Date: Sat, 17 Apr 2010 23:00:41 -0700
From: RD
Subject: More Than Friends - Part I

The events of this story are absolutely true, and took place between myself
and a buddy of mine when we were ages 14 and 15, respectively.  Not much of
a point in even changing his name, since it is so common (John).

I first met John when I joined a scout troop in town.  At 15, he was a year
older than I.  John and I were physically much different; he was tall, with
striking blonde hair that he parted in the middle and feathered, as many
did during the 80's.  I was average height, with brown wavy hair.  We were
just a couple skinny kids, enjoying life in the suburbs.

I had always been predominatley interested in girls, and had a horny streak
running through me pretty much 24/7.  John and I had been hanging out as
friends for about a year, and he also indicated only an interest in girls.
Looking back on the chain of events, I can see that he had likely been
thinking of me as more than just a friend for a while.

As summer approached one year, the troop was making plans for a week-long
hike in the high Sierras.  I still did not own my own tent, and knowing
this, John enthusiastically suggested we could share his small tent.  I
thought this would be fun, and quickly agreed.

Before I knew it, there we were, sharing a two-person tent in the high
country.  After a long day of hiking, a beautiful sunset and some campfire
activities, the troop got cleaned up and we retired to our tents to get
some rest.  John and I crawled into our tent, and climed into our sleeping
bags.

"Do you sleep in underwear, or do you go totally naked?" John asked after a
few minutes.  Somehow, I did not find this to be an odd question, and
answered matter-of-factly that I wore my underwear when I slept.

"I like to sleep totally naked," he responded, and I could see that he was
pulling off his briefs inside his sleeping bag.  "You should try it, too."

I figured, what the heck, and slipped my briefs down my legs and kicked
them of my feet.  The nylon fabric of the sleeping bag was slightly cool,
but very smooth and comfortable.

As was frequently the case, the subject of our whispered conversation
turned to girls and sex.  I don't think either of us had much experience
with either, but the thought of naked girls started to stir some reaction
in my cock.  I figured this must have been the case for John, too, when he
told me he was experiencing the same phenomenon.

"All this talk is giving me a hard-on," he said in a quick voice with a
slight laugh.

"Yeah, me too," I replied.

It started to get interesting with his next line of questioning.

"So, on a scale of one to ten, how hard are you right now?"

I thought this over, and told him I was at an eight or nine.

"Yeah, I guess I'm about there, too."  He paused, then asked, "When your at
an eight or nine, is it hard all the way out, or is it still a little
soft?"

It was with that question my mind began to race.  I had never discussed my
dick with anyone before, and I thought this was a little strange...but
extremely exciting!  I wondered to myself, "Is he coming on to me?"  I
shook off the thought, and answered.

"I dunno...I guess it's just about all the way hard."

If I was an eight before, I was quickly becoming a ten.

John whistfully said, "I guess everybody's is a little different.  I wonder
how different your's is than mine?"

I paused for what felt like an hour, but was probably only five seconds.
Then, I decided to go for broke.

"Would you like to see?" I asked.

"Sure!" he replied, "And I'll let you see mine."

I unzipped the side of my sleeping bag about a foot, hesitated a second,
then lifted the top portion of the bag, and shone my flashlight on my
five-inch, rock-hard cock.  John moved closer and peered into my bag, and
studied carefully.  I could barely feel his warm breath on my naked chest.

"Wow! That IS hard.  It's long, too."

After about ten seconds of close study, he returned the favor.  The zipper
of his bag moved down, and he lifted the top of his bag, lighting the way
with his flashlight.

I looked into the bag like I was discovering a new treasure.  It was then
that I'd realized I had wanted this moment to happen for quite some time.
I was a little surprised that John's dick was a full inch shorter than
mine, but what it lacked in length, it had in thickness!  Its head was
different than mine as well; his was more arrow-shaped, with the underside
of the head ending almost at the tip.  Mine was a bit more rounded.  I also
noticed he had wonderfully large testicles.

I didn't know what to say, but kept staring.  He eventually closed his bag,
and I can't quite recall the exact dialog at that point, but I know where
it led.

"I wonder if they feel the same?" John mused.  "Does yours give in a little
if you squeeze it, or is it absolutely hard?"

