DISCLAIMER:
This novella is a work of fiction. Any similarities with real life is of pure coincidence. This story contains homoerotic encounters between college age adults. Acts include masturbation, mutual masturbation and touching of male genitalia.
Copyright 2014 Max Millan
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No More Harness by Max Millian
Although slower, our commute back to our town went well. The sign said just another mile to our town. It hit me that I survived my first semester in college. I was relieved. My trepidation after graduating from high school were lifted. I was a college kid now. A badge of honor for small town folks. You were now the cooler older kid among your friends who were still in high school.
I saw Matt pulled into one of the diners scattered along the main road that lead to our town, so I followed. He must be hungry. I was too. It would be sometime before we could hang out again. A quick bite at the diner was a good idea before going on our separate ways. The early part of the break would be spent mostly with family that we haven't seen for a while. The diner was a familiar place. I'd been there before with my folks. Matt must be familiar with the place too that's why he stopped there. We walked into the diner and were greeted by a friendly old lady. She led us to our seat. When we sat down, the old lady recognized both of us.
"You're Bob's son, Matt, aren't you?" she asked Matt.
"Yes ma'am," Matt answered.
"And you must be Jim's," she said looking at me.
I also replied with "yes, ma'am."
"What a fine looking young fellows. Don't go breaking poor girl's heart," she teased.
"Joe does, not me," said Matt.
The old lady waved her finger at me.
"What happened to you?" she asked Matt.
"Dislocated my shoulder playing football."
"Sorry to hear that. Free apple pie after your dinner," she said trying to console Matt. "Must be hard with only one arm," she continued.
I chuckled which Matt saw. He kicked me in the shin underneath the table. I showed him my "ouch" face. Then the old lady turned to me.
"Behave. Your dad is so proud of you. He can't stop talking about you going to be a marine officer. That's all he talks about when he's here," she paused. "Sweet tea and chicken fried steak for both of you?"
"Yes ma'am," we replied in unison.
The old lady fetched our tea. The sweet tea was more like caramelized sugar dissolved in water to mimic the appearance of a regular tea. There's probably tea in there, . . . . somewhere, but I never figured it out for the longest time I was drinking southern tea.
"I'm gonna give you a call when my harness is coming off," Matt said. "My mom is petrified that I'm driving right now, but I don't want her driving me to the doctor. She gets too . . ."
"Much babying you," I finished his sentence.
The finger showed up once more.
"No, problem, . . . Don't forget to get your hunting license," I reminded him.
"Will not," he saluted.
The food was ready, and we finished it in no time then the free apple pie was served.
"Ma'am, we are ready to go. What's our damage?" Matt said to the old lady.
Out of the diner, I took a sniffed the cold air. I was home and my first college break just started. I walked Matt to his car to make sure he was fine driving. Driving along the highway was easier than driving inside the city. He would need to make several stops and turns. I had to make sure that he would not have any problem. After his assurance that he was fine, we exchanged a quick handshake and pat in the back. He got in, and put on his seat belt.
"You know it's still Friday night," he said smiling.
"Funny Matt," I said sarcastically as I checked if he had a hard-on.
He grabbed his cock through his pants and said, "look. It's ready to go."
I said, "take it out" calling his bluff.
"I'm just joking," he said.
"You started it," I replied.
We had another chat about the hunting trip and what he needed to get his hunting license. It was getting late and my folks might be worried that I was not home yet.
I gave his cock two light taps and said, "OK bud, have a safe drive."
We left the diner and drove home in opposite direction.
It's already midnight when I got home. My parents were sitting in the living with my brother and sister waiting for me. My dad's faced lit up when he saw me walked in.
"Here's my boy," he said and gave me a bear hug.
My mom was next. Then my two siblings were hugging the side of my legs.
"Did you eat yet?" my mom asked.
"I'm good. Matt and I stopped at the diner."
I sat on the recliner that my dad normally occupied which he didn't seem to mind. I took off my shoes and started massaging my feet.
"How's Matt?" my mom asked.
"He fractured his shoulder socket, so he's still wearing a harness." I replied.
"Oh that sounds bad," she said showing her concern. She knew Matt because he was a star player of our high school team.
"How about you? How's school?" she continued her questioning.
My little brother was back watching the TV, but my little sister was sitting on my dad's lap. Both of them were attentively following my conversation with my mother.
"I passed all my classes."
"Good to hear," she's now massaging my feet. She didn't care that they stunk a little because of the two day old sweaty socks that I was wearing.
"Have you decided on your major?" she asked.
"Yeah, Naval Engineering."
I heard my dad muttered what I said. He was probably trying to memorize the terms. My dad was brick laying contractor who took over my grandfather's business. It was the trade of the family. I was the first among the first born son to break the succession.
"I'm turning in for tonight. I'm tired," I told my family.
Except for freshly set of beddings, my room still looked the same the way I left it. I looked around and saw posters hanging on my wall. For some reason, they didn't seem right to me. It felt like they didn't fit in there anymore. It's funny how a short time being a college student diminished my high school sentiments. Things that I treasured then seemed to have become irrelevant. I pulled the posters one by one and crumpled them not out of disdain, but out of the sense of the future. It's time to leave some childish things behind. I slumped on my bed and fell asleep.
I was awaken by the familiar call for breakfast.
"Joe, breakfast is ready," I heard mom calling.
I went down and saw the whole family was already in the table.
"Good morning, college boy," my dad greeted me.
"Good morning," I responded in my still sleepy voice.
"You've grown," my dad said while rubbing the top of my head.
"Jim, leave him alone. He needs to eat his breakfast," my mom commanded which was immediately obeyed by my dad.
"Your uncle Joshua said he is grilling today. He wants you to come," my mom continued.
Uncle Joshua was the one who gave me his pickup when I went for college, so that afternoon I was hanging out with my uncle's family. He always claimed that he made the best steak in the family which was challenged by every male in the family. He retired from Air Force about five years ago, and was ever happy that another one from the family was going to enter the service. He liked to talk about his experiences when he was still in the active duty. When his wife was not looking, he would tell me where go for hanky-panky if I was ever assigned to a certain country.
