Kyle was amazing. He was tall, freckled head to toe, football type build but fit, short blonde to white hair and had a boyish face that took over my imagination during those late night sessions with my hands.
Thanks to his image in my brain, I learned to torture myself manipulating until I was almost ready to explode then stopped before it was too late. I heard my own voice begging him to let me do just that. And with my other hand, as if it were another person, I'd start again until I couldn't stand it. Then Kyle relented and let me ejaculate like a shower into the air....my sperm landing wherever it wanted to...as if Kyle was standing over me.
His thick legs spread and his freckled smiling face looking down on me, his best buddy, giving me what I needed to grow into a full man..his sperm all over me. But alas, that never happened for real.
Kyle and I were kids together, we shared gossip, learned to ride our bikes, complainted about teachers, endured report card days, summer camps, parental punishments, going to church, holidays and wrestling naked in the YMCA pool.
I was pissed off when the YMCA went co-ed. But I couldn't complain about it out loud.
Kyle like most of the other kids our age at the time, loved the idea of girls in revealing bathing suits parading around, let alone sharing the water that had nurtured our blossoming puberty.
I assumed he masturbated at night thinking of naked girls frolicking in that swimming pool as we had done for years.
Hell, we did more then frolic. We grabbed butt, balls and cocks too! We laughed at others when they got erections in the pool..and hid our own so we wouldn't be embarassed.
We walked to the locker rooms with our towels bunched up to hide the erections our fun with the other guys had created.
I remember one day in the shower, just standing there mesmorized by Kyles tall, full size naked body in the next shower. His buttocks were smooth with huge dimples on either side with cute little dimples above. I actually felt my own as if I were touching his.
Kyle asked me if I was ok..and why I was staring at him. I told him I wasn't I was just lost in thought. He bought that answer.
Another friend, not as close to me as Kyle, once asked me if I had a thing for Kyle. It was a casual question..and while I was astounded by the question, I remarked that Kyle was going to be one hot looking man when he grew up. Mark, the guys name, said I wasn't going to be bad myself. I blushed and he laughed.
I realized years later he was revealing a bit of himself to me and if I had been bright enough at the time, I would have had my first experience with another guy years before I actually did.
My first experience of any kind was eventually with Kyle. But my first mutual, lovemaking was years later in college..and not with Kyle.
By that time Kyle had transferred to another college with a football scholarship..and left me behind studying my computer science and psychology courses.
Mark never came into my life again after we left high school..though I clearly think about that conversation often these days.
Kyle was oblivious to my anguish. I knew that because he had me massage him now and then. He peeled off his shirt and shorts and lay on his stomach asking me to use some baby oil all over him.
The first time, I was nervous as hell. But when I realized he wasn't going to turn over and see the tent my shorts had become, it was ok. In fact, I looked forward to each and everytime. He did too, saying I had strong hands and that he trusted me.
OUCH...that alone kept me from daring to do anything he might think was sexual. How I wanted to reach under him...once, I even suggested he turn over but he just said "nah" that his back was enough.
By the time we were graduating, my massaging expanded beyond his back...I was working on his neck, arms, back, thighs, calves, feet and yes, his butt. Once I even poured oil down his crack and he giggled...I acutally wiped it out. He arched his back as if to say or do something but then relaxed as I proceeded.
It was our freshman year in college when I got bold. I had gotten one blowjob in the bathroom in the Arts Building and thought I was OUT now. But I was just as scared.
We had pizza and a few beers and Kyle came to my room and, seeing my roomies were gone for the weekend, he asked if I could massage him like I used to. He didn't wait for an answer but stripped naked...and I tried not to stare.
But I told him he had gotten hunkier..he smiled and said all the weight work and the season of freshman football did it.
I worked on his back as usual...feet too..and once again poured the oil in his crack. He didn't say or move as I wiped it with my finger. I thought I heard him sigh though.
My cock was hard as usual..and I decided to tell him to roll over. Usually he would say "nah" but that time he did it. As he did, he apologized for his hard on but said my hands were so good he couldn't help it.
