Rodney was just an aquaintance through Jr. High and the first year or so of high school. I sat next to him in typing class in Jr. High and we would talk once in a while between classes. I knew his mom because she was a teachers aid. She was one of the nicer ladys who supervised students when they were in the commons and the library. We weren't really close friends, and never really hung out together. Our friendship grew closer our junior year in high school, however. We both ended up on the year book staff. As we were the only two who could type well, we were assigned the task of typing the yearbook copy. In addition, Rodeny and I both had an interest in photography, so we were the "in resident" photographers. How or when we started spending a lot of time together escapes me now. I think it may have been when a mutual friend called one night and we "scooped the loop," a tradition where teens would drive through the downtown area of the city we lived in looking for fun. The "loop" was a section of the city that was about 12 or 13 blocks long and one block wide. The streets were all one way, with synchronized stop lights, so you could make a loop without having to make too many stops. Kids from rival schools would taunt each other at the light, while friends would pick a corner to congregate and chat. The underlying idea, however, was to meet girls from another part of town who might want to hook up.
Since I had a car, I was usually one of the first called in the group. Those who had cars would trade off, with the one with the most gas the one who drove.
But before I get to the details of the when and where of my first time, let me fill you in with a little background.
My first time happened when I was 17 going on 18 between my junior and senior year in school. I was 5'10" and weighed 170 pounds. I really wasn't a jock, but my Dutch ancestory left me with tree turnk like legs and a barrel chest. I could bench over 200 pounds and max out our school's Nautilus equipment on the leg press. Looking back on pictures of me at that time, I was a good looking kid. But at the time, I had extremely poor self esteem and never considered myself good looking. I could never figure out why I had been hit on by so many of my guy friends. I had a girlfriend since 8th grade, yet several of my friends had tried to get me to mess around with them. I figured it must have been my fault. I was so homophobic I figured they were trying to trap me and reveal to the world the secret fantasies that accopanied my nightly masturbation sessions. But looking back on this now, it's no mystery. I was hot!
During my sophomore years, shortly after my 16th birthday, my friend Steve , who was 15, and I used to drive around town during third period. Technically we were supposed to be in the school somewhere, but attendance was never taken. So we would sneek out to the car and drive around, just glad to be away from school. Steve was my science lab partner. He was a blonde haired blue eyed jock that was extremely friendly to everyone. He had transfered to the school we went to our sophomore year. I had no clue who he was, but he acted like he had known me all of my life. The second day of Cell Biology our sophomore year he said, "I hear you have a Datsun sportscar, when you gonna take me for a ride in it?" His forwardness shocked me....it reaked of sexual undertones that I recognized, but didn't allow to come to my conscious mind. It was during one of these car rides that Steve found my stash of porn under the passenger seat when he tried to adjust it. My locker partner had given me the large stack of magazines when his parent's found his hiding place. They made him throw them out, but before the garbage truck came, he was able to get them into his backpack and hid them in our locker. He gave them to me, so I hid them under the front seat of my car. Most were pretty tame, Playboy and Penthouse. But there were some higher dollar coffee table type books in there too, with very explicit content. My favorite was called "Lab Lust." I spent more time staring at the erection on the young looking stud in the photos than I did looking at the oversized pussy of the middle aged woman he was about to deflower. It didn't take Steve more than 30 seconds of looking at the porn before he asked me to "find a place to pull over so I can look at these better." I drove about a mile out of town on a country road. Steve handed me a magazine, as he drooled over the pictures.
It wasn't long before he said, "My dick hurts."
"Mine too," I responded. There was a pregnant pause before I said, "Mind if I make a little more room for my monster?"
Steve seemed releaved when I said that, and actually had his hand on his belt before he answered.
"Just what I was thinking," he said.
I wasn't as bold as he was, I just unzipped my pants enough that my erection, still engulfed in my white cotton briefs, poked though my fly. Steve, on the other hand, had his belt undone, pants unsnapped and unzipped. He left his "tighty whiteys" over his penis, but the tent it made had to have been four or five inches tall. We continued to look at the pictures. I would sneek a peack at his bulge every once in a while, and he would do the same to me. But we were both too chicken to go any further. After a few minutes, we zipped up and went back to school. This became a once in a while thing. Every so often, Steve would meet me at the locker and say, "ready to go?" We didn't vary from the "making room for the monster routine," until the last two times we went out. Steve obviously had strong ideas of where he wanted this relationship to lead, but I was just too chicken. I still wasn't convinced I was gay, and was so scared of being found out, didn't want anyone to have any proof. The second to last time we went out, we went to Mc Donalds for something to drink. Steve said he would wait in the car. When I came back, Steve had his pants open. But this time the typical tighty whitey underwear wasn't in its normal position. This time the waist band was below his testicles, with his 6 inch erection in full view, at full staff. I acted like this situation was no different than me finding him eating an apple. He said, "My monster was feeling a little crowded." I gave a short chuckle, said something about hoping no one in the parking lot saw his boner, and we headed back to school.
