So the next morning I get up really nervous and really excited. I mean after all, George and I had done something that I never thought possible less than twenty-four hours before. My best friend in the whole world and out of the blue (at least to me) we ended up feeling each other up. To top it off I gave him his first hand job. Ever. But as they say, that's old news. Now the next morning is the new story.

It was about 8:45 and I had all but given up hope of hearing George's dad's brakes in the driveway. But, this time it was different. They didn't just roll to a stop and take off again, but instead stopped altogether. I couldn't decide if I should dare to peep out of the window or not. Really, I didn't want to be caught standing in the front window in my tighty-whiteys if George was about to burst through our carport door at any moment. So I waited. Shit. What should I have done. I hopped out of the recliner so quickly that I almost tipped the damned thing over when it rocked forward. I ran to the blinds and cracked one open just a hair. As my ego deflated I watched George walk into his house without ever turning and looking at my house. I stood vigil at that window for almost half an hour waiting to see if he was going to come back out. I gave up, and as I turned I could here his old wooden door creak open. Here I was again only moments later, staring out the slightest crack in the blinds that you could imagine. Shit again! He was fully dressed in shorts, t-shirt, tennie shoes and was once again heading to his dad's old truck. I gave up watching as I heard the old truck start to life and then shift into gears. Apparently if anything else was going to happen, well lets just say that that wasn't going to be the day.

So the next day, after having my hopes deflated the day before, I decided to hell with it, I just didn't care. So when 8:30 and 8:45 came and went and there was no sound of those old familiar brakes and still no word out of George, I just knew that the friendship was over. In my young mind, he had already outed me to all of his friends and was actively seeking a new best friend. My what drama we could put ourselves through at such a very young age. Well, about five minutes to nine the carport door opens and there in all his glory, meaning he was shirtless and wearing damp shorts, stood George with a brown paper bag. Nonchalantly, I look at him and say "what are you doing here?" to which he replies "I come over here every morning dumb ass" and heads into the kitchen. He comes back to the living room to the edge of the recliner with a roll of paper towels, the brown bag he came in with and nothing on but that black pair of Speedos. "So what the hell is in the brown bag numb-nuts? And why do you have our entire roll of paper towels?!" He said, "my sister took me to swim practice this morning and thought that you and I would like McDonalds. She got you those cinnamon biscuits that you always get." Then he tucks the paper towel roll under his bare armpit; with his now free hand he pulls back the blanket over my lap and plops down beside me in the recliner.

Here we are once again watching Today's Special featuring two puppets named Muffy the mouse and Sam the security guard while sitting shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip, bare leg to bare leg in my dad's favorite recliner. We sat in silence and ate our McDonalds. Now George ate his like someone was going to take it away from him or something. Myself on the other hand was kind of full already because I had eaten my usual bowl of cereal by this time. When we were both finished, he jumped up out of the chair and took our trash to the kitchen. And, like a homing pigeon he came right back to that old recliner slipping back in to where he had slipped out. This time he pushes back on the chair so that we can recline while watching the show. He also turns onto his side so that his front is now pressing into my left side. I'm just about to say something when he reaches up, pulls my left arm up so that it drapes around his shoulder and then places his head on my shoulder. I'm in heaven. He is acting like nothing has happened and now he is snuggling into my side. Since I had a height advantage over him, almost a foot at that time, he fit perfectly under my left arm and his head fell right onto my shoulder. Should I even mention the fact that once again I got stuck sitting there with a super hard boner. I was at that critical age when just the slightest breeze could set me at attention. It was to the point that I thought my dick was going to break off if it didn't get any release.

We watched the rest of that show in this position. Him snuggled into my arm and me in pure heaven. Just like earlier in the week, there was all of a sudden this pressure on my leg. If it was possible for my erection to get any harder at this point, I didn't see how. Now my mind was going into overdrive. From our positions, I just knew that he wanted to do something. I just wasn't quite sure if he was going to make the first move again or if I should be brave and do it. The wait wasn't very long. His left hand came up and rested on my t-shirt covered stomach.

