Date: Mon, 30 Mar 1998 19:07:19 PST From: J Alfredsson Subject: Joe and I This is my first story. I'm just starting this hobby and hope to continue it for awhile. I'd like to hear what you think. E-mail me at MrStoryMaster@hotmail.com A True Story About Joe In high school, Joe and I worked together at a nearby, family-owned restaurant. It was a small operation: two waitresses, a bartender, a cook and a dishwasher/busboy. He was the cook. I was the dishwasher/busboy Joe had been working at the restaurant since he was a sophomore, and when the dishwasher job opened up the summer before our senior year, he asked me if I was interested. We were pretty good friends and since he lived a block away, we could car pool, so it sounded like a good idea. It turned out to be a great idea. Joe was about 6'1" lean and muscular, about 175 pounds. he tanned easily and his smooth hairless body was always gold. He wore his dark brown hair neatly trimmed on the sides and kinda wavy on top. The waitresses always flirted with both of us, but we didn't waste our time with them. Our schedule that summer was simple, relaxing and what high school summers should be like. We worked 3 to midnight, drove home, drank beer, watched Letterman, shot pool in my basement rec room and shared conversation. My folks were always sound asleep and neither one of our parents cared if we drank as long as we didn't go out driving. We usually called it a night around 3 or 4 a.m. after we'd got a pretty good buzz on and couldn't keep our eyes open. Sometimes we'd just crash on the couches in my basement. As the summer progressed, our friendship grew. We talked about school, girls, work and sex. Sex became more and more a topic of our conversation. We'd talk about girls in school, what we wanted to do to them, their bodies and stuff like that. The talk stayed hetero -- until one night about halfway through summer. It was a Monday or Tuesday, one of those 95-degree, humid-as-hell days. At the restaurant, business was horrible. The owner, who was also the bartender, decided to close up shop early after no one walked in the door after about 9:30. Sensing an opportunity to get the hell out of the hot kitchen a little early, Joe and I rushed through clean-up. We were able to clock out at about 11:15. A cold case of Bud in bottles awaited us. We lived in an old house so central air was out of the question. The room air conditioners were set up in the bedrooms, so the basement rec room was probably in the 80s that night. We both had our shirts off before we finished the first beer. We were both in a pretty good mood and our affection for one another was at a point where we were just totally comfortable, best friends. We shot some pool and decided against Letterman. Joe flipped through the stations and found a raunchy movie on one of the cable channels. It was one of those titty-teaser movies, lots of breasts, but leaves out the rest. It still did its job though. "She's hot," said Joe, gawking at a bimbo on the screen who'd just lifted her cheerleader sweater to reveal a pair of melons. "Pure silicone," I said. "Your shot, Joe." He didn't move. The scene turned out to be a lesbian scene. The cheerleader was flashing another cheerleader under the bleachers. "That's hot," said Joe, as the cheerleaders began kissing each other. "I love lesbians," I said as a bulge began to form in my pants. The scene ended quickly, but our horniness stayed. We returned to out pool game. "Yeah, lesbians have always turned me on," Joe said, lining up a shot. I noticed his package had also sprouted to life. I always liked to sneak a peek at Joe's crotch, or chest or ass. He had a perfect body. We'd gone swimming a couple of times and I loved to see him with just shorts on. I knew I was also attracted to guys long before my senior year. Luckily, my folks had no hang-ups and were pretty liberal. They -- and a lot of stuff I'd read -- taught me that human sexuality was complex, so I was -- and still am -- comfortable with my love of sexuality, both male and female, although I keep it a secret. "Yeah, I think it's great that they have said, 'Fuck society, let's have fun.' Society has way too many hang-ups. It's crazy to think everyone is the same when it comes to sex," I said, honestly stating my opinion. "I agree," said Joe. "We have too many problems without worrying about who people should love." "Who do you think is gay at school?" I asked, putting an end to the serious talk. "Hmmmm," Joe said, leaning against his cue. "I bet Mike Carroll is, I mean, he seems to love showing off his body for other guys. He wears Speedos at the pool in summer, wears Spandex in track practice. He's cool, I like him, but I'm pretty sure he wants to suck cock." That word, "cock," hung in the silence for a moment. I'd noticed Mike, who couldn't? He a great body -- and a great bulge in those Speedos, I loved to stare at him (when I had sunglasses on) at the pool. "Well, if I had his body and was hung like him, I'd probably wear a Speedo, too," I