Date: Thu, 8 Oct 2009 19:09:28 -0500
From: Morris Henderson <bigmoh@post.com>
Subject: Summer_of_Joy

It was late June, the summer after my freshman year in High
School.  I was bored.  During the school year, I had plenty to keep
me busy with homework and, because both my parents worked, a
few chores around the house like cleaning, doing the laundry, and
preparing supper.  It was no fun doing the housework but it
earned me a generous allowance.

I had lots of acquaintances but none of them I wanted to hang out
with.  My only close friend was Brad who lived down the block.
We had known each other for years and, in spite of his being two
years older than I was, we spent a lot of time together and enjoyed
each other's company.  However, this summer was different.  He
was 16 and was able to get a summer job with a landscaping
company in order to pay for his car.  With him working from
dawn to dusk all week, I only got to see him on the weekends.
Weekdays for me were miserable.  My two older sisters were
married and moved out, leaving me alone in an empty house.

Brad's phone call on Thursday night asking if I'd like to go
camping with him over the weekend was more than welcome and
I eagerly accepted.  I knew my parents would grant permission.
They had frequently obsessed to me about my lack of friends.
They knew Brad to be "a good Christian boy" and, in their
estimation, a good influence on me.  That I had no circle of
friends was my choice.  Yes, I was a real loner.  Except for Brad
who I felt was like the big brother I never had.

I got all of my stuff together on Friday.  Brad said I would need
only a change of clothes and a few items of canned or dry food
because he had a tent and sleeping bags. I impatiently waited for
Saturday when Brad would pick me up in his five-year-old Ford
for the drive to ... where?  In my enthusiasm over the invitation, I
neglected to ask where we would be camping out.  That upset my
parents who wanted to know where I would be.

Brad rang the doorbell promptly at nine Saturday morning.  My
dad answered the door and invited him in.  Immediately after
greeting him, he asked where we would be camping.  He told
them it was a State Park about 50 miles west of town.  Satisfied,
my parents bid us goodbye with the obligatory warning to be
careful.

Once in the car and on the way, Brad explained that another of his
friends, Tom, who was 15, would be joining us.  I didn't know
Tom that well although he sometimes joined Brad and me for
movies, hikes, and other activities.  He was quite shy and bookish
and a bit of a loner much like me but it was Brad's party and he
could invite whomever he liked.  I hoped that the three of us
would get along for two days.

During the hour-long drive out of town and through a rural area,
we chatted about the adventure we were about to have.  Both Tom
and I wanted to know what kind of place we would be camping in
but all he would say was, "You'll like it, I'm sure."  The mystery
prompted us to speculate -- often with jokes and wise-cracks --
about where he was taking us.

Brad turned off the highway onto a dirt road that wound its way
through a thick pine forest.  It was not the State Park Brad had
mentioned to my parents.  I challenged him on that but he still
refused to tell us anything about the spot we were going to set up
camp.

"He's kidnapping us for ransom!" Tom exclaimed in mock
horror.

"No way," Brad replied.  "Nobody would pay more than a few
dollars for either of you."

Finally, Brad pulled into a grassy area at the side of the dirt road.
"Grab your stuff," he instructed.  "The camp site is about a half
mile hike from here."

"Great place to bury our bodies," Tom said to me.  "Nobody will
ever find us."

"Wrong again," Brad shot back.  "I'll leave you on the ground for
the animals to eat."

A half-mile is not a great distance but we were tired from lugging
our stuff when we walked out of the forest to see a beautiful lake
shimmering in the late-morning sun.  Low, rolling hills, blanketed
with thick pine trees, surrounded three sides of the lake.  A small
grassy area stretched out between us and the shore.  It was
gorgeous!

After setting up the tent, we were very hot and sweaty so I
suggested a swim.  Tom complained that he hadn't brought swim
trunks.  Ignoring his objection, I pulled off my shoes, socks, shirt,
and shorts and jumped into the lake with just my underwear on.  It
didn't take long for Brad to follow my lead.  He immediately shed
all his clothes except his boxers.  Tom seemed reluctant but
stripped, probably because Brad and I had and he didn't want to
be seen as a sissy.

It was then, for the first time, I noticed Brad seemed to be quite
well hung.  His wet underwear revealed that his dick was
something to be proud of.  I had noticed, over recent years, that
there was a bulge in his crotch but my interest had been only
wondering how much his penis had grown since we were little
boys and whether my own penis would continue to grow like his
seemed to have.  I had never seriously regarded him as a potential
jerk-off buddy.  For that matter, I had given very little thought to
having anyone to jerk off with.  Occasionally, especially in the
last few months, I wished that I could but there was no one in
particular that seemed to be a likely or desirable candidate.  It
wasn't that long ago that I discovered, quite accidentally, the
pleasures of orgasm and I had been content with solitary although
frequent masturbation.

As we frolicked in the water, I found myself stealing glances at
the others' bodies and, more particularly, at what they had
between their legs.

Brad's wet boxers clung to a bulging outline of his dick that, at
times, quite clearly defined its size and shape.  The thin material
also revealed a shadowy hint of ample pubic hair that was
intriguing, to say the least.  The sight gave rise, for the first time,
to thoughts of Brad masturbating his hard dick but those thoughts
were quickly dismissed because he was, as my parents repeatedly
said, "a good Christian boy."  I knew better than to get caught
starring; that sort of behavior would bring taunts of "queer" or
worse.  Still, I took advantage of several opportunities for a
momentary look at his crotch.

The need to see more, however, gradually changed from simple
curiosity to a distraction.  It then became an obsession.  I wanted
to see his cock in more than a revealing outline in his wet boxers.
But how could I see his manhood?  Somehow, I had to get him to
take his underwear off.  Then, I had an idea.  We were all
standing in chest-deep water at the time.  I pulled off my own
underwear, balled it up and threw it onto the shore, telling the
guys that I figured I would let my underwear dry so I could wear
it later.  As further encouragement, I said, "Hey, skinny dipping
feels great!  Have you guys done this before?  You should try it!"

My strategy worked.  In a flash, I saw Brad's boxers land on the
riverbank next to mine.  Tom hesitated for a while but eventually
followed suit.  I suppose it was only succumbing again to the
implied peer pressure that is so powerful among teens.
Unfortunately, we were all chest-deep in the water and I couldn't
get a good look at either of their cocks.  And I really wanted to
see if Brad's was as good as it looked through his wet underwear.
As we splashed around, however, I caught glimpses of Brad's and
Tom's soft dicks.  Tom's was about the same as mine (about three
inches when soft).  But Brad's!  When he stood up in knee-high
water I got a good look and could tell it hung down more than
five inches.  For 16 he had the biggest, fattest dick I had ever
seen.  Nothing I had seen in the locker room at school or the gym
compared.  If it was that big when soft, I wondered, what might it
look like hard and how long might it get?  I wanted nothing more
at that moment than to see it hard before the camping trip was
over.  If I played my cards right, I might get the chance.

After some more swimming and horseplay, Brad got out of the
water and ran to hang up our underwear on a tree branch to dry.
As he returned, I stared at his crotch with his large, soft dick
bobbing as he walked and his balls swinging freely below.  It
convinced me that I had to see it hard before the trip was over.  I
hoped Brad hadn't noticed me staring at him.  What he would
think?

Brad returned to the lake, waded out a short distance, and then
suddenly dropped out of sight.  It seemed to be a long time before
he surfaced and I began to worry about him.  He was an excellent
swimmer but where was he?  Then I saw him swim, still under
water, toward me.  As he passed me, I felt him grab one of my ass
cheeks and squeeze it.  I yelped with surprise.  Tom didn't know
what had happened and asked if I was all right.  Before I could
answer, Brad surfaced, laughing uproariously.  He was laughing
so hard it gave me time to duck under the water and swim toward
him.  I grasped his muscular ass cheek and squeezed.

And then the fun began!  Several minutes of ass grabbing ensued
while trying to avoid each other and hurling friendly insults when
an attempt was unsuccessful.  Even Tom, who had been shy up to
that point, eventually joined in -- more to conform, I thought, than
to participate in the game.  As far as I could tell, however, there
wasn't anything sexual about our horsing around; it was just a
game in which Brad, being slightly larger and stronger, scored the
most points by far.

At one point, Brad charged at me underwater.  I didn't have time
to get away from his attack so I swiveled so that my ass, his
target, was facing away from him.  I planned to grab his ass as he
passed by.  Brad, however, changed tactics and in so doing
changed the rules of the game.  Instead of grabbing my ass, he
grabbed my cock and yanked it!  It flabbergasted me.  Brad
surfaced, laughed, and exclaimed, "Gotcha!"

My first thought was to get him back ... in the same way he got
me.  I was motivated as much by the exciting prospect of actually
getting my hand on his impressive dick as by getting revenge.

In spite of several attempts, I was not quick enough or agile
enough to achieve my objective.

All that changed when Tom surprised me.  He slipped behind
Brad, grabbed him in a full nelson, and yelled to me, "Get him,
Brian!"  I was even more surprised when Brad, who I was sure
could have broken the hold, just stood there as if daring me to do
anything.  We were in waist-deep water.  I waded over to him
with a wicked expression.  I would even the score by giving his
cock several tugs and perhaps squeezing his balls.

