Date: Wed, 25 Dec 2013 01:21:43 -0800 (PST) From: Jessie W Subject: Lake Mead 2 Hey guys, thanks for the great feedback, much appreciated! Like I said before,I'm hoping what I lack in writing skills I make up for in a pretty hot and very true story. Also, this contains sexual shit between teens, if you don't like it then why are you reading this? And I did some sorta molesty shit. But that doesn't mean you should. Finally, feedback is awesome?and gets me horny as hell! Feel free to write: wrestlinjessie@yahoo.com The more the situation sunk in, the hornier I was getting. My cock, already at full mast, was pulsing. The soft snoring in the car, the slowly fogging windows, and the musky smell of boys and beer?it all felt so dirty. And, against my hand, pressed Chris' hard cock. I could feel the pressure against my palm, and the heat radiating from it, but I wanted to know more. In the soft light of a nearby parking lot streetlight, I could just make out Chris' face. His smooth skin and sharp jaw. His head lolled to the side and his eyes shut tight. He was out cold. Recognizing what a once in a lifetime chance this could be, I decided that I couldn't let this moment pass me by. Though the horror of getting caught hovered in the back of my mind, alcohol gave me the courage I needed. I recognized "100% passed out" from quite a few parties before and so I made my move. First I rolled to my side, a better angle to see him. Then, I slowly pulled the blanket down. Kiran had rolled to face the other window and the blanket was pinned beneath him, but it slipped to Chris and my knees easily. I slowly pulled my hand back, allowing his cock to rise up, raising his mesh shorts into a teepee. His dick seemed to stick straight up. I guessed a solid 7 inches, something close to mine. Thinking of mine, I became more aware of how uncomfortable my rod was, pressed roughly against the fabric of my jeans. I reached down slowly and unzipped my fly. It was a ballys move I know, but it seemed to be the only good option. My dick, relieved from the confines of my too-tight jeans, flew out and smacked my stomach loudly. I froze as the sound reverberated around the car. In front of me, Josh let out a little exhale, but then seemed to settle back into his breathing pattern. Chris, on the other hand, didn't move a muscle. A good sign. The tenting of his shorts still very visible in the diffused glow, and my confidence in his blackout state even more secure, I decided that I wanted to see this fucking thing! I reached over and, with great care, pulled his waistband up and over his rod, hooking it firmly under his sack. I withdrew my hand and couldn't help a smile crossing my face. It was a fantastic specimen of teenage cock. From a well-kept bush shot a thick, veiny, and surprisingly dark cock. It pointed straight up, the mushroom head flared and a deep purple. Below it, a pair of sturdy and surprisingly smooth balls. The tip glinted slightly. I guess after a day in the car, hot and crowded, his teen cock could easily mistake a bit of silence and fresh air as the "alone time" it seemed to so desperately need. This awesome cock, the first real-life, hard cock I had seen in my life other than my own, drew me like a moth to flame. I had to touch it. Chris certainly didn't know it, but for a closeted kid like me, riding next to a hunk like him the last eight hours had turned me on like nobody's business. His muscular calves rubbing against mine?a peek at his defined pec and small, dark nipple as he reached forward to grab a beer?his biceps flexing as mimed fucking his ex?it had all led to this moment. To him riling me up to the point where I honestly couldn't imagine NOT grabbing that cock. In fact, if this was anyone's fault, it was his own. Wo with that thought planted firmly in my mind, I reached down and wrapped my hand around his rod. It was awesome. Like holding my own cock, yet not at all. Hot, smooth, rock-hard, pulsing?it was everything I had ever hoped. Following habit, I began to rub my hand up and down. To the base of his shaft, where it met his lean pubic muscle and wiry pubic hair, to the tip of his dickhead, where more precum had already begin to glisten. I was in heaven, but my own cock was left untended. I stroked it for a moment, but then caught sight of his left hand. Large, masculine, flat fingers with squared ends - a hand that seemed designed for squeezing the tits of slutty, drunk cheerleaders. I looked up at his face, not slowing the slow stroking of his cock, and saw that behind the handsome features, nobody was home. So, my bravery growing with every minute, I grabbed his hand and wrapped it around my dick. I felt a tingle of electricity shoot through my body - he was holding my cock! And, wrapping my hand around his and moving it up and down - he was jacking me off! It couldn't have been better. Sure, it was a violation, and granted, Chris would have probably beaten me to death had he woken up, but somehow that didn't matter. All that mattered was his hard, throbbing dick in my hand, and his big, rough hand wrapped around