said. Joe didn't disagree. The atmosphere in the room had changed. We were both horny as hell, no doubt about that. The beer, movie and sex talk gave me courage to do something I wouldn't have even thought of on any other night. "It's as hot as shit in here. I hate these fuckin' long pants we have to wear. Why can't we wear shorts to work?" I complained. "I'm taking them off. Hope you don't mind." Without waiting for an answer, I took off the bus-boy standard-issue black pants. I had Indiana University boxers underneath. Joe stared at me the whole time. "That's a good idea," Joe said, pulling down his white sous-chef pants. "Those are cool boxers." I stared at him as he pulled down his drawers. He was wearing powder blue briefs. They looked fantastic. I was the first time I'd seen Joe in anything tight and his bulge looked impressive. "Ha! You look like Carroll with those on!" I said. "Yeah, but without the big dick," Joe replied. "You're kidding, man, you look huge." I embarrassed Joe. He didn't say anything. The room was hot and uncomfortable Joe's cock was growing and so was mine. Sure it was uncomfortable, but it was pure sexual tension -- and I wasn't about to cool it off. "I wish I had that kind of size," I added. "Hey, man, don't sell yourself short, you don't look bad," Joe said. He was not embarrassed enough to stop this either. The beer, movie and discussion apparently had the same emboldening effect on Joe, and what he said next, I'll always remember. I couldn't believe it; it still gives me a hard-on today -- five years later: "Let me see it." "What?" I asked, shocked and stirred. "Let me see it." My cock was more than half-mast now. My heart was racing. "Let me see yours," I said back. "Can't you see it now? I'm about to bust through," Joe said pushing out his plevis. He lowered the front of his briefs and an erect, thick 8-incher flopped out. I trembled. "Wow." "Your turn, man," said Joe, not covering up. I pulled down the front of my shorts and my not-as-thick 6-inch cock sprung out. With one hand holding his briefs, Joe lowered his other hand to his cock and held it, stroked it. "You're fine, man," he said. "I like it." "Thanks," was all I could say. I was staring at Joe for a few seconds. He was now fully hard and pumping away. "Wow, man, you look great," I finally said. Joe didn't stop. He eyes seemed to glaze over as he pleasured himself. I wanted to do more. "Can I touch it?" I asked. Joe didn't answer. He just took a few step toward me. I didn't need any more encouragement. I moved to his side and put my hand on his tool. It was warm, hard and thicker than I thought a cock could be. I stroked it the way I like to stroke my own cock. Joe let his hands drop and moaned. "Let's go over to the couch," I said. On the way he pulled off his briefs and I pulled off my boxers. He laid back, Put his hands behind his head. His eyes were still glazed over. I knew what he wanted. Hell, I wanted the same thing. After a little more stroking I put my lips around his wonderful cock. And I sucked it like I had dreamed of sucking it -- slow, base to tip, my tongue moving back and forth. Joe moaned. "That's incredible," he said. With my other hand, I worked my own cock. Pure heaven. Joe arched his back, grabbed the back of my head and stiffened his whole body. His thrusts matched the rhythms of the hot spurts of come than showered my throat. Incredible. I though Joe might have been hyperventilating but his breathing finally slowed. He opened his eyes finally and looked down at me. "Holy shit, that was incredible," he panted. "How the hell did you do that?" I smiled. "Can I finish?" I asked. "Let me help," he said, with a slight smile. I straddled his thighs so I could feel his semi-hard, hot, wet cock under my balls. My cock was at full attention. Joe reached down and grabbed it, and begin stroking. I put my hands behind my head and watched this beautiful 17-year-old pump my cock. My swaying back and forth across Joe's cock had stirred some life back into his tool. I felt it growing underneath me as it stimulated my hole. I wanted more. I wanted him. "Fuck my ass, man," I said, grabbing his wet tool and raising my body a little. His cock roared to rock-hard status after I said it. I moved to the other couch, layed on my back and lifted my legs back. Joe followed. He put the head of his cock on my hole and pushed. After a few minutes of slow pushing, pain, and lots of saliva lube, his cock was deep inside. The burning pain turned into hot pleasure. He slowly moved his hips back and forth, moaning at the tightness of my hole. I felt his cock swell. I pumped furiously at my cock. My moans joined his. The heat, the beer, the fucking ... I exploded. I shot a huge load all over my chest. My convulsions did the trick on Joe's dick and he shook as I felt his hot liquid fill me. He collapsed on top of me. I wrapped my arms around him. This hot stud, sweating beautifully on top of me. Joe moaned and I purred. And there were five more weeks of summer.