The thing about grilling for show in the family was that it spread like a wild fire. For the next two weeks, everyone seemed to be throwing their own barbecue. Good thing because I'd been helping out my father laying some bricks. Nice steak after working hard was a welcome sight.
As the days go by, the novelty of a college boy back in town had almost worn off. My days were becoming less and less eventful.
My phone rung. It was a text message from Matt. "Asshole, why have you not message me?" it said.
I was preoccupied with my family and relatives that I almost forgot that I have a new best buddy in town. I messaged him saying I was sorry that I was busy with my family and relatives, and I was also helping my dad.
He replied, "no problem."
I browsed through my contact and found his number and called it.
"Hello, asshole," was his greeting.
"What's up?" I asked.
"You promised to take me to the doctor." he replied.
"When it's coming off?"
"Hopefully tomorrow if the X-ray is fine. I already told my mom you are taking me."
"I can do that. Why it took longer?"
"Don't know," he said. "I was just told a week more," he continued.
"I'll pick you up tomorrow then. What time?"
"One o'clock."
"See you then."
The drive to Matt's place was a stark contrast to mine. As you get closer to where he lived, the houses become more sparse and bigger. It's where most of the farmlands were located mostly medium size. Matt's dad was a farmer who owned a good chunk of land that he employed at least ten people. It's big enough that they were doing well, but not big enough not to feel any sudden problem with the year's crop. I heard that they could only get through one year of bad harvest, but after that, they were just as vulnerable as any small farmer. Matt's grandfather on the other hand was on different league altogether. He's what you call a plantation owner. He even had lands in South America. I arrived at Matt's house through an unpaved private road, he was already outside waiting. When he saw me pulling in, he ran to my pickup as if he couldn't wait to get out of there.
"Jeez, I almost ran you over," I told him.
"Did you have a hard time finding the place?" he asked while climbing into the passenger side of my pickup.
"Not at all. It's hard to miss the place since you guys put one of the biggest signs by the main road," I said.
He's feeling elated and looking fresh. He had his haircut, and his beard was nicely trimmed. I could tell that he's doing fine now because he wasn't favoring his right shoulder anymore although he was still wearing his harness.
"You seem to be moving your arm freely now, so why do you need to go the doctor?" I asked.
"Don't know. The doctor said something about making sure there is no bone scaring," he answered.
"What's that?"
"Don't know really. You can ask a nurse or somebody when we get there."
The doctor's office happened to be downtown. His appointment took about an hour. He walked out to the waiting room holding the harness with his right arm.
"Doctor said I'm good as new."
We got back into my pickup and still had time to spare.
"So what's the plan now?" I asked.
"Let me call mom then we can think about it."
The good thing about this specific stage of someone's life was that you were old enough to do many things, but really had no responsibilities that tie you down. So spur of the moment decision was not a problem.
"I'm free . . . . ." he declared after his quick phone call to his mom.
"What was that all about?" I asked.
"Oh Lord, I'm stuck in the house for the longest time. They will not let me go anywhere on my own."
"You really are the baby. Ha-ha."
He gave me his standard response, the middle finger.
"Let score some booze then go the hill," he suggested. Running his hand through his beard, he continued "maybe I can try out this beard."
We were back to our old trick of scoring booze from unsuspecting self check-out cashier. It didn't take long to procure ourselves two six packs then we drove to the hill. The hill was a famous hang out of high school students. If not for drinking, it's making out and sometimes when the stars line up, sex. A lot of healthy virile students lost their virginity in that place and probably some suffered the consequence of quick tryst with their unprepared boyfriend. I heard a few stories about students dropping out of high school rumored to have a person growing in their belly.
On the way to hill, we passed by Sheriff Buck. We waved at him, and he just waved back. I think the sheriff knew what's happening in there all along. That's why he hung out by the road that lead up to the hill. He never really busted anyone. Although, he would run you out if you try to stay well into the night.
During school break the kids don't normally show up. It's only when school was on that the place had regular visitors. In high school, there were normally one or two students among any group who had a ride. So when that person was gone during vacation, the group was harder to assemble.
Matt pointed to the location that he and his football teammates used to claim as their spot. It's a spot that overlooked the town no wonder it's a priced location. I backed my pickup to the spot. We got out with our score of the day in hand. I lowered the tailgate, so we could sit on it while surveying the city below.
"So how many girls you brought here Matt?" I asked Matt in jest.
I didn't hang out in this place when I was in high school. Although I knew Matt then and watched some of his games, I was with the group that looked at jocks as bunch of losers probably the same way jocks saw the other students. They were the cool crowd, so we avoided them as much as possible. Shopping malls were our hang out of choice. It sounded lame but the arcade was a busy spot too.
"Me, on my own?" he answered.
"So did you get to ball someone here?"
"Made out and a hand job that's all," he grinned. "I was with the team normally sneaking out for some beer."
"How about you? Did you take that girl Beth here?" he asked.
"Hell no, we avoided this place because you guys hung out here."
Crushing his empty beer can, he asked, "what do you mean by that?"
"To tell you honestly, we didn't like your group. We think you guys were full of it."
"Ouch, I'm hurt," he pretended to be offended.
"Not you in particular, doofus, just a few peeps in your group," I said.
"So what happened to her anyways?"
"She went to another college. I heard she's already seeing some dude without even dumping me," I said.
"That's too bad," he said.
"How about you, what happened to your girlfriend in high school?" I asked.
"Which one?" he grinned again.
My eyes rolled and said, "yeah right, lover boy."
"Well, I was hanging out with one girl at the beginning of my senior year then another one at the end. I mean neither one of them was really my girlfriend. They're just sticking with me."
