A gay story: The Tent I’m tying up some loose ends, and editing this story has always been the ‘loosest of ends’ in my mind. Sorry for the wait in doing this, and thank you so much for your patience.
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Toward the beginning of my college days I was running around with a guy by the name of Mike Gloner, who I befriended a couple of years before when I worked my first part-time job.
Mike and I came from slightly different cliques when we were in high school. I associated with what was termed at the time as the ‘freaks,’ while Mike was most often chumming with the ‘jocks.’ However, even though we came from slightly different social strata we became fairly good friends over the years. Both of us liked the same music, we both liked sports, and we both smoked pot, which incidentally, was the initial hook to our friendship. We even found out later that we dated the same girl for a time, although Mike dated her a year after I had. Really, the only difference between Mike and I was that I had longer hair and a different gaggle of friends.
Still, even though Mike had much in common with me, and by implication, with my other long-haired brethren, my association with Mike was starting to create a rift within my own clique.
It seems that freaks and jocks should never mix, or at least that was the ruling attitude of the day. My other friends didn’t like Mike, and as far as I could tell, for no other reason than he was a jock. That was that, and they made sure to let me know about their dislike at any and every opportunity.
The verbal derision against Mike got so bad that one time a couple of my old friends relayed to me a rumor they heard about him. It was one of those, ‘a friend of a friend who has a brother told me’ type innuendos. According to these two geniuses Mike was a fag—their words not mine—and was seen making-out with another guy.
I didn’t ask for any details knowing that they wouldn’t have any. I told them that I knew Mike well. That I knew he has a girlfriend, and that we’ve double-dated on a number of occasions. I also told them that I had been with Mike in a number of different social settings, both alone and in groups, and not once did I get the impression that he ‘liked’ guys.
Quite frankly, even if the rumor were true, I really didn’t care. I thought Mike was a good person, and it really wasn’t any of my business what direction his sexual appetites may have ran.
After that bit of rumor-mongering, I started to move away from my freak friends. Life was too short to put up with their juvenile bullshit, which I chalked up to their irrational animosity toward jocks in general, and Mike in particular. I told Mike about the reaction of my other friends to our association, at least everything except the rumor, and he said he was getting the same kind of flak from his side.
None of this surprised me, and as a consequence, both Mike and I started to hang out together on a more regular basis, while shunning our past associations and cliques.
The break from my high school friends was actually easy, given that I was starting college in a few weeks, and as far as I knew I was the only one of my friends moving on in higher education.
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Over the next year I kept in touch with Mike, partying with him over Christmas and Spring Breaks but rarely seeing any of my old friends, many of whom had already moved away or were busy developing new lives of their own. Suffice it to say, I never gave their rumor about Mike’s ‘sexuality’ a second thought, mostly because he never did anything that would suggest he was anything other than straight.
It was during that first year’s summer break from college that Mike suggested we go camping and do a little fishing with another friend of his, Danny Trainer. I said it sounded like a good idea. I had always liked the woods and camping.
We decided to go over the Forth of July holiday given that it would be a long weekend.
Each of us brought our own camping gear and some food. Mike had one of those old canvas tents; the kind a person could almost stand up in, and which can sleep four comfortably.
The day of the trip started well enough. The sun was out, it was warm, and we made good time to the camp site. However, soon after our arrival the weather cratered on us, and we barely had enough time to get the tent up before it started raining.
It wasn’t a violent thunderstorm, which would have been typical for that time of year, but it was turning out to be one of those day-long soaking rains that keep everyone and everything under cover for hours, or even days, on end.
Danny suggested that we bag the trip and go another weekend. Mike and I disagreed, thinking that since we came all this way, we should wait it out and see what happens tomorrow. Besides, we had brought plenty of grass and beer, so at least we would have a good time, even if we were going to be stuck in the tent all day and night.
That night it was damp and a little cool. The rain was still coming down in a steady stream, but we remained reasonably dry even though there was a small leak in one corner of the tent.
Dinner was a forgone conclusion since we couldn’t build a camp fire, and we didn’t have enough ambition to drive to the nearest town for fast food. Yet, none of us minded given that we were getting a good buzz from the pot I brought.
Mike also brought a bottle of whiskey he had stolen from his old man’s liquor cabinet, and was periodically passing it around.
Pretty soon none of us were feeling either hungry or cold. It was a good time. Our conversation ebbed and flowed across various subjects, from sports to girls. Mike was a particularly good story-teller, and had a knack for making Danny and me laugh.
It was at about the time of our second joint and when a third of the whiskey was gone that the evening turned into something altogether different and unexpected. Mike had just finished one of his stories that had us all in stitches when he asked me, “John, you ever play truth or dare?”
I thought it was an odd question coming out of the blue as it did, “Yeah, a couple times in sixth grade. Why?”
“We got nothing else to do, let’s play truth or dare. Danny you game?”