He could have easily raised his feet and pushed me away but he
just stood there.  My gawd, I thought.  Why isn't he escaping?
Did he WANT me to grab his cock?

Our eyes locked onto each other's as I continued to wonder
whether Brad had quit the playful game and wanted something
more significant ... something sexual ... something forbidden.  He
had started the ass grabbing game.  He escalated it from grabbing
ass to grabbing cock.  Moreover, he didn't just grab and retreat;
he seemed to hold on to my cock for as long as he could before I
broke free.  And now he was, in effect, offering his cock to me
with no hesitation or resistance.

In all the years we had known each other, I never suspected that
he might be gay.  I was sure that he didn't suspect my secret: that
I had far more fascination with boys than girls.  Even during our
brief face-off while Tom held him and Brad didn't break free, I
couldn't be sure that he wanted what I wanted.

I grinned.  He grinned back.  That was the moment I knew.  I
knew that Brad had the same needs as I did.  I reached down
under the water.  Rather than aggressively grabbing and yanking
his cock, I began gently fondling it.  Brad continued to smile and
let me have my way with him.  Just as I felt his cock begin to
swell, Tom said, "Hey!  Are you going to get him or not?"

Without breaking eye contact with Brad, I replied, more to Brad
than to Tom, "I just did.  And it was the first of many."

Brad smiled, confirming conclusively that he enjoyed what I did
and would welcome more of the same.

We splashed and fooled around in the water for another half hour.
I joined in but I continued to wonder about Brad's unexpectedly
docile behavior when I fondled his dick.  And there was his smile
as I did it.  Could it really mean...?

Very tired, we climbed back onto the shore, retrieved our clothes
(except for the still-wet underwear), and dressed.  We had lunch
of sandwiches and Pepsi and then decided to take a hike through
the forest.  As we explored the idyllic surroundings, Brad and I
would frequently exchange glances.  Although we had been
friends for a long time, there seemed to be a something new ...
something special behind each of our smiles to each other.

We returned to the campsite around four, hot and sweaty.  There
was unanimous agreement that another dip in the lake was what
we needed.  This time, there was no horsing around; we simply
soaked in the refreshing water.  Even the conversation was muted.
It was a time for relaxation.  And, for me, reflection.  My
thoughts focused exclusively on Brad (and, I hoped, his on me).

Tom suggested we get dressed and have supper.  Brad then said,
"How about you gather some firewood.  I'll cook supper.  Brian
can wash up the plates.  Is that okay with you guys?"

Tom and I agreed.  Tom left to get dressed and gather firewood.
Brian smiled at me.  I smiled back.  He started floating on his
back, leaving his torso and legs angled down into the calm water.
I regretted that what interested me most was submerged and I had
only a blurred image of his private parts.

"This feels wonderful," he said.  "Why don't you try it?"

I did.  And Brad lost no time in wading over to me.  "Let me help
you relax," he said.  He placed his hand in the small of my back,
and lifted me so that my chest, stomach, and upper legs were
above the surface of the water.  My cock was fully exposed.
Significantly, he didn't hide his eyeing of my cock and balls.
Soon, I felt his hand slipping down to my ass and a finger
exploring my crack.  I felt my cock swelling.  When he found my
pucker and sensuously rubbed his finger back and forth across it,
my mind was a jumble.  Brad, my best and only close friend, and
the boy who my parents regarded as "a good Christian boy" was
doing something undeniably sexual to me.  Not that I cared, mind
you.  I welcomed the attention and felt very aroused and happy.

We didn't speak.  Words were unnecessary.  I closed my eyes and
gave a sigh to let him know I liked what he was doing and to
encourage him to continue.

He accepted my invitation.  With his free hand, he began to
fondle my hard-on, which began to twitch.  The pleasurable
sensations radiated from my cock throughout my body.  I had
never dreamed of such bliss.  After a few moments of pure
ecstasy, I opened my eyes, looked down at Brad and smiled my
appreciation.  He returned the smile.  That exchange was the final,
irrefutable affirmation of having morphed from being good
friends to being bound to each other because of our mutual
interests.

My cock was oozing precum and forming a string down to the
upper edge of my still-sparse pubic hair where it formed a puddle.
Brad began stroking my cock -- slowly at first and causing my
foreskin to slide up and down over my increasingly sensitive cock
head.  Quite willingly and very gratefully, I let him masturbate
me, anticipating a thoroughly satisfying orgasm.

He gradually increased the pace.  It was no longer in doubt that he
was going to take me all the way to orgasm.  Just as I began to
feel the first signs of impending climax, my reverie was
interrupted by Tom's calling from the shore, "Firewood is ready,
guys!"

Brad immediately stopped, removed his hands from my body, and
exclaimed, "Damn!"

I struggled to gain my footing, stood next to Brad, and said,
"Double damn.  I was so close."

"I'm sorry, Brian," he said sincerely.  "I thought we would have
more time.  But we'll resume later.  Don't go right to sleep
tonight.  We'll sneak off into the forest when Tom is asleep.  I'll
finish what I started then."  He took my hand and placed it,
underwater, on his very hard, very rigid dick.  "And you can play
with this, too" he grinned.

Brad fixed a meal of smoked sausages, hash brown potatoes, and
raw carrots.  Tom raved about how good it was.  I enjoyed it but
not as much as I could have for two reasons.  First, I was
preoccupied with the promise Brad had made about sneaking off
when Tom was asleep.  The second reason distracted me more.
Brad would, first subtly but increasingly blatantly, stare at me
while he put a sausage or a carrot in his mouth and suggestively
suck on it.  Before the meal was finished, I had a raging hard-on.
When he brought out the bananas from his backpack, I knew what
he would be doing so I mimicked his behavior, which made him
smile.

Tom, in the meantime, was playing it cool and aloof.  But he had
evidently noticed because he said, "You guys are sick!"

"What do you mean?" we both answered with feigned innocence.

"The way you were sucking on the sausages, carrots, and banana.
You think I'm stupid?  I know what you were doing," he
declared.

"Just savoring the meal," Brad shot back.  "Remember what
Freud said.  Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.  Who's sick?
Somebody enjoying a meal or somebody who sees it as symbolic
sex?"

"Okay, okay," Tom said.  "I'm sorry."

Brad and I were more careful from then on.  Neither of us wanted
to reveal our secret.

I washed the dishes in the lake and we sat around the campfire
talking about everything and nothing until the fire was just
embers and it started to get chilly.  Brad doused the remaining
embers with a pan of water from the lake and we moved into the
tent.  Three sleeping bags in a two-person tent presented a
problem but we finally settled in with Brad in the middle and very
little space between us.

We lay there wordlessly waiting for Tom to fall asleep.  I was so
impatient, it seemed to take forever.  I was tired but I was wide-
awake and alert, waiting for my adventure into the woods with
Brad.  I was getting hornier by the minute.  The only sound was
the rhythmic chirping of crickets outside the tent ... until I heard
another sound.  It took a while for me to recognize it.  It was the
almost imperceptible sound of a zipper.  Shortly after that, I heard
it again and wondered what was going on.  Then I felt a slight
draft on my left side immediately followed by Brad's hand
slipping into my sleeping bag and reaching for my dick, which
was half-hard but quickly rose to attention as Brad began to
fondle it.  Joining in the clandestine activity, I reached into Brad's
sleeping bag.  It took a bit of maneuvering but I finally found his
cock that I was pleased to discover was as hard as my own.

We quietly fondled each other for the next several minutes -- no
stroking that would cause orgasm, just gentle holding and
exploring.  Each of us was lost in the pleasure of the stimulation
and the anticipation of what was to come.

Finally, Brad withdrew his hand and rolled over, purposely
bumping against Tom who didn't move but continued breathing
slowly.  Very carefully, Brad and I rose, slipped on our trousers
and shoes, and crawled out of the tent.  We walked quietly for
about 20 yards with only the dim moonlight to guide our steps.
Brad had more foresight than I did.  He switched on a battery
camp light to illuminate our way.  He had also thought to bring
along a blanket.  About 20 yards further into the forest, he
whispered, "I think this will be safe."  He spread the blanket on
the ground, lay down on it, and whispered, "Are you ready for
some fun?"

I whispered back, "I've been ready since you suggested it."  I lay
down beside him.

"Good," he grinned.  He wasted no time and began immediately
to unbutton the waistband of my trousers and zip down my fly.
"Now I can finish what I started," he said.  He pulled my pants
down just far enough to gain access to my waiting cock but no
further.  "It's chilly, Brian. As much as I want to, I'm not going to
strip you naked."

My cock had begun to engorge when Brad pulled down my
trousers.  When he started to fondle it, it went into overdrive and
was fully erect in no time.  Before he started to stroke me, I said,
"Can I play with yours, too?"

He chuckled and changed positions so that his pelvis was at my
eye level and mine with his.  He pulled down his pants to reveal
his magnificent, half-hard cock that was soon brought to full
firmness as I deliriously fondled it while enjoying the sensations
he created in my own.  We stroked each other, each of us lost in
waves of pure pleasure, for several minutes.  Then I felt
something warm and wet encircle my cock.  I looked down.  He
was sucking it!  And flicking his tongue up and down the shaft
and teasing my sensitive cock head.  The sensations were several
times more intense than when he was jerking me with his hand.  I
wanted to give him the same pleasure but the thought of having a
penis in my mouth held me back.  I was not so innocent that I
didn't know about blowjobs and often wished someone would
give me one.  But the prospect of sucking another guy's dick
turned me off.  But this was Brad.  My best and only good friend.
The one who I had liked for years.  He was willing to suck my
dick.  It was extraordinarily arousing and pleasant.  Shouldn't I do
the same for him?

