Date: Thu, 03 Jan 2019 19:51:10 +0000
From: gsohy4+b63xu6h8mzlfs@guerrillamail.com
Subject: Robin's Adventures ? Part 1 <gay|YF>

"Do you trust me, Robin?" Whispering to me, his nose traced the outline of
my ear. His long hair draped across my closed eyes, while his hand lightly
touched my left nipple. With my heart hammering my 13-year-old cock like a
like a tuning fork, I could barely breath, barely talk, and only nodded
"yes," while I was in shock I'd gotten here with my 8th-grade crush.

His name Jason, and he was one of the cutest guys in junior high. Or maybe
he was the cutest I'd noticed since I started looking a lot at other
boys. Now, it was the 70s, and homosexuality was definitely not out in the
open in Southern California beach towns. So when I started paying attention
to all the beauty filling the showers after P.E., I tried everything to
convince myself it was just a weird phase, my quickly hidden boners
notwithstanding.

The year before, my family had moved back after 10 years in Switzerland,
and I was having a tough enough time adjusting to Americanisms in general,
and beach town localism in particular. I'd taken up surfing with a passion,
as we'd spend a couple of weeks every summer in Santa Barbara. But working
my way into the San Diego scene meant early dawn patrol, before the older
teenagers and adults kicked out the "rats," when the sun was up.

On top of the culture clash, I come from a family of late-bloomers, and I
looked at least 2 years younger than my age group. And I don't know what it
is about smaller kids, but we're the ones ending up with our trousers up a
flag pole (you have to wonder about the macho posturing of guys who are
eager to yank clothes off defenseless boys). It goes without saying that in
the first week of 7th grade, the little Swiss American kid ended up running
to the boys' locker room in just his shoes and socks, hands covering his
small, hairless boyhood, to the humiliating laughter of girls on the nearby
soccer field. Of course, I endured nicknames like "Swiss Miss," as
well. Just focusing on classes and ignoring the whispered jokes left me
pretty much hiding in the shadows that first year.

Settling in by 8th grade, I was starting to make friends. And then at lunch
one day, I noticed him. Ignoring the objectively attractive group of girls
across the courtyard, I was riveted by the boy at the center of their
attention. He was a little taller than me - about 5' 2", with long, mousey
brown hair almost to his shoulders, and a slender but athletic build. I had
to meet him.

I can't remember how I diid it. How do we contrive to meet anyone? Somehow,
he and I got along really well that semester, and started hanging out
occasionally after school. And after a while, though not knowing why, I
realized I really wanted to see him naked. Arranging a class schedule
change, I got transferred into his P.E. class. Infuriatingly, I was never
in the shower at the same time. So, once or twice, I raced around to his
section of the lockers to catch Jason while dressing, only to find him
pulling his pants up over the firm buns filling his Fruit of the Loom. My
God, it was like staring at two grapefruit shrink-wrapped in
gossamer. Jason only seemed to smile as my eyes quickly shifted from that
scrumptious rump to his grey-green eyes, an awkward, "hey, just wanted to
catch you before class" piece of improv bullshit tumbling out of my mouth.

A couple of times a week, we'd meet up at the rec center, where he was in a
tennis league. He was a really good competitor, and I was terrible, so we
never played. I just watched the matches, staring at that lithe form
running across the court, his muscular legs pumping that wondrous ass. I
didn't know why I was so captivated with those tight shorts, barely
restraining the visible ridge of a hypnotic panty line. I couldn't help it,
and was thankful I could submerge everything into shooting some hoops with
Jason afterward, before we each went our ways home.

We started hanging out on Saturday afternoons. I'd surf at the less
"locals-only" beaches in the morning, while he was at tennis
practice. After showering at home, I'd bike to the rec center, where Jason
and I'd shoot hoops and talk shit. No wonder he was so popular with the
girls - not only was he hot, but he was funny and nice. Not SoCal
fake-nice, but genuinely warm. Even so, I couldn't believe this hunk would
hang out with a nobody like me, and I suspected his honesty when, out of
the blue, he said, "Robin, you've got great shoulders from all that
paddling, and the girls all think you're pretty hot."