The last time our play time happened still strikes me as rather odd. I think Steve was as unsure of his sexuality as I was my own. By this time we were in the second semester of our sophomore year. Our free period was no longer during 3rd hour, but over the luch hour, meaning we had an hour and a half of free time. We ended up at my house for lunch. My mom worked at my families business, so we had the house to ourselves. While I was making sandwiches, Steve high-tailed it down to the basement where my room was to find my porn stash. I came down stairs with the sandwiches and Steve was laying on my water bed, looking at a Hustler magazine. He had tight blue jeans on, and a white button down oxford style shirt. But he had his shirt unbuttoned all the way to his waist. I knew then something was up. I was somewhat excited, but then scared to death that Steve was setting me up to see if I was a fag. (Sounds kind of stupid now, doesn't it?) I sat at my desk, eating, when I saw Steve reach down and unfasten his belt. My penis began to get hard; within seconds it was hurting and straining against my jeans. Steve laid the magazine down, and continued to "free his monster." I figured he would stop when he got to his underwear and lay there with his erection tenting his briefs. He didn't. I watched as he hooked his fingers under his waist band, and then slid the fabric below his balls. His erection was buldging. I looked away quickly, not wanting Steve to catch me staring. I looked out of the corner of my eye and saw Steve place both of his hands at the base of his cock, while his erection bobbed and strained towards his belly button. I continued to act like I wasn't watching. Steve said, "Do you think I have a big dick." I glanced over quickly and then looked away, mumbling "I guess so." I continued to look anywhere but in Steve's direction. I wanted to look so badly. But to do so would admit my deepest secret, one I couldn't admit to myself, let alone this god like jock laying on my bed. After what seemed like ages of me looking at my feet, the desk, the ceiling, the walls, Steve finally said, "Let's compare dick size."
I said, "Ahh...I don't know....not sure...uhmmm...." Another pregnant pause.
"Common, Bill, it will be cool. Let's see who has the bigger boner."
I didn't respond. I didn't know what to say, but I stayed frozen on the chair.
New tactic. Steve said, "Well, do you have a ruler? We could measure them."
I reached in the drawer of the desk and pulled out a ruler. But I stayed glued on the chair.
Steve said, "Common over here," as he patted the waterbed. "Lay down next to me and we can compare boners.
I slowly got up, and made my way to the other side of the bed. I laid down, but right up next to the edge, as far away from Steve as I could get. I started to unbuckle my pants when all of the sudden Steve's demeaner changed.
"What time is it?"
"Twenty till," I said.
"Shit, we've got to get back to school."
I started to protest, saying. "I thought we were going to compare dicks."
But Steve already had his pants pulled up and was heading towards the stairs. To this day I'm not sure if Steve was really worried about getting back to school on time, worried that I wasn't really interested but was doing it for him, or what. But that was the last time Steve gave his monster breathing room in my presence.
Around this same time I had another friend named Jimmy Clark. Jim was younger than me and was a freshman. He liked the fact I had a car, and would spend time with the group of guys I hung around with. I met Jim through a friend named Scott who was a junior. I worshipped the ground Scott walked on. He was captain of the diving team and a true rebel. It was suspected that Scott was a pot head. His rough exterior and cocky attitude made me want to be around him all the time. Scott and I sat next to each other in choir. After Scott and I had hung out together for several weeks, he revealed to me that he liked to smoke pot, and introduced me to Jimmy. Jimmy's dad smoked pot with both Scott and Jim, something I thought was the weirdest thing I had ever heard. I never dreamed there were parents who smoked pot with their kids. It wasn't long before I was hanging out with Jim too. I don't recall the circumstances, but I asked Jim to spend the night. Jim brought his stash along and wanted me to try some. I said I was scared that my parents would smell it as my mom had a very sensitive nose. His next question floored me. We were sitting on the floor in my room with MTV on in the background.
