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Masturbating Bobby and John

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16 likes 8206 views Category: Masturbation Male-Male Tags: friend, jacking, mutual
I began masturbating with my friend Bobby...

I first masturbated with my friend Bobby, laying out on our beds in his room, during a sleepover. I watched as, lit by a flashlight, he stroked his hard penis, and I followed him in what he did. It felt so incredibly good, and then...oh my god!!! orgasm!!!! We were thirteen. We had sparse pubic hair, nor semen, no knowledge of sex. We loved how it felt, and did it every chance we got. We made plenty of chances on sleepovers, in a cardboard fort/playhouse in his basement stocked with lube and tissues, in bushes at the playground, and in his house, his bed, his room, his parents room, his living room...from a few to several times a week. A short time later, Bobby showed me little drops of semen that appeared when he climaxed. I tasted them. And I felt the short pubic hairs that began to appear between his legs. He showed me how he jacked off hanging from a chin-up bar and swinging his legs. And one night he let me do what I had wanted to do forever, it seemed, he let me jack him off, while he told me how it felt and just how to do it. I felt his cock do what I'd watched it do hundreds of times, grow hard and stiff and then orgasm. This time with drops of semen, my reward to taste. And then my family moved away. I spent the summer alone, with my dad, where he'd moved for his new job. He was gone all day, and I spent all day masturbating. Little drops of semen appeared, and hairs that grew longer. I tasted them. I jacked off the moment he left in the morning and all through the day, watching soap operas an masturbating to the women. I would go to the supermarket and when I came home, I would masturbate, thinking of the women I saw there. I learned to stay hard for a long, long time. I discovered the joy of my finger in my ass, and then more things, bigger, fuller. At night I lay in bed and silently masturbated using just the pressure of a finger, until I fell asleep. At the end of summer, we went back to my home town for a short visit, and I wanted nothing more than to jack off with Bobby again. We met up and went for a hike to a place in the bushes where we used to jack off at. I pulled down my pants and I was hard. I desperately wanted to see his cock again, a cock now surrounded by hair, just as mine was becoming. He looked at me and said, "What are you doing?" I said, "I want to jack off with you." "You're HOMO," he said, and turned and left. I was devastated. I didn't even mention masturbation to another guy through high school and until college, when I met John. I knew John in high school, though not well. When we learned we were accepted to the same college, we decided to room together in the dorms. John wasn't shy about his body. He would walk around the room naked. He was fit and compact and had a good looking cock, bigger than average with dense black hair. I masturbated at night, thinking about it. I never said a word, and pretended not to notice when he was naked, and all the while, dreamed of jacking off with him. I dreamed of holding his cock in my hand. After our first semester, our parents let us get an apartment together. We had more freedom. We became closer, and without the distraction of dorm life, settled into a rhythm. One day John actually talked about masturbation, and asked if I ever did it. "Now and then," I lied, afraid to let on that every night, every bath, every shower, I jacked off, often thinking of his handsome cock. I was paralysed to admit how much I loved to masturbate, and how much I yearned to do it with him. I looked at ads in the paper for strip joints, and wanted to go. So badly, that I told John. "Hey, let's go and see what it's like." He was up for it, and that weekend we went. I hardly remember the show, just the colored lights and surreal women who danced in them. I remember intensely John sitting next to me, and our ride home on the bus. Silent. We got home, and John got undressed and was walking around, as if to go to bed, but unsettled, distracted. And his cock was swollen. I took my clothes off to, as if to go to bed,but I sat on the couch instead. He came in, and I saw his semi-erection, and I became flushed, heart pounding uncontrollably, and then my cock began to grow, stiffen, and rise to an erection. I couldn't hide. Didn't want to hide. And was scared to death. John saw me. "I feel like masturbating. Do you?" "Yes." "Do you want some lube?" "Ok." He went to the bathroom came back, spread some lube on his hand and handed it to me. He sat down next to me on the couch and began stroking himself, glancing at me. I don't remember much else of what happened, except watching cum spurt from his cock, real cum, gobs of it, like I never saw with Bobby. That night, and the next day, I tried to be casual, afraid to show how totally, deeply I wanted that. I wanted to masturbate with John more and more and always. I couldn't hide though, and the next night as we ate some dinner, I blurted out, "Do you want to jack off again tonight?" My voice quavered, as hard as I tried to be casual. I was shaking. Ready to be rejected. Expecting it. "Sure," John said. We finished eating in silence, and went straight to the couch again, already hard and stiff when our pants came down. This time there were no short glances at each other, this time we watched each other stroking, and when I heard John moan my own orgasm came hard and fast, and we shot our cum together, messing the floor and the couch so much that John jumped up with a towel and, with cock dangling, wiped everywhere around me, and then along my thigh and belly. I was stunned, transfixed, my mind spinning with the thought that John had jacked off again with me and had even touched me. Oh my god!!! Every night for a week, found us on the couch, jacking together. And every night I dreamed of touching his cock, and every night I was too afraid to say or do anything. Until one night, John came naked into the kitchen as I was doing the dishes, and talked while I finished, before we went to the living room to jack off. Something came over me. I strode to the living room in a trance, and dropped my pants, then carefully took off my shirt and folded it. John was on the couch and already stroking. I sat next to him, and said,"Let me stroke you," as I reached out my hand and took his cock. I was in some other state, nervous, compelled, and more excited than I had ever been. I stroked him rapidly, nervously, and he came really fast in my hand. I felt like I hadn't pleasured him enough, and nervously began stroking myself, my hand wet with his cum. Then John reached over and began feeling my balls, and then my thighs, and then took my cock and gently brought me to orgasm!! "Wow," he said, "that was fantastic." We sat for a while. John said, "Wow, I never dreamed of this. Never imagined jacking off like this. It's so fantastic, so fantastic." I don't remember what I said. It was months before I told him about Bobby; by then we were jacking ourselves and each other daily, sometimes two or three times. I remember so many times leaving the house, my cock dribbling cum, wet and sticky, as I had hurriedly pulled up my pants and gone to class after cumming with John. At work, decades later, there appeared a young man, just out of college. We enjoyed each other's company and went out for a few beers after work. Older now, I'm less shy, but it was months before I mentioned masturbation. To my delight, Carl said he's a pretty regular jacker! Well, one thing led to another, and that night we went back to my place. He had never jacked with another guy before, but was eager to try. I suggested we strip naked, and we did. His body was lean and smooth, and his cock was long and straight, with light red hair around his balls. I had not been so excited in a long time as I felt then, seeing his naked body and erect cock! The evening was a success, and now Carl is a regular visitor to my house. He doesn't jack me often, but I'm delighted to hold his cock in my hand and, sometimes, in my mouth.

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