And I was like, "What? That's bullshit. They're always making fun of me."

"They're teasing you because that's what girls do. Be mean to you so you
pay attention."

"Is that what all your girlfriends do, Jase?" Suddenly I realized I was
jealous. He must have girlfriends. And why did that matter?

He started laughing, and said, "No, man. They're idiots. There's more to
life than girls."

I just stared at him, and he laughed again and said, "Robin, lets go to my
place and get something to eat."

Happy to end this weird conversation, I was stoked to grab my bike and ride
with him up the hill to his family's house. As he opened the door, he
looked at me for a second and said, "It's so great when when nobody's home
and you have the place to yourself," then motioned me in. He turned on the
TV to a baseball game, and as I sat on the couch, he brought out some chips
and cokes from the kitchen. We were joking around until the game ended, and
I went to the bathroom to pee. When I came out, arms wrapped around me and
I was tackled to the living room floor. Laughing hysterically, we both
rolled around wrestling furiously. Arms and legs tangling, our sweating
bodies writhing around like eels, I started to panic as my dick quickly
hardened like instant concrete. My prayers that Jason wouldn't notice went
unanswered, as I suddenly felt his hand tightly wrapped around the bulge in
my very short corduroy shorts.

"Hey! What are you doing?!" I squeaked.

"Oh, sorry." He murmured. "I was just joking."

I was so embarrassed. I'd gotten a boner with a guy. So I apologized, too.

"I don't know why that happens. I just get them all the time. I'm not a
homo. I swear."

Jason looked at me carefully for a second, and slowly said, "It's totally
normal, Robin. I get them, too. See?" And he pointed at a much larger bump
pushing out from his tennis shorts.

I must have been staring for a long time before I realized he was saying,
"Earth to Robin. Earth to Robin." And I looked up. I must have been
blushing, because he started laughing, and said, "You grew up mostly in
Europe. Aren't you supposed to know a lot about sex?"

And then I was truly mortified. Yes, Europeans largely have a more liberal
view of sex and sex education than Americans. But I'd attended a strict
Catholic school that taught us only the cursory mechanics, and I'd thought
the whole baby-making thing disgusting. Plus, my parents, who were medical
researchers, were usually more focused on work than actively parenting. So,
no, I didn't know anything practical, I admitted, and just looked away in
shame.

"Robin, don't worry about it. Just relax, and stop shaking." I didn't
realize I was.

"Jason, I'm such a dork." I was almost on the edge of tears, and I wanted
to run away.

"You're not. You're a super-hot dude, and I'm your friend. And I'm glad
you're here with me."  "Stop it, Jase. I'm not hot. I'm a little nerd lucky
enough to hang out with the best-looking, most popular guy in school."

Shaking his head, he said, "You really don't have a clue, do you? I love
being friends with you, and, you're the hottest guy in school." He shoved
me lightly in the shoulder and laughed. And I started laughing and shoved
him back. And pretty quickly, we were wrestling again, which wasn't helping
my boner go down at all. Thankfully, he sort of pinned me without my
hardness rubbing against him. But with his larger hands holding both of my
wrists above my head, his two legs twinned around my right thigh, I could
feel his hardness pressed against me. It was a weird wonderful new
dimension, and I was ready to do anything he said, when Jason gently told
me, "I want to be your best friend. And I want you to trust me."

"Do you trust me?"

I looked into those plump lips, and that pert nose, lightly dusted with
freckles, swallowed and nodded "yes." Closing my eyes, I felt his legs
unwrap around me. Confused, but eager, I easily complied when he said,
"Stay just like that."

I heard him get up, and heard the thumping of shoes and the rustling of
fabric before I sensed Jason standing astride my stomach. I was so nervous
I started shaking again. "Just relax, Robin," he said, as I felt him kneel
above my waist. I'm sure I was imagining it, but his body radiated heat
like a wood stove. I know I started sweating, as he whispered,
"sshhhhhh. Don't worry." And slowly pulled my shirt up over my head, and
off, while I shivered even harder.