I was not entirely surprised of what he said because I'd seen it. You see the three day rule about not having sex before game which Matt apparently followed like a good team player when they're back from an away game, there was this one girl who would knock on our door asking if Matt was there. If Matt was there, they would just disappear for about an hour or two and Matt would come back with his after sex aura. The bastard had a hook up just for the purpose of him getting relieve of his sexual frustration. The girl supposedly was renting an apartment with her boyfriend, but she would sneak out to have sex with Matt. Matt said that they would sometime do it in their apartment but mostly in our room as one of his "gimme 30s". There was this another girl who also like to be balled by Matt, she much easier because, on time when Matt wasn't in the room, I told her that I was the one available, and she had sex with me. Maybe she wanted me to put some good words to Matt for her. When Matt learned about it, he said "I can't stand her. She's like stalking me."
I spaced out a little bit recalling my first semester with Matt.
"Earth to Joe," I heard him say. He must have said something that I wasn't responding to.
"I was just telling you I lost my virginity to a senior when I was a freshman," he continued.
"Get real," I said thinking that he was just trying to sound cool.
"For real, she was like baby talking me how cute I was every time she saw me. I was so embarrass, but one day, I got the courage to tell her if she wanted to make out. That's how it started."
I told Matt, "stop that, you're making me remember your shenanigans."
"What? Are you getting a stiffy?" he joked.
I said, "well, . . . yeah" then laughter. "Grab me another beer, will yah?" I told him.
We continued our conversation about high school. We really didn't know much of what both of us did when we were in high school. I learned a few things about high school from his point of view, and he learned about from my side. We somehow filled in the blanks to complete our whole picture of what a high school life was like. It was a fun and exciting time after all.
We just finished our first six pack when we heard a car pulling in. It was Sheriff Buck.
"Are you doing things that you shouldn't be doing?" he shouted from the police car.
"No Sheriff Buck. Just reminiscing high school," I shouted back while Matt hid the last six pack.
The sheriff knew. "You better get going. It's getting dark," he replied.
"We're just about to leave," I said.
On our way back to his house I asked him about the hunting trip. "Did you get your hunting license yet? We're probably going the next weekend."
"About that, I already told my mom about it but I haven't gotten the license yet," he said.
"Don't wait 'til the last minute," I warned him.
"Well, I was hoping you can come with me tomorrow if you are available to help me pick one up."
"I still should be helping dad with his work, but he wouldn't mind if I don't show up," I said.
"OK then, I'll pick you tomorrow," he said.
"Come around noon and join us for lunch. I think mom will be happy to see you," I told him. "Get ready though, she will have a lot of questions."
"Will remember," he saluted which seemed to be his response whenever I suggested something or gave him an instruction.
We arrived at his house. I went inside with him, and was greeted by his mom and dad. His older siblings were all married and living in another state, so his parents where happy to have some company. We talked about the hunting trip, and his dad asked me which rifle should Matt bring. His dad has quite a few rifles available for the choosing. I told him the Remington should be the best option. And his dad said, "good call."
Matt saw us discussing the rifle choice and he said, "Dad, I'm taking the Remington."
"That's what we just agreed upon," I said.
"Oh, OK," he said. "I'm bringing this one too," he added while swiping a hi-tech looking scope.
"That's cheating," I said.
"Nah, they made it. I'll use it," he said.
Once his the implement of deer destruction had been chosen. We could hear his mom calling us for dinner. I respectfully declined the offer not to offend my own mom, who always made sure that dinner was ready for everyone at home. It was her only time of the day that she could see all of us at once, and she treasured every moment of it.
I said my goodbyes for the night. On my way out, Matt said, "text me the website. I'm gonna give my right arm a test drive."
"Sure bud," I said. "Don't overdo it. You might injure it again," I joked.
"I'll make sure to switch hands," he responded while giving me a demonstration.
"I think you are fine."
"I am. Thanks for driving me to the doctor."
"No problem. See you tomorrow then."
The next day Matt was earlier than expected which was a good thing because mom had run of questions by lunch time.
"Can you boys swing by Jim work and drop this off?" my mom said handing us dad's lunch.
Dad current project was on the way to Walmart, so it wasn't a big hassle for us. We got there and chatted a little bit with my dad. The project was going well. He had to put veneer around the house. He temporarily hired two helpers of which Matt and I thought of as persons with questionable status. He didn't seem disappointed that I was running around town and not helping. I told him we were going to get Matt a hunting license. He let us go on our way.
The application for the license went without a problem. Matt drew a license to shoot bucks for the year. I hated mine because I got does for the year. We proceeded to get Matt some camping gear. Matt seemed to have no sense of proportion of what your regular camping means. He's probably thinking that it was like a safari or something. He bought a family size tent and two cots. I would be sharing the tent with him. I normally brought my one person tent and sleeping bag. But a cot would be a welcome change. We won't be too much out of place since my uncle would be bringing his two boys and probably be using something similar. We were set.
"So where are we up to now?" he asked.
"Let's score some booze and go to the hill again," I proposed excitedly.
"We can hang out at our house. My dad said that we shouldn't sneak out to drink. We can drink at home," Matt said.
"That sounds like a good idea."
"Let's get some movies."
We browsed for some DVDs and picked two that we both liked then we drove to his house. Their house has a walkout basement that had been converted to an entertainment area. Unlike most basements theirs had glass wall that runs through the entire length of the house, and dual sliding door that leads to a covered patio and backyard that was carved out from the slope that slowly lead to a creek. At one end was Matt's oversized room. In between was the bar area with a vintage looking pool table decorating the middle of the room. The liquor cabinet was left unlock. The mini-refrigerator has been stocked with beer. Matt was almost at a drinking age, so his parents were no longer opposed to him drinking. The other end was the viewing area. It had a projector and four reclining chairs – the fancy kind – that were arranged in an arc.
"Which one should we watch first?" he asked.
"Let's watch mine," I said. It's a war film a little predictable from me.
I looked at the bar and said, "so we can drink any of this?" I asked with some excitement.