Danny nodded his approval, but I thought it was a stupid idea, and said as much, “It’s a fucking kid’s game, which I didn’t like all that much even when I was a kid. I’d rather play poker.”
“Come on it will be fun, besides we didn’t bring any cards,” was Mike’s response as he put an empty beer bottle on the floor between us.
I was too stoned to argue with him. I figured each of us would answer a couple of stupid questions, someone would do one or two particularly moronic stunts, and then we would give up on the whole idea as idiotic.
“Okay, here are the rules,” Mike began, “You know how it was played when we were kids? No one would take the dare…”
“Unless they were stupid,” I interjected.
“…Right,” Mike continued, “Well this time one can only take three truth questions before you have to take a dare. Agreed?”
The question was rhetorical as Mike started the game by spinning the bottle before Danny and I could speak.
The truth questions were what would be expected, mostly about sex, ‘who would you fuck…who wouldn’t you fuck…what was your most embarrassing sexual experience…what was your greatest sexual conquest,’ that sort of nonsense.
Given the irregularities of the tent floor, Mike and Danny had to ask and answer the majority of questions, because the bottle rarely ended up pointing in my direction.
I had to admit that although I was a bit embarrassed playing a kid’s game at first, I was having a riot listening to these two trade stories. They were both genuinely funny guys who didn’t seem to take themselves and each other that seriously. Both my tent-mates were always quick to laugh and never said a disagreeable word. I was, at least, starting to feel comfortable and relaxed in the situation.
Eventually, the ‘dare’ part of the game had been reached. I still had a couple of truth questions I could use, but both Mike and Danny had used up their first three, and would have to take a dare if the bottle landed on them.
Mike spun the bottle, and true to form it landed on Danny.
Mike contemplated for a moment on what he was going to have Danny act out. Danny just sat and laughed in nervous anticipation, “Don’t make me do something too stupid like the last time, okay?”
Laughing, I asked Mike, “What did you have Danny do?”
Danny answered, “I had to give myself a swirly.”
“No swirlies this time,” Mike said, trying to mollify Danny, and then he added, “Instead, I want you to stand outside the tent and yell, ‘I love you Mrs. Fairchild,’ three times.”
I didn’t know it then, but Mrs. Fairchild was a teacher Danny had a crush on in grade school. I guess it was an inside joke between the two, and Mike always rubbed Danny’s nose with it.
“Fuck you man, it’s still raining and there’re other campers around,” Danny said.
“So? The quicker you get out there, the quicker you can get dry,” was Mike’s unsympathetic response.
Danny grudgingly opened the tent and stepped outside. As required, he yelled the statement three times at the top of his lungs.
From various points around the camp ground Mike and I could hear several dogs begin barking feverishly, while another group of campers yelled for the drunken asshole, whoever he was, to shut up.
Mike and I were laughing as Danny came back into the tent, embarrassed by the fact that he woke up the camp and was drenched from head to toe.
“You asshole,” Danny said to Mike as he laughed at himself, “Give me a towel.”
As Mike went to get him a towel Danny stood up and started removing all of his wet clothes.
At first, I didn’t think Danny’s actions were out of the ordinary, given that it would be natural to remove all your clothes to get dry; however, the way Danny just stood there toweling himself was somewhat unnatural.
There was something overtly sexual about his demeanor. For instance, he really didn’t towel himself except for his head, leaving his lower torso uncovered and well exposed the whole time. In fact, he positioned himself in a slightly arched backward stance, which caused his hips to be trusted forward. As he vigorously toweled his head, I could see that his movements were making his limp cock dance about, hitting first one leg and then the other.
I couldn’t tell at the time whether he was doing it on purpose or whether it was occurring naturally, a result of his enthusiastic toweling, but in any event the friction of his legs against his member was making his cock noticeably stiffen. It wasn’t getting fully erect, but it was obviously expanding in length and girth right before my eyes.
The whole time this is going on Mike is talking and laughing with Danny as if nothing is out of the ordinary, and given Mike’s nonchalant reaction, I assumed that I was misconstruing the situation.
Mike and Danny continued to talk, and I was content to listen, but minutes were now passing by and Danny still hadn’t sat down. He just stood there in the middle of the tent, clutching the towel that was now draped around his neck, and with his semi-erect cock still trust forward for all to see.
It was then that Danny casually stroked his cock. The movement was subtle, nearly imperceptible, a brief caress of his fingertips down the length of his member. At first I thought I was seeing things because Mike showed no reaction to Danny’s touching, but Danny repeated the action a few seconds later, causing his cock to expand further.
It had all become clear to me in that moment. The rumor about Mike that I had heard so long ago, the one I dismissed as nonsense and had subsequently buried deep in my memory, had now became self-evident. They were true.
