Date: Thu, 1 Dec 2022 23:47:00 +0100
From: lowerdeguy@mail.com
Subject: Master-Jacker-3

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. None of the characters in the
story exist and the events that take place are purely imaginary.

WARNING: Do not read this story if you are in any way offended by acts of
a homosexual nature. Do not read this if you are under the legal age for
accessing adult sites or if such content is illegal or prohibited in any
way in the jurisdiction where you live. And always indulge in safe sex.

Master Jacker - Part 3

So, here I found myself 2 rounds into 6 of profound experiences few might
ever have with their friends.  Horniess and intoxication comingled with
close camaraderie and a moment of bravery on my part to create a stream
of my very best friends entering my bedroom, one by one, to stretch their
sexual boundaries because I had convinced them that I was some sort of
sexual guru.

To review, soccer jock Chad had learned a variety of new strokes and
surfer guy Brandon had experienced his first prostate probing, but the
night was still just beginning and would bring more new experiences for
both my friends and for me.

As I walked out back to the group following Brandon by several seconds, I
knew that 4 more friends waited in anticipation. Brandon was not shy in
his enthusiastic endorsement of the experience he had, and the sexual
excitement and tension was becoming ever more palpable in the space.

Chad and Brandon now reclined in pre-release relaxation, both wearing
unusually satisfied grins on their faces.  My other four friends wondered
who would be next and their eye contact guided my choice.  Three of them
made direct eye contact, and one sheepishly looked away from time to
time. That was Ben.

Ben was the bashful, Clark Kent type.  He had classic good looks, dark
hair, glasses, and a square jawline that all mixed with a dash of
intellectual nerdiness that was actually quite endearing.

Amongst our pack of buds, the rest of us exuded more confidence.  When
around any others, Ben was known to be part of our pack and nobody was to
mess with him.  We'd all known one another since we were little and we
knew what an awesome guy Ben was.

His parents were uber conservative and most of us were not their choices
as the friends they wanted for Ben, but in an act on some level of
defiance, Ben had never let their feelings dissuade him from being our
friend.  He was fiercely loyal to us, and that's likely a strong basis
for our fierce loyalty to him.

When I called out, "Ben, you're up," his face instantly turned red.
"Hell, he's been up," my friend Chase called out, which definitely
didn't help Ben's embarrassment.. "His shorts have been tented for
more than an hour."

Ben made his way into the room quickly and I shut the door behind us.
"Pay no attention to him, buddy," I said.

Hearing the door shut, Ben turned back to acknowledge my comment and
receive direction, his face radiating red with embarrassment and nerves.
It was immediately apparent that Chase's comment about his tenting
shorts was very true.  I had no idea at that moment, however, about the
reality of the pole for that tent.

Ben looked so uncomfortable.  My eyes were locked on the front of his
shorts and Ben, in awkwardness, looked away.  "What do I do?," he
asked, almost in pain.  Before I proceeded with Ben, I had to acknowledge
that his upbringing was the opposite of mine.  For every element of
openness and affirmation my parents had for sexuality, Ben's parents
avoided the topic.  His church was extremely conservative.  Pre-martiail
sex was a no no, homosexuality was cause for total damnation, and
masturbation was a fast path to depravity.  Despite this, when I came
out, Ben was the first to hug me and both sincerely and jokingly say, "I
love you, bud. . . just not in the gay way."

"Take off your shorts, lay down, and relax," I told him, motioning to
the bed.  As I said that, I looked at the bed and became aware that,
after two gushing loads had recently been experienced on it, there were
numerous wet spots and a wad of Brandon's seed that was still oozing
down the headboard.

I grabbed a tissue to wipe that load away and said, "Sorry. It's
getting kind of messy. I can change the sheets." But Ben quickly chimed
in, "Don't. I think I'll quickly just make it worse." And in a moment
of absolute bravery on his part, he quickly thrust his shorts down to
reveal boxer briefs that had a massive wet spot on the front.  And not
only was there a wet spot, there was an undeniable outline of a massive
penis.  Our sheepish, low key, quiet, humble, Ben was both a major leaker
and majorly hung.

I was caught off guard for just a moment.  Growing up there had been
moments and glimpses and passing views of the goods of all of my friends,
and, on some level, I knew that Ben wasn't small, but it had been while
since I had a view and he had filled out nicely.  The realities of his
size were snapping into clear focus in front of me, and it was something
to behold.

Trying to catch my balance, I quickly said, "It's all good, bro.
Tonight's about being natural and real. And it's real that lots of guys
leak and, well, cum happens when you're doing things right."  I
laughed.

A tiny release of tension washed over Ben and he chuckled slightly, his
eyes still down. "I guess so," he said, looking quickly up for
affirmation.  Of all of us, Ben would most be the one riddled with shame
about beating off.

"Ben, I've known you since we were kids.  We're like brothers. Relax
and just enjoy this. It's just sex."  Ben glanced up, like I'd said
some dirty word.  Of course, in his house, sex was a dirty word. "I
guess so," he responded with another pleadingly uncomfortable look up.

Getting to where we needed to go was going to take a while with Ben.
With any of my other friends, my next request would be to simply tell
them to lose the underwear, but Ben needed that remaining shred of
modesty for yet a while, so I simply said, "Lie down."

Ben complied and I sat on the edge of the bed.  The tension in his body
was completely visible, as visible and the wet spot and outline of his
semi-flacid manhood. My hand barely touched his arm and he jumped.

"Ben, look dude. Do you trust me?"  I asked.  "Absolutely," he
replied. "Well, we're not going to do anything you don't want. And
whatever we do or don't do remains only between us. None of those clowns
out there will know anything.  In fact, let's just start with a little
massage. Nothing more and then only if and when you're ready. OK?"

