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First of all...I didn't write any of these stories.  My collection of stories come from places I've visited over the years.  
I tried to sort out all the incomplete and straight stories.  If a few got past me, my apologies.

Happy Reading!!!!

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=== This is a fictional presentation! === This is a fictional presentation! ===
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                                      DOUG

Doug  and I had known each other for years.   We met when we were  seven  years
old,  became good acquaintances, then later very close friends.   It was one of
those friendships that starts off good and keeps getting better with age.

We played football together in high school.  I was a candidate for all-city  at
halfback.  Doug was basically my blocker on the right side of the line.

Without  his enormous size and speed,  I probably would have been just  another
mediocre  running back.   But he opened up holes that my Uncle could  have  run
through.  He made me look at lot better than I actually was.

>From the time we were kids,  I had liked Doug a lot and we spent an  inordinate
amount of time together.   Truth of the matter is that I was in love with  him.
But  since Doug was as straight as they come,  I never had even  the  slightest
inclination that we would ever be anything but close friends.

Doug was one hot looking young boy who became an extremely handsome young  man.
He  was  about  6-foot-5,  but looked shorter because of his  240  pounds,  the
stature  that made opposing linemen cringe when he lined up across  from  them.
He had black curly hair and deep vivid blue eyes,  which always were set off by
a sensational tan.

His parents were Scottish,  and there was some Spanish on his mother's side  of
the  pedigree,  so  he had a slightly dark complexion that  tanned  easily  and
attractively.   And  in his white jockeys, the combination of the  stark  white
cotton against that dark skin and black hair was completely irresistable.

Doug wasn't all that great in the dick department,  but with his huge frame and
well muscled shoulders,  it really seemed irrelevant.   He was a handsome  hunk
who all the girls (and some of the boys) lusted over.  What really made him the
ultimate  turn-on was his uneven smile that seemed to say,  "I'm going to  fuck
you.   "  Doug had complete,   unadulterated sex appeal,  but he didn't seem to
recognize it.  And, of course, that made him ever sexier.

What  ever sex Doug had in those early years,  he never discussed.    He  dated
infrequently,  and I can't remember once when he talked about one of  his  many
admirers as a "great lay,  "  the way most of the guys did in the locker  room.
About  the  only sex we talked about was jacking off,  which we did  told  each
other we did frequently.

Aside  from his massive,  broad shoulders, what was most attractive about  Doug
was the way he wore his Levis and his skin-tight white t-shirt.  His upper body
tapered down nicely into a well-muscled mid-section and straight,  narrow hips.
He  had  an incredibly nice and well-formed butt that filled  that  faded  blue
denim like few I have ever seen.

He  gave  the appearance of having a great basket,  mostly because of  his  big
hairy balls t hat bulged in just the right place.   No question,  he could wear
Levis.

Since  we  spent every afternoon at practice,  we'd sometimes spend  the  night
together.   I had twin beds in my bedroom,  as did he.   When we'd  undress  at
night, Doug would strip down to his Jockeys and lay on top of the spread.

He drove me nuts.

Some nights, I'd lay awake for hours, fantasizing about what it would feel like
to play with those balls through his always clean white shorts.   Laying  there
on his back, I could see the outline, and I wanted to rest my face right in the
middle of it.

Of course, I'd get a hard-on for days, and would usually jack-off as quietly as
possible.   I didn't want him to know that I was jacking off and  those  damned
bedsprings  would  squeak loudly if I got too active.   So I was as  quiet  and
secretive as I could be.

Usually.   I shot my load into my shorts,  knowing full well that I had another
pair in my gym bag and could change in the morning.

After  I jacked off,  the need was supposed to go away.   But with Doug  laying
there,  his enormous basket staring me in the face,  I'd start over again.   It
was not unusual for me to cum three or four times in one night.

After our last season together,  the newspapers were the first to announce  the
all-city selection.   I made it!!! Although only second string.   Doug did not,
which really hurt me.

Hell,  he  had  been the primary reason for what success I  had  enjoyed.   And
without him,  I would have had none of it.   As happy as I felt for myself,   I
felt badly for him.

He was naturally disappointed, but concealed in very well in congratulating me.

We decided to celebrate with a night on the town.   Since neither of us was the
legal drinking age, of course we had to get some fake identification.  No small
task in those days.

We  discovered  through the grapevine that this one guy had a  Polaroid  and  a
full-proof  way  of copying just the right birth date on our  existing  drivers
license.  It looked and felt real.  We were ready.

We decided to go to a bar near the SC campus,  since I intended to enroll there
in the Fall.   It was a campus hangout and, we thought, a good prep for college
days  ahead.  Since neither of us drank that much,  the first  beer  went  down
slowly.   But that was followed by another,  and then another.   Before we knew
it, we were both higher than kites.

On the way home,  we stopped by the football field where we had shared so  many
good (and some bad) moments together.   Two drunks staggered into the middle of
the field,  putting our arms around each other and singing the old school song.
The night was warm,  but somewhat humid.   That strange mixture of warmth  that
can envelop a Southern California night.

It  was  when  Doug had his arms around me and gave me a big bear  hug  that  I
thought I felt a slight swelling in his crotch.

Could it be?

Naw, I was imagining things.  He represented everything that was straight,  and
regardless  of  how much I fantasized,  I would never get a look  at  his  dick
outside the locker room,  or through his shorts at home.   Besides,  I was half
drunk and so was he.

When we got home,  we went through our usual ritual:  big glass of milk in  the
kitchen, more talk in the family room, and time to turn in.

Like so many other nights, we walked into the bedroom, undressed and climbed on
top of our separate beds.

This night, however, Doug became unusually talkative after we turned the lights
out.   "When was the last time you jacked off,  "  he asked,  with his devilish
sense of humor.