When I said that was probably why he never turned over in high school, he blushed a bit and said yaw..commenting that it looked like I had my own problem.
I said the maybe he should massage me when I got through. He actually said "maybe so".
My precum was pouring out my slit as I worked him over..felt him and worked him feet to head..and back down again. I worked his chest and nipples. I moved his hands overhead so I could work his armpits.
Then I did another impromtu spread finger move down his chest to his crotch as if it were some exotic move. He asked me where I learned that..and I tried to sound non-challant as I said "here and there".
My fingers surrounded the ball sack I had often grabbed during our YMCA pool play years ago. He didn't object. I spread oil all over them, under them and up the thick penis that I had never touched..at least not like then.
He sighed and spread his legs a bit more. I knew he had given me permission to continue and I played with him the way I imagined he had played with me..working his cock until he was gasping then slowing down till he was relaxed.
"Christ go ahead and do it" he once said and I answered with a chuckle "when I'm ready..just lay there". I was in control of the man who had tortured me so many nights, I couldn't estimate the total.
I found places on his thighs that made him whimper...I reached under and poked my finger tip into his butthole and was pleased to hear him gasp...but not complain.
I worked on him until he was uttering little words like "please" and "do it" and "I need it" and calling my name....he wasn't fantasizing he was with one of those bimbos he had been dating. He knew where he was and with whom and what he wanted me to do.
Somehow I had found the time to yank off my own shirt and shorts too..and naked, hard and blood pumping hard I was working on my buddy until his sperm shot high into the air..splattering all over me and him and he lay there as if dead for quite awhile.
I said I'd get a towel but he moved quick saying he'd do it. He returned still naked wiping himself. Then, instead of giving the towel to me, he wiped me without a word.....like a lover taking care of his mate. Well, that's the way I wanted to think of it.
His next two words made my stomach knot. "lay down" he said and returned the favor for all the years of massaging, the years of friendship and the most recent hour of physical pleasure I had given him.
He told me to close my eyes or he couldn't do it. But I would peek just to see the naked hunk of my masturbation dreams above me, using his hands on me.
I realized he had never even rubbed my shoulders....and perhaps he was reliving some pre-pubescent fantasy he had had about me too..because he was really working on me..exploring and doing more the just immitating my massage moves.
His finger dove in to me as I lay on my stomach and he laughed at my groaning. There was no hiding my pleasure and I didn't want to.
"Maybe I should use you like a girl" he said and I wanted to beg him to do just that..even though he'd be the first. But I remained quiet.
I was his and he jacked me until I was begging him as he had begged me. He stopped once to play with me but continued before I had calmed down. I ejaculated all over us both.
Kyle pushed me back when I sat up to get the towel and wiped me as he had done before.
We didn't talk about it. But he didn't go to his own room with the other jocks that night. He said he wanted to crash there because I had wiped him out.
I didn't object and I didn't say anything when he got into my bed totally naked. I joined him and we talked awhile about things we did as kids and places we did.
He made my eyes water saying that tonight was the best time of all. And we held each other as we slept.
The following week was when he told me he had gotten a scholarship at another college and seemed thrilled..so what else could I do, I was thrilled for him.
And I cried that night..my hopes that our friendship was about to become something more dashed by the news.
We wrote over the years and I joined him and his family for holidays now and then in the years to come.
He visited me and met Darren, my lover. They got into a long argument about basketball so Kyle liked him..he told me so.
On the phone last week, Kyle asked me a question that made me hurt. "Do you guys ever do the massage thing like we used to?"
I hoped he was asking the question I wanted him to.
I lied when I answered saying "no". Of course I had done it often with Darren sometimes thinking of Kyle and eventually enjoyed it because it was Kyle.
So often in life, we think about what might have happened, if we did or said something different or at a different time.
One of these days, I'll ask Kyle about that..."what might have happened if..." But for now, that's only a fantasy....my love for Darren is reality.
Still, Kyle and I remain friends...maybe more.