Then he did something that I really never would have expected. He started to grind his hips into my thigh and at that moment everything became clear. Unlike earlier in the week, that was not his hand resting on my leg but instead was his erection pushing through his black Speedos. He then takes his left leg, throws it over my left leg while he softly grinds into my thigh and finally reaches down to fondle my erection. I nearly lost it at this point. I was ready to cream my tighty-whiteys when he started grinding into my thigh but the fondling was sending me over the edge. Since my left arm was already draped over his shoulder and partially down his back I started to lightly stroke his back. Soon we were matching each other stroke for stroke and each time I went down his back he would rub down the length of my cock through my briefs. This went on for several minutes and soon his hand was searching under the blanket for my other hand. Once he located it he pulled away from me long enough to shove my hand between my thigh and his grinding cock. This only lasted for a very few moments until he pulled back once again only this time to free his cock from its lycra prison. Now my hand was in direct contact with his hard cock once again. The flaring mushroom head immediately caught my attention, as did the shaft and balls. But what really caught my attention was the fact that he had almost no hair. In fact, other than about three or four hairs on his ball sac there were none to be felt by my roaming fingers. I should have realized that he was nearly hairless, after all it hadn't been too long ago that I had acquired hair in all of my happy areas. It just really surprised me how smooth that area was without the hair. How quickly we can forget something. I had only had hair for a matter of months but at that time it seemed like forever. Since he had placed my hand on his bare cock and I had not pulled away, he took this opportunity to free my hard dick from my tighty-whiteys and began to stroke it up and down.

And he stopped. He jerked his hand out and looked at it. "What's all this sticky stuff?!" I'm still in a daze so all I can muster up is a good "huh?!" George throws back the blanket and looks at my bare dick and then at his hand. "What's all this sticky stuff?! And, why is it coming out of your thing? . . . Are you peeing?!?!?! That's gross!!" I was horrified. I knew that I was a heavy leaker or pre-cummer have you but I had never had anyone but myself see it and I wasn't even sure how to explain it. The truth was that even though I knew all about cum at an earlier age, most everyone else I had been around either didn't have pre-cum or they had no idea what it was either. And I definitely wasn't going to ask my mom or dad! All I knew to tell him was that it was not pee and the "cum" I had told him about the other day was what would come later. As for this stuff, it always seemed to come before the cum. Well that went over like a lead balloon. I told him to trust me and so he kept playing with my dick instead. "I guess it's ok, it's just kind of slippery and sticky. . . and damn you have a lot of it . . . whatever it is!" My only reply was "thanks, I think." But the grin he gave me was all it took for me to know that everything was going to be ok.

So there we were laying side by side once again. He had taken some opportunity to lay over onto his back to allow me easier access to his goods while openly fondling mine. Also at some point we had both removed our bottoms and I had removed my shirt so that we were now laying naked as the day we were born on top of the blanket in my dad's recliner. He was a quick learner when it came to jacking off your friend. He whispered and told me that he had practiced at home the last few nights while laying in bed. He even told me that his sister had walked in on him in the bathroom idly fondling it and all she did was wink at him and tell him to not shoot his eye out. He told me that he didn't understand what she meant and I told him that I would be able to show him if he kept on playing with my dick. And with that he stopped. "What do you mean?" he asks me. "Well you have to keep jacking it off for me if you want to see," I said. His only reply, as usual was, "Oh."

He stroked me while I stroked him. When I would spend extra time on his fleshy mushroom head, he would spend extra time on my more polished head. When I would stroke his shaft, he would stroke my shaft. At one point I even took some of my pre-cum onto my fingers that were jacking his cock and slicked it up for him. "Ohhhhhh...that feels even better...is that what it feels like on yours?!" he asked me. "Yes, and the faster you go the better it feels, here I'll show you," I told him and immediately sped up my jacking motion. He mimicked this again. In no time I was getting really close to cumming and he was moving around a lot. I asked him if he thought that he was close and he said that he felt like he had to pee really badly so he thought that it must be the same thing. This only encouraged me more and so I began to pound his cock with all my might. Once he started to tremble and shake I realized it was over for him. He also practically stopped everything he was doing to mine and his adorable brown eyes seemed to glaze over. I removed his hand from my dick, replaced it with my own and whispered, "get ready, I'm about to cum." He leans up so that he can get a really good look and as I tense up and start to groan he pays really close attention to my dick. With a final grunt I shoot three ribbons of cum out of my dick. The first one hits my left cheek just below my eye, the second across my chest and the third lands just above my belly button. When I finally open my eyes and looked into his adorable face, I can't help but laugh. He just stares for a moment then exclaims, "that was so awesome! . . . now I know what my sister meant about shooting my eye out!!!" With that he runs into the kitchen and grabs up the roll of paper towels one more time. I reach out to take the roll from him and realize that he is standing there completely naked still so I reach out and playfully tweak the head of his semi-soft cock. While I get my cum cleaned up off of my body he pulls on his black Speedos and wanders over the TV and says "what kind of Nintendo game do you want to play?" And that was all for that day. Now as the weeks go by it began to get really interesting. Let's just say we learned to do a lot more than just fondle and jack off each other. But again, that's for the next time.

I would welcome feedback at gaygreenstang@yahoo.com.

Flames will be ignored. You know the drill. Thanks -- MJ.