His bare thighs engulfed my scrawny belly, as he slowly sat on my lap, and
there was no way to disguise my diamond-hard penis as it ground into that
dream rump, and I just thought this was the worst / best thing ever. But
Jason's sigh surprised me, and then he leaned forward, until his long hair
hung down into my face, and then I felt the tell-tale cloth of his briefs
on my torso, and a piece of cotton-clad iron pressing into my navel. And it
throbbed, like it wanted to burrow into me.

And that's when he nuzzled my face and asked again, "Do you trust me?"

That beautiful hair smelled like sweat and Herbal Essence shampoo, and it
dragged across my face like a thousand tiny feathers. And one of his
fingers was lightly touching my nipple, turning it hard as my penis. All of
my nerves were on fire and I just kept nodding and breathing a heavy, faint
"yes."

I felt Jason's nose lightly drag across my face, and around and around my
eyes, before he placed a slight kiss on of my eyelids. This was so weird, I
thought.

As if he were reading my mind, he said, "Robin. I really like you. I'll
show you something really cool." And I just nodded OK. He was in charge and
he was one of the most popular jocks at school, and so this must be
OK. Then I felt his lips gently press against mine. My brain went sideways
and I tried to recoil back against an ungiving floor. Sensing my
hesitation, he said, "Trust me." Trembling in this weird world, where we
might be doing "homo" things, I just whispered, "I do."

It was my first kiss. Jason's lips lightly pressed against mine once
again. I thought about romantic movie scenes and didn't pucker up, but just
let his mouth guide mine. With soft pressure, my lips were soon parted, and
his tongue flickered into me, gently coaxing my tongue into a dance that
was quickly natural. And as we kissed with greater and greater urgency, our
chests heaved and my legs stretched and ached. And Jason's cotton-sheathed
steel ground against my stomach, as his bottom brushed against my
achingly-hard penis. As we kissed more and more deeply, he rose slightly
and his hand brushed circles around my stomach. Wider and wider, the
circles reached until he found the snap to my OP shorts and popped them
open. Involuntarily, I moaned. This was so new, so raw, so unlike anything
I'd ever thought about. My dick was so hard I hated it.

His lips leaving my mouth and gently kissing around my face, Jason said,
"keep your eyes closed." I felt my zipper undone, and soon Jason was
standing, pulling my shorts off my legs. I was exposed, scared and
vulnerable. "Mmmm," he sighed. "I love your underpants."

I'd never really though much about the briefs my mom bought in Zurich. In
the locker room, I got some curious looks, and an occasional joke about my
"bun huggers" from cool kids who were starting to wear boxers. But then I
realized mine were smaller than American undies, emphasizing my hip-bones
and scrawny legs. I was wearing a blue pair, with a navy waist band with a
white stripe, tightly gripping a small torpedo that wanted to escape. I
shyly nodded and just said, "uh, thanks?"

"I'm just really glad you don't wear boxers," he said, as he pulled off my
shoes and socks. "A lot of you surfers wear them to be `mature.' They look
like shower curtains."

I didn't really care. I just wanted him to kiss me again. And again.

A moment later, Jason once again had his knees astride me, the
cloth-covered mounds of his muscular ass pressing down and around the
throbbing fingerling in my briefs.

"I tried them, once. You spend too much time stuffing them into your
pants. Then they ride up and everything gets all bunched," he whispered.

"Who cares?" I whispered back. "Just kiss me."

He giggled. "Well, if you don't want to talk about fashion," he breathed,
and leaned his lips into mine. His teeth gently took upper lip, and his
tongue flicked across it. Then he our mouths were both open, and our
tongues desperately grappling.