Tentatively, I took just the tip of his cock into my mouth.  It was
not at all gross.  It was tremendously arousing.  I began to match
his movements and it wasn't long before his dick was slick with
my saliva as I took more and more of it into my mouth.

Just as I got fully into the enjoyment of sucking his cock, I felt the
unmistakable sensations of emerging orgasm.  "Oh my Gawd!" I
thought.  I don't want to squirt into his mouth!  I pulled off his
dick and exclaimed, "Let go, Brad!  I've got to cum!  NOW!"
His response was the last thing I expected.  Pulling firmly on my
bare ass and tightening his lips around my cock, he took the entire
length into his mouth and increased the pace of his sucking.  I
couldn't control either my raging cock or my voice.  I felt the cum
erupt out of my dick and I screamed in ecstasy.  Brad milked me
dry as I lay there moaning with pure delight.

My dick softened in his mouth as I came down from orbit.

"Why'd you do that?" I asked.  "I warned you."

"Two reasons," he replied.  "I wanted to see if your cum tasted
any different than my own.  More than that, I thought you would
enjoy it more.  Did you?"

"It was friggin awesome!" I blurted out.  "I never even imagined
that it would be so ... so ... so fan-friggin-tastic!"

I suddenly got the urge to do for him what he had done for me
and I swallowed as much of his cock as I could.  No more
hesitation over having a cock in my mouth.  Not even any
indecision about having his cum filling my mouth or swallowing
it.  I worked his long rod for several minutes and began to wonder
if I was doing something wrong because he wasn't ejaculating.
Then I heard him say, "I'm ready, Brian.  You don't have to take
it in your mouth."

He took mine.  I was determined to take his.  I locked my lips
around his shaft, grabbed his ass, and pulled him into me.  His
moan was muted as he bucked his hips, forcing his cock to the
back of my throat.  I felt several volleys of cum blast forth.  It was
a struggle but I managed to swallow it all.

While Brad recuperated, I played with his softening cock and
occasionally licking off the last drops of cream that oozed out of
his slit.  I decided that his tasted much better than mine but
perhaps that was because it was his.

Eventually, we were forced by the chill in the air to make our way
back to the tent.  Tom was still sleeping soundly.  We carefully
slipped into our sleeping bags so as not to wake Tom.  It was a
long time before I could fall asleep.  But that was okay.  I had a
lot to think about: my first sex with another guy.  Not just any
guy, either.  It was Brad, my best friend, who -- until our sexy
play in the lake that day -- was a long-time buddy.  Now, he
meant far more to me.  We had intimately shared our bodies, our
secret selves, and our seed.

Eventually, we both yielded to sleep ... with each of us resting a
hand on the other's cock.

***************

My next conscious thought -- or almost conscious since it always
took me a while to wake up unless it was to shut off the alarm
clock -- was of a warm and very pleasant feeling in my cock.  As
I shook off the sleepiness, I realized that the pleasant feeling was
Brad's hand fondling my morning woody.  Suddenly realizing
where we were, I sat bolt upright.

"Relax, Brian," Brad cooed.  "Tom's gone off to get firewood.
He said he'd build a fire to chase away the morning chill for us.
We're alone.  At least for a little while."

He smiled at me -- something he'd done a thousand times over the
years we'd know each other.  But this smile was not the same.  It
warmed my heart.  It seemed to represent somehow the new
relationship we had formed in the forest.  Or was the sex in the
woods a dream.  No.  It was real.  My first real sex.  And with a
boy I liked more than any other.  A boy I was very fond of
(although I didn't realize at the time the full significance of my
affection for him).

"Any regrets about last night?" Brad asked.

"NO!  It was wonderful.  I never expected it to happen but I'm
grateful that it did ... grateful to you.  You made me very happy."

"I know what you mean," he replied thoughtfully.  "Can I tell you
a secret?  I've wanted it to happen for a long time.  No with just
anybody.  With you.  You say you're very happy.  Imagine how
happy I am after waiting and longing for you.  We were friends as
kids but for the last year or so I've come to like you more and
more.  I've watched you as you've begun to develop into a man.
That put a whole new dimension on why I like you.  Do I have to
spell it out?  Since you've grown, I've fantasized about you.  I
imagine that you're with me when I jerk off.  Does that sound
sick?  I don't think so.  I want to be more than your friend, Brian.
I want to have sex with you again and again ... whenever we can.
That would mean we'd be even better friends.  Are you willing?"

I couldn't help it.  Tears formed in my eyes.  I fell across his chest
and cried.  He wrapped his arms around me and held me tight.
His embrace felt wonderful.

I fought to gain control of my tears and my voice, and was finally
able to blubber, "What you just said was better than last night.
Now I know it was more than just sex.  I don't know if I deserve
you but I'm yours for as long as you'll have me."

I dissolved into tears again.  Brad didn't say a word.  He just
continued to hug me.

At the worst possible moment Tom stuck his head into the tent.
"Fire's ready," he called out.  Then, seeing me in Brad's arms, he
exclaimed, "What the fuck?"

Brad, bless him, was a quick thinker.  "Bad dream," he said.
"He'll be all right in a little while.  We'll be out when he feels
better."

I marshaled all the self-control I could to stem my tears and
regain control of myself.  "That was brilliant, Brad.  Thanks."

Fifteen minutes later, I was relatively calm.  However, I had to
pee without delay.  Brad and I dressed quickly and walked to the
edge of the clearing to empty our bladders and then joined Tom
by the fire.

"You okay, Brian?" Tom asked.

"A little embarrassed, maybe," I replied.  "But yes, I'm fine
now."

We munched on breakfast bars, apples, and Pepsi as the fire
provided the welcomed warmth in the chilly morning air.  We
talked for a couple of hours -- again about everything and nothing
-- until the sun chased away the chill.

How about a dip in the lake before we have to pack up and go
home?" Brad asked.  We agreed and all of us stripped off our
clothes.  But the water seemed colder than the previous day and
we soon got out to sit on a rock ledge that had been warmed by
the sun.  Tom wanted to put his clothes back on right away but we
persuaded him to sit with us in the nude to dry off first.

Brad sat in the middle and within a few minutes moved his leg so
that his bare thigh was pressed against mine.  Because of what we
had done the night before and what he said in the morning about
becoming sex partners, my mind was consumed with desire and
affection for him.  That, of course, triggered a stirring in my cock
that I fought to control.  My efforts were defeated, however, when
he laid a hand on my thigh and gently squeezed.  My cock rose to
full mast.  Glancing down at his, I noticed he was also developing
a hard-on.

I worried about that because of what Tom would think of us.  I
worried more when I saw that he was starring, without comment,
at our erections.  The sight of our hard cocks must have excited
him because his cock was rising.  He was shyer than I am and
initially made awkward attempts to hide his hard cock from view.

Brad made light of the situation.  "I guess we're all healthy
males," he laughed.

"And proud of it," I countered as I fondled myself.

With only a few more joking comments, all three of us were
creating opportunities to show off our hard cocks to each other.  I
was pleased that Tom seemed to have overcome his shyness and
modesty.  Brad's comments, however, were increasingly
suggestive and, it seemed to me, designed to encourage Tom to
do more with his cock than merely allow it to be seen.

We hung around on the rocky ledge for a long time buck-naked.
It felt so incredible to not have to wear clothes.  By this time, I no
longer felt reluctant to admire Brad's cock, firm round butt, and
solid body.  I did a lot of that and enjoyed every minute.  Brad, of
course, couldn't help but notice me admiring his masculinity and
seemed to create opportunities to give me a good show.  And I
noticed him checking out my equipment as well.  Shy Tom no
longer tried to cover his private parts but neither did he go out of
his way to display what he had.  Still, I noticed that he studied
Brad and me whenever he thought we weren't paying attention.

Over time, our cocks relaxed and, as it was getting close to noon,
Tom suggested we have something to eat.  He reached for his
clothes but Brad interrupted him by saying, "Just shoes, Tom.  If
we're going to be out enjoying nature, let's go natural."

"Great idea!" I said.  I slipped on my shoes and walked back to
the tent to pull out some snacks to eat.  Brad was right behind me.
Tom, after hesitating, left his clothes in a pile and joined in.

After eating there was still plenty of daylight and I wanted us to
get stiff again.  I sat on a submerged rock at the edge of the water.
My legs, ass, and crotch were in the water, leaving my torso high
and dry.  The rock was wide enough for three (barely) and I
invited Tom and Brad to sit with me.  Neither one hesitated to
join me.  Both, I think, were eager to play another game if it got
them hot and hard.  I sat in the middle, and they squeezed in on
either side of me.  Now our bare bodies were tightly pressed
together, from our chests to our toes.  Wet flesh felt great!   Our
soft cocks were bobbing right at the surface of the water.

