Jack Edwards



Chuck and I were in the same grade at school and buddies with all the same guys, but we hadn’t been particularly close friends until we were in the scouts. When we were about eleven or twelve we decided to do a twenty-five mile bike hike for a merit badge, which you could do back then.

This was back before distance bicycling was so popular, and, though we’d ridden our bikes all over town, we had no idea what was involved in a twenty-five mile ride. We packed food and water for a day and left early in the morning.

I was more athletic, already in football, swimming, and baseball. He was a very slender guy, about my height. We started out, feeling like great adventures. We didn’t know anybody who’d ridden a bike twenty-five miles.

Our target was an intersection about thirteen miles out of town. When we made it there after only a couple of hours, we were amazed and a little disappointed. We ate our ‘lunch’ in an orchard about nine-thirty in the morning and decided to head on back toward town.

Our area of the state was agricultural, irrigated by a network of canals. We rode past orchards and trees. It was late September, and the day began to grow hot.

There was almost no traffic. As we rode, like boys that age always seem to get around to doing, we started talking about sex. We told each other everything we knew, which didn’t take long. One of our friends had found a “sex” novel and I related a scene to Chuck that our friend let me read.

By then, we were getting hot and worked up. We were coming up on a canal that crossed under the road and curved into a small patch of woods. Like most canals of any size, a dirt road followed alongside it.

“Wanna skinny dip?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Chuck answered without hesitation.

We left the paved road, following the canal back into the woods. We stopped, well out of sight of the road, along a short stretch of the canal that curved away again a couple hundred yards ahead, and we rolled our bikes down into the trees.

We laid the bikes down and turned away from each other to strip. I undressed completely, looking down at a rock-hard erection.

“I’ve never been skinny-dipping before,” I said back over my shoulder. “I’ve got a hard-on.”

“Me, too,” Chuck said as we turned to face each other.

I did a double take.

I’d never seen another boy’s erection before, and had only mine to compare with. I figured I was about average… and I was. What Chuck had was beautiful. It was at least a third longer than mine and thicker. It had a half-twist down the length so that his crown was almost ninety degrees from vertical. I’ve never seen another like it; I certainly hadn’t back then.

I was momentarily mesmerized.

Chuck left his t-shirt on, and I was a little disappointed. I figured he was a little shy about being skinny, but I thought he looked fine. I wanted to see all of him.

Looking both ways, we snuck out of the trees and up to the edge of the canal, our cocks wagging. We each put a foot in, but jerked back.

“It’s too cold,” Chuck complained.

“Yeah,” I agreed.

We stood up on the bank, both hard as rocks, and my eyes locked on Chuck’s big cock again. “We could do something else,” I suggested.

“Like what?”

As limited as my knowledge was, I knew there were things that boys did together. I’d even thought about what it would be like to do them. Only in my dreams had any other boy ever been interested in doing any of them with me.

“We could jack each other off,” I suggested, hopefully.

His eyes dropped to my boner and he nodded. “Okay.”

We padded back down into the trees, dicks wagging again, and turned to face each other. I closed my hand around his first; it was just so tempting. I got that shock every kid gets the first time he grabs another boy’s boner… the softness of the skin, the incredible hardness underneath, the heat, the amazing feel of skin sliding down shaft.

Chuck grabbed mine, and, much like I did, felt it up first.

We steadied ourselves by grabbing each other’s shoulder with a hand, and we stroked one another. We stepped closer; it felt good.

“We could try other things,” I suggested, knowing he’d say ‘no’ but trying anyway.

“Like what?” he asked.

“Have you heard about cornholing?” I asked, and then held my breath. I’d thought that cornholing sounded hot the first time I heard about it, but…

“No way I’m gonna do that,” he said.

“No,” I agreed, shaking my head as if I knew it was a stupid idea all along.

Looking back on it, and us not knowing about lube, I probably would have been put off cornholing for life if I’d tried to take that monster of Chuck’s up my butt.

I wasn’t sure I’d like cock sucking and decided to not suggest it. “How about humping?” I suggested.


“I lie down, and you lay down on me and we hump each other… sorta rub dicks together.”

His mouth twisted thoughtfully. “Okay.”

“Really?” I asked, and regretted asking because it gave him another opportunity to say ‘no’.


I didn’t ask again, but looked around and picked an area of dirt, grass, and leaves that looked soft enough. I sat down and lay back. I could see patches of blue sky through the leaves above. But then my eyes went to Chuck, who stood at my feet, stroking that big cock of his.

He dropped to his knees, one on either side of my legs, and sat down on them, stroking his dick and looking down at my body for a moment. Then he rose up on his knees, pulled his shirt up to his armpits, and fell forward onto one hand before lying down on me, holding his shirt up off his belly.

His eyes met mine and quickly darted away. Tentatively, he placed his cheek against mine, laying his hands on my shoulders. I wrapped my hands up behind his back.

Chuck’s skin was soft and smooth and warm. His skin felt good on my skin. His body felt good on my body. Slowly, he pumped his hips and I tried pumping mine back. The movements were awkward, but everything else felt incredible, even to the feel of his soft cheek on mine and his breath on the side of my neck.

I felt over his back, trying to act like I wasn’t feeling over his back. I pulled up my knees outside Chuck’s legs so I could plant my feet on the ground and hump back against Chuck better. When I did, and his legs fell between mine, suddenly our movements felt good.

We pumped faster. We breathed faster. Along with the smell of grass, elm, and canal water, I could smell Chuck’s breath. He smelled okay. I liked his smell. I liked what we were doing.

“Can I try on top?” I asked quietly.

“Yeah,” he said, and holding on to each other, we rolled so that Chuck was on his back and I was on top of him.

Chuck planted his feet on the ground like I had; his legs outside mine. My hands were under the backs of his shoulders and he slipped his up onto the backs of mine. We started up again.

“It feels different on top,” I murmured.

“Yeah,” Chuck agreed.

I liked top better. It was easier to pump my hips, and pumping my hips felt good.

We got going faster, and soon, I felt my orgasm building. I clutched the backs of his shoulders more tightly and pressed the side of my face harder to his. And then it hit, and my semen squirted out between our bellies.

I kept going, not knowing if Chuck had come yet. But soon, he slowed down, and we stopped. I pushed up on my hands and looked down between our stomachs. We were both pretty wet. I knelt up on my haunches.

“Did you come, too?” I asked.

Chuck propped up on his elbows, looking down at his wet tummy. “Yeah.”

I got up, brushing off my butt and back and the backs of my legs. Chuck got up, and, holding up his shirt, walked back up to the canal. There he knelt and splashed water up onto his belly to wash off the cum. I followed him up and did the same.

We stood and walked back down to our clothes and bicycles. He was ahead of me, and I saw that the back of his shirt had leaves on it. I brushed them off.

We dressed, not looking at each other. I didn’t look at him because I felt guilty about what we’d done. I assumed he did, too.

“I’m not going to do that anymore,” I said.

“Me either,” he agreed.

Of course, the feeling was temporary, at least for me. Later, I tried to get Chuck to do more stuff with me on a couple of occasions, when he and I were alone on campouts, but he wouldn’t do it.

Within just a couple of months, though, I found another scout, camping, who liked what we did. And yet, I was always a little disappointed that I couldn’t get Chuck to do stuff again. I liked doing stuff with him.


Once more, I've heard from a couple of interested readers, so I'll keep going. Be sure to let me know if you'd like more of the series. And let me know if you're enjoying it. Reader emails are the only pay we Nifty writers receive. :) My email address is jnuanced@gmail.com.