Date: Tue, 7 Mar 2023 15:12:16 +0000 (UTC) From: "wantstrat63@yahoo.com" Subject: Messing Around Buddy Training - Chapter Eleven Messing-Around Buddy Training - Chapter Eleven Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction which features sexual activity between pre-teen boys and teenage boys. If you do not want to read such a story, or it is illegal for you to do so because of your age or where you live, I'd recommend that you bail out right here. I'd love to hear from readers and I'll try to write back. My name is Zane. If you want to get in touch, please email me at wantstrat63@yahoo.com If you are enjoying this series, I invite you to read my other fictional story in "Young Friends," called "Boy Arena." If you can, please support Nifty with a financial donation - whatever you can afford - so that this archive of stories can remain free and available. Just go to http://donate.nifty.org/ +++++++ "C'mon upstairs Jon, there's a pitcher of Kool Aid in the fridge!" It had been a hot walk home from school as it was early June and the afternoons were getting longer and heating up. My buddy Jon and I usually walked home together unless one of us had practice or something after school. My dad worked shift work and this was my mom's day at the hairdresser, so we would have the house to ourselves until around 5 o'clock. "What flavor?" Jon asked as I pulled the big plastic pitcher out of the fridge. I popped off the lid to peek inside. "Purple." I twisted some cubes out of the blue plastic ice cube tray, got two of my favorite aluminum cups and poured a couple of tall ones. He took the gold cup and I took the blue one. We guzzled that and then I topped off our cups with some more. "You hungry, Jon? I can make some Spaghetti O's." He liked that idea, so we were soon feasting on those little round noodles and tiny meatballs, washed down with plenty of ice cold, refreshing purple flavor Kool Aid. We'd finished up when Jon had an announcement. "Hey, I gotta Pee." He said. "Me too! Race ya!" At that, we made tracks down the hall to the bathroom. We both got to the toilet at the same time, so we were like, "Why not?" We took out our peens and cut loose together. We were having a laugh while crossing our streams into the bowl, when Jon asked, "Wanta hold each other?" For some reason that idea appealed to me and I reached for Jon's penis with my other hand and held him, directing his yellow stream into the center of the bowl. He did likewise and reached for my weenie. I let go of it after I knew he had a good grip on me and I wouldn't spray all over the place. We stood side by side, giggling as we held each other and relieved ourselves. It was male bonding, pure and simple. I shook Jon's penis and milked the last drops of pee out of it and he did the same for me, then for some reason I got this feeling inside me... I didn't want to let go of his dick because it felt so big and heavy in my fingers and holding it felt nice. So without a word, I continued holding onto him and slowly stroked his soft penis... moving the skin up and down, nice and easy. Only he didn't stay soft for very long. In a matter of seconds he was rock hard and so was I. He'd continued to hold onto my little peewee and stroked me to erection as well. I reached for the flush, then said, "C'mon." Jon followed me and we walked down the hall with our boners leading the way out of our open flies. When we entered my bedroom I checked the clock on my desk. We had about an hour of private alone-time left. I sat on the rug with my back on the side of my bed, and reached up to the waistband of Jon's pants, pulling them down along with his underpants. I sucked in a breath as I beheld the sight of Jon's stiff dick, pointing up toward the ceiling and throbbing in time with his heartbeat. I couldn't resist his hanging ball sac with its few wiry hairs, so I reached up to gently cup it in my hand and heft the weight of his twin boy jit factories. Jon smiled, then sat down next to me and reached over to unbutton my pants. I lifted my butt off the floor and he slipped them down, along with my briefs. There had been were no words since we were standing together in the bathroom. In a slight breech of messing-around buddy etiquette, we'd skipped feeling each other up and went right for skin to skin without even asking, stroking each other's boners right there on my bedroom floor with our pants pulled down around our ankles. I'd chosen my bedroom for our boner-play session for a reason. My room was over the garage and as soon as someone activated the electric opener I could always hear the door going up. Following Jon's teachings, I'd given us ample time to stop mid-jerk, pull up our pants and get out some baseball cards to look over, before anyone could've come into my room. I'd already learned a very basic rule for boys who messed around... Don't get caught. I looked over at Jon's boner as I was giving him his hand job. It was just so big! I paused stroking him to feel his wispy patch of pube hairs and the few sparse