Danny was most assuredly the guy Mike was making-out with when they were caught, and with perfect twenty-twenty hindsight it was finally and fully evident to me that this whole evening had been planned. The near-secluded camp site, the whiskey, the playing of a kid’s game that was better associated with a gathering of mixed couples rather than of straight males, the dare that forced Danny out into the rain as a pretext to removing his clothes, it had all been done by design.
Contrary to what I thought my initial reaction would be to this revelation, scorn or possible disgust, once I realized what was going on my first emotion was one of excitement. I couldn’t explain it to myself at the time, and I still can’t explain it very well to this day, but I was aroused.
Up to this point in my life, I had never thought or fantasized about man-on-man sex. I knew it occurred in the wide world, and I heard those who would partake in it talked about despairingly among friends. However, I had always viewed homosexuality ambiguously.
Intellectually, I still had doubts about what it would mean to me on a personal level. Is homosexuality good? Is it bad? What does this say about me as a man or as a person? What does it say about me morally or even ethically, and should I even care about these things at all? All of these questions ran unanswered through my head.
Yet, on an emotional level, there was no ambiguity, and I needed to look no further than my groin for that answer. I was hard as a rock.
Looking back on the situation, the purpose of Mike and Danny’s actions that evening are crystal clear, but at the time I was still unsure of myself. I could still be reading these signs wrong, and I didn’t want to do or say anything that would cause me severe embarrassment. Friendships could be ruined by one wrong, ill-timed phrase or gesture; consequently, I decided to let the events play out as they would or should, and for now, allow myself to drift along on the currents of the remaining evening.
I woke from these thoughts by having Mike snapping his fingers in front of my face. Danny had sat back down, but remained nude except for the towel that was still around his neck. It appeared that his cock was back to its normal, flaccid size. Both of my tent-mates were laughing at the startled look I must have given, having been abruptly roused out of my trace-like state.
Mike sat back on his sleeping bag and asked, “Where the fuck were you?”
“Sorry I was drifting. Too much pot and whiskey, I guess,” I said with a slight embarrassed tone, then added, “What were we talking about?”
Mike didn’t bother answering my question, and only stated, “Man, you really were out. Maybe we should just bag it for the night.”
Danny voiced his objection, “No way man, you’re not getting out of this. I own you for tonight, and I still owe you for that fucking swirly.”
“Yeah, let’s keep going,” I said with genuine enthusiasm, “The game is just starting to get interesting.” I added that last bit with the hope that they would start to wonder themselves. Was I getting interested because the game itself was fun, or because the situation having Danny naked was turning me on?
Danny spun the bottle. All of us were transfixed on who it would point to, and true to form it rested on Mike.
“Crap,” was Mike’s only response.
Danny was gleefully rubbing his hands together with closed eyes, acting as if in deep thought.
“Let’s see, what should I have you do,” he said, faking continued contemplation, “I know, you can answer a question that’s been bugging me since the other day. I was talking with your girlfriend, and she made it pretty clear that your package wasn’t what she had hoped.”
“Fuck you,” said Mike laughing.
Danny continued, ignoring Mike’s response, “Yeah, she said you had a small dick. Teeny in fact. Teeny.” Danny said that last part in a mock, high-pitched voice and holding his index finger and thumb close together.
“Fuck you, you weren’t talking with Carol,” Mike said still laughing.
“God’s honest, man. Although it was a little hard to understand what she was saying with my dick in her mouth.”
Fuck you,” Mike said again, and punctuated the curse by throwing another towel at Danny. Then he added, “Besides, how could she blow you, she never has any tweezers handy?”
Danny laughed, “That’s an odd thing to say. Why, does she usually need tweezers when she blows you?” Danny paused for a moment while all of us laughed at his repartee, and then he added, “And we can’t just take your word for it, you’re going to have to show it.”
I was pretty sure by now that all my guesses were correct, so I decided to go all in and play along with the game, “Yeah Mike, just how small is your dick?”
I can’t be sure, but after saying that I thought I saw Mike and Danny give each other a knowing glance, as if saying to each other that we got him.
Mike turned toward me in a mock show of defiance, then got up on his knees while lowering his pants and underwear.
Unlike Danny from before, Mike remained kneeling in front of us with a complete, full-blown hard-on. Danny’s initial reaction was to laugh. I sat transfixed.
Outside of my own hard-on, Mike’s was the only erection I’ve ever seen, in the flesh as it were. It was definitely larger than my own, maybe by about a couple of inches. The shaft was thick and muscular, and capped by a large, bulbous, purplish head, which was slightly shrouded where it met the shaft by a slightly darker-colored sheath of foreskin. His balls were large and looked smooth and hairless as they hung down low below the base of his shaft.
Not only was this the first erection I had seen, but it was the first uncircumcised cock I had seen. I continued to stare at it, transfixed, almost mesmerize. All I can remember was the overwhelming desire to reach out and touch his cock, to play with it and fondle it, to slide that foreskin over his bulbous head enough times so that he ejaculated.
