Date: Thu, 31 Mar 2005 11:52:26 +0100
From: Terence Wade
Subject: Kevin And Me

The following is a mixture of fact and fantasy from my teenage years. The
names and places have been changed.


The only guy I had ever had a crush on was my friend Kevin. I had always
had girlfriends and, even though I had masturbated with a couple of guys
before, I knew I wasn't gay. But there was something really special about
Kevin. Years later, I'd find out that all the guys in our class that turned
out to be gay had major crushes on him too.

He was definitely the friendliest guy in our class even though he was
slightly shy. He always had a smile on his face and wasn't cruel to anyone.
Kevin's voice was warm and rich, unusually deep for a teenage boy, but
naturally masculine. His face was much more boyish. He had an absolutely
winning smile, sparkling green eyes and very clear, pale skin. He wore his
hair like I did -- parted on the side, long enough to flop down over his
forehead -- but whereas mine was brown and wavy, his was red, almost
strawberry blond, and perfectly straight. How I envied him!

Naturally shy about his body, Kevin's red hair caused his classmates to
speculate about the color of his pubic hair. None of us had ever seen
it. On a school canoe trip in the Minnesota wilderness, he covered himself
with a towel while changing into his trunks while 15 other guys, myself
included, saw each other's dicks without embarrassment. I don't think Kevin
changed his clothes once that week when we slept four to a tent. Although
he was on the swim team, he swam in board shorts, refusing Speedos, and hid
behind his locker when changing.

It was I who finally uncovered the mystery of Kevin Marsden's pubes, on a
rafting trip in Virginia when we were 15. Our campground had open showers,
and one day while I was already showering, Kevin came up to the shower head
next to mine. My heart leapt and I had to try to calm myself before I
spoke.

"Hi Kevin," I said.

"Hello," he responded nonchalantly.

Knowing he was shy, I didn't want to be seen to be checking him out
openly. Whereas some of the other guys would stand around naked chatting
openly, I knew I had to be careful not to make Kevin feel awkward -- and
not to give myself an erection.

I can't remember whether we talked any more during that shower. I just
remember trying to see as much as I could in my peripheral vision. Kevin
was more filled out than I was which suited his nicely rounded bottom and
made his frame look more masculine than my skinny body. His nipples were
pink and slightly puffy, and he had a smattering of freckles on his
chest. Like me, his body was almost totally hairless, except for under his
arms, his legs (whose hairs were so blond as to be almost undetectable), a
faint trail leading down from his belly button, and of course the pubes.

It turns out they were red after all, only slightly darker than the hairs
on his head. This must be the source of his shyness, I thought. The rest of
the guys in our class ran the gamut from light brown to black, like mine.
Some of them had thought red pubes an impossibility. I could see now why
Kevin wanted to keep them hidden. Except that they were gorgeous: a full,
red pubic bush on a 15-year-old with a boyish face but a man's voice and
body.

I was so mesmerized by them that I barely noticed his cock. I only remember
that it looked remarkably similar to mine. Neither too big nor too small
when soft, circumcised with a large, round head like a bell, and plump,
full balls. I wonder whether he was checking me out then too.

The next time I saw Kevin naked was over a year later, when we'd both just
turned 17. By this time we both had girlfriends, who happened to be best
friends with each other, so Kevin and I saw more of each other, going on
"double dates" and that sort of thing.

One cold winter night, our girlfriends, Kevin and I went to the movies,
then out for a pizza and finally back to Kevin's house to watch Saturday
Night Live. Of course, none of us saw the show that night; we were too busy
making out on the plush, comfortable couch. Kevin's parents were downstairs
having a drink, but they were not the type to bother us, unlike, say, my
parents.

I don't know about either of the girls, but I was kind of turned on by
having the other couple there, and based on the glances Kevin and I shared
that evening, I'd say he was, too.

The girls had to leave just before midnight to make their curfew and, after
a long kiss, we saw them out the door. Being teenage boys, we were hungry
despite having had pizza two hours earlier, and we went into the kitchen to
get some Doritos, Kevin's parents having gone to bed earlier.

I had a massive erection from all that making out, and I wondered whether
it was visible through my jeans. Kevin was wearing a long T-shirt, but when
he stretched, I could see the outline of a hard on in his jeans, too. My
dick twitched.

"My balls hurt," I blurted out.

Kevin giggled sheepishly and mumbled, "Mine too."

We shared a smile. I grabbed the Doritos off the kitchen table and went to
the fridge to get a two-liter bottle of Pepsi. Kevin had opened one of the
cupboards and pulled out a bottle of gin that belonged to his mom.

"Wanna try some of this?" he asked with a mischievous grin spreading over
his handsome face. "It tastes like pine needles, but it's not bad if you
mix it with pop."

"Sure!" I grinned.

