Message-ID: <3588eli$9709011202@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/Year97/3588.txt>
From: blackkitty@hotmail.com (Patricia Larsen)
X-Good-Line-Length: yes
Subject: An Erotic Story, John and Me
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit
Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii
Path: qz!not-for-mail
Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam
Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Original-Message-ID: <34124032.3043015@news.direct.ca>


Copyright 1997 by Phillip James.

                                John and Me

One December 24th in the mid-sixties, my friend John and I went hiking
on a nearby mountain. The weather was normal for Christmas in the Blue
Ridge Mountains. The temperatures was in the forties during the day,
below freezing at night. The sky was overcast and we had decided to
explore a part of the mountain we'd never seen.

At this time, John and I had messed around before but we'd never
talked about "it." Our encounters had occurred during sleepovers at my
house or his, after the lights were out. I'd lie in the dark, waiting,
listening for the rustle of covers, the soft creak of springs, then
the sense that John was by my bed. His hand would snake beneath my
sheets. I would suppress a moan when his hand cupped the bulge in my
Jockey shorts. He'd squeeze and my cock would throb, swelling quickly
to its full size. 

Yes, John had always started the sex play. The size of my cock always
fascinated him. It was fat and, even then, a long eight inches of
meat. I humped at his hand and he'd let my hard- on out of the
confining shorts and begin stroking. I could feel in his grip his
intrigue with my cock and every nerve in my body tingled.

As soon as he felt my oozing pre-cum, he'd stop and return to his bed,
leaving me high and horny. I'd tug my shorts off and make my way in
the dark to his bed where he lay waiting. He was always lying atop the
covers, naked from the waist down and with his cock standing rigid,
awaiting my grasp. His cock fascinated me as much as mine seemed to
enchant him. Thinner and shorter than mine, it was the only erection
I'd ever held, besides mine of course. It felt absolutely wonderful as
I gripped that hot, pulsing shaft, wanting to see it, even to say
something.but I knew that a word or a light would break the spell and
turn the fun unreality into guilt-ridden actuality.

John would hunch upward, wordlessly urging me on. I'd jerk on that
cock, feeling its heat, smelling the musky scent that made my mouth
water. I would lower my head and slowly let him into my mouth, in the
darkness not fearing the naughtiness and names and stigma. It was like
a dream and in dreams we can do anything.

His cock tasted delicious as it slid over my tongue and tingled my
tastebuds. My fingers would toy with his balls and he would moan,
arching his back and driving that hard bar of his until the head
tickled my throat and his entire piece was between my lips.

I always knew when he was about to come. Sixth sense or the sound of
his breathing or trembling of his prick or something, I don't know.
But I'd take my mouth away just as he started spurting and jack him
off. Even though I couldn't see his cum, it excited me to no end to
realize that I was making him shoot off.

Something else that I never understood. Before he could finish coming,
sometimes just as he had started, he'd push me away, as though he was
overcome by guilt at our actions. But in the silence and darkness, I
was just grateful for the experience. I'd grope my way back to my own
bed, grab hold of my cock and beat off, then fall asleep. In the
morning, it was always as if I'd dreamed about it. John never
mentioned it, never gave the slightest hint that we'd done anything.
Had it been a dream on my part? Was the dry cum crusting my shorts
merely from a wet dream?

But that Christmas Eve day on the mountain changed all that. The
previous night had been rainy and cold and ice hung from stone
outcroppings. The air was chilly, but we had dressed warmly and the
walking itself had us plenty warm. We stopped often, admiring the
view, finally finding a large, flat area where we built a small fire.
I told John that I had to take a leak. He surprised me when he
suggested we have a contest to see who could piss the farthest.

We stepped onto a rock and unzipped. I've always been one of those
guys who can't piss if anyone is around. So I stood there, dick in
hand, not feeling the cold at all. I felt very warm just knowing John
was next to me, and I felt him looking at my dick. I watched as he
unzipped and fished out his own prick. When I saw that it was
half-hard my cock quickly got longer and thicker and hotter. His
responded as well until we both stood on that rock with our rock-hard
pricks poking out.

His looked just like I'd envisioned it on each of those nocturnal
trysts. It was a five-inch long pink beauty, circum- cised with blue
veins running along it. It curved upward and was capped with a smooth
crown that was flushed. Downy light brown curls surrounded the base
where it protruded from his fly. My mouth watered as I branded the
image of John's cock into my brain, giving form to the unseen pole I'd
frigged and sucked so many times in the past. I wanted to see his
balls and to use my tongue on him, but I figured I'd let him call the
shots.
 