Now kissing the side of my face, then my ear lobe, Jason surprised me again
when his hand went to my right nipple, gently squeezing and pulling it. I
moaned as he switched to my other nipple, and delicately took my earlobe
between his teeth. I'd never known such intense feelings and I was glad I
was lying down, or I might have passed out.

His hips slightly rose and fell, like waves teasing a beach. Our breathing
synched and became faster, two souls expanding and contracting as one. I
desperately yearned to feel his flesh against mine, but my raging prick
raged against a cotton prison.

Jason's sighs became louder, and his butt rose, and I felt a forefinger
delicately gliding down the length of the cotton prison encasing my
achingly throbbing dick. I loudly groaned as his finger traced up one side,
then down the other.  Breaking from intensely teasing my quivering tube,
his fingers glided around the tiny plum-shaped sack retreating into my
body. So gently, but so urgently, he used just one finger to orbit round
first one of my balls, then the other. By now, I was panting like a dog,
and almost wailing from these new sensations. I didn't know what I wanted,
but i wanted something, anything to end the painful pleasure radiating from
my hard on, out through the rest of my body. Lightly griping my bone with a
thumb and two fingers, Jason touched his nose against mine and whispered,
"Do you want me to jerk you off?" I was so confused, but didn't care about
hiding it. Blood was roaring through my head and my groin as I confessed,
"I don't know what that is."

Sure, I'd heard the jokes. Even in my strict Swiss school, boys chuckled
about "einhandsegeln," as if we had any idea what we were talking
about. But I'd never been curious enough to find out. Now I was so out of
my depth I was embarrassed, and probably blushed - if I had the blood to
spare.

God bless him, Jason didn't laugh. He just whispered, "Relax. You'll love
this." Sitting back on my thighs, his fingers now firmly gripped my
cotton-sheathed sword, making me gasp. As Jason slowly rubbed up and down
it's length, the fingers of his other hand delicately held my unexposed
scrotum. That's when the lesson began. The slow stroke of a friend's hand
with vice-like tenderness. My moaning was now uncontrollable. Yes, I'd
humped my mattress out of instinct for a few seconds occasionally. But I
hated the pain, as it only made my dick harder, and I'd roll over onto my
back, until my boner went away. I'd never thought to do anything like this,
nor that anything could feel so good. As Jason's right hand torqued around
the elastic ridges of my briefs, pulling them with forceful passion against
my young and naive penis, his left rubbed down below, ranging from my
little boy bag, across that the magic space toward my crack, and tenderly
rubbing the base of my bottom before returning, in a languid, circular
motion. Like a sorcerer, he slowly conjured heat and magic from my dick and
balls and I was starting to see sparks in front of my eyes.

"Oh, Jason! That feels so good." I was no longer whispering. I was losing
control, and I didn't care.I knew I trusted him. Maybe I loved him? I knew
I loved his his hands, slow and deliberate, yet strong as they worked on
me. My 3-inch prong raging furiously to escape the confines of its straight
jacket seemed to want more heat and friction, and to feel
flesh-against-flesh. And my breathing grew deep and hard and fast.

"I knew you'd love it. But you're getting to close." Jason pulled his hands
away.

"Too close to what? Why'd you stop?!"

As I felt his chest against mine, another hardness was pressed against my
furious cock. He lightly kissed each of my eye lids and said, "You were
getting too close to coming."

Confused I blinked open my eyes and looked questioningly into his, as he
smiled down on me and lightly kissed my lips again before I could ask what
he meant. Somehow, he knew me, and explained, "you know in sex ed, when
they talk about sperm?" As I nodded, he said, "when it shoots out of you,
it feels really good, and that's called an `orgasm,' or `coming.'"

Well, that cleared up another mystery for me. How did you make sperm come
out of you? And also why anyone would want to put a dick into a vagina
never really occurred to me before. Probably something like this. Though I
knew I didn't want anyone but Jason making me feel this way.