Then Tom said, "My dick won't stay submerged."  Sure enough,
he was getting hard.  It was odd that he, the shy guy, was the first
to show arousal at our being tight up against each other's bodies.
Brad and I both got aroused at seeing Tom's blooming cock and at
being squeezed up against each other.  My dick rose quickly;
Brad's dick took a little longer.  I wished I had a picture of this
(besides the mental one I would always have) of us -- three naked,
glistening, teenage boys sitting pressed together with our hard-ons
poking out of the water.

Tom was pushing his dick into the water, trying to hide it.  Of
course, this only made it stiffer.  I was casually stroking my dick.
I asked Tom if he ever jacked off.  He shyly admitted that he did.

"Well, if you want to, I don't mind" I told him.

"Let's do it together," Brad quickly added.  Clearly, Brad was as
eager for sexual fun as I was.  I wasted no time and started
jacking myself.  Brad started stroking his huge cock.  My right
elbow was bumping him in the chest because we were pressed
together so tightly.  Tom was watching us wide-eyed, and Brad
told him to get busy like the rest of us.  I had jerked off hundreds
of times by myself but the sight of two others joining me gave me
a thrill I'd never had before.  I was ready to cum in record time
and told the others, "Watch this," and shot four or five hard spurts
of white cum into the air, which then splashed into the water, onto
me my leg and Brad's.

Brad laughed and said, "I can do better than that!"  In about 20
seconds he moaned and shot a long pearly rope of cum into the
air.  It arched gracefully up and then down, most of it landing on
my chest and my right arm and shoulder.  Obviously, he had
aimed it at me.  The warm feeling was almost too much.  I wiped
off a handful and spread it on my cock which was beginning to go
soft but, with Brad's slippery goo, came to attention again.
Finally Tom came, after I urged him to hurry and squirt like the
rest of us.  He lifted his ass up, arched his back and blew a load
all over his belly, and down his hand.  We sat there a few more
minutes laughing and resting.  Our cum floated away in the water
between our legs.  We crawled into the water, washed off the
remaining cum, and got dressed.

We hiked back to Brad's car and he drove us home, dropping
Tom off first.

"That was one terrific weekend," I said as he pulled up in front of
my house.

Brad shot me a devilish grin and held my hand in both of his,
saying, "It was wonderful.  Especially because you were there.
We'll have to do it again.  Next weekend?"

"That would be wonderful," I smiled back.

***************

The following Friday, Brad picked me up after supper.  I was
elated that we would be able to spend two nights with Brad but
was disappointed to see Tom in the car.  That would spoil my
quality time with Brad.

The sun had set when we finally arrived at the lake.  We had only
enough time to set up the tent before it got dark.  We talked and
joked for a while ... or at least Brad and Tom did.  I had little to
say because I was thinking mostly about how to get together with
Brad for some serious sexual play.

Eventually, we stripped down to our underwear and crawled into
the tent to get some sleep.  Tom grabbed the middle position.  I
wanted to sleep next to Brad but couldn't be too obvious in
arranging it so I settled in, frustrated and angry with Tom.  I lay
awake for what seemed to be an eternity, waiting for Tom to fall
asleep and Brad to signal that we could sneak off into the woods.

I was surprised to feel something on my stomach.  It was a hand,
gently moving down toward my underwear.  It was Tom's hand!
Tom!  The shy guy!  I couldn't believe it!  His hand was inching
toward my cock.  I decided that I would pretend to be asleep and
see what happened.  If he continued, I might like what he was
doing.  If I said anything, he would stop and I might miss out on
something.  As his hand slid into my briefs, I started to get hotter.
By the time his hand touched my cock, I was stiffening up.  He
slowly explored my pubic hair and then moved on to fondle my
cock that was soon rock hard.

I tried to figure out why Tom had the courage, much less the
desire, to do this to me.  I concluded, however, that he was not all
that different from me.  I was not as shy as he was but given the
sexual play in the lake the previous weekend and all of us
sprouting boners and showing off, I might very well do to him
(or, preferably, to Brad) what he was now doing to me.

I listened carefully.  Brad's breathing told me he was sound
asleep.  That upset me.  I had fully expected him to stay awake
and we could sneak off into the woods again.  But then I realized
that he had been working long, hard hours all week.  I convinced
myself that he had tried to stay awake but was just too tired to do
so.

"Okay," I thought.  "If I can't have sex with Brad, I'll settle for
second-best.  I'll let Tom do whatever he planned to do to me."

He moved closer to me.  His hand lowered and caressed my balls.
Although I wanted to take a more active role in this game, I
continued to pretend I was asleep.  I would just lie there and enjoy
it.

Then he stopped!  There I was, hot, hard, and ready for action,
and he stopped!  Just as I was about to tell him to keep going, I
felt his hands slowly and gently lowering my underwear.  I dared
to open my eyes enough to steal a glance.  He was now kneeling
next to me.  He had taken off his briefs and was sporting a log.
Had I been asleep, his moving my underwear would surely have
awakened me but I continued to pretend deep sleep.  He was
moving slowly, so as not to wake me (Little did he know.) and I
was getting hornier and harder.  Finally, my briefs were down,
letting my prick taste the night air.  Each time he touched it, it
would quiver.  I was thoroughly enjoying his invasion of my
private parts but my cock and balls began to demand orgasmic
release.  The urge intensified but Tom was not stroking hard
enough to trigger a climax.  I desperately wanted to grab my cock,
give it a couple of jerks, and spray cum over me and Tom but I
lay still to see what he might do for me.  I was not to be
disappointed.

His hand was gone for just a moment.  I opened my eyes slightly
to see what he was doing.  Strangely, he was spitting on his hand.
Then he put his hand back to my begging cock.  It was now
slippery and the sensation of his hand sliding with little friction
over the head of my cock almost caused me to moan.  He began
gently rubbing the head of my fully engorged cock.  The
sensation nearly drove me wild.  It was all I could do to continue
pretending to be asleep.  He used one finger, two fingers, or the
palm of his hand to continue rubbing, ever so gently the tip of my
cock.  He would slowly circle the base and then softly ascend up
to the top and the piss hole.  He would occasionally spit in his
hand to keep everything moist.  When his hand returned, with
fresh warm saliva, my cock welcomed it by growing harder.  Tom
obviously knew what he was doing.  He knew methods I hadn't
discovered.  And it was wonderful.  My jerking off had always
been a dry "grasp the shaft and pump" method.  The warm moist
saliva and the almost maddening rubbing of the tip of the cock
was a new and extremely stimulating sensation.

When I thought I could stand it no longer and was on the verge of
grabbing my pleading cock and jerking it to release the intense
pressure of what must now be a river of cum, I felt the
unmistakable onset of orgasm.  I felt the cum rise through the
shaft of my cock as I had never felt it before.  My cock quivered.
No, convulsed is a better description.  The cum swelling in my
cock built up a massive and intense sensation.  The stream of cum
emerged with such pressure that I was sure it would shoot over
my head and all over my face.  But Tom's hand diverted it all onto
my stomach.  I couldn't help moaning in sheer delight.  But I
continued the pretense.  I lay quietly and tried to breathe deeply
while I decided what to do next.  I surely didn't want to wake in
the morning with cum all over because of what Brad might think.

After a moment or two, I felt something on my stomach again.  In
the dim light, I could see Tom licking up the pools of cum to
clean up my mess.  He would use his tongue to lick up some of
the still warm cum, draw it into his mouth, and slowly swallow it
before returning for more.  His obvious delight in this told me that
he must have been relishing his own cum when he masturbated on
his own.  It was also strangely exciting to watch him and I noticed
that my cock was still hard and erect.  Whenever I had jacked off
before, my cock went soft right away but watching Tom kept me
stimulated.

When the last drop of cum was cleaned up, Tom ever so gently
pulled my briefs back up and lay back down.  After a very short
time, I rolled onto my side, laid my arm across Tom's chest and
whispered into his ear, "Thanks.  Can I return the favor?"  He was
stone still for a long time and didn't say a word.  "It's okay," I
assured him.  "I enjoyed it."

Finally, he asked, "Were you awake?"

"Yes," I said, "the whole time.  And I'd like to do the same for
you."

Again, a silent pause before he said, "Sure.  And thanks."

I repeated the process he had shown me.  Along the way, he softly
gave me some more tips on what to do and how to do it.  I've used
these tips frequently on myself since that night and they increased
my masturbation pleasure.  I'll always be grateful to Tom but my
affection was reserved for Brad.

I was lying with my head on his stomach so as to be close and get
a good look at his cock.  When he was ready to cum, he moaned,
"Here I go!"  Without thinking about it, without even knowing
what I was doing, I opened my mouth hoping to catch his
squirting cum.  I was just in time to receive his load . . . or most
of it.  Some dribbled out my mouth, down my chin, and onto his
pubic hair.  I swallowed and sat up.  "Good timing," Tom said,
"but next time, swish it around in your mouth for the full effect."
My word, the things I didn't know about Tom and about the finer
points of jerking off.

We lay there on our backs a long time, fully awake but saying
nothing.  My thoughts drifted to Brad who was breathing deeply.
I thought about his massive cock.  I thought about how his cock
stood up above his beautiful sack of balls and in front of a thicket
of pubic hair.  Mostly, I thought of that glorious time we had off
in the woods when we sucked each other and what he said the
next morning about wanting to be my sex partner.  I worried that I
had been unfaithful to him by letting Tom jerk me off and, even
worse, my jerking him off in return.  But, I rationalized, that was
just sex; it had no basis in loyalty or affection or meaningful
bonding.