Mike remained kneeling with his hands on his hips and proudly looked down at his well-formed cock. Then he began flexing his cock muscles so that his erection comically danced up and down.
Danny said, laughingly, “Look Johnny, Mike’s conducting an orchestra. Here, let me try that.” Getting up on his knees, Danny was now sporting an erection of his own, and flexed his cock muscles making his own hard-on dance.
From what I could tell Danny’s erection was about my length, and had about the same amount of girth.
I just watch the two of them flexing their cock muscles, getting more and more aroused myself, and decided that I would join the orchestra, “Well, since you guys are showing yourselves off I might as well join in.”
I was about to get up and remove my pants when Mike stopped me, “Wait a minute, before you show us your dick, Danny I’m betting Johnny’s bigger than you.”
“What if he is,” Danny asked?
“Then you have to jerk me off.”
Danny’s initial reaction was to laugh, but then he got serious, “And what if I’m bigger than he is?”
“Then I have to jerk you off.”
Before Danny accepted the bet, I did something I thought I would never suggest to another guy, “I tell you what, just by the look of things I can tell that Danny and me are pretty close to the same size. I’ll bet you Danny that if I’m smaller than you I’ll give you a blowjob, and if you’re smaller, you blow me. To prove I’m not trying to pull a fast one, I’ll just show you my goods.”
I stood all the way up and fully removed my pants and underwear. My cock was as hard as I’ve ever known it to be. I turned to the side so the two of them could get a good look, and also flexed my cock muscles and made it dance, and making the two of them laugh. I then restated my offer, “How about it Danny, you want to take my bet?”
Danny didn’t hesitate with his answer, “You’re on. Mike can measure.”
The measuring was just formality. The last little ritual that needed to be played out, like the last snap of the football in a game that had already been decided minutes ago. It didn’t matter who was bigger, or who was smaller, or who would suck who, first. At that moment, if either Mike or Danny stuck their cock in my face I would greedily start sucking it without hesitation, and I’m sure they would reciprocate if I did the same to them.
I knelt down in front of Danny, close enough so that our cocks brushed against each other. The sensation was electric. A small drop of pre-ejaculate fluid had already started to form at the tip of his cock. I leaned into him so that I could get a better look down at our members side-by-side. Danny griped my shoulders to steady himself. I could hear that his breath was labored and full of sexual excitement. We both watched intently as Mike alternated holding up his index fingers against our cocks, comparing our sizes.
Finally, Mike pronounced judgment, “Well it’s not by much, but John’s bigger.”
Danny didn’t say anything, nor did he look up at either Mike or I. He just lowered himself and inserted my cock into his mouth, and just like when our cocks brushed against each other, the sensation of my cock inside Danny’s warm, moist mouth was electric. So erotically electric that my legs began to involuntarily tremble, causing me to sit down on my heels to steady myself.
This was the first blow job I had ever experienced. What limited sexual contact I had with girls consisted of hand jobs and fucking. I tried at various times to coax girlfriends to suck my cock, but none would ever comply, saying that it was too big, or that the act sounded gross. It was, to say the least, frustrating, particularly since most of them enjoyed it when I went down on them.
Now, however, Danny was chugging my cock as a parched man takes deep draughts of water. Slowly, in and out, he pulled my cock in all the way down the shaft, so that his lips ended up touching my pubic hair. Then, nearing pulling it all the way out to where his lips and tongue could massage my cockhead. Occasionally he would withdrawal my cock completely, and slowly pump the shaft with his fist, spreading as much of his saliva down its length. Then back into his mouth it would go, and all the while cupping and messaging my balls with his other hand.
Mike moved along side of me so that both of us were facing Danny, side-by-side. His cock appeared even larger than when I first saw it, having mine next to his for scale. It stood out at a slightly upward angle, and I swear I could see it pulsating ever so slightly.
Mike put one of his arms around my waist and pulled me closer to him. I spontaneously wrapped my arm around him.
“Hey, don’t forget me,” Mike said hoarsely to Danny.
Danny shifted his mouth over to Mike’s cock, but kept stroking my member. I watched intently as Danny tried to completely pull Mike’s cock into his mouth, but he only succeeded in getting about two-thirds of it in before he had to pull it back out a bit in order to continue sucking it with ease.
“Don’t forget Johnny,” Mike said, teasing Danny.
Danny answered with a subtle and muffled laugh, and just shifted back to my cock.
Back and forth Danny would shift his oral attention, first sucking my cock, then over to Mike’s, and then back to me. The on again, off again oral sensations were driving me mad, always being brought close to the tipping point of climax as Danny worked his mouth and tongue all along my member, before having the feelings subside as he shifted over to work his techniques on Mike.