"Oh,  a long time again,  "  I replied,  equally amused.   "Think it  was  this
morning in the shower.  "

I  thought  he'd turn over and go to sleep,  as he usually did,  but  with  the
alcohol breaking down his inhibitions, he kept on chattering.

"I  wish  Donna (his sometime date) were here tonight.   I'd grab  that  little
bitch by her bleached-out hair and shove her down on my cock,  "  he announced.
"I really need to get off."

I started to get hard at the thought of someone going down on him, wishing,  of
course, that I'd be the lucky guy who could do it.

"I  bet  she'd  really give my dick a good working over.   I  know  she's  been
staring at it for some time.  That silly little bitch, I know she loves me ass,
and she'd probably love to get down on here knees and suck me off,  "  he  said
laughingly.  "And I'm so goddam horny that I'd let her do it.  "

Looking  across  the bedroom,  I could see Doug rubbing  himself  through  this
shorts.  Now my cock was jumping through my shorts completely unrestrained.   I
s troked it progressively harder as I watched Doug playing with himself.

I thought about bringing up the subject of a mutual jack- off,   but restrained
myself.   As  much as I wanted this hot man,  and to share one of  life's  most
intimate  acts with him,  I did not want to jeopardize a friendship that I  had
come to depend on.

"Have you ever let a guy jack you off, "  he shot across the bedroom.   I froze
at the question,  wanting to answer and tell him how much I wanted him,  but  I
said weakly, "No, of course not.  Remember what happened to Bill?"

Bill  Talbert  had been one of our most promising young players  several  years
ago.   He was a tall,  lanky wide receiver who had speed to burn,  and  was  an
incredibly  nice guy.   He had a shock of uncontrolled blond hair  that  looked
like  a punker,  long before punks came on the scene.   And he had  that  warm,
friendly look of a mid-western farmboy who had just come in from the fields.

One day in the locker room, Dan Gordon had stood naked on the bench in front of
the lockers and announced he wanted someone to suck his dick.

Bill startled everyone by walking over in front of him,   deliberately kneeling
down  and taking Dan's enormous dick in his mouth.   Dan reponded by  thrusting
his  cock  in and out of Bill's mouth until he shot his load.   Also,  much  to
everyone's  surprise,  Bill  swallowed it.  Of course  this  little  exhibition
attracted quite a crowd.

After Dan shot his load, he looked down at Bill and growled,  "Get out of here,
you fucking faggot.  We don't all ow any queers on this team."

Bill looked completely defeated and walked out of the locker room with his once
proud demeanor completely destroyed.  We never saw him much after that,  and he
dropped off the team, then out of school.

I  didn't  want  that  to happen to me,  so I tried  to  ignore  Doug's  subtle
invitation to get him off.

"Come on,  guy,  " he insisted.  "There's nothing wrong with two friends giving
each other a helping hand.  "

Although I was scared as hell where it might lead,  I moved over to his bed and
sat  on  the  side.   I reached over and placed my hand in the  middle  of  his
waiting basket.  He moaned and started a slow,  thrusting motion that indicated
approval.

The  feel of that rock hard cock through his shorts filled me with   incredible
desire.  My own dick was as hard as I can ever remember it getting.

I  climbed  over on top of him and put my head between his legs,   rubbing  the
stubble  on  my face against the inside of his hairy thighs.    That  obviously
turned him on even mo re.   He grabbed me by the back of the head and pushed my
face into his basket.

I could feel his cock pressing against my face through his jockeys, threatening
to tear the clean,  white cotton.  I put my mouth over his long,  cloth-covered
shaft and star ted making motions with my mouth.

Now  his head was pressed back into his pillow and I could tell he was  on  the
verge  of cumming.   My first major clue ws when he froze for an instant,  then
let  out a low,  gutteral moan.   Then I could feel the first wet spot  forming
alongside the slot in his shorts.

Although it was dark in the bedroom, I could feel that wet spot growing in size
and circumference.  He had emptied his load inside his shorts and it was filled
with his hot, white manjuice.

I pressed my mouth against the spot,  stroking it with my tongue and sucking in
what I could.

He sank into a full-rest position and let out a, "Oh god, that felt good.  " By
now, with no contact whatsoever, I had unloaded everything into my shorts.  One
hot  gush after another filled them with what had been a three-day  buildup  of
cum.  They were soaked.

Now  I was terrified.   I had just jacked my best friend off with my mouth  and
had  swallowed part of the load that he shot.   I knew full well it could  mean
the end of our friendship.

He  would call me a fag in the morning, and reject me in the same way Bill  had
been driven off the football team.

I was totally ashamed of myself!  I had let my lust and passion interfere  with
one of best friends I ever h ad.  I started to leave.

Doug turned over slowly,  and even in the darkness, I could see that incredible
smile of his.   "I've been wanting you to do that for a long time,  "  he said.
"Do you have any idea how many nights we've spent together and I've lain awake,
just praying you'd come over and suck me off through my shorts?"

"That was hot,  and it sure doesn't mean we're queers.   It's just a matter  of
two friends getting each other off, "  he said emphatically.     "Yea,  I guess
you're  right,  "  I replied.   "Since there are no girls around,  we gotta  do
something to get ourselves off.  "

With  that,  he  put his big arm around me and hauled me  into  bed  with  him,
pressing  my  head against the side of his massive chest and giving me  a  warm
hug.

I  breathed  a sigh of relief.   At least it wouldn't be the "Oh my god  was  I
drunk" routine.

He  was  fully aware of what we had done,  and gave every  indication  that  he
wanted  to  do it again.   I fell asleep,  cradled under his big,   beefy  arm,
completely conten t and unafraid.   There would be no more tormented nights for
either of us.  And our friendship certainly took on a new dimension.




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