Still, I thought Brad should be in on the fun and should know that
Tom was not the modest prude that we initially thought.
Knowing that, we could all be freer to engage in sex and not
worry about our secret needs being disclosed to those who
wouldn't understand.  Therefore, I said to Tom, "We've had our
fun but poor Brad missed out."  Tom picked up on it and replied,
"Well, what should we do about it?"  Without another word, we
got up and positioned ourselves on either side of the sleeping
Brad.

We turned on a flashlight to see Brad's beautiful cock better.
With the flashlight on, we gently lowered his briefs, first
revealing the pillow of black curly pubic hair, then his cock (still
soft but appearing enormous to both of us), then his balls hanging
below.  We both starred for a long time, examining every curve,
bulge, and feature of this enviable organ.  Tom made the first
move.  He stuck a finger in Brad's hair and twirled it round and
round; I just watched.  He then moved down to the balls and
fondled them.  I could see Brad's cock very slowly and very
slightly enlarging.  I was content to watch but found myself
slowly stroking my cock that was hardening anew.

Tom licked his fingers and started gently rubbing the tip of Brad's
cock which responded by swelling, lengthening, and then
standing up.  Tom spit again and continued the routine, working
around the base of the head and working up in a circular motion
to his piss hole.  Brad inhaled sharply and both Tom and I froze.
We didn't mind waking him but we wanted more time to play
with his enviable cock.

His deep breathing resumed and I moved in to fondle his balls.
Brad was well endowed there, too -- firm round balls moving
freely in a large sack.  It was a pleasure to see Brad's cock but to
actually touch and rub it was even more arousing.  That strange
feeling returned, not just curiosity, not just being adventuresome,
but a desire.  Tom continued spitting and rubbing while I got a
good close-up look at Brad's cock getting slightly larger all the
time and responding with quivers.  When it seemed Brad was
about to cum, I moved my hand back to my fully erect cock.  I
noticed that Tom, too, was hard again.

Brad's cock convulsed and exploded a huge amount of cum which
was deftly diverted by Tom's hand so that it pooled around Brad's
navel.  Tom moved in to clean it up but I whispered "Wait, that's
only a one-course meal."  I kneeled next to Brad and with only a
few strokes shot a small of cum onto Brad's stomach where it
merged with Brad's.

"Good idea," whispered Tom.  "Now I'll add the desert to this
meal."  He kneeled, began to stroke, and in a few moments
deposited a third load of cum onto Brad's stomach.  "Want to
share the feast?" Tom asked.

"Just the first taste," I replied, "I want to swish some around like
you said to see what it's like."

Tom smiled and said, "Okay, you first."  There was plenty of cum
lying invitingly on Brad's stomach so I got a healthy portion in
my mouth.  I tasted a medley of the warm juices from all of our
cocks.  It was more than I had hoped for.  Tom then finished off
the rather large pool of cum on Brad's stomach.

Look, I whispered, there's more oozing out of his prick.  I bent
down and licked the fresh cum. Before savoring it, however, I
wrapped my mouth around the head of Brad's huge cock and
rubbed it with my tongue.  Brad's cock did not relax but quivered
in my mouth.  Then I sat up to swish and swallow.

Tom and I sat there for a while when Brad's voice, loud and clear,
exploded into our reverie, "Thanks, guys.  I thought you'd never
get around to me."  Realizing that he had been awake all the time,
we burst into laughter.

The next morning, when Brad and I were alone, he said, "I
apologize for last night.  I tried to stay awake so we could sneak
off together.  I've looked forward to being with you all week.  I
did wake up when you and Tom were going at it but I decided to
let you have your fun."

"You're not mad that we did it?" I asked.

"Hell, no.  I just wish that you and I had gone off together.  That
would have been better.  Because you're special to me."

"Thanks," I replied.  "For understanding.  And for saying I'm
special to you.  Because you're very special to me, too."

We spent the entire day at the campsite in the nude.  We
periodically splashed around in the lake but the highlights of the
day were when we engaged in sex with each other -- sometimes
one-on-one with the third person either watching or helping.  My
favorite was when we daisy-chained in a threesome because I
won the privilege of sucking Brad while Tom sucked me.  We
were sated with sex by the time we climbed into our sleeping bags
and probably had no more cum left.

In the morning, we packed our things and returned home.

I re-lived the experience in my mind frequently during the next
few days.  Each time I remembered that wonderful weekend, I
found myself getting hot and hard.  If I was around other people I
would have to consciously divert my mind or they might see the
rising bulge in my crotch.  If I was alone, however, I let things
develop, using Tom's spit-rub method.  Sometimes, I would scoop
up my cum and savor its taste before swallowing it.  I found
myself jerking off two or even three times a day with the
satisfaction enhanced because of the memories of Tom and Brad
and our orgy.


Nearly every weekend that summer was spent at the lake.  The
best of those were when Tom couldn't come and it was just Brad
and I.  On those weekends, it was more than sex games and
sensual gratification.  I was with the boy I grew increasingly fond
of and the emotions and satisfactions transcended mere sexual
gratification.  Brad expressed similar feelings, telling me that it
was special when it was just the two of us.

The few weekends we couldn't make the trip were
disappointments but throughout the summer, we all enjoyed our
solo jerks and looked forward to the next "sex camp."  The low
spot of the summer was when Brad was pressured by his family to
take his cousin, Jimmy, to the lake.  He didn't want to but could
think of no way to get out of it.  Tom and I were also disappointed
but hoped for the best as we set off to our camping spot.  Brad
made it very clear that we had to be on "good behavior" the whole
time.

Having set up the tent, we went for a swim (complete with swim
trunks, unfortunately).  Cousin Jimmy was having a great time
while we longed for some real fun.  We couldn't help getting in
some grabs and gropes (underwater or when Jimmy wasn't
looking) but still felt extremely frustrated.  When finally we went
ashore, we took off our wet trunks and longingly looked at the
others' cocks.  How inviting.  How close.  How impossible!

After eating, Brad suggested another swim.  Tom and I looked at
him questioningly.  But he added, "My trunks are wet and cold.
I'm going to skinny-dip."  Tom and I nodded in agreement.

"You mean naked?" asked Jimmy.

"Sure," said Tom.  "Look, there's nobody around but us guys.  It's
okay."  At this point, I had mixed feelings.  I wanted some naked
fun, a good hard-on or two, and a genuine jerk.  But that was
impossible with Jimmy among us.  Just getting naked and doing
no more would be a real bummer.

In the water, with occasional glimpses of our three eager cocks
and with memories of previous trips, it was impossible to stay
soft.  Although none of us were showing off our equipment like
we had before, it was still obvious that we were all aroused.
"Hey," Jimmy shouted, "you've all got boners!"

"That's natural," Brad replied.

"Shucks," Jimmy boasted, "I get boners all the time."  None of us
knew what to say and looked to Brad for guidance.  He just
shrugged and went back to swimming.

It wasn't long before Jimmy stood up in the shallow water near
shore, hands on his hips, pelvis thrust forward.  He was proudly
displaying his hard little cock.  "See, I can do it, too," he shouted.
His cock was not big but it was relatively erect, standing there
above a small sack of balls and in front of some sparse fuzz that
would no doubt grow into a nice pubic patch before too long.
Normally, seeing another hard cock and thinking of what it could
do with a little coaxing would turn me on.  But Brad's firm
warning earlier, dampened my desires.

"Good for you," Brad called, and immediately encouraged us to
join in a final splash before going ashore.  I took that to mean,
"Leave him alone . . . and leave yourself alone."

After eating, Brad sent Jimmy to the lakeshore to rinse the dishes.
Brad took the opportunity to say, "Sorry, guys.  I'm really sorry.
I'll take Jimmy for a hike.  I'll be gone for at least 45 minutes.
You do what you want."  The meaning was clear and both Tom
and I said, "Thanks."

Tom and I walked about 100 yards in the opposite direction to
insure not being surprised if they returned early.  On a grassy
spot, Tom lay down and I knelt over him.  I slowly pulled his tee
shirt up to his arm pits and started massaging his chest, paying
special attention to his nipples, and gradually downward.  As I
loosened his belt, I noticed the obvious bulge in his crotch.  His
eyes were closed, he was fully relaxed, but his cock was getting
ready for action.  I moved my hand under his shorts and gently
moved his cock into an upright position.  Then I removed my
hand but massaged his growing cock through his clothes.  By the
time I slowly lowered his shorts, I could see the spot on his briefs
where the precum had been oozing.  He was ready to cum but was
obviously enjoying the complete relaxation in every part of his
body except the eager cock.  I lowered his briefs and exposed his
not large but still interesting cock.  The sight of it made me go
hard.  I continued with some massaging (abs, inner thighs, balls,
but not cock).  The cock seemed to get slightly larger, firmer, and
more erect each time I got my hands close to it.  Tom, by now,
was quietly moaning.  I admit I enjoyed teasing him, getting him
close but never doing enough to put him over the edge.  I
expected him to say something to urge me along but he just
moaned more loudly ... almost as if he were in pain.  (Later, he
said that he was in pain but that you can enjoy pain.  And when
you finally discharge, it's even more pleasurable.  Another lesson
I learned from the boy who I thought was a shy prude.)  Now he
was gently thrusting his hips slowly and then gradually faster.  I
kept my hands on his thighs, balls, and pubes deliberately
avoiding touching his cock.  His eyes were still closed, he was
moaning more frequently, and the thrusting became more
vigorous.