"That's a, uh, big one," John said quietly and haltingly When his hand
reached for my poker, I gladly relinquished my grip to let his fingers
curl around it. "Hot," he said. I just closed my eyes and moaned and
John pumped my prick. Within a minute I felt pre-cum ooze out and John
stopped. That's when I discovered that John had thought my
pre-orgasmic fluid was my cum. He always came so fast he'd never
experienced pre-cum. I told him I wanted him to watch me come.
 
I was going to sit by the fire and jerk off, but John suddenly got an
idea. A crazy idea.

"Let's put a hole in this ice and you can 'do it' to the hole," he
said. He was indicating a frozen sheet of ice several feet long which
hung from a boulder like a frozen waterfall. <John would never use the
"dirty words" like "fuck" or "suck," but always euphemisms. Even
today, it's still a rarity for him to let a bad word (like "cock")
come from his lips.

Using a rock and a stick, John proceeded to make a hole in the ice,
which turned out to be several inches thick. It took several minutes
and he had underestimated the circumference and had to enlarge it. He
kept glancing at my still stiff prick, dribbling juice in long, clear
strands to the ground. 

"Wonder if that could freeze?" John asked.

"A cum-cicle," I said and we laughed.

Finally the hole looked big enough.

"Now, I'm going to crawl under the ledge here so I can watch, " John
told me. I was a bit disappointed because I wanted to watch him watch
me. I wanted to see his face, especially when I shot off. But again, I
was willing to follow his lead. After feeling to make sure there were
no sharp edges, I stuck my hot cock into the ice. (Nowadays I still
laugh when I think about fucking that ice-hole!)

I was only vaguely aware of the freezing grip of the ice surrounding
my cock. Believe it or not, I had sweat beading on my forehead and
heat throbbed through my cock, hot enough so that water soon began
dripping onto my balls as the friction melted the ice.

I could only see John's feet sticking out and I could only imagine his
expression as my purple-headed cyclops fucked the hole. At one point I
felt John's fingers on my meat. I felt my balls tighten as they
prepared to release their load.

I made a couple of loud noises as I humped at the ice. I held still,
my cock fully imbedded, as it throbbed, sending my juice rocketing out
of the tip in front of John's eyes. It was the most powerful orgasm I
could remember as it felt like my guts were trying to launch out of my
prick. I yelled and grunted with each wracking spasm, wondering if my
jerking body would shatter the ice veil.

Finally, the contractions subsided. Though my cock was still stiff,
with the lava drained from my body, I quickly became aware of the
cold, particularly the sub-freezing cold that my prick was inside. I
shivered as I pulled my cock from the icy glory hole and looked at its
stiff, blue-tinged length. I felt it, my fingers feeling wet, chilled
flesh, my numb cock barely aware of the warmth of my hand. I quickly
tucked my cock into my pants to let it warm up.

John crawled out, his face flushed as red as the tip of his dick, snug
in the grasp of his hand.

"Wow!" he said. "I can't believe that . . . seemed like a gallon of .
. .
of stuff . . . ."

"Your turn," I said. John moved to the hole but it was way too big for
his smaller prick. "Hang on," I said. I hurried behind the screen of
frozen water. The light filtered eerily through the translucent ice
and I felt as if I had entered a dreamscape. I could see the dark
shadows of his legs and then I saw the hole with John's stiff prick
jutting through. A foot in front of his cockhead was the gray rock
with long strands of my cum dripping down and freezing into white
stalactites.

I moved into the confining area, opened my mouth and let the helmet of
John's stiff soldier inside. I closed my lips as tightly as I could
around the shaft. My chin rubbed the ice but I didn't care. I felt
warm all over as if I'd plugged into a hot reservoir of body heat, a
direct link to John's boiling juice.

He began fucking my mouth and within a few seconds I knew he was about
to shoot his goo. I was going to take it in my mouth and let his stuff
warm me. My own cock throbbed with excitement, even though I had just
come minutes before.

John groaned and stiffened and a thick oyster of hot cum spurted into
my mouth. God, how thrilling! The first time spunk ever shot into my
mouth and I knew instantly that I'd want it to happen again and often.
The salty sweet taste of that simmering gob of gonad goo tasted divine
and I eagerly awaited the next shots from the spurting nozzle. But
even as my lips tightened around his cock, John backed away, pulling
that spitting rod from the warmth of my hungry mouth. A spurt hit my
upper lip and tongue as I desperately licked into the hole, hoping his
cock would return.

I felt very disappointed and rejected and, after a second or two,
crawled out from behind the frozen wall of water. John was just
zipping up and I saw white streams of sauce slowly running down the
ice like molasses. I felt almost like getting on my knees and licking
the tasty stuff from the icy sheet and licked my lips, relishing the
flavor of the juice that I had gotten to taste.

