(No warnings: you know why you're here. No copyright notices: this story is purely public domain, and may be reproduced anyplace you like -- just don't claim you wrote it yourself, or try to profit from it. First, of course, it was here. Also, if you're reading in this section, you know that not too many sites on the internet are willing to accommodate guys like us. Please donate at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html .)

Back in the 1950s

Part 1

I had my first wet dream back in the 1950s, a dream in which I was chasing fat-girl Phyllis and trying to grab her flabby titties. It was not much, as wet dreams go, I suppose, but it was enough to notify me that I was old enough jerk off -- to beat the meat. I woke up entirely pleased with myself.

I was a little bit shy of thirteen, and the only reason I even had heard of wet dreams back then was my Senior Patrol Leader Richie. Richie was almost fifteen, the Scoutmaster's son, and seemed to know so much more than the rest of us. Actually, none of us knew much of anything back then, when the guy who owned the store where I bought my nickel candy bars and dime comic books kept the copies of "Playboy" under the counter.

So I woke up thinking of fat Phyllis, which didn't do much for me while I was awake. I tried thinking of Cynthia, the only girl in my class who actually had real tits. Somehow, though, I wound up thinking of Jeffy. He just had moved up from Cub Scouts, and had been assigned to my Patrol. Yes, I was a Patrol Leader.

It couldn't have been more than two weeks later that I sprouted a neat little bush of pubic hair at the base of my cock, and I made sure everybody got to see it when the Troop went swimming at the Y. Back in those days, a lot of YMCA pools made the boys swim naked in all-boy swim sessions, but I guess our Y director wasn't a perv, so I had to do my strutting around in the locker room. It was okay, though. I got plenty of admiration.

I still was interested in girls back then. Some of the kids in my class had older brothers and sisters, so we imitated them by having "make-out" parties, where I spent a lot of time unhooking Linda's training bra and feeling up her little buds. Kids just didn't mature as fast in those days.

Not much happened, though, until the Troop went to Scout Camp that summer. Richie's father, our Scoutmaster, was kind of a drunk, so we didn't get much supervision -- except from Richie. He liked to do what he called "dick inspection," where he rubbed your dick until it was hard and then measured it with a ruler. That's why I can tell you that my hard dick was about four and a half inches -- not from the bottom, but from the top. It was at least as big as Richie's, only his always got measured bigger. Well, the guy who holds the ruler, you know.

That summer, at camp, there was another kid named Larry who liked to go around the cabin and kiss everybody good night. He grew up totally gay, of course, but everybody still wanted a good night kiss. They were very different times, back then. Then, after lights out, Jeffy would crawl into my bunk. He was fascinated by my much larger dick, and liked to make it hard and play with it. It usually ended with me pulling his underpants down and rubbing my boner between his ass cheeks until I came. Most of his tighty whities must have been pretty crusty when the two weeks of camp ended and we went home.

It changed a few nights before the end, though. I guess he wanted a good, close-up look at me, because he brought his flashlight along and crawled down under the covers. I could feel his warm breath on the end of my stiffie, along with his little hand rubbing it up and down. Then I felt something different.

"I licked it," he half whispered and half giggled. "You're not mad, are you?"

"No," I whispered back, "it felt good. Do it some more."

He did it some more, and less than a minute later he had my cockhead in his mouth and was running his tongue all around it. I don't have to tell you, it was so much better than jerking off, and I didn't even know I was getting a blowjob, and he didn't know he was giving me one. Richie had told us a blowjob was when a girl put your cock in her mouth and blew on it.

I guess he tasted my precum, because he pulled his head back just in time to catch my wad across his face instead of in his mouth. He still had his flashlight on, so when I peeked under the covers I could see it dripping off his nose and into my pubes. He was a curly-haired kid with a little upturned nose and very pink lips, and I thought he looked totally cute with my cum on his face, but I cleaned him up with the socks I'd worn that day and had dumped next to the bunk.

"Don't tell," he said.

"I won't," I promised, "not even Richie." But I did, of course, and Richie got Freddy to do it to him, and before we left camp a few days later our Troop was blowjob central. Me, I never wanted to suck any of the older guys -- the ones who had pubes. Mostly I just did Jeffy and Lenny and Mark, who were the youngest, and couldn't squirt yet. It wasn't just that I didn't want to eat cum, but they just smelled nicer to me than the older kids.

Back home, we had a problem -- we had to find places to continue our cocksucking. After all, we couldn't do it in the school gym where we had our Troop meetings -- but I'll tell you about that when the story continues.

(Comments and criticisms to heedon@tormail.org will be appreciated.)