"So, I just want to make this last longer," he said. With that, we started
kissing again, first gently, then more urgently. As one of his hands
brushed through my collar-length blonde hair, his other traced around the
contours of my inner arm, my chest, and my hip. Without thinking, one of my
hands rubbed circles around his shoulder blades, and up and down his spine,
while my other hand lightly squeezed one of his cotton-clad mounds below.

It was his turn to moan loudly, into my mouth. I knew what he wanted and
with my other hand, I rubbed his other cheek. As I massaged those muscular
globes, toughly stretching the thick material hiding them away, I saw his
eyes squeezing tight. And as our throbbing knobs slowly ground against one
another, finding their own rhythm, our hips rocked more and more
forcefully. Through pure instinct, I started pulling him into me. The way
we were starting to sweat, you'd think our two cocks had merged into one
steam engine, pulling Jason and me down a dangerous track into the
unknown. Well, unknown for me.

Moaning more loudly, Jason's forefinger hooked into my waistband, and and
explored back and forth between our bellies and my back, lightly tugging at
my undies. Following his lead, my fingers dived below into the tight
embrace of his Fruit of the Looms.

"Robin. That feels. So. Good!" he growled. And I used both of my hands to
explore all around those flexing orbs, from muscular indentation to crack
and back. And as he moaned more loudly, our dicks rubbed more urgently,
building heat upon heat with not only friction, but desire. Curiosity
pushed me further, and I I slid one of my forefingers into his moist crack,
down toward where I knew his boy hole lay hidden. And that was too much for
him.

"Stop, Robin! Please!" He slid back, sitting on my lap suddenly, pulling my
hands free.

"What did I do wrong?"

"Nothing, stupid. It just felt too good. I was about to come." I could see
his prick straining against a field of white cloth, pulsing toward the top
of his tight briefs, I could almost see the outlines of its head. But I
couldn't tell how big it was. Did he have pubic hair? So many mysteries
hidden by that teasing tent. At the same time, I sniffed the exploratory
finger, finding the familiar musk I knew from myself after exercising. I
looked up and saw him grinning and staring into my eyes. "You smell like
me," I said, and giggled.

Getting onto his knees on either side of my hips, he gripped my waistband
and said very deliberately, "I want to see your dick."

"And I need to see your's!"

"I know," Jason said, as he turned down toward my groin and slowly pulled
my tight, blue briefs downward, stopping as it caught on my prick's
head. Lifting the elastic away with one finger, he pulled them inexorably
past the tip, finally giving it the freedom it so desperately
craved. Suddenly, I started to get self-conscious. Would he think I looked
like a little kid? Would he laugh? It didn't matter because my briefs kept
going further, past my bald pubic bone, beyond the hairless, walnut-shaped
sack tightly hugging my perineum - what I would later learn was a "taint."

Leaving my briefs just beneath my scrotum, like a hammock under my
ever-tightening scrotum skin, Jason sighed. "Robin, it's beautiful."

I giggled. "You really think so? It's not very big."

"It's slender, and smooth, and still hairless. And so fucking hard! And
you're circumcised. I thought Europeans were all circumcised."

I'd never really thought much about my dick, but I was kind of glad I
didn't have any hair. That kind of scared me. But I was happy to point out,
"Now you're the dope. I'm American. I was born in L.A. My mom is German
Swiss, and when they did that routine surgery without asking her, she was
so pissed!"

At last, I could teach him about something - however tiny. Which is what I
thought my dick was. But if he liked it, I loved it. "Now it's your turn,
Jase."

"Not just yet," he sang back, and traced the length of my dick with his
finger. Finally, flesh against flesh. Licking his thumb and forefinger, he
lightly rubbed around the agonizingly hard head, and I heaved all the air
from my lungs. Licking his thumb some more, he made little circular motions
on the underside of my dick's head. Soon, his fingers fluttered again down
the length of my dick, then returned to the helmet, slightly pulling off
the head with three fingers, before stroking back down again. Oh, it was
the most exquisite torture as his fingers played downward and upward,
gently with a metronomic cadence. His other hand tickled my tight little
ballsack, lightly fingering first one tiny egg, the the other. Then his
whole hand engulfed my scrotum, delicately squeezing with the same rhythm
as he stroked with the other.