"Yeah, but not the Jim Beam. That's dad's," he said.
In no time, we were salivating at the choices we had. We tried out a shot of tequila, and we were cursing it after. So we settled for the beer at the moment. The movie was starting, so we took our seat.
"Are you boys doing fine down there?" I heard his mom from the basement door.
"Yes, mom," Matt replied.
"Don't get too drunk," she said.
"Yes, mom," he shouted and we both laughed because we knew we would.
Not long after his mom came down with a bowl of freshly cooked popcorn and a plate of mini-hotdogs.
"Me and dad are going to Frank's, so clean up after yourselves please," his mom said.
Matt said, "yes, mom" then shoved a mouthful of popcorn.
Frank owned a winery and his restaurant had been a gathering place of well-known people of the town. He had a wine tasting party once a month, and Matt's parents were regular invitees.
The upstairs had gone even quieter that the occupants were already away.
I was still wondering why Matt ended up attending a small time college when it looked like they could afford to send him to more popular college in the country.
"Matt, why are stuck in our school?" I asked.
"It's close," he replied.
"Seriously, why not go to Michigan State or UCLA or something?"
"Why? You don't like me anymore, so your trying to kick me out," he answered as if he's trying to avoid answering my question.
The answer to my question was revealed in pieces during our many other conversations. The gist seemed to be that his parents sent his sisters to well-known colleges that by the time they got to him, his parents were really almost out of money to send another one to an expensive college. True that his grandfather can afford to send him to any colleges or even to an Ivy League school. But it was probably something that Matt declined for reasons that I had no business to stick my nose into. I think he really just wanted to strike on his own.
"Matt, can I check out your room?" I asked out of curiosity.
Giving me his permission, he said "go ahead."
The boy was spoiled I must say. His room was huge. It went deeper up to the front of the house if you trace it's size. He had a king size bed in the middle, and his own entertainment area at the farthest end of the room. Treadmill and other workout equipment decorated the other end close to the glass wall which also acts as the only window.
"Wow, your room is a house," I said in amazement.
He didn't say anything probably embarrassed that it was. Prompted by his non-response, I went back to the viewing area. He's sitting comfortably watching the movie, sipping on his beer, and his jeans undone so he can slipped his hand in like he always did when watching TV in the dorm. I sat down and reclined my chair all the way like him.
"Sweet! We need one of these in our room," I said.
He looked at me and said, "we can take the ones in my room."
"Cool, can we?"
"Those used to be here. If you promise to help me, we can haul them in your truck."
"Deal."
I extended my hand to his direction. He pulled his hand out of his pants. I moved my hand to replace his just like what did before. I found the base of his cock, and almost like ritual now, I encircled it with my fingers. This time though he moved his hand towards my groin area and started massaging my hardening cock. He could tell that I was straining in there. He leaned over to undo the buckle of my belt then unzipped my pants to give him easier access, but he found my boxer to be on the way.
"Jeez, you should just go commando like me."
I pulled out my dick and balls through the slit of my boxer. My cock was now in the open. He completely unzipped his pants, so I could take his cock out too. This was the first time that he touched my cock to actually play with it, and my cock responded accordingly when he wrapped his big hand warm hand around it.
"Your hand feels good," I said when he proceeded to stroke it slowly.
I saw Matt giggled a little while he carefully looked at my cock and said, "that how it goes."
"What are you laughing about?" I asked.
"Just looking at your foreskin sliding up and down the head of your cock. How does it feel?"
"Feels good."
"Does it give you more pleasure?"
"A little. It's extra sensitive."
"Must be nice when you get a blow job."
"Sure is."
He stood up to get two cans of beer and gave one to me. We sat back and reclined to catch up with what was going on with the movie occasionally stroking our own cock just to keep them from getting soft. When we were both satisfied with the stiffness, we would just let our cocks lay on our stomach just giving extra nudge when needed. My shirt kept on rolling down to head of my cock, so I just promptly took it off. Matt saw me and did the same thing.
"Did you start working out again?" I asked.
"Not yet. I'm still feeling lazy," he replied turning sideways a little while flexing his muscles a little.
"You still look tight," I said.
"I told you, it's muscle," he said while showing off his big biceps. "You still need help with chest and leg workout?" he asked.
"Yeah, are you going to help me?"
"Sure, I've learned some tricks from our trainer."
After a little bit of some muscle flexing from each other, we both went back to watching the movie and emptied more cans of beer. I glanced at Matt admiring his big chest that was lightly dusted by short blond hair in the middle. Mine was just plain smooth. When he caught me checking him out, he just smiled then twitched his cock up and down when he was sure I was looking at it. I extended my hand to reach for him and massage his cock with the palm of my hand then just hold onto to it. Matt also extended his hand and rested it on my cock just giving it a slight rubbing. The good part of the movie we spent just feeling each other. Matt would stand up from time to time to fetch us new cans of beer then our hands just went directly to each other waiting cocks.
The movie was wrapping up when I heard Matt said "do you still wanna learn how to control my cumshots?"
"You're out of your harness. Do I still need do?" I replied. Although I didn't mind continuing our special arrangement, I like to see his reaction.
"Well, there's no point showing you if you are not going to use it," he said. He was also gauging me.
"OK, you win. I wanna see it," I conceded. "But you know you are going to pay," I said making him know what he was getting into.
"I can't wait," he replied.
Damn! He was beating me again. I let it slide. To show my agreement I started stroking him slowly to get him hard. Matt said that it's time to get more comfy, so I got out of my pants and helped him out of his. Sensing that we were both ready with our extra-curricular activity, I commented if we should we be doing it here. His parents might come back.
"Oh, don't worry about that. This is only one of the few times when they get to hang out with their friends. They won't be back 'til later in the night and very likely to just turn in." He went to his room, and came back with his jar of Vaseline.