John was staring at me with the strangest expression on his face,
confusion and fear in his eyes. He mumbled something about having to
go to the Christmas eve service at church and we put out the fire and
quickly hiked down the mountain. John talked, I listened, but he
didn't mention what had just happened, again as after our nighttime
encounters.

I found out the next summer that he had, indeed, been frightened and
confused. His body wanted the pleasure my hand and mouth gave, just he
had enjoyed feeling and touching me had pleased him. Yet he was torn
by what his religious upbringing had drilled into him, plus the litany
of asinine, prejudicial derisions his father had uttered over the
years. I now know that what he felt is a common experience. Why I
never felt the artificial shame or the society-imposed guilt, I don't
know. John just says I'm a hedonistic sex maniac whose brain shifts to
my cock when I get horny. Which is often. Maybe he's right.

It was months before we had another sleepover, though, and I waited a
long time waiting for the rustle and squeak before I fell asleep
disappointed. I awoke, though, with John's hand briskly jacking my
cock and he kept going even after my pre-cum flowed. When I realized
that he was going to jerk me off, the simple realization sent me over
the edge and I felt the tug inside that sent my nut oil zooming
through my cock and out.

"Wow!" John whispered from the dark as my cum fountained out. I could
feel it fall back on my cock and John kept pumping as it coated his
fingers and hand, filling the air with the sloshy sounds of wetness.

Before he could move, I reached out in the black void and found his
crotch. Seconds later I freed his poker and spoke.

"Let me," I said. I seemed to feel him start to withdraw then to give
in as I pulled and maneuvered his boner to my already-salivating
mouth. His hand, thoroughly drenched with my cum, still held my cock
and he squeezed as my lips found the heated shaft of his feverish
prick.

"Oh, ye-s-s, suck it!" he hissed, surprising me. John had never
encouraged me before, and he didn't need to ask twice. My hands
unsnapped his pajama bottoms, pulled them down and grabbed hold of his
ass cheeks, pulling him forward and sending that delicious dick still
deeper into my mouth. I felt him tremble and his cock spurted thin,
sweet pre-cum onto my waiting tastebuds. I rubbed and squeezed his
butt and groaned around his dick to let him know that I was enjoying
myself (and him) and that I wanted more, whatever he had to give me. I
wanted to suck and swallow a bellyful of thick jism from him. I still
vividly recalled the fresh taste of him from Christmas Eve and I
wanted to taste him again, to swallow his offering and feel its heat
in the pit of my stomach.

I was not disappointed that time. John's cock swelled in my mouth and
I pulled him to me hard, his pubic curls mashing my lips, and he
grunted as he shot his steaming spunk into my mouth. John held onto my
head, I suppose out of some fear I'd changed my mind. No way.

I didn't swallow but let the stuff accumulate in my mouth, surrounding
his cock with its warmth and puffing my cheeks. I eased his cock part
way out to make room for the abundant flow of cream and by the time
his cock was drained my mouth was filled with his sweet syrup. It felt
divine, warm and thick and gooey, and its taste was even better than I
remembered.

I kept sucking on his slowly-shrinking piece while John caught his
breath and regained some of his composure, then his body jerked from
my tongue work on his sensitized glans and it slipped from between my
lips, dragging a dollop of cum out with it that drooled down my chin.

I wanted to savor the taste and texture of the scummy load in my
mouth, but I had to swallow a bit before my cheeks burst. I gulped a
small wad of slime that slid down my throat to my stomach. Delicious.
Fantastic. Wonderful.

"Thanks," John whispered in the darkness, his hands still holding my
head. His sweaty pubes tickled my nose and I inhaled the yummy smell
as his limp prick brushed against my lips. I gulped again and let my
tongue snake out to lap as his spent piece. I even licked at his small
sac, tasting the crotchy tang there. His body still shuddered, but he
didn't move away; in fact, he held my head right where I wanted.

"My pleasure," I said just before I again sucked that shrunken wonder
between my lips. Cum still coated the inside of my mouth and leaked
from his cock and I sucked him again, de- lighted at the prick
pacifier in my mouth that swelled and soon gave me yet another
mouthful of warm gravy. We had exchanged silent promises and thoughts
and instinctively knew that we would always share the pleasure of each
other.

But that was 39 years ago. John is married to a beautiful lady. We are
both straight but I would truly like to suck his cock again (and again
and again!) Certainly a 3-some would be a blessing. Ah, to suck his
cum from her pussy!

John, if you read this, let's get reacquainted. Let's get together,
your wife, too.


Did you like this adult story??  Find many more group sex
stories and hundreds of other types for free at
http://members.tripod.com/~colwow/story.htm

-- 
+--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+
| story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us |
| Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |
\ <URL:http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/>    .../assm/faq.html> /