I could see that this would be his pattern.  He would "wonder" something,
and I would give the okay to take the next step.

"Do you want to find out?" I asked.

He chuckled ever so slightly, but quickly answered, "Sure, why not?"

I opened my bag as I had before, offering him ample room to reach in and
explore my young prick.  I felt a bit of cool air enter my sleeping bag,
then I felt his warm fingers wrap around the shaft of my cock.  He moved
his hand around a bit, as if testing fruit in the grocery store.  His hand
stayed in place for a while.

"Wow, you're excited!"  John exclaimed.  "You wanna check mine out?"

I was in heaven, with his soft, warm fingers fondling my dick. "Yes," I
softly managed to squeek out.  I'm not sure if it was in response to his
question, or in response to his caress.

John already had his bag unzipped, and I slipped my left hand down his body
until I met his throbbing cock.  It was soft and hard at the same time.  I
heard him let out a slight gasp.

Niether one of us wanted this to stop, and there was a bit of awkward
conversation about how it felt, and what each others' balls felt like.  I
found myself matching his actions; when he fondled my nuts, I fondled his.
When he played with the head, I did the same.  I noticed we were both
experiencing a drop or two of pre-cum, but neither of us mentioned it.  I
couldn't get enough.

His next question about floored me.

"I wonder what it's like to get a blow job?"

I was pretty sure I knew what this was, but I stayed quiet for a bit and
just listened.  At one point, he said something along the lines of, "Well,
there's no girls around here, so I guess we won't find out tonight..."

I took the bait, hook, line and sinker.

"We have each other.."

"Really?  You want to?"  John replied.

"Sure," I quickly answered.

"Okay, I'll go first," John said, as he began to lean toward the somewhat
slippery cock in his hand.

I let go of his cock, using my left hand to unzip my sleeping bag a bit
more.  There was no foreplay involved.  Before I knew it, his warm mouth
completely enveloped the head of my dick.  I don't know how I kept from
blowing my load right then, but I remember contracting my ass muscles to
force myself a little deeper into his mouth.  This was heaven!

I thought of my pre-cum mixing with his siliva, and for some reason I
immediately thought of us rubbing our slippery dicks against each other.  I
made a mental note, and enjoyed my first blow job a bit longer before
telling John it was his turn.

He laid his head back on his folded jacket, and I reversed positions with
him.  I took his thick member into my mouth, and moved my head back and
forth over the head.  I moved my tongue around the head of his penis,
feeling the stretched, smooth skin joining the chubby shaft.  I could taste
his moisture leaking slightly from the tip.  I remember thinking how fresh
he smelled, like he might have even brought cologne on this trip, specially
for this occasion.

After a couple minutes of mouth fucking his dick, I came up for air, and
laid out my idea.

"We could put them together and see what that feels like..."

"Hmmm.  Okay, I never thought of that," he responded.

We both peeled aside the tops of our sleeping bags and pushed our groins
toward one another, until the heads of our penises were touching, pressing
into each other.  It was a wonderful feeling, but not exactly what I had
invisioned.

"Not like that," I said, "get closer and we can put them together the long
way."

He caught the vision, and we moved in close together, so the bottoms of our
cocks were now pressed against each other.  I grabbed them both with my
right hand, and began jerking us off.  John began bucking his hips, and I
followed his motion.  I noticed our dicks were getting slippery, as the
heads bobbed unevenly against each other.

Our pre-cum was now mixing, as our breathing became faster and deeper.  I
heard John grunt gently and felt his cock surging in my grasp, right up
against the shaft of mine.  He was cumming!

I felt the warm semen covering my hand, which sent me into a flurry of
action with my hand.  I didn't let go, and kept pumping quickly, but not
harshly.  I felt the warmth rising from my balls, toward my dick.  Pure
electricity!

The head of my cock was now stretched as tight as it would go, and I'm sure
it was deep purple, though I couldn't see it.  Then, as I felt his dick
shoot the last few drops of cum from his head, I began shooting, too!  The
warm, white, slippery stuff drenched my hand, his stomach, my stomach and
the tent floor.  There was no defining who's was who's...It was mixed
together and felt the same.

I was greatful we had a roll of TP to clean up the mess when all was said
and done.  It had been a messy, eventful night, and I hoped for more to
cum.