Ben looked up at me and said, "Ok, I trust you."  And I chimed in,
"Besides, you're a fucking ball of nerves right now so we gotta do
something about that."

He laughed, and smiled, and an even larger wave of relief  washed over
him. "I think I'd like a massage," he remarked.

"Well, ok, let's get you relaxed. Close your eyes and just chill." And
with that, I began the first massage I'd ever given anyone and Ben began
to experience the  first moments where he'd ever truly been touched by
anyone in a prolonged and intimate manner.

I'll admit I'd watched multiple massage-related porn videos.  The scene
fascinated me.  It can be presented as so closely tied to tantra that
there was an appeal.  I'd been raised to enjoy my own body and that,
naturally, wasn't far removed in helping others enjoy their bodies.
Massage could be healing and, in these moments, I was beginning the
healing Ben needed from his restricted upbringing.

I played out, with and for Ben, the massage scene elements that I most
appreciated in videos. It was a true massage with no rush to anything
more, yet the anticipation of "what if" lingered in the air.  The
strokes were long, real, deep, and focused on the body as a whole, yet
subtle crosses of and contact with more intimate areas hinted that the
massage could go beyond being just a massage.

The entire time, Ben's cock remained at least at semi-attention, with
surges in response to my more intimate contact. Finally, I knew I needed
to push Ben more. "Hey, bud. The goal is for you to relax and parts of
you are kind of straining against your boxers.  Let's just slide them
off for comfort so you can relax more. It's all cool."

Ben kept his eyes closed, as if making eye contact might dissuade him
from crossing this next line, but he mumbled "Ok."  As I tugged at the
waistband, he lifted his hips, and off the last stitches of clothing
went.  With a thud, his glorious manhood was free and exposed.  The
leaking had continued and a glorious string of pre-cum ran from his head
to his midsection. I have to admit, I salivated.

The massage continued for a while, but I stepped up the passing touches
to key parts, and Ben responded like for like to the point that his
amazing manhood was soon fully at attention, throbbing and veiny.  Our
shy buddy could easily do porn. People would pay good money for the view
I had right in front of me.

At this point, we were nearing an hour that we had been at this and I
also knew that, with Ben, each step required a push from me. "Ben,
buddy, there's still a lot of stress in one area and I'm sure you know
which one. I'd really like to take care of that for you. Would that be
OK?"

It was if the world paused.  Things went still. Had I pushed too much?
Was Ben going to retract? Whether is was his attempt to push back on his
suffocating upbringing, or his peaking horniness, or some combination of
both of those, Ben mustered all his will and nodded.

For this moment with this guy, it could not be about nor did it require
some tight, fast stroke. This was about tenderness, a massage that
continued to a guy's more intimate parts.  This was a powerful moment of
connection. This wasn't just a friend helping out a friend, this was a
person, for the first time, crossing a line of intimacy that he had
firmly held to, one that had been drawn fast and firm in the sand for him
by so many. This was Ben knowingly allowing himself to be a sexual being
for the first time.

Respecting Ben's openness, acknowledging that he was crossing a line he
was unsure of, expressing care for my friend, and wanting to make it a
moment of tenderness for him, my strokes of his cock were tender, long,
and slow.  I tried to read him as best as I could and I know I brought
him to the edge and backed off at least twice, but then I finally began
to stroke him and leaned over close next to him so that he could feel my
breath and me his. This moment was about connection.

As I continued, I sensed that he was close, and in a moment of what must
have been extraordinary bravery, Ben opened his eyes and stared point
blank into mine.  For Ben, this was the first, long awaited moment of
sexual connection with someone else.

Our eyes were locked as I my hand continued the slow steady stimulation
and then Ben quietly whispered, "please."  I nodded and continued with
3 more slow, firmer strokes, and then finally ran the head of his manhood
through my first as Ben's eyes and face transformed into a moment of
vitality, sexuality, tenderness, and profound appreciation.  Our gazes
were locked on one another and I was witnessing a profound moment for my
friend.

Unlike our friends before, there was no cussing or yelling out. There
were only soft whimpers of passion, sweet agony, and release as Ben
reached up and drew me close in an expression of thanks and his entire
body convulsed repeatedly multiple times.

After about 30-45 seconds of initial shots that then turned into slow
pulsing after shocks, things subsided.  Quick deep breaths changed to
slower ones.  The anticipatory edge of agony and explosion of release
gave way to afterglow, with our sweat and his load co-mingled.

I slowly lifted myself up and looked at Ben.  His eyes were saying so
much.  I read "Thank you" and "That was amazing" and "I can't
believe what that was like" and so much more.  And a tear of gratitude
rolled down from one eye as Ben mouthed "thank you," prompting me to
lean down and give him a quick simple kiss and utter, "you're
welcome."

Moments later it was time for us to emerge from this space back to the
presence of others. It was only a few steps from one room to another, but
even in the few strides he took and in his movement, I was already seeing
a new, more confident, more comfortable Ben. A Clark Kent of sexual shame
was taking his first steps to becoming a Superman of confidence.

As another shot to his confidence and knowing that each guy had to deeply
wonder what happened behind the closed door with the others, I made a
quick remark to Ben. "Dude, you're a fucking stud."  The new,
confident Ben smiled brightly, and he didn't blush as all.

Thanks for reading, guys. I'd love to hear from you if you like the
series. Also, there are several more installments coming. Ideas for those
are welcomed.  lowerdeguy@mail.com

Also, maintaining this site isn't free, so please support the folks at
Nifty and consider a donation https://donate.nifty.org