hairs on his balls. Then I took his engorged dick in my fingers and resumed jerking him. He had my 3 inch boner gripped firmly between his thumb 'n forefinger, whipping up 'n down my stiff little shaft like a jackhammer. It was heaven. I could hear our breathing, the sound of my heartbeat in my ears, and a bird twittering away on a tree branch outside my window. Also there was the soft "thwick-thwick-thwick" sound it makes when a boy's stiff dick is being rapidly jerked off. There's a natural urge to spread your legs when you're receiving a hand job, but our pants were down around our ankles, so we both bent our legs at the knees to spread our legs some more. This way, we gave each other access to the balls and we could pause stroking dicks to handle each other's delicate boy-marbles. We'd alternate together... stroking dicks up 'n down, then cupping ball sacs, then resumed jerking each other. I really liked playing with Jon's balls, they were so big! I guess he liked what I was doing on him because he managed to spread his legs a little wider so I could move his two boys around some more. He played with my little boy-marbles as well, but they were pulled up really tight and didn't move around as much. This all was just the best! I don't know how long we were at it, but there came a point when we were both humping to it, thrusting our pelvises in the primal, instinctive motion that even a kid knows to do. "You close Zane?" "Yeah." "Me too." He said. We both increased our speed until our hands were a blur on each other's dicks. "Thwick-thwick-thwick-thwick-thwick-thwick-thwick-thwick!" I could feel his dick begin to swell in my fingers and it kind of pulled close to his belly as I jerked it. "Aw fuck man, I'm gonna shoot! Better move your hand, the jit's gonna squirt on it." Jon had given me the warning that messing-around buddies knew to offer each other, and had even added some explanation. (Usually the terse warning was "gonna shoot"). It was one of those unwritten rules that guys who did dick stuff followed. It was meant so the guy could get out of the way when jit shot out of his budd's dick. Warning before shooting was the decent thing to do, you know? I didn't move out of the way. I just kept on stroking his big dick. He made a low growl and I actually felt his boner swell up in my fingers... and then the first squirt of jit shot out from his peehole. I slowed down stroking his boner a little, so I could watch the spurts of thick boy-nectar shoot out onto Jon's smooth belly, in and around his belly button. "Oh man! Oh fuck! Oh shit! Oh man! Feels so fucking good!" His little post boy-gasm remarks made me feel good, like I'd done something really special for my buddy. He put his hand on mine, with told me to stop stroking his dick because he was at the sensitive stage. I let him go and reached for a tissue box on my nightstand. I looked at the splotch of Jon's jit on my hand for a second, then wiped it up. I gave him some tissues so he could clean off his belly, his mushroom dickhead and catch the rest of his boy fluid that he milked out of his penis. We both tossed the damp jit rags in the wastebasket under my desk, and said in unison, "Two points!" "Your turn." Was all Jon said as he cupped my little boy-marble bag in one hand and stroked my boner with his other hand. It was so good, I was in another world, mumbling stuff that I couldn't even tell you. My stiffy was steely-hard in his fingers as he whipped it. I don't think it took me even a minute to climb back up the mountain of urgent boy-pleasure. A few more strokes of his fingers on my little boner and I'd reached the summit! "UnnnnnNNNNNGGGGGHHH!" I was feeling immense pressure in my 11 year old loins and my whole body quivered as I started to fall off the edge of the dry boy-gasm cliff. I was thrusting my pelvis out and arching my back. My skinny body had taken over and gone into automatic. I still remember Jon's exact words at that moment. "Thaaat's it buddy... Get it." And got it, I did. "Aw... FUCK yeah!" I verbalized my feelings as eloquently as I could while my stiff little peen twitched in Jon's skilled fingers. I swear I saw shooting stars. There was a high-pitched sound in my ears, like the noise that comes over the line when a phone on the other end is melting due to a nuclear blast. (I'd just seen the movie "Failsafe" and that's what it reminded me of). My muscles finally relaxed and I slumped down, completely satisfied and utterly content. Of course there was no mop-up after my dry boy-gasm. Jon commented on that again, telling me how easy it made it because I shot blanks. We both had a giggle at that remark. Now, we were two breathless preteen boys in the after-glow of messing-around sex, sitting next to each other on my bedroom floor with our pants pulled down around our ankles. It was kind of weird, but I felt really good. There was only one thing left to do... Pull up our pants and go out to the kitchen to get some more purple flavored Kool Aid. Messing-around made a guy thirsty!