For his part, Mike was holding me close to his side, and occasionally uttering a loud moan and clutching me harder during times when Danny was paying particular attention to his stiff cock. At the same time, he gently massaged and kneaded my buttocks with one hand while massaging my chest with the other.
The sensations brought on by Mike’s attentions were almost as exciting as when Danny and I knelt together, cock to cock. It was during one of these times that I turned my head to see the look on Mike’s face when he voiced an especially loud groan. He was staring back at me, eyes half-lidded and with a smile on his face. I smiled back and was about to say something when he tried to kiss me.
I turned my head away at the last second so that he ended up kissing the side of my face and neck.
I don’t know why I turned away. Maybe it was some last vestige of heterosexual-induced remorse, or guilt, or squeamishness, but looking back at it, my reaction seems stupid. Here I was letting some guy suck my cock, and when the opportunity presented itself, I would gladly suck his. However, in that brief moment with Mike, I was reluctant to kiss another guy.
Suck him—yes—but never kiss him, or so it seemed.
Maybe my squeamishness stemmed from feelings that a kiss represents an act of love, rather than lust. Up until this time, I always considered all other sexual acts, the petting, the fondling, the sucking, and the fucking, only as vehicles to be used in achieving sexual excitement and climax, and absent any real romantic consequence or condition. In my mind, however, a kiss represented a far more intimate connection between two people. So I was reluctant at first to meet Mike’s kiss with my own.
Mike didn’t seem to care, and without hesitation or rebuke, continued to nuzzle my neck and to caress my chest and ass. It was this nonjudgmental act on his part, to continue to apply pleasure unconditionally even after I had rejected his attempt that pushed me fully into the light of full acceptance to the acts to which I was a part. Any last remnant of reluctance I may have had pertaining to gay sex completely dissolved away in that moment. For the rest of the evening I would accept any sexual overture from either Mike or Danny with complete lack of restraint or inhibition.
I turned my head back to Mike, while gently but firmly took his head into my hand, and as I had done to all my girlfriends previously, I kissed him.
The kiss was deep and passionate, our tongues darting within and between our mouths. Mike clasped my ass even firmer, and removing his other hand from my chest forced Danny’s head down further on his cock, and then down onto mine.
The whole oeuvre of the situation, the kiss, the caressing, the sucking, the fact that Danny was being used as a tool for our own sexual pleasure, all of these details I can never forget. The feelings were so intense and lacking of any moral restraint that I have always strived to duplicate them from then on, unfortunately without much success.
It seems that the first time is often times the best time.
For whatever reason, Mike broke off our embrace and shuffled off to his backpack without saying anything. Danny must have been getting cramped given the awkwardness of his position and straightened himself, although he kept a gentle hand massaging my erection.
Without missing a beat, I grabbed Danny and pulled him down with me as I lay back onto my own sleeping bag. As he kissed me with the same intensity as Mike, I gripped his ass with both of my hands and pulled his cock forcibly against my own. Without further thought, I spread his cheeks and applied pressure to his anus with my fingertips. The act elicited a deep, rumbling moan form him, and he reciprocated by grinding his groin back and forth against me.
I saw that Mike had come back carrying a jar of Vaseline. Giving it to Danny, he straddled me as he sat down on my chest.
This was the first time I got an up-close look at Mike’s thick erection. It still glistened from Danny’s saliva in the ambient lamp light. The bulbous head was fully unsheathed, and an ever growing drop of pre-ejaculate fluid was forming at its opening. I took a fingertip and gently touched the drop and slowly pulled it away, leaving a thin strand that stayed attached to his cockhead. With my finger moistened, I began to lightly swirl the fingertip all around his cockhead, causing more fluid to freely flow out of the opening.
I could feel Mike’s thighs trembling as they tightly gripped my chest. With my other hand, I spread more of his fluid down the underside of his thick shaft, causing even more of the clear fluid to leak out, thus, providing me with a near endless supply of lubricant.
All the time I was administering to Mike, Danny was slowly stroking my cock and massaging my balls. He never touched the head. He just kept moving his palm up and down my shaft, always stroking up to it, but never actually touching my bulbous gland. I think if he had I would have shot my load, but in this way, whether by accident or design, he was always keeping me on the verge of coming, but never pushing me over the edge. Danny soon had me in a state of sexual frenzy from his teasing, gliding hands.
Mike shifted forward so that now his heavy balls were hanging down just above my mouth. I knew what he wanted. He didn’t have to say anything to me. I just opened my mouth as wide as I could and drew both balls and sack inside me.
As I had thought before, his scrotum was hairless. My mouth was dry and his balls felt cool against my tongue and cheeks.
Awkwardly at first, and then with better coordination, I stroked his cock with my palm and fingers while I continued to juggle his balls from one side of my mouth to the other with my tongue. I remember intently watching his foreskin sliding back and forth across the head due to my stroking motions, wondering whether the sheath added heightened sexual pleasure to his organ. In any event, Mike was constantly moaning. His eyes were closed, and I could feel he was fondling his own ass with his hands.