Suddenly, to my great surprise, his cock quivered as I watched the
slight bulge rise quickly up the shaft of his cock from the balls to
the tip where a stream of creamy fluid oozed slowly out of his
cock head.  As the flow of cum subsided, it ran down into his
pubic hair.

After trembling for a few moments, he opened his eyes and
looked at me.  "That was wonderful," he said.  "It's something I
dreamed of being able to do.  I've called it a 'think off' rather than
a jerk off.  Being able to cum without touching my cock, I mean.
Sure, you were a big part of it but you didn't touch my cock and I
had one of the best orgasms ever.  Thanks."

Tom repeated the technique for me but, as good as he is with
sensuous technique, it didn't work.  After several minutes of
agony, I grabbed my steel-hard cock, gave it two strokes and let
the cum fly.

"Sorry," Tom apologized.

"Don't be sorry," I assured him.  I just don't have your self-
control.  Or concentration.  Or whatever it takes.  I couldn't take
the pressure."

"Maybe next time," Tom said.

"We'd better be getting back," I said.

Back in camp, Brad and Jimmy were just returning.  It was
getting dark so we put a log on the fire for a little more light and
went to bed.  It had been crowded in the tent with three of us but
more so when Jimmy crawled into Brad's sleeping bag for the
night   I was longing for Brad.  But there was Jimmy to consider.
I fell asleep.

I felt a hand shaking my shoulder.  "Don't make a sound,"
whispered Brad, "and don't make any sudden moves.  Just look.
Down by the fire."  Jimmy was there by the dwindling fire.  The
light of the fire was just enough to see that he had removed his
briefs and was intently playing with himself.  I woke Tom in the
same way Brad had roused me.  The three of us watched Jimmy
exploring his emerging manhood.  He was on his knees with his
ass sitting on his ankles.  His legs were spread wide apart and was
stroking up and down feverishly with two fingers and thumb.  We
watched but knew that we couldn't let him see us watching.  It
wasn't long before he slowed down, leaned his head backwards,
and let a burst of cum shoot into the dying embers of the fire
where it sizzled.  In a quiet but firm whisper, Brad said, "Don't
even think about it.  He's not ready for prime time.  Leave him
alone.  Besides, the risk is too great."

Jimmy quietly returned to the tent and lay down as I thought
about his proudly displaying his boner earlier in the day and
ecstatically jerking off late at night.  And then I thought of Brad.
He gave Tom and me a chance for a good time on this trip but had
had none for himself.  I wondered why he was so willing to let
Tom and me go off by ourselves.  Did he not mind my having sex
with someone else?  No, I convinced myself.  He was just being
considerate.

The trip with Jimmy was not a complete bust but it certainly
wasn't the best.  Other weekends were much better.  We would
strip off our clothes as soon as we arrived at the lake and never
put them back on until it was time to return home.  Sometimes,
our trips featured "normal" kinds of mutual masturbation which,
don't get me wrong, was thoroughly enjoyable and provided a lot
to look forward to during the week.  Sometimes, however, there
were some creative activities that added even more variety and
excitement.

There were competitions like the "time trial."  At some point
when we were all completely soft one person would yell "time
trial" and we would immediately get ourselves hard and jerk off.
The first one to cum was declared the winner and the other two
had to stop for five minutes.  The winner then got to play with the
others' cocks until they shot their load of cum.  If you don't win
this one, it can be torture to be on the brink of orgasm and have to
stop.  But then when the winner grabs your cock and brings you
to release, the pleasure is magnificent.

There was also the "payload competition."  We all jerked off and
shot all our cum into small paper cups.  The biggest load of cum
was the winner who then could smear himself (or the others if he
wanted) with all three cups of cum.  This usually kept everyone
aroused beyond our orgasm because the winner inevitably
smeared the losers in all the erotic zones.  Brad always won with
the biggest payload and more often than not would spread cum
over Tom.  Why did he choose Tom?  I convinced myself that he
did it to help Tom come out of his shell of modesty.

We also had height competitions -- who could squirt his cum the
highest onto a tree trunk -- and distance competitions -- who
could squirt the farthest.  In this game, we quickly learned to cum
while squeezing the base of our cocks to keep the cum inside
under pressure.  Then, releasing our grip while using muscular
control in our crotch we could almost double the distance we shot.

Another competition we called the endurance trial.  We would
gather around and start to jerk off, continuing until the precum
oozed out of our piss hole.  That started the clock.  The guy who
waited the longest for a full ejaculation of cum without losing his
erection was the winner.  This activity forced self-control, caused
some frustration wanting to finish the job, but resulted in intense
satisfaction when the pent-up cum finally spewed forth.

Sometimes, sitting around the campfire, we would tell tall-tales
about our fantasies.  In our minds we experienced all kinds of
masturbations ... solo in unusual ways or environments ... or with
other real or imagined people -- both male and female.  There was
some informal competition among us to see who could think up
the most unusual and most satisfying ways to enjoy ourselves.

With all the variety and pleasure of sexual release, we found that
there would be times when one of us just couldn't get it up.  Brad
was the first, on about our fourth trip.  He felt embarrassed that he
couldn't "perform" but Tom and I resisted teasing him but,
instead, said that it was bound to happen to all of us eventually.  It
was then that we found out there are other ways to enjoy our
bodies.  Tom offered Brad a massage.  Brad agreed and later said
that it was a thoroughly enjoyable experience because Tom was
simply rubbing his body and made it clear he expected no sexual
response.  Massages became a sometime feature and we learned
that masturbation, as great as it is, is not the only way to derive
pleasure from our bodies.


On one of our camping trips, Brad said, "Wouldn't it be great to
have some pictures of us all having fun.  They would help us
remember the great times we're having."

I thought about it for a minute and replied, "Sure.  It would be
great.  They could give me even more stimulation and pleasure
during the week when we were not together.  But I'm not sure we
should.  First of all, who's going to take the pictures?  Second,
they'd be mighty embarrassing if anyone else saw them."

"I'm sure nobody but us will ever see them.  And I've got a
photographer."

"Hold on," I objected. "We don't want others knowing what we do
together!  If it got around, people wouldn't understand!"

"Not to worry," he assured me and proceeded to explain why.  "I
found a book bag.  I looked inside to see whose it was.  His name
was in there, all right, but there was something very interesting.
He had some porno photographs -- not the kind you clip out of a
gay magazine or download from the net.  These were actual
photographic prints.  They were all girl-guy pairs but different
girls and always the same guy, Steve.  You probably know him
from school.  His hobby is photography and he's the son of a
prominent fundamentalist minister.  Unlike his straight-laced
father, Steve obviously has a liberal mind.  And some liberal
girlfriends who enjoyed his company.  I returned the book bag to
Steve but kept the photos.  Just like I expected, he got me aside a
couple of days later and asked me if I kept anything from his
book bag.  I told him I found the photographs.  He panicked for
fear his father would find out but I made a shady offer.  I told him
I'd give his pictures back if he would take some pictures of one of
our parties here at the lake.  All he had to do was take the
pictures, give me the negatives and three prints, and he'd get
pictures back with a promise of silence."

"Still a little risky," I said.  "But suppose he makes another set
and shows them around school?"

"Believe me, he won't.  He's scared shitless that we'd tell his
father about the wicked pictures he's taking."

"Okay," I said.  "I'll trust your judgment."

Steve joined us on our next camping trip.  Brad, Tom, and I
picked him up at his house on Saturday morning.  Less then ten
minutes into the drive, he said, "So, guys.  Where are the girls?"

"Oh!  I forgot to tell you.  It'll just be us guys."

"Holy shit!" he exclaimed.  "Are you saying that you're all
queer?"

"No," Brad said.  "We're not queers.  We're not fags.  We're not
depraved sinners.  We just happen to enjoy a few sexual games.
You got a problem with that?"

Reacting to Brad's assertive tone, Steve meekly replied, "No."

Steve started shooting pictures of us setting up camp but Brad
quickly advised him, "Save the film for the good stuff later."
Steve complied but still appeared to be nervous about what he
was supposed to photograph.

When we finished setting up camp, I started to anticipate the
activities.  Every rock, tree, and stretch of beach stimulated
thoughts of what we had enjoyed together.  We then undressed for
the cooling swim.  As soon as we were all naked, Brad told Steve,
"You can start shooting pictures anytime.  "We'll just do our thing
and ignore you.  Just get some good pictures."

Steve nodded compliantly.

It was hard to ignore Steve.  First, having an "audience" tended to
make us more inhibited than we normally were.  Second, Steve
was the kind of guy who drew attention: only about 5'6" but
solidly built.  His clothes were not tight but would sometimes
reveal a tight ass and a promising bulge in his crotch.  Moreover,
the pictures from his book bag (which Brad had shown to Tom
and me) revealed that he was hung at least as well as Brad.  Being
blond, his pubic hair did not adequately set off his erect cock but
it still looked worthy of closer inspection.  I wondered if we could
get a close look at Steve's cock.  After all, I had wanted to do the
same for Brad's early in the summer and look what happened.