He kicked the divider that's normally used to hold beverage between our recliners to make it easier for us. We pushed the two recliners that we were close together and took our spot. He spread his right leg towards the foot of my recliner, so I had no choice but to put leg over his.
"Ready?" he asked.
"Whenever you are?" I replied.
"Wait a sec." He stood up and fetched extra cans of beer and placed in the recliner wedge that we just moved. "No reason to get up once we get going," he said grinning. He sat down and splayed his legs once more.
Matt spread some lube on his cock until his hand was gliding easily throughout the length of his cock. He handed me the lube, and I applied some on mine. Matt was looking intently waiting to see if I was satisfied how my hand slid up and down my cock. Matt's hand was ready holding the base of my cock ready to take over just waiting for me to let go it.
When I reached for him, I felt the warm strokes of his hand. "Look! Matt. Your hand is on my cock," I joked.
He gave me the finger with his other hand without missing beat. His big warm hand felt good wrapped around my manhood. The sensation I was feeling was exactly what I imagined. By the way Matt was stroking my cock, and the intentional twist when his hand reached the head of my cock made me smiled. He must have noticed it that he started playing with my balls with his other hand.
We decided to finish the movie. It's a waste of good movie if we didn't which really was just our way of saying that we both wanted to extend our mutual exploration longer. We were there laying comfortably on the recliner stroking each others cock. We would look at each other from time to time then just smile.
"How's my stroking, bud?" he asked while he was twisting his hand over the head of my cock.
I gave out a moan and said, "feels good."
He had seen me jack off many times before, so he had the idea on what I like when I stroked my cock. The amount of precum I was producing cannot hide the fact the feeling of Matt's big hand on my cock made me feel. Honestly, I was waiting for the time when he finally returned the favor. Seeing his hand gliding up and down my cock was giving me more excitement that usual. I was now moving my legs in response to the movement of his hand. The warmth of his big strong thigh as I my own rubbed over his was giving me an extra sensation that I haven't felt before.
"Buddy keep stroking my cock," I kept on telling him.
The movie was about done. Matt was now once again meeting my downward stroke with his hip. We had settled into a good stroking rhythm that the noise of the movie had been replaced by our sometimes synchronized moans and grunts. I was the first one to succumb to sensation and told him I that couldn't hold back anymore. He gave me his approval to shoot my load. I grabbed onto his hand and started thrusting my cock through his fist. He held his hand loosely to give me control over my orgasm. Two drops of cum flew and landed on my stomach, and my spams continued, and I deposited the rest of my juice on his hand. Once I caught my breathe, I switched to stroking his cock with my right hand while he held onto my softening cock.
"Get me close and I'll take over," he instructed.
Like I did many times before, I gave his cock full length strokes while his hips move up and down opposite of my hand direction. When I get to orgasm my legs become restless. Matt, on the other hand, his legs become stiff. Looking intently on his cock being stroked as the sensation built up, he let out bursts of aaaahhhs.
"Oh bud, keep stroking. Make it feel good," he said between his moans.
"Let me take over," he said and took his still cum soaked hand off my cock and took over. He leaned back his head and continued the full length strokes although slower than my pace. "At least, I got that one right," I said to myself. Matt was a slow stroker as it turned out. He started giving out burst of "aaahhs" which signaled his coming orgasm. He pointed his cock towards his chest and the first stream shot out then he gave the upper part of his cock two quick strokes then the next stream shot pass his shoulder then another quick strokes then another stream landed on his chest. Three more streams hit his chest. He switched to just stroking the base of his cock and four more shorter spurts from his twitching cock hit his stomach. He resumed his normal strokes to squeeze the rest of his cum which oozed out of his cock.
I was looking at him amazed at how much cum came out of his nuts in just one orgasm then just took over slowly stroking his cock while he was trying to catch his breathe. Once his breathing was back to normal, he looked at the mess he made and said, "did you get all that?" winking at me.
I'd seen him spews his loads many times and always pointed out how much cums. "Wow Matt, where did that come from?" I asked while looking at the strings of cum decorating his torso. They were not just drops of cum but strings of cum covering his body.
He just laughed it off.
I think the term was piss cummer to describe guys like him.
"Matt, it might involve many practices to get that timing right," I joked.
"You got plenty of time to get it right," he replied.
"I don't think they make condoms that can hold that much jizz."
"Surprisingly they do just need to be careful though. I pull out while my cock is hard. If I wait, some of the cum will get to the shaft and makes the condom slippery," he said while spreading the mess on his chest with his finger.
"Yeah, that will be bad if you have an accident. Dude, you have enough cum to repopulate Earth."
"I still have plenty if you wanna go at it again," he said.
"I believe you."
But that wasn't to be the case. The scent of alcohol was calling us. We went to the shower and took our turn washing off the mess we made. We just put on our shirt and spent the rest of our free time half naked. We went to the bar area and had another discussion on what to try next. We took a shot of whiskey, and poured some rum. Matt turned on the stereo to play some music. The stake was raised when we decided to shoot some pool and whoever lose would have to take a shot of tequila.
As the night go by, the alcohol was kicking in. Matt was now dancing trying to make his dick flap side ways and thrusting his hips mimicking the motion you make when you penetrate someone doggy style.
"What the heck are you doing?" I said then we did our synchronized doggy style dance.
In my drunken stupidity I challenged him for a wrestling match. It wasn't too long when I was tapping out and then when we wasn't looking I tried to tackle him which just ended me being pinned down again begging to be let out of my misery. Then we found ourselves naked outside having a contest on who could stay out in the cold longer. I said it was a stupid idea and gave him another win. Some more trips to the bar and our mission to get drunk was accomplished easily.
When the threat of the impending complete alcohol invasion of my head was near, I suggested that "we probably should put our clothes on. It will be hard to explain if your parents saw us passed out naked."
"Good idea," he replied.
So we did. Matt fetched a used towel from the shower and threw it at me. The recliners required some wiping. We put them back in place, and I sat down and reclined my chair. Being gifted with the ability to pass out instead of getting sick when excessively drunk that was the last thing I remembered as I drifted to sleep.