It was at that moment where Mike was playing with his own ass that Danny moved up behind him, saying, “You owe me for that swirly.”
For a brief moment I almost laughed, given the current situation and the reference back to the game. The whole scenario struck me as funny.
Mike didn’t say anything but pulled his balls out of my mouth, positioning himself on all fours, with his elbows on the tent floor and his ass high in the air.
Once Mike moved off my chest I was able to see what Danny was doing through Mike’s legs. He was sliding a couple of fingers in and out of Mike’s ass. I could see and feel Mike’s cock deflate a bit upon Danny’s initial finger insertions, but it quickly stiffened again as I continued to stroke his shaft.
Danny then shifted up and forward and deftly inserted his already lubed cock in where his fingers used to be. Danny’s pumping was slow but steady and the forward and backward shifting of his hips caused both of their scrotums to swing to and fro. The site was so erotic that all I could do was watch and occasionally grab and gently pull on each of there swinging balls.
Some of you reading this may think we were stupid, going bareback, as is the saying today. However, you have to remember that this was a time before Aids, before Herpes, before any of the other sexual maladies that plague our current world. There was no need for a rubber, no need crosschecking our medical records, or cross examining each other on the number and type of sexual partners that had come before. In the tent, there was no girlfriend to woo with dinner, presents, or flowers. No pleading was needed to get them to jerk it, to suck it, to sit on it, or to spread their legs for it. There was no endless crescendo toward a peak of sexual anticipation, only to be rejected down into a frustrated heap of sexual dejection. There would be no ‘what ifs’ afterwards. No moral equivocations. No need for phone calls, rings, pins, or pledges of devotion. We were young, and yes, we were stupid, but we were horny; and all we could think of doing was to fuck and suck.
The frequency of Danny’s pumping was increasing and becoming more forceful.
I grabbed Mike’s cock by the base and drew him into my mouth as far as it would go without choking. By now I had plenty of saliva, and used it to great effect in slathering it all around his cock and balls.
I was jerking and sucking him as hard and as fast as I could. I would try and pull him in as far as I was physically capable while still jerking him. Occasionally I would remove his cock from my mouth and massage it roughly all around my face and across my tongue, and always taking a moment to suck on his tightening scrotum before taking his cock back into my mouth.
I only had a slight gag reflex. As I would learn subsequent to this night, a big cock never bothered me as long as I had some control over it; however, given the angle I was at and the hardness of Mike’s cock, I could only insert him part way. You cannot imagine how desperately I wanted to pull his cock all the way into my mouth until I could feel his balls on my chin. No matter, I would just feverously stroke with my free hand whatever part of his shaft I couldn’t fully insert.
Mike’s moaning was now constant and loud, and I knew he was ready to come. With hand and mouth in unison I sucked his cock slowly and unvaryingly, up along his shaft until I could feel the head touch the interior of my lips, and then back down the shaft until my fist touched his stomach. In and out, in and out I worked on his beautiful cock.
For a brief moment I felt his whole body stiffen, and then he let out one long, guttural moan just before filling my mouth with his cum.
I tried to accept everything he had to give, and kept pumping his cock with my fist as I clamped my lips down just below the head. His cum was warm, and felt thick and stringy in my mouth. I soon found out, however, that it was nearly impossible to swallow without really clamping down hard on his erection, so I just allowed it to spill out the corners of my mouth as I continued pumping. Mike eventually collapsed off to the side, his body as limp as his now satisfied member.
I was still on my back swallowing what little cum remained in my mouth. I could still feel thick stands of Mike’s semen hanging from my cheeks and chin. Surprisingly, it didn’t have any discernable taste, or any taste I found objectionable, although its thick, filmy texture was less than desirable.
No words were spoken by anyone even though we had reached some sort of plateau in the evening that usually required comment. Mike still lay motionless and breathing heavily. Danny stood above me. I wasn’t sure whether he had also ejaculated, but his cock was still fully erect.
Without prompting he knelt back down between my legs. Then dipping a finger in the jar of Vaseline, he proceeded to insert it into my ass.
The feeling was not altogether pleasant at first. In fact, it irritated me to the point where I felt like I needed to take a piss. However, he kept working his finger around, and the irritation soon gave way to an overall pleasurable euphoria that spread across my whole groin.
He took some more Vaseline, and slid a second finger into my ass, which caused the euphoric feeling to intensify. I instinctively brought my knees up to my chest in order to spread my ass cheeks wider and to facilitate easier insertion of Danny’s fingers. As he worked his fingers in and out of my ass, he also started stroking my cock until it was full and hard again.
I had propped myself up by the elbows so that I could watch him jerk me off while finger fucking me.