We settled ourselves in Kevin's small bedroom a couple of minutes later. He
put on a Beatles CD and we flopped on his bed, surrounded by Kevin's
guitars and posters of Clapton, Hendrix and Phish.

Kevin poured each of us a gin and Pepsi, and I took a small sip, wincing
slightly at the harshness of the alcohol. In a couple of minutes, I was
feeling light-headed and my erection had softened into a semi. I looked
over at Kevin. He was leaning back against the wall, his eyes closed and
his head nodding to the beat of "I'm Only Sleeping." His T-shirt had ridden
up over his tummy and I could clearly see his belly button and the trail of
pale red hairs leading down from it, noticeably thicker than it had been a
year earlier.

I reached over for my backpack and pulled out a dog-eared copy of Penthouse
magazine I'd acquired from another friend. "Kevin!" I called out to
him. Seeing the magazine, his green eyes brightened and he revealed the
same smile I'd seen in the kitchen. In the days before the Internet, we
were reliant on friends with older brothers to get us pornography.

We spread the magazine out over the pillow and lay on our bellies, flipping
through the pages, giggling and comparing the models' tits and pubic bushes
to our own girlfriends' and sipping from our drinks.

After looking at the pictures, we sat up and leaned back against the wall,
taking turns to read each other the stories. I was slightly dizzy from the
booze, and I could tell Kevin was, as he slurred his words slightly. I also
found the stories more arousing than the images, and my erection returned.

"How far have you gone with Nicole?" I asked Kevin. He stopped reading and
put the magazine down.

"We haven't had sex yet," he admitted, but went on to say they'd done
nearly everything else. I asked for details, my girlfriend and I being
considerably less experienced. As he went on to describe hand jobs and blow
jobs, albeit not in the usual crude language of teenagers, my dick strained
at the crotch of my jeans. A few times I had to reach down to adjust it,
deliberately revealing the top of my pubes. I noticed Kevin looking with
interest, then quickly glancing away in embarrassment, but I caught him
adjusting his once, too.

"I'm getting tired. Let's get ready for bed," I suggested.  Kevin's face
immediately turned red, a deeper hue than his hair. He knew that if he
stripped down to his boxers, his erection would be visible. But he agreed,
and as we both pulled off our shirts, I saw that his nipples were darker
and harder than they'd been in the shower. I lay down on my sleeping
blanket and pulled off my jeans, revealing the outline of my erection
straining at my "tighty-whities," the head clearly visible.

I could see Kevin inadvertently staring at it, relief washing over his
face. "Sorry," I said. "I can never get rid of a boner after a big make-out
session." Kevin giggled lightly and pulled down his jeans. He was wearing
plaid Gap boxers and, as he turned to put his jeans and T-shirt down, his
dick popped out of the fly.

I couldn't help it. My jaw dropped and I stared, openly. Kevin's dick
looked slightly longer than mine, about seven inches. The shaft was as pale
as the rest of him, but the large, round head was almost a deep purple. The
slit was wide open, a drop of fluid hanging from it.

Time seemed to stand still. Kevin saw me staring and muttered, "Oops," but
didn't immediately move to cover up. The booze having gone to my head, I
pulled down my briefs, without thinking, and my hard cock popped out,
slapping back against my tight abdomen. I pulled the waistband down below
my balls, revealing my thick black pubes.

Kevin's mouth hung open slightly and his eyes fixed on my pulsating cock. I
could see in his face that he was trying to decide what to do. Finally, he
pulled his boxers down and kicked them off. I stared at the holy grail: his
fiery red pubes.

As I grabbed my cock and started to stroke it slowly, up and down, Kevin
lay beside me and did the same.

I'd masturbated with friends before, but I'd never felt as turned on as I
did right now. My dick was as hard as it's ever been, the head looking
almost twice as big as normal. I couldn't believe it was real: I was
watching Kevin Marsden jack off.

Eventually, our stroking got faster and faster, our breathing harder and
harder. We didn't touch each other, not that night, but we were stroking in
rhythm with each other, our shoulders and legs up against each other, our
balls bouncing to the same beat.

The music and room had faded. All I could see was Kevin's perfect cock and
glorious red pubes, all I could hear was his labored breathing as it became
a low moan, like I'd heard him do in his sleep in the tent.

As the moan became louder, I glanced up to see his face had turned the same
color as the head of his dick, his moaning mouth agape, but his eyes
trained on me. We briefly made eye contact, then he shut his eyes and
leaned his head back. His dick spasmed wildly as floods of white come
erupted from the thick slit, splashing across his belly and chest.

He smiled broadly and sat up slightly as my dick repeated his
performance. I came so forcefully that not only was my chest covered, I had
a splash of semen on my cheek.

Kevin and I made looked at each other and grinned. "I needed that," he
said, and went to get us a towel.

We both slept naked that night and in the morning, he made no attempt to
cover himself while dressing. The shy Kevin Marsden was a thing of the
past.