mine. Each working the other at a matching speed. Two buds jerking each other off - except one was far away in dreamland, and the other had just crossed the boundary into certified pervert. I could have gone on like this forever, but his dick jumped. Twitched strongly against my hand. I didn't stop, but I began to wonder. Could I actually make him cum? This hot, tight-bodied, straight as an arrow high school jock - could a closeted homo like me actually make him jizz? I'd had wet dreams, sure - woken up to a morning of crusty sheet and pubes stuck together - but this seemed a different ballgame altogether. Still, I wanted the answer. So, despite what I knew was probably in the face of my best interests, I kept going. I couldn't say for quite how long I jerked Chris in the backseat of my cousin's car. I would stop his hand on my dick whenever I felt too close, but kept jerking him. It was hard to tell how he was feeling though; he was still totally silent, head still hanging loosely to the side. It could easily be a totally pointless quest. But that's when I felt it, his cock jerked. Hard. And I looked down just in time to catch a long pearly rope shoot from the tip of his dick, hang for a moment in midair, and then come splattering back onto my hand. Jerk?jerk?jerk. His cock flexed five more times total, each one issuing forth more and moth of the thick, creamy liquid. I stared in complete amazement as the shots lessened and turned to a slow dribble. We sat in silence for a second, his dick still throbbing, me looking on in total awe. I had made my first guy (other than myself, of course) cum! Luckily, almost all of his jizz had landed on my hand and fingers. I used my thumb to wipe the tip, then withdrew my hand slowly. I let the elastic of his shorts slip back up over his balls and cock. Whatever remained in the morning could easily be chalked up to precum from a hot dream. But my own dick was pulsing with desire. I squeezed Chris' hand tighter around my cock and began moving it as fast as I dared. I realized that he would be in a fragile state, having just cum, but I was far too horny to think straight. As he unknowingly stroked my dick, I brought my hand up to my mouth and tentatively stuck out my tongue. I'd never tasted any cum besides my own, but I just had to know. The warm jizz hit my tongue like electricity. The same bleachy base as my own but there was a tang to it, a certain musk that was new, slightly exotic. Something about tasting, eating this straight, soccer-jock's cum mad it all finally real. I tightened my grip on his hand so his thick calloused fingers rubbed me harder, and I knew I had moments till I exploded. My tongue, almost with a life of its own, began licking my hand forcefully - fingers, palm, wrist - anywhere Chris' cum may have landed. My mouth full of his cum, the scent of his cock filling my nose, and his hand wrapped roughly around my cock - I came. My whole body flexed, and it took every ounce of control to keep myself quiet. I wanted to moan, to thrust wildly into his hand, to gasp for air. But I did none of these things. Instead, I gritted my teeth, closed my eyes, and thrust backwards, so my cum shot directly into his palm - trying my best to avoid messy, unpredictable jets. Shot after shot hit his hand, and with my eyes closed, I felt the last of his thick, warm cum slither down my throat. It was a few moments before I could open my eyes. When I did, I was seeing stars. Bright flashes of light, those that told me I had REALLY cum. Once they cleared, I looked down to examine the evidence. My boxers and pubes were matted in jizz, but I seemed to have avoided any shots beyond the area. I brought Chris's hand to my face. In the center, a viscous stigmata of cum glinted on his wide palm. Still in my post-orgasm daze, I brought it up to my face and began to lick. His skin felt rough against my tongue, and my cum felt strangely nice in my mouth. A nice aperitif to the full meal that Chris' jizz had provided. I closed my eyes to savor the moment. Admired my bravery and basked in the sexual satisfaction. Conquering a genuine straight boy and living to tell the tale. My eyes drifted slowly open. And then I saw it - two bright blue eyes staring back at me. Perfectly framed between Chris' index and middle finger was the rearview mirror. And in it, Josh's eyes, watching me. I slowly lowered Chris' hand back to his lap. Josh's eyes continued to stare, betraying nothing. I looked away, slowly zipping up my shorts and pulling the blanket back over me. Questions flashed through my mind: How much did he see? Did he know what was going on? What if he hurts me? Or what if he tells them? Why isn't he waking them up? When I finally found the courage to, I glanced back up at the mirror. Only Josh had turned. I could see him in profile, eyes closed, back to sleep it seemed. I lay there, in the snoring and musk and foggy windows, wondering just what had happened. The tail end of the beer and the adrenaline finally catching up to me, I drifted off into an uneasy sleep. Who knew what the morning would hold.