Again, the bastard wouldn’t touch the head, and only concentrated around the base of my shaft and balls. It was maddening. I half wanted to come, but then again, I half didn’t, hoping he would extend the maddening pleasure as long as possible.
I remember watching, full of sexual anticipation, as he brought his fist up to just below my cockhead, hoping that he would touch it and set off my orgasm, and then feeling a sense of relief when he slowly backed away knowing that the euphoria would continue. Over and over he did this, always keeping me at the threshold of climax.
He knew exactly what he was doing to me, because he started to giggle and playfully taunt me, “What’s the magic word or I’ll stop?”
“Don’t stop! Please!” I would have to plead, before he would go back to slowly stroking me.
This went on interminably until I couldn’t take it any more, and I finally heard myself demand, “Danny just stick your dick in me.”
Still teasing, Danny smiled and said, “What? I can’t hear you. What did you say?”
I started laughing about the situation he had me in, and said louder, “Stick your hard dick up my ass!”
“How far up your ass?”
Still laughing, “You fucker, shove that hard cock all the way up my ass. I want you to fuck my ass hard and shoot your cum into me.”
He finally took pity on me. I watched in eager anticipation as Danny removed his fingers, paused for a moment to adjust his stance, and then thrust his hard cock into me.
Danny’s initial penetration was not as pleasurable as I thought it would be. Certainly not like his fingers. In fact, it was momentarily quite painful.
Out of reflex, I shifted backwards away from his trust in some vain effort to mitigate the pain. Danny noted my discomfort, and slowed his penetration, gradually inching his cock deeper into me until he was fully inside.
Again, I felt that overriding urge to urinate as Danny started to slide his cock in and out of my anus. However, as with his fingers, this irritation quickly gave way to a general feeling of euphoria that permeated the whole region of my groin.
Danny started off slow and steady like he did with Mike, but it wasn’t long before he was ramming his cock into me, backing out slow and then rapidly and forcefully penetrating me as far as he could. The sensation was one of pleasure and pain, with one feeling never dominating over the other. I would experience a slight pain during Danny’s energetic insertion, followed by pleasurable euphoria during his slow withdrawals.
What I found to be even more erotic, was the overriding sense of submissiveness as Danny as he continually slammed down into me. To extend my erotic feelings of subservience, I brought my legs up and slung them over his shoulders so that my hips were naturally suspended above the tent floor. This also allowed for more unhindered and deeper penetration of Danny’s cock into my ass.
The whole time Danny was fucking me I was unaware of what Mike was doing, until he came up and knelt along side Danny. He was whispering something into Danny’s ear, but I couldn’t quit make it out over the loud moans and slapping sound Danny made as he slammed down into my ass. I could see that Mike was already hard, and was liberally applying more Vaseline to his cock.
The only thought that crossed my mind was that I couldn’t believe Mike was hard again so soon after coming.
Danny was no longer varying his stokes, but had started to fuck me as hard as he could. My ass must have been getting used to his dick because there wasn’t any pain, just a continual warm and pleasurable irritation that was now acutely centered in my ass.
It was a feel that I had never experienced, either when I jerked off or when I was fucking my girlfriend. It was as if I was nearing orgasm, or at least the beginning of nearing an orgasm, but never quite getting enough stimulation to push me over the edge.
I had to admit it, but I was starting to like being fucked in this manner. Danny’s incessant moaning, his rapid and forceful penetration, the slapping sound his body made against mine, the submissiveness I felt that seemed to heighten my sexual arousal, and the arousal itself, which had me on the precipice of climax but never enough to pull me over, it was all coming together, causing me to lose what little control I had over my own demeanor.
I felt like a slut, and began sounding and acting like one.
I reached up as far as I could and grabbed Danny’s buttocks in a gesture of assisting him in his repeated assaults on my ass. I heard myself saying repeatedly, and in time with each of his forward thrusts, “Fuck me harder! I want to come. Fuck me harder. Fuck me with that hard cock!”
I wanted to come so badly as he fucked me, but I think my verbal encouragements were too much for Danny’s own control. Within seconds of my newfound slutty, smutty, submissive talk, I felt his body tighten. Danny gave one last forward lunge, and stopped.
An expression I will never forget, but find impossible to describe, passed across his face as he started to ejaculate deep with me..
He was frozen like a statue throughout his climax. I couldn’t feel his cum shooting into my ass, but I knew from his repeated, soft murmurings of, “Oh my God,” that he was emptying everything he had into me.
Toward the end of his climax, he slowly pumped his cock in and out one or two more times in an effort to shoot the last remnant of semen into me, before laying on his back, breathing heavily.
Danny had no sooner removed himself before Mike step into his place.
He positioned me the same way as Danny had, with my legs thrown over his shoulders. Mike, being much taller than Danny, lifted my ass further above the tent floor as he leaned forward against my legs and then into me.