The next day I had a dose lecture from my parents about drinking. Matt's parents called them yesterday and told them that Matt and I were probably going to drink when their out for the night. My dad was not as adamant about me not drinking at my current age as my mom. He just wanted me to be careful, and my mom was just being a mom. "A trip to jail could jeopardize many things," he said.
For the rest of the week, to get back to their good side again, I helped out dad with his project. He was finishing his third contract of the month which was a good month for us. My mom worked as a check out clerk at a near by grocery store to help out with the finances. We were getting by. In the middle of the week, I got a call from my uncle. He said that they would be at the campsite early Saturday and not Friday afternoon like they always did. He was going to wait for my other cousins who were driving from another state. Although most of the campsites were preassigned, my uncle insisted that I should go there and claim our spot Friday afternoon. I sent Matt a text about the situation.
Friday came, I picked up Matt from his house. We loaded our new camping gears. A quick trip to the store to score some beer and food then we're on our way to the campground. The place was already busy with other campers setting up for the night. After a few more minutes of driving, we arrived at our camping site. It was nicely located at a patch of land that extended out to the lake. The fire pit needed some wood. So I told Matt to pitch the tent while I collect some wood before dark.
"I assume you can figure out how to set up that tent."
"I'll figure it out . . . somehow," he answered.
As it turned out the tent was not as hard to setup as I thought. It's pre-assembled. You just need to extend the top part and add the supporting poles. Secure it to the ground and you are done. When I unloaded the first batch of my wood haul, the tent was already standing up and Matt was just putting in the canopy stretchers. By my second batch, he was securing the tent to the ground. He probably knew how to set one up before based on how automatic he's been pitching the tent, and I thought I had the better deal. I still needed few more trip to have enough burning wood for the night.
"Finding some good wood," I heard from behind me. "I have a wood," he continued.
"You're funny, Matt" I turned around to look at him, and he was carrying a piece of firewood.
"What are you thinking I'm talking about?" he joked.
"Stop being crazy, and find some before it gets dark."
We had plenty by the time we were done. I checked out the tent. The cots were unfolded by the longer sides of the tent, and our stuff were neatly placed at the end on what looked like the floor liner. Since we were not going to sleep on the ground, he left the ground bare. The best part was that we have enough head room so we could stand inside the tent. We unzipped the window and the front flap to air it out. The new smell was overwhelming my nose.
"This is nice," I said while trying out one of the cot.
"You better get use to it. You might be sleeping in one of those for the rest of your life," he said joking.
"That's not funny," I replied.
"Why?" he asked.
"Do you know that if I have to sleep in one of these that means I'm very likely deployed somewhere dangerous," I warned him.
"Then don't get killed," he replied showing a little bit of concern.
"I won't. I promise," I said gaving him some assurance.
"I don't think that cot can support you, Matt." It's my turn to make fun of him.
"Screw you. I slept on one of these before," he replied as he cautiously slumped on the cot. It was not long enough that his feet were left hanging at the end.
The night was fast approaching, and the wind had already shifted that the smell of the forest was replaced by the musty lake smell. Matt and I put on our camouflage coveralls and started the bonfire. The creaking of the burning wood had now replaced the sound of the crickets. The moon was showing half of it's face, and it's light was gently reflected by the ripples of the lake as the fog rises because of early winter cold. The lake was now littered with flickering lights. There were several campers on the other side of the lake. You can sometimes hear their shouts and loud laughs carried through the cold winter night.
Matt came out of the tent carrying our folding chairs and dinner. It would be pork and beans and a loaf of bread. He opened two cans of beer and handed one to me. We opened our dinner and set it by the fire to warm it up. When it was ready, we poured them into a paper bowl. Using the bread as spoon, we devoured it like it was the last meal we were going to eat. It's not the best, but it would do for now. Tomorrow would be much much better when my uncle took charge of cooking. My feet were starting to hurt, so I went to the tent to remove my boots and changed to my flip-flops then dashed back to the fire. The warmth of the bonfire felt good on my feet. The fire would be enough to keep my feet from freezing.
Matt lit the bug repellent torch behind us then sat on his chair. We sat staring at the opposite side of the lake watching the campfires that dotted the opposite side of the lake.
"How's the smell of the tent by the way?" I asked.
"Much better now. But your boots stink."
"It's called man's smell."
"Nope, they just stink."
I went back to the tent to prove that it's not, but it was. So my boots went out the tent. I caught him laughing.
"I swear I'll get you back," I warned him.
"Is that a threat?" he asked.
"Maybe," I replied while I sat back down to my chair.
"I'm bigger than you."
"Matt, there are many ways to get back at you."
"Oooh, I'm scared."
"You know you are a handful when you're around," I said.
"Thank you, it is a handful, isn't it?" he said and winked at me.
"Yeah, it is. I won't lie." I paused then said "pretending to be helpless." I was pushing him to spill it.
"I wasn't pretending. You saw the X-ray."
"I call shenanigans."
"Well, at least for the first week," he admitted.
I looked at him and he responded with a big grin. "Give me another one you sneaky bastard," I said while I threw my empty beer can at him.
"Stop that!" he said while trying to evade the incoming projectile which still hit the top of his noggin.
"Are you trying to injure me again?"
"I might as well." I paused and said, "really? So you were able to do it on your own all along?"
"Um, . . . . yeah," he said with his wide grin again.
"Well?" I said asking for some explanation.
"I wasn't planning for it. I just thought it would be cool if we don't have to jerk off in secret anymore."
"True, but yours is not so secret anyways. You stink up the room when you leave your stained shirt in your hamper." I said in agreement.
"Ooops! Sorry about that."
Then I asked him about the time he asked me to touch him, "but what about the extra thing you asked for?"
"That, no reason at all. It just felt like it's OK."