As we started our water games, we were all soft ... no doubt due
to Steve's snapping pictures ... but soon enough, with enough
groping and grabbing, we started to get hard.  Tom was the last to
sprout a woodie.  For some time, in the water and on shore, we
goofed off showing our asses and cocks to Steve as much as
possible but not getting down to any serious masturbation.  Steve
took several pictures before I noticed a tell-tale bulge in his
crotch.  Was he was aroused by the sight of our hard cocks?
Could we get him to join us?  "How can I get his pants off?" I
asked myself.  It was clear I could not do it alone and that Brad
was controlling Steve.  I had to recruit Brad's help.

"Once Steve gets some good pictures," I said to Brad when Steve
couldn't hear, "is there any reason he can't join our fun?"  "I'm a
step ahead of you," Brad replied, "I've wanted to get into his pants
since I first saw his pictures.  Just be patient."  The underlying
significance of that comment escaped me at the time.

Throughout the afternoon, we posed for pictures (some hard,
some soft) and Steve got some snaps of us frolicking.  But we still
hadn't got down to serious jerking off and my balls were
beginning to feel the pressure.  When Brad suggested it was time
for a threesome jerk, Tom and I didn't object.  Even Steve,
standing alongside, (fully clothed but still bulging) didn't dampen
our eagerness to get it on.  We lay down on a blanket.  I'm on my
side giving Brad a long slow spit jerk.  Brad, on his back, is doing
the same for me.  And Tom is behind me with his cock between
my legs and his hand alternately massaging and pinching my
nipples.  We had done this many times and it was no longer
necessary to coordinate our orgasms with comments because we
could read each others bodies.

Brad suddenly shouted at Steve to get ready to shoot some great
pictures.  As we all reached climax together, we all shot cum that
had been accumulating it seemed forever.  Brad's body, pelvis,
and legs were drenched in creamy juice.  Steve got the pictures of
a lifetime.  Then, as we writhed together in the slippery sauce,
Steve got some more.

It was painfully obvious that Steve was as hard as a rock and
trying (unsuccessfully) to hide it from us.  Brad called to him.
"OK Steve, your job is over and well done.  Put away the camera.
It's play time for all of us now.  Join us for a swim."  Steve stared
at Brad for a moment, not sure what to do.  "Come on," urged
Brad, "you've done your work.  Now it's time to relax."

Steve still didn't move but stammered "Ah . . . no thanks."  Brad
looked at me, winked, and said, "Think we can persuade him?"
We rushed him, removed his shoes, shirt, and pants, leaving him
in his boxer shorts that still revealed his hard cock underneath.
"Come on, Steve; let's take a dip in the lake."  He was either
willing, too surprised to resist, or just being obedient as we led
him to the water.

In the water, we left him pretty much alone except that we made
sure to give him plenty of good views of our asses and cocks and
demonstrate that we enjoyed grabbing and groping.  Eventually,
the four of us sat in the water by the shore -- our butts on the
muddy bottom, our cocks bobbing in the rippling water -- and
swapped stories about how much fun we had masturbating.

Steve was quiet until he asked, "You guys do this all the time?"

"Sure, nearly every weekend," Brad assured him, "During the
week, we have to jerk ourselves off a lot.  Every guy does that ...
whether they admit it or not.  It's just that we maybe do it more
and enjoy it more.  Maybe other guys don't do it together like we
do but I'll bet most of them would enjoy it if they had the
chance."

Steve was silent again while we resumed our chatter.  Suddenly
Steve asked another question, "You guys like girls, too?"

That was something that had never really come up in our many
conversations.  We talked about girls enough and how it might
feel to have our cocks inside a warm, moist pussy.  We wondered
how girls felt in an orgasm and speculated about how to give girls
the peak of pleasure.  But we had never discussed our
preferences.  Brad replied first, "I've done some heavy petting.
Even fingered a couple of wet pussies.  I've been up at bat several
times but never got a home run.  But I expect to sometime.  That
doesn't mean I can't enjoy a good orgasm while I'm with guys.  It
would seem a little monotonous to have a steady diet of just one
form of satisfaction."

Brad's comment that he expected to fuck a girl sometime worried
me.  I rationalized it away by thinking he just wanted Steve to
think he wasn't totally gay.

Tom said that he hadn't even gotten into a girl's panties yet but
only because none in his crowd were available or willing.  And he
admitted to fantasizing a lot about being with girls like Steve had
in his pictures.

I was quiet.  Brad and Tom looked at me expectantly.  I finally
said, "I don't know.  I might be gay," I said quietly, with my head
down and eyes closed, "Right now, I'm turned on more by men
than women.  But I just don't know yet."  That was not entirely
true.  I knew I was gay but (like Brad, I thought) I didn't want
Steve to know my secret.

"Still," added Brad in a hurry, "Straight, bi, or gay, there's room in
everyone's life for some good self-satisfaction.  How do you do it,
Steve?"

Steve was quiet for a while but finally admitted that his sex drive
was immense and he relieved himself nearly every day but
thought he was weird for doing it.  "Hell no," said Brad, "We do it
nearly every day and enjoy it every time.  And I'll bet every other
guy our age does it several times a week.  Some guys, though,
may not enjoy it as much as they could because they think it's
wrong somehow."

I added my thoughts, "From what I've read and heard, every male
does it whether they're young, old, married, single, whatever.  The
three of us accept that.  We enjoy jerking off together.  And we
enjoy it alone.  If you only do it alone, you're missing out."

The four of us sat quietly for a while.  I was thinking that Brad
and I had started Steve thinking in the right direction and that,
with luck, we'd get a good look at his cock and even see him
squirt a load.  Tom suggested dinner.  We all rinsed off, stood up,
and walked to the campsite.  None of us had kept our hard-on
very long but all of us knew the evening was young.

After dinner, it was Tom who took charge.  His shy manner made
him particularly sensitive to Steve's feelings.

"Look, Steve," Tom began.  "It's been a new experience for you to
see guys together enjoying themselves.  But that's just another
side of our existence as guys.  You've said that you have a healthy
sex drive.  That's a good thing.  Lots of people don't have the
appetite and they miss out on a lot of very satisfying sexual
experience.  You've said that you like girls.  That's good.  Keep
that feeling.  Girls can give you great pleasure.  But don't lock out
other pleasures."  Tom paused while Steve digested the advice.

"You came on this trip under pressure," Tom continued.  "We're
glad to have you along.  But your obligations are over.  You can
now do what you want.  I think if you open yourself up to a new
experience, it will not detract from your other satisfactions.  You
can still jerk off as much as you like alone.  You can still be with
girls and satisfy yourself and them.  Your sex drive is a blessing.
And, you've got great equipment down in your crotch.  That's a
blessing too.  Take advantage of what you've got, Steve.  Enjoy
yourself.  Enjoy the girls.  And enjoy being with guys."  Tom
paused again for Steve to absorb the message.  Brad and I sat
quietly in awe of Tom's comforting, persuasive manner.

"Look," Tom began again.  "Here's a deal.  Let me show you a
new sensation that I guarantee will be one of the best orgasms
you've had so far.  You can tell me to stop at any time and I'll
back off without question.  But if you want to open yourself up to
another world of pleasure . . . without losing what you already
enjoy by yourself and with girls, then let me help you."

Steve said nothing.  Brad and I both wanted Steve to agree.  We
wanted a close look at his endowment.  We wanted to watch him
as he sprayed his juices.  But we knew that Tom was winning his
confidence and we could add nothing to the effort.

Finally, Steve finally agreed.

"Okay," Tom continued in his easy, comforting tone.  "I'm going
to undress you.  Just lay back and enjoy.  Can the other guys
watch?"

"Okay," said Steve.

Tom removed Steve's shirt, quietly complimenting him on the
tone of his muscles and the tan of his skin.  The shoes and socks
came off but not without a gentle messaging of the soles of the
feet.  The belt came off.  We could see a slight bulge in Steve's
crotch.  The pants came down and then, ever so slowly, the boxer
briefs revealing Steve's beefy cock.  I thought I heard a slight
gasp from Brad.  I stiffled mine.  Steve's cock was better than his
pictures showed.  He was one well-hung dude.  And the thought
of the pussies his cock had explored was tantalizing.

Tom continued to quietly mutter to Steve.  How good it would
feel, how to relax and enjoy, and how good his equipment was.
Steve was, by this time, fully in Tom's hands and getting more
and more aroused.  His long cock hardened quickly as he lay on
his back.  Brad and I moved silently in for a closer look at Steve's
marvelous tool.  Our own cocks grew hard and we both began
gently stroking them.

Tom did the massage bit, starting at the shoulders and working
down.  Steve would sigh as his long cock quivered from time to
time.  Tom reached the pubes and gently fingered the long curly
blond hairs.  Steve responded with obvious pleasure.  Tom moved
to the thighs and used some sensuous moves with his hands up
toward Steve's crotch.  Steve began to moan.

Then Tom started the spit rub on the head of Steve's cock which,
it seemed, was swelling even larger with every new movement of
Tom's capable hand.