I could feel his massive pole inching into my ass. The sudden pain I felt was even worse than when Danny first entered me, and I instinctively flinched away. Mike tried again, slower this time, but still the pain was near unbearable. He tried one or two more times, but each attempt was met with me having to push away from him in pain and frustration. It was maddening. I wanted Mike to fuck me. I needed to come while he fucked me, but there was too much pain.
I told him as much, and he suggested that I get on top, and see if I couldn’t ease him inside me on my own.
With that, Mike laid his back while I straddled his lower torso facing him. Then, I gradually lowered myself down, sliding his cock inside.
The progress was slow, but I was able to keep the pain at a minimum by inching him in a little further each time, before withdrawing and waiting until my ass adjusted to his expanded girth.
A couple times Mike tried to speed things up by thrusting up with his hips, but I would stop him with a shove to his chest.
Finally, I was able to put about half of his cock into me. At that point, I began raising and lowering myself using slow, short motions, sliding his cock back and forth without much pain.
The euphoria was back. That warm, pleasurable irritation about my ass and balls had returned with even greater intensity. Added to this general euphoria in my lower torso, my semi-erect cock would occasionally strike my leg, sending acute waves of pleasure throughout my body.
Eventually, my cock was nearly at full hardness, and having grown accustomed to his size and girth, I was able to completely sit down with Mike’s full length stuffed inside of me.
By this time, Danny had come alongside and started doing to me what he did best, that slow sliding of his warm hand along my shaft. He was saying something to me, but all I could hear was the blood pounding in my head, so I just smiled a response.
Now, Mike had taken over the pumping action. I sat more upright on my knees so that he could work his hips up and down with ease, slowly at first and then with greater frequency. Through all this, Danny kept to his slow stroking rhythm of my cock.
I could feel my knees and thighs weaken, and I had to put an arm around Danny for support. Mike was now slamming up into me as hard and as fast as Danny had done.
Danny, for his part, tried to prolong the moment as best he could by concentrating his stroking at the base of my cock, but Mike’s violent humping made that impossible. I had reached the point of no return.
In one motion I sat down as Mike thrust upward. The action caused Danny’s fist to make good contact with my cockhead, and finally triggering my orgasm.
I don’t know if I said anything when I came. I don’t remember if I yelled or even if I moaned loudly, all I remember is wildly convulsing as one long stream of cum after the other shot out of me in regular pulses.
I remember seeing the first pulse fly well over Mike and disappear into the darkness of the tent, making a loud ‘spat’ sound as it hit the canvas on the other side of our enclosure. The second and third jets shot forcefully across Mike’s chest and up the side of his face. My remaining convulsions were weaker, but no less pleasurable, as they formed a large pool of semen on Mike’s stomach.
Danny finally let go of my now deflating cock, and remarked, laughingly, “Jesus, your dick exploded.” Then looking up at Mike, commented with a similar, jovial laugh, “Oh man, Mike, you should see the side of your face.”
I can’t remember much else after that, except having a difficult time mustering enough leg strength to get off Mike and lay down. I was spent for the rest of the evening.
********
I was up early the next morning, but stayed in my sleeping bag, thinking of last night’s events.
It was still raining, but it had slacked off considerably from the night before, becoming nothing more than a slow, but steady drizzle. Danny and Mike were still in their bags, sleeping.
Going over the events of last night and reliving them in my mind, I was getting hard in the process. I was imagining even more wild sexual scenarios that could be explored in subsequent days, and getting myself harder still.
However, my emotional responses were cooling with the morning air, and I was starting to think more intellectually about last night. All of those nagging questions were coming to the forefront if my thoughts again. What, if anything, did last night say about me as a person, or as a man? Will there be any moral ramifications? Would I still enjoy girls? Was I going to start talking with a lisp and feel the urge to join the ballet?
In retrospect, they were stupid thoughts to be sure. I am a man and I love women, both as friends and lovers. I don’t talk in lilting pronouncements and I still hate the ballet, and as far as any moral or ethical problems, there have been none as far as I know.
However, those questions did occupy my mind early that next morning, and I thought they needed to be dealt with at some time. I also wondered whether either of my two companions had similar thoughts, and if so, what they felt or did about them, if anything.
Oh well, it was still too early and there was plenty of time to explore all of these questions later. We had three days in the woods, and who the hell wants to fish anyway?
One thing for sure, I felt no guilt. Thinking back over the evening’s events, I knew those erotic feelings I had in the throes of last night still felt natural to me in the dispassionate calm of the morning. I certainly wanted a repeat performance as soon as possible.
There was one question that was really bugging me, though, and I was going over it in my head when I heard Mike stirring in his bag. Before I could ask him, however, he quickly put on his shorts saying something about needing to take a giant piss, and left the tent.
Having missed my opportunity with Mike, I thought to give Danny a try, “Danny, you awake?” I heard him grunt an acknowledgment before continuing, “What the fuck is a swirly?”