"Jase. I've never felt anything like this before." My breathing turned
heavier, and my moaning louder, and his three fingers gripped more tightly
around my cock. Stroking harder, he increased the pace, and my hips rose
and fell in time with the rhythmic friction boring down through my boyhood
and into my belly. Harder and harder my pelvis rose to meet his stroking
hand, with some intense urgency I couldn't understand.

Something was starting to happen. I felt a boiling motion in my center. I
thought it was my bladder. Not now, I thought. And it kept building and I
almost cried when I said "Jase, you're gonna have to stop. I have to pee!"

But he didn't stop. No longer staring at my suffering little joy stick, he
grinned at me and said, "You won't pee, Robin. Trust me. Let it happen." I
did trust him, though I desperately wanted to hold back the unknown tide as
his hand moved faster and harder, rubbing my little love wand. And then it
happened. A new explosion of muscles, churning to force out something other
than pee. As a wave of intense pleasure washed out from my groin, I
screamed "Uhhhhhhh!" and squeezed my eyes shut as stars exploded. Wave
after wave - another four quickly followed, as my dick convulsed, like it
was barking against the universe.

Jason stopped stroking, and delicately held my dick as it finished it's
throbbing, coughing up the last of its pleasures. I opened my eyes and
smiled in wonder into his beautiful face, and his liquid greenish eyes.

"That was amazing," we both said in unison, and laughed.

"So `that' was an orgasm," I said, "No wonder people have sex."

And we were laughing again, as he still lightly held my penis and balls.

"Yeah, you came. It was dry. You didn't shoot any sperm. But you definitely
came. Hard."

"I can't wait until I feel the real thing," I sighed.

"Don't be in a rush. It's usually around the time you get hair. And I hate
pubic hair. It's...kinda gross." He shrugged, released my still-hard dick,
and balls, and lay down on his side next to me. My energy spent, I gazed
from his beautiful eyes, down the length of my idol. His arms were lean and
muscular, and his torso tightly defined by years of rigorous tennis. There
was no baby fat obscuring his sharp hipbones. His abs lead to a waistband
wrapping his pubic muscles. And in that tight, white basket of goodies, his
penis strained up and out, clearly bigger than mine, with a spot of wetness
at the tip.

"I've been wanting to do that for so long," Jason admitted. "One day I saw
you, and I knew I wanted to be with you. You're just gorgeous."

"Um, dude, you're the one who's always surrounded by girls. You're the best
looking kid in school. And come to think of it, why aren't you doing things
with one of them?"

"Robin, I like chatting with chicks. But they don't do anything for
me. Besides, they're always talking about you."

"What? They're always making fun of me."

"That's how they do things. They pretend they don't care, or that they
don't like you, when they do. Anyway, I don't care about them. Because
we're friends - and I hope we're becoming best friends - I'll tell you a
secret. I like boys." Closing his eyes, it was his turn to blush as he
said, "I'm a homo. I hope you'll still be my friend."

So it was my turn to laugh, "What is it about Americans and gays. Geez, who
cares? And besides, I really like what we did, and I really, really like
you."

I turned on my side, just inches from the most beautiful boy I'd ever
known. As he opened his eyes and smiled deeply, I drew a finger around one
of his nipples, and it hardened. Lightly pinching it, he quickly sucked in
a breath, then exhaled as my hand gently wandered around his torso. My palm
brushed up and down those wonderful abs, he sighed, and ran his fingers
through my hair. Lower and lower I fumbled as I tried to tease him the way
he'd teased me. His lips met mine again, and we kissed lightly, then more
deeply. Our eyes both closed, as we sucked in the wonder of each others'
breath. At last, my exploring fingers, came to the waistband of his
undies. Back and forth I trailed along that blue and gold border, then my
fingers quested further.