"Well that's true too. It would have happened eventually anyways," I said. "At least I got a new toy," I said laughing at him.
"Suddenly, I feel so cheap," he replied.
"But you are, and I'm planning to collect on that lie one of these days," I said.
We continued on drinking and talking about the last semester. It seemed like yesterday when he saw me lining up to register for my classes. The chance of my dorm doing an unscheduled renovation and him looking for a new roommate was a nice coincidence. We knew a lot of people in our high school, but we never really had what you can call our best friend among them. Matt and I connected at that level.
The bonfire was dying down, and we were down to our last can of beer. We would have plenty more tomorrow once my uncle show up. I got up and pee on the fire then Matt got up to relieve himself. However it wasn't enough to put out the fire, so a quick trip to the lake for a bucket of water was needed. We put out the torch and went inside the tent. The moonlight was filtering inside that we didn't need to use a lamp. The alcohol made the cold night a little bearable. Matt took out a portable heater and turned it on. He slowly lay down on his cot trying not to topple it or wreck it or something. I was laughing when I saw what he was doing. I slipped into my sleeping bag with no problem and try to get some sleep. After several minutes I was still awake. The newness of sleeping in the cot wasn't helping, and it was just ten at night. It's not my usual bedtime.
"Matt, you still awake?"
"Yeah, I feel like I might fall while sleeping."
"Ha-ha, I think you should be fine. You hardly move when you're asleep."
"You can't sleep too?" he asked.
"It's too early for me to go to sleep. I guess."
My body just wanted to stay awake even the alcohol wasn't enough to get me to fall asleep. It's like one of those days when you were so tired but you just toss and turn the whole night.
"You wanna kill some time?" I told him.
"What you have in mind?" he asked.
"I have a boner right now. How about you?" I said.
"I'm jerking off," he said with a naughty giggle.
I looked at his direction. The moonlight was enough that I could tell how his hands were moving in his sleeping bag.
"What are you waiting for? Move your cot over here. I let you use my hand again," he insisted.
I moved my cot right next to his. He unzipped his sleeping bag. He was already halfway out of his coverall wearing a blue shirt and no lower undergarment like always. His cock was in full mast.
"Right pocket of my camping bag," he said.
I searched his bag and came out with a small jar of Vaseline.
"You came in prepared," I said.
"I'm a boy scout, always ready," he replied.
"More like always horny,"
"It's a legit survival supply," he countered.
"Yeah, if you are an avid survivalist, but coming from you, it's a different ballgame," I countered.
"I have the feeling I have to put up with you," he said in defense.
"Really? You might regret what you are asking for," I warned him.
"Well, show me then," he said.
I unzipped my coverall and copied him. I slipped by upper body out of the coverall then handed him the jar. He proceeded to apply some lube on his cock.
"Why are you still standing there?" he asked while stroking with his left hand and tapping on my cot.
I slipped inside my sleeping bag and lay down on my cot. His right leg find its way inside my sleeping bag under my left leg. He scooped some lube and kneaded into his palm. Instead of going for his cock, he grabbed mine and tested it out until his hand was gliding easily on it.
"Take your hand off my toy," I told him.
"Sir, yes sir," he said and took his left hand off his cock.
I wrapped my hand around his cock then gave it a few fast rough strokes.
"Hey, hey, be careful," he blurted out. I saw him jumped up a little bit. I laughed. "Jerk," he said
"Ooops, sorry," I said pretending to be apologetic. "I'll be nice. I promise," I continued. "I guess it's time to practice your cum shots timing."
After applying the necessary amount of lube on his cock, we relaxed and just stroked each other taking our time. Our chit-chat was centered around how our hand felt on our raging hardon. We tried several hand positions to see which felt better. We both agreed that the traditional grip was still the best. The alcohol was wearing out a little bit which helped me regained more of my sensation. I grabbed Matt's hand and started thrusting my cock in his hand. He loosen his grip a little so my cock could glide easier in his hand. I shot my load in no time.
"Good one?" he asked while he inspected the mess that was on his hand.
He put his arm over my shoulder and said, "my turn."
I switched to stroking his cock with my right hand. It wasn't long before he was heaving and giving out his familiar grunts when he's about to spew his load. When the first string of cum flew out I felt his hand grabbing my shoulder. A quick jerk and the next one came out. Every time he's about to squirt I felt his hand grabbing my shoulder. Then like what he did, I massaged the base of his cock to let the rest of his juice out. Few more shorter squirts and he said, "you can stroke it again now." Then he finally came down from his orgasm as few more drops oozed out of his cock. I propped myself up to check if I got it right. Amazingly the cum streaks on his blue shirt mostly landed I between his chest and some on his navel.
"Wow, just wow buddy, the timing was perfect. Best one you gave me yet," he said giving his approval.
"I think I want another one if you don't mind."
"No problem. Just tell me when," I replied.
"Give me like 15 minutes."
"Your a fast learner," he said as he started stroking me again. "You also going for seconds?" he asked.
"Probably not. I'm good."
"Sure?"
"Yeah, I'm good."
We lay down for bit to recover. I kept rubbing his inner thigh and waiting for his semi-hardon to respond. He wiped his hand on my shirt. It was too late to complain. He put both of his hands behind his head, and laid on them. He was now responding to my touch, so switched to stroking again. It went a little longer this time before he surrendered his juice. It wasn't as massive as the first one but just equally impressive how much he could unload. After a quick inspection, we did good. No more mess everywhere.
He said "thanks bud" every time I helped him out. After cleaning my hands we were ready to call it a night. One of the ROTC instructors showed us that you can connect two sleeping bags together for a reason that I still did not know. I suggested it to Matt which he had no problem with. The extra warmth from our bodies made it easier to fall asleep
The next morning, I was already up when my cousins and uncle showed up early. I had water boiling for our morning coffee. After saying hi and hello, I went back to the tent to fetch Matt to help unloading their stuff.
