportunity to dream but not much opportunity to beat off. I, on the other hand, rarely was naked when he was present. Not that I was embarrassed by my body, I simply couldn't see myself being comfortable being naked all of the time. In the first place, our room was always cold. Secondly, it just wasn't me. And I was still terrified of getting boned up, which happened all of the time, especially with Teach being naked all of the time. About a week into our cohabitation I had a very bad case of blue balls. Every time I thought it was safe to crank one out, Teach or another boy looking for Teach would barge in -- our doors had no locks, something about an honor system -- and at night I was too nervous to do anything but cautiously rub my boner under the covers, my back turned toward the center of the room. Even the toilet stalls offered insufficient privacy and time to accomplish anything; 38 boys needing to piss and shit was hardly an environment for thoughtful stroking, especially when contemplating the nearby but apparently untouchable wonders of Teach. That changed the second Sunday of our stay. It was late evening, it was raining outside, the dorm was quiet and all of us were buried in studies. Somehow the faculty -- they preferred to be called Masters, although we all called them Master-baters -- had a pact to keep us too busy to get into mischief. They almost succeeded; two boys on our floor had already gone home, being unable to cope with the stress and work. About 10 p.m., I was so sleepy from reading and writing that I couldn't keep my eyes open any longer. I turned off my lamp, got my bath kit and towel and wandered down the hall for my nightly ablutions. When I came back, Teach was already in bed, so I turned off the light and crawled under the covers, thankful for the warmth and the sleep that would soon envelop me. But I couldn't sleep. The table of elements swam in my eyes, thinking about the chemistry quiz, and the math problems I'd done that night, and I wondered how I'd ever complete the English readings for the paper I had to do by Friday. I stayed completely still but my mind was racing. After a few minutes, I realized that Teach's side of the room wasn't quiet. In the half light coming through the window, it was blatantly clear that he was beating off under his covers. His knees were hitched up, his head was tilted back on his pillow, and his hand was furiously pumping under the covers. He was breathing hard and as I watched, he turned his head toward me and smiled. I gulped and closed my eyes, opening them moments later when I heard the covers get thrown back on his bed. There he was, stretched out, frantically beating his hard cock so I could see. My cock went instantly full-on hard and my balls drew up and I almost spunked without even touching myself. I'd never seen another boy masturbate and this was breath-taking and spectacular! I didn't know what to do. I know what I wanted to do -- but did I dare? Teach solved my conundrum by whispering, "Go for it. Join me." Did he want me to come over there and simply beat off at the same time? I knew I had to do something, so I started jerking off under my own covers, watching him. "No, come over here," he said. "Let's do it together." I flipped my covers back and tentatively walked next to his bed, shaking so hard I thought I would fall. "Get naked and join me," he said, sliding over against the wall to make room for me in his bed. I could smell his masculine scent, the sweat pouring from this armpits, the smell of his crotch, the gleam of sweat on his forehead. He grinned and patted the empty sheet beside him. "C'mon, Mike, you know you want to," he whispered. I dropped my boxers and tore off my t-shirt and sat on the edge of his bed, my cock suddenly soft. Teach rolled over onto his side facing me, still jacking his hard cock. He grabbed my hand and placed it on his cock moving my hand with his. I went back to instant, almost-ready-to-shoot hard, and he reached around my butt and pulled me into bed, pushing me onto my back then taking my hard, six-inch cock in his hand. I immediately shot my load, letting out a groan as ropes of cum splattered all over us and the wall behind. I'd never shot a bigger load in my life. In fact, I probably shot as much cum in that one orgasm as I'd shot since I began masturbating. "Awesome," he croaked, as his body tensed and he rolled onto his back, ropes of cum shooting from his pumping cock. Another spectacular load. He let out a huge gust of air and ended with a short laugh. "Daaaa-- yummm, I needed that," he said. "Looks like you did, too." And then I laughed, aloud, and sank back into his pillow, huffing deep breaths of boy sweat and warm cum, my body tucked against his, our hot legs and sides fitting perfectly together, our breath precisely timed, and our souls at peace. He rolled over on top of me and grabbed my t-shirt to wipe up the puddles of cooling cum, then tossed it on the floor and rested his arm on my stomach. "I've wanted to do that since the first day," he said. "I've been beating off for the past week hoping you'd catch me. Now here we are, at last. This is the way it should always be between us: best buds who can take care of each other." I suppose I should have felt guilty. This was wrong, wrong, wrong. But it felt so right, right, right. So I rolled onto my side and put my left hand on his waist and pulled us together, our sticky soft pricks rubbing into each other. Teach grabbed my hand and moved it to his buttock and held it there. "That feels better," he said. Then he kissed me, full on the lips and I kissed back -- my very first kiss with anyone except my mother. His lips were soft and warm, his breath was sweet, and when he pushed his tongue against my lips I opened my mouth and sucked him into my mouth, wrapping my tongue around his and savoring every subtle nuance of taste and texture. Definitely NOT my mother's kiss. My cock sprang back to instant hard, as his did, and we gently rocked back and forth, our hard dicks slipping between us in the remnants our our recent cum. But the intensity was gone; it simply felt good to be naked together, rubbing, touching, feeling, tasting and discovering our true selves. We fell asleep that way, naked, sated, sticky, smelly and totally fulfilled and emptied at the same time. It was going to be a great year.