Pulling back from Jason's lips, I turned my attention to the frontier of
his amazing body. My hand gently massaged the firm bulk of his slender
thighs pressing against that thick, white cotton. Then dragging my fingers
across the front, I wandered across a woven wonderland, lightly pressing
here and there. At last I reached that mysterious pipe, twitching in its
cloth casing. I was finally touching Jason's dick!

As my fingers lightly caressed the tip, Jason shuddered. As he had with me,
I traced my fingers along the length, up one side, then down the other. His
dick strained harder against its restraint, as I kept torturing it with a
light touch from head to base. Then, pressing my palm against his boyhood,
my finger tips gently circled his densely resistant ballsack. He sighed as
I tickled his jewels. They seemed much larger than mine. In fact his whole
package must have been huge.

"Lay back," I commanded. "It's my turn."

And he did, resting on his elbows so he could watch me kneel on either side
of his hips. My undies had returned to cover my still rock hard cock, so he
was now the focus of the show. Grasping his turgid member, I gently stroked
up and down the cotton clad missile. As his breathing deepened, and he
moaned more regularly, I rubbed his dick more forcefully.

"Oh, Robin. You make me feel so good!"

With my other hand, I gently kneaded his nut bag, which seemed to tighten
into a smaller plum. And while his breathing grew deeper, I rubbed harder,
bringing what I hoped was an unbearable friction to his big, steely
pleasure pole. The spot of moisture near the tip was growing, and I had to
ask, "Is that sperm?"

Shuddering, he nodded, and gasped, "It's called pre-cum. It's a lube a
penis makes out of semen." Then he added, "maybe you should stop for a
sec."

Smiling mischievously, I took my hand off his nuts and held it up to my ear
as if I couldn't hear, and kept on stroking that undie-wrapped
sausage. "Come on!" he begged. So I stopped and put both hands on his
stomach to knead those abs while he got his breath under control.

"I want to see your penis," I said, as I brought my hands to either side of
his briefs.

"I know. You've been trying to see it for weeks in the locker room."

I blushed. Busted. Well, I figured there was no use trying to deny it. "I
just think you are such a hunk, and I didn't know why I wanted to see it,
but I guess now I know." We both giggled.  Then, I started pulling down his
tight, white briefs down. But unlike Jason, I didn't want to waste time
playing around. I wanted them off. So pulled them down, over his dick,
toward his thighs. "Lift up," I urged, and he raised his hips so I could
pull his undies down his legs and off. And there he was. My hero. Almost
completely naked on the rug before me. His cock was much bigger than mine -
probably 5 inches long, and at least twice as thick, with a tight,
hairless, almost purple scrotum. As I knelt down beside him, I saw a few
brown hairs at the base of his prick, but that was all to the hair on his
body.

"It's huge!" I said.

He laughed, and said, "not really. It's kind of average. Your's will get
bigger, too."

A stream of clear fluid leaked from his slit. I drew my thumb and
forefinger threw it, and marveled out loud, "Pre-cum." I don't know why,
but I drew my fingers to my mouth and tasted. It didn't taste like much -
just a little salt. I kinda liked it. Jason smirked, but his eyes seemed to
plead for me to get back to work.

Pulling my fingers out of my mouth, I circled his helmet, using my spit and
his pre-cum to gently twirl round and round. My other hand took a hold of
his balls, in a bag so tight I could feel each one pressing agains my
palm. Slowly I kneaded them, as Jason moaned louder. With my other hand, I
surrounded his cock with a feathery touch and slowly, lightly stroked the
length of that straining love muscle.

I was in heaven. I couldn't believe I had Jason's penis in my hand. And I
knew how I was going to masturbate my friend - masturbate him slowly, the
way he had masturbated me. He was no longer propped on his elbows, but on
laying on his back, squirming in a way that told me he was loving it before
he moaned "Dammit Robin, this feels so good!"