"Now!" pleaded Steve. "Do it now!"

"Not just yet, Steve," Tom quietly assured his eager partner.  "Just
enjoy the feelings."  And he continued to spit, rub, and tantalize.

"Now!" screamed Steve, "Now!"  But Tom replied softly, "Not
just yet.  You're experiencing something new and wonderful.
Enjoy it.  Enjoy all of it.  Let it last a little while longer."

Brad and I were still slowly stroking each other and waiting for
Steve to ejaculate before we let ourselves go.  Tom continued; his
spit was no longer needed because Steve's precum was oozing out
profusely.  (For that matter, so was mine.)  Steve groaned loudly,
his bloated cock quivered and began to convulse as he arched his
back up.  The cum, that had been building for who knows how
long came out in a torrent shooting up over Steve's shoulder,
down his chest, and pooling on his stomach.  Steve collapsed.
His whole body trembled for a moment and then lay still while he
moaned, "Oh God, that was wonderful."  As Steve lay there, more
cum was slowly oozing out of his cock and dripping down.  After
that massive stream of gorgeous cum that exploded from his
bloated cock, there was still some in reserve that now ever so
slowly oozed its way out his piss hole.  Watching, Brad and I
were captivated by the sight and forgot our own jerking in awe of
Steve's obvious ecstasy.  That awesome cock.  The torrent of
cum.

Tom looked up at us as we hovered close to Steve's dick, taking
in every detail of sight and smell. He asked, "Who's next?"  Both
Brad and I volunteered so Tom moved closer, used both hands to
grab our cocks and then just squeezed and released, squeezed and
released, with only a slight stroke.  With all our foreplay, that's all
it took and Brad and I both shot a wad of cum over each other
while Steve watched and smiled.

All four of us rinsed off in the lake and sat around the fire
watching it quietly die out, before finally stretching out for a
night's sleep -- without a tent but under the starry night sky.
Steve broke the silence.  "You were right, Tom, it was one of the
greatest sexual sensations I've ever had.  How can I ever thank
you?"  Before Tom could answer, I suggested, "You could jerk
him off.  He's the only one of us that didn't get relief from the last
round of play."

So Steve began working on Tom, hesitantly at first but then more
confidently copying many of the same moves Tom had used.  Not
nearly as expertly but Tom's cock showed that he was responding.
Brad and I just watched this time; neither of us had the energy to
do more than enjoy the show.

Steve surprised us all when he said to Tom, "I usually eat my own
cum.  Would you mind if I ate yours?"

"Help yourself," Tom grinned.

I think we all expected Steve to finish masturbating Tom and then
eat the cum that spattered on his stomach and chest.  But when
Tom was just about to cum, Steve bent over and took the tip of
Tom's cock into his mouth so that he received the full load of
cum.  Some dribbled down his cheek and chin onto Tom's still
throbbing cock.  After swallowing, Steve said to Tom, "That was
a bit of a homo thing to do.  But I thought you'd like it."  Tom just
smiled but that said it all.  As we all lay back down again, Steve
said, "Thanks, guys, for the lessons.  And for making me a better
man."

Steve didn't join our group again but occasionally gave us some
of the best of his photography work (that now included guys, guys
with guys, and lots of girls alone or with guys).  Once, he even
invited me to pose with one of his girls.  That's another story.

=======================

AUTHOR'S NOTE

That's the story of my summer of joy.  While I was editing it
before sending it off for posting on the Internet, however,
something else happened that needs to be added to the story.

=======================

Summer drew to a close.  I cherished the memories of our
camping trips, especially when it was just Brad and I.  We had
lots of sex when we were together but we also had long periods of
simply cuddling in the nude, which was, in its own way, just as
satisfying.  My affection for Brad had become an obsession and
the only part of my life when I was genuinely happy.  He rescued
me from a boring, lonely existence.  He showed me the utter joy
of sexual union.  Most importantly, he offered companionship.  I
was ready to devote my life to being with him.  I told him once
that I loved him but he shrugged it off, saying, "I like you a lot,
too, Brian.  I like being with you.  But we're still teenagers.  What
do we know about real love?"

I started to explain how I felt about him and why I knew it was
love but he interrupted me and said, "Let's just be happy we're
together.  And can stay together."

School started.  The weather was turning colder, eliminating the
camping weekends.  I would phone Brad or catch him at school to
talk.  I tried to arrange some way to meet with him, not
necessarily for sex but just to be with him.  He always told me he
couldn't.  He was busy.  He had other plans.  He said he was sorry
and that he wanted to see me because I was special to him.  For a
while, I believed he was as disappointed as I was that we couldn't
spend time with each other.

Then, in late November, my hopes were demolished.

I called Brad on the phone to tell him how much I missed him and
pleaded with him to arrange some way of spending time with him.
His response was devastating.

"I miss you, too, Brian.  And I'd like to get together.  For old
times' sake.  But that's the point.  We had a great summer.  But
that's behind us.  It's time to move on.  Let's just be happy that
we had some good times together.  And face the fact that we can't
continue.  I'm grateful that you and I had some terrific times
together at the lake.  The past was wonderful but we've got to
start looking forward to the future."

"But you said..."

He cut me off.  "I said a lot of things.  I meant them at the time.
But times change.  We change."

"But, Brad, I thought..."

He cut me off again.  "To put it bluntly, Brian, we can still be
friends but the sexcapades are over.  We have to think of the
present.  My parents are as homophobic as yours.  That means
that if we have any more sex we will have to continue lying to
them.  And God forbid if they ever catch us.  We also have to
think of the future.  For instance. I will be 18 soon.  That will
make me legally an adult.  You'll be 16, legally a minor.  Do you
have any idea what they do to adults having sex with a minor?  It
isn't pretty!"

"They'll never know!" I protested.

"Gotta go now." He said curtly and hung up.

I sat at my desk in my bedroom in total shock.  When the
enormity of his brush off set in, I collapsed on my bed and
sobbed.  The boy I loved had cast me aside like a toy he had
grown out of.

I came to a conclusion.  Brad had used me.  His comments about
my being special to him were nothing more than a deception.  He
had manipulated me for his sexual pleasure.  Profound sorrow
over losing what had been so precious to me was replaced with
hatred.  I hated Brad for being so deceitful and selfish.  I hated
myself for being so gullible.  I fell into a severe depression.  I
couldn't concentrate at school.  At home I escaped my parents'
constant fussing over my sour mood and isolation by retreating to
my bedroom where I cried a lot.  It was difficult to sleep and I
was miserable when I was awake.

I went to the top shelf of my closet to retrieve Steve's
photographs of our camping trip.  By destroying them, perhaps, I
could finally free myself from my past, foolish infatuation.  I
opened the manila envelope for one final look at what had been a
joyful time.  I spread them out on my desk.  They didn't make me
horny.  They only deepened my sorrow.

The phone rang.  Thinking no one was home, I walked over to my
beside table and picked up the extension phone.  It was for Dad
and I wrote down the message.  Before I could return to my desk,
my Dad walked into my bedroom.  I was shocked to see that he
was in the house.  "Who was on the phone?" he asked.

"Glen Tipton," I stammered, handing him the note paper with the
message.  I made the mistake of glancing quickly and guiltily at
the photographs lying on my desk.  My heart was pounding and
I'm sure my face was flushed.

"School project?" he asked as he walked over to my desk.  "Mind
if I take a look?"

There was no way I could salvage the situation.  He was between
me and the desk.  All I could do was wait for the inevitable
punishment.

"What in the name of...!" he yelled as he saw the prints.  "THIS
IS YOU!" he screamed at me.

For the next thirty minutes, he assaulted me with a tirade.  He
called me a liar and a cheat, a sinner, a disappointment for
betraying my upbringing, a depraved pervert, a fag, and more.
While he was angrily berating me, I lay on my bed and sobbed.

The next week was pure hell.  I was consumed by self-pity and
self-hatred.  I didn't even go to school.  Mom often cried when
she saw me.  It hurt me to know that she was hurt by my
behavior.  Dad periodically insisted that I get professional help to
"cure" me.  I refused to see a shrink.  Once I tried to tell him that
homosexuality is not a disease but that only started an argument
that devolved into his calling me stupid and a perverted sinner.

=====================

AUTHOR'S NOTE

I've written the last part of the story as a warning to others,
especially young teens.  Don't let your hormones drown your
reason.  By all means, seek and find a meaningful relationship.
But don't let yourself be a captive of temporary sexual
gratification.  Don't let it distort your thinking.  Don't confuse sex
with true respect, commitment, and love.  Remain alert to the
warning signs that I failed to recognize -- a dominant need (in
yourself and in others) for sex, the reluctance of your friend to
speak of love and your future together, the absence of jealousy
when a monogamous relationship is threatened, and the avoidance
of private time together when there's no sex but there's joy in
simply being together.

Am I saying you must be totally celibate?  No.  Experiment if you
like -- judiciously and discretely -- but never, NEVER, confuse
sex with love.  Sex can be fun (and dangerous if you don't protect
yourself from STDs) but it is the emotional bonding we call love
that should be your ultimate goal.  Especially if you're a young
teen, expect to wait until you find a partner who is willing to
commit his life to you in a meaningful relationship where sex is
an expression of love and not merely the gratification of primal
urges.


The End