"Matt, get up." I called from the opening flap of the tent. He wasn't sleeping just feeling lazy. "Don't forget, you unloaded twice last night," I warned him just in case he was drunk to remember.
He looked at his shirt and was impressed by his work.
"My folks are here. Let's help them with their stuff, so we can go hunting after lunch."
Everyone were now busy setting up their tents, and my two younger cousins were tasked to catch some fish for lunch. Even at the age of 10 and 12, both were already adept at fishing. My two older cousins were already wearing their hunting camouflage. They claimed to be avid outdoors men, but they weren't really good at it. They would go hungry if they were not packing any can food. My two younger cousins would probably out survive them if they were all sent to out into the wild. The tents were up, and my uncle restarted the bonfire in no time. Matt and I put on our boots and got ready for the hunt.
"People lunch is ready," my uncle shouted.
There were potato salad and soda on the picnic table. The fish that my cousins caught were skewered and ready for the fire. We each picked one and cooked it. Some lime and salt and our lunch was ready.
"Where are we hunting this time?" I asked my uncle.
"I think we are going to one of the islands," he replied. "The ranger had a request from the tourist office to get rid of some of the deer. We can keep one deer and the heads, but the rest of the kill will have to go to the food bank."
During a good trip we would probably down one or two deer. Unless you want to take home your kill, the ranger station has a butcher that cleans and cuts the meat. They kept some of it for the food bank also. We normally choose the later since it's more convenient, and we have some meat available to roast for the rest of the camping trip.
My two younger cousins were left to watch over the camp. We went to the station to meet up with the ranger who was going to take us to the island. My uncle was a regular camper even to this day and not just during open season that some of the rangers knew him. Bill was one of them. He would send us to the best hunting spot.
As it turned out my uncle and Matt were the only ones with permit to hunt for buck. We only hunt doe if we needed meat, but if we were hunting for sport buck was the only game. So I had to go with Matt and my cousins with my uncle. It would be a miracle if my cousins bag anything. We panned out the area and look for a good spot to wait for passing deer. The ranger wasn't lying. Not long after we sat on our spot quite a few bucks already showed up. Matt let me try to take first shot. If I got one that would be his quota. He had to use my license and shoot a doe if he wanted a kill. I was so confident that I let the small bucks walked away and waited for a big one.
"Matt, a big one. Watch me down that sucker."
I took my aim and fired. Nicked the deer on top of its back. Every thing around us started running away. He just laughed.
"Wow, you blew that sucker that you can't even see the body," he said still laughing hard.
"Shuuuuut the fuck up," I said in defeat.
We waited for some more deer to show up but the deer seemed to be avoiding the spot after the fire was shot. We had to scout another place. After tracking some fresh deer tracks, we looked for a good vantage point. There were deer passing by, but they were twice as far as where we want them to be. Matt spotted a big buck.
"Wanna bet I can down that buck from here?" he said with confidence.
"Let's wait. It might come closer." I said.
"I can get it. You don't believe me? Wanna bet?" he insisted.
I was quite sure that he won't get it. It's too far. "What are you betting?"
He contemplated for a bit, "I'm thinking . . . . What about being the designated driver for a whole year?" He would be legal to drink next Fall semester.
"That ain't fair. Even if I win, I won't be legal 'til the next year," I said. "What about a full service hand job, two hands while sitting on the recliner? Service includes beer for the night."
"Hhhmmm, the offer is a little lopsided in your favor, . . . OK, deal," he said without hesitating.
He took his aim. I had the inkling feeling that he knew what he was doing. I needed to distract him.
"Hey Matt, you think you can get it?" I moved closer and started rubbing his inner thigh.
"That won't work," he said smiling at me.
"You sure?" I said then grabbed him.
"What are you doing? Are you afraid I'm going to win the bet."
"I'll do anything to win," I said and started rubbing him through his hunting coverall.
"I told you it won't work," he said then he pulled the trigger.
The buck just fell where it was standing.
"Yeah! Got it!" he shouted with glee.
"Fuck you," was all I can say. I can't believe that he hit it. I learned later from his dad that he was a very good shot. He's been target shooting since he was a kid plus he was using a digital scope.
We went to our kill and took some pictures. Matt grabbed one of the antlers, and I grabbed other, and set his phone timer. We dragged the deer back to the waiting boat. Only Bill was there. My uncle and my cousins had not come back yet.
Matt gave my arm a good punch.
"What did you do that for?" I asked annoyingly.
"Better get those arms some good work out," he said with a grin.
"Funny, Matt."
Still rubbing it on me, he said, "they will be put to good use."
"Ha-ha," I responded with a pretend laugh.
From a distance, I could hear my two cousins bickering about how one of them somehow messed the other aim that's why he didn't get his kill.
"Cut it out," I heard my uncle said. He got to the boat first.
My uncle saw our kill and asked, "who shot it?"
Matt raised his hand.
"Your cousins are useless. I tell you. All they did was scared off the deer," my uncle complained. That's when I saw my cousins dragging my uncle's kill. It didn't take us long to get our kills that we were able to drop the deer to the ranger station to be butchered. My two cousins were keeping the heads. Maybe to brag that it was their kill.
By night fall, we were sitting around the campfire and roasting some deer meat. My cousins were still bickering about the afternoon hunt, and my two younger cousins were just laughing at them. When the last can of beer was emptied, it was also time to call it a night. The next day, my uncle cooked some eggs and fried some salted deer meat for breakfast. That was the best camping trip I ever had.
From then on, the rest of my break were spent helping my dad during the day. By night time, I would get calls from my high school friends to visit some fair. Matt would pick me up to go to the hill to meet up with people that he knew from high school and drunk some beer. It seemed that most of the people that we knew had came back from their own trips, so we both spent the rest of the break with our own circle of high school friends. It was never boring.
The break passed by faster that we wanted to. In no time, our days were spent planning for the trip back to the college. As planned, we secured the recliners to my pickup. Matt said his goodbyes to his parents then we're off.