I kept up the light friction as his prick drooled encouragement, and his
hips started thrusting toward my hand. "Please, Robin. I need. To. Come!"
And so I grabbed that angry monster with a firm grip. It felt like a
velvet-covered bone. And I stroked him hard and fast, while still cupping
and kneading those swollen sperm banks. Harder and harder my hand was like
a piston, and his hips hammered skyward. And he started to shake, as he
sucked in breath and almost shouted, "I'm going to come!"

He screamed my name, as his dick seemed to spasm, and his stomach was
clenched as tight as his eyes, and I saw a jet of clear fluid shoot out,
hitting him in the chest and face. Then another hit his stomach. Then two
more tiny blasts followed, hitting his pubic bone. Grabbing my had with one
of his, he slowed my stroking to delicately milk out what remained, then
stopped our motion altogether. Hand in hand, we gently held his dick, while
it slowly softened. Later, he explained that stroking it past a certain
point hurt.

As his breath slowed, Jason looked up and smiled. "I think you've got the
basic idea, here."

We both laughed, and I said, "Yeah, this is a skill I want to practice. A
lot."

Lying side-by-side, we stared at the ceiling, I asked him how he learned
about jerking off, and kissing. And had he done it with a lot of other
boys?

"I have a brother who's five years older than me. He's a freshman at UC
Santa Cruz this year. Anyway, when my family was on vacation a couple of
years ago, both of my brothers and I shared a room. My little brother got a
cot, while Neil and I shared a king-sized bed. One night, I woke up. The
bed was shaking slightly, and I didn't know why. Then I heard some regular
sounds coming from Neil's side of the bed. I looked over and saw his arm
working up and down. And I just whispered `what's going on?' At first he
jumped and pulled the sheet over himself, then he just kind of relaxed and
whispered back, `I'm choking the chicken. Sorry to wake you.' I had no idea
what he was talking about, so he offered to show me. He put his hand into
my underpants and jerked me off. Then he asked if I'd return the favor. We
both kept quiet so Kai wouldn't wake up. But he explained a lot that
night. When we got home, he showed me a few more things. He's not into
guys, and having sex with your little bro is weird. But we're close, and he
taught me things I wouldn't know otherwise."

"Wow. I wish I had an older brother. I have a younger brother - he's 8 -
and an older sister. She's in high school and makes fun of me a lot. But I
love her."

"Neil knows I like guys. So he got me a few magazines, and tried to find
information from gay guys at his university. They're more out in the open,
up there."

"That's so cool. And he must be a good kisser!"

Jason laughed and said, "No, we've never kissed - I mean, that kind of
way. I learned how to smooch by making out with Rachel Schwartz in 6th
grade, and Cindy Pitts and Laura Flanagan in 7th."

"No way! I thought you didn't like girls."

"Well, I wasn't sure. It was like a science experiment. But a lot more fun!
I liked kissing, but I'd close my eyes and think of boys."

"What other boys, Robin?" I asked provocatively.

Rolling his eyes, he confessed, " I didn't the first time. But in 7th: Cory
Widmer, Peter Olson, Bill Gluck, and, uh....you."

"What? I saw you for the first time this year!"

Blushing, he smiled and said, "You don't even remember sitting next to me
at the first assembly last year. You were wearing tight, gray jeans and a
Hang Ten shirt. And you looked really nervous, staring straight ahead."

My jaw dropped. I was blown away. I couldn't even remember my first week,
much less my first assembly. I just shook my head and said, "I'm so sorry,
Jason. I..I..."

He chuckled, turned on his side and wrapped his arms around me. I could
feel dabs of cooling liquid on his chest as he hugged me tight, and nuzzled
into the crook of my neck.  "You were so cute. Like a deer in headlights. I
was surprised you remembered how to breath. Dude, I've had such a crush on
you for a year now, and can't believe we're lying here together."

"Jase, I'm so lucky a guy like you would even -- "

"Sssshhhh," he said, putting a finger to my lips, then brushed it across my
skinny chest, until it reached my arm, then down to my hand, where he knit
his fingers though mine. "We're here now. And I really like being with
you."

"Jase, I love being with you. Actually, I love you."