Jimmy said, "WIll you suck my cock?"
I was floored. I had no idea why he would say that. I didn't want to turn him down flat in case this might lead some where, but then I didn't want all of our mutual friends to know if this was a trap.
I jokingly replied, "Maybe later." That was the last time he suggested it, but I have always wondered what would have happened if I would have said, "Yes."
So here I was, a horny teen who had the hots for his friend, but scared to death of actually doing anything and homophobic as hell. But the summer before my Senior year, I had decided on the college I wanted to go to and had spent a weekend there, staying with guys in the dorm and meeting professors. My friend Rodney was also thinking about going to the same college if he could get on the golf team. So we took another trip to the college, which was about a three hour drive from our home town. The college was very nice, and the staff very friendly. Rod met with the advisor of the golf team while I walked around campus. The college set us up in a private room in one of the dorms. It was meant for visiting parents, and had its own bathroom, unlike the rest of the rooms on the floor. Having nothing to do, Rod and I bought beer and some magazines for something to do. It wasn't long before we were both trashed. I said I wanted to crash. But Rodney had different ideas. All of the sudden he tackled me and started tickling me as we wrestled on the floor. While I loved his attention and this new turn of events, I hated being tickled. My cousin had torchured me when I was little and wouldn't stop tickling me. I stearnly yelled at Rodney to "knock it off!" I immediately felt bad for yelling so strongly. But tickling was not my idea of fun. Rodney stopped immediately and quietly said, "OK, I'm sorry." After several minutes of awkward silence, I started to realize the underlying message in Rodney's playfulness. Was this an invitation to mess around? OK, so how do I prevent the same thing from happending that happened with Steve and Jim? After all, I really liked Rodney and would love to make out with him. I walked over to the dresser where we hid the beer and porn. I grabbed the magazine and started flipping throught the pages. I soon had a raging hard on that was clearly visible under my sweat pants. Rodney had been sitting at the desk drinking a beer.
He said, "Gee you get hard easy...I can't get hard unless something rubs it."
The conversation was going my way, clearly, but Rodney's bold comment went right over my head. After a few more minutes of me flipping pages and Rodney sipping his beer, Rodney said, "I'm horny."
My heart began to pound in my chest. "Me too, " I replied.
Rodney walked over and picked up one of the magazines. "I'm going to go jack off in the bathroom."
I said, "If you are, then I will too."
Rodeny walked into the bathroom. I layed on the bed for about a munite or so, contemplating whether or not I would actually start jacking off. After all, all he had to do was walk out of the bathroom to catch me in all of my glory. But I went ahead and pulled my sweatpants off, and then removed my underwear. I layed back down on the bed, my boner pointing toward the ceiling. I layed quietly in just my Adidas T shirt, trying to hear any tell tale sounds coming from the bathroom. Hearing none, I started to caress my dick and balls. It wasn't long before I was furiously pounding away at my dick, my heart almost beating out of my chest with the thought that Rodney was only a few feet way in the bathroom, knowing full well that I was jacking off. As I neared orgasm, I realized I would be covered with cum, and had nothing to wipe it up with. Erection in hand, I snuck to the bathroom and tapped on the door.
"Hey dude, could you give me some toilet paper, for, ah, well, you know."
Rodney opened the door a crack and gave me about three feet of toilet paper. We both started laughing. I laid back down and brought myself to a mind blowing, blood rushing orgasm. I actually shot on the wall above the bed. I cleaned myself with the huge pile of toilet paper. It wasn't more than a minute or two until Rodney opened the door a crack and asked,
"You done?"
We went to bed (there was only one queen size bed) but fell quickly asleep. >From that time, until several months later, we never spoke of anything sexual again.
So this brings you up to the point of my first time. Rodney called about 6:00 on a Friday night Summer was drawing to an end; it was almost the end of August. The other guys in our group were out with dates, Rod and I the only ones who hadn't hooked up.
"Let's go out and find some pussy," Rodney said, our standard line for saying we wanted to go scoop the loop.
I picked Rodney up at his house about 15 minutes later and we headed for the loop, a 20 minute drive from the suburb where we lived. We drove around for several hours, stopped to talk to quite a few girls, but none seemed insterested in going with us. While I had a letter jacket and a nice car, I got the impression that the girls weren't interested in Rodney. He was more of an outdoorsman and wore plaid flannel shirts and old hiking boots. Plus he was still in that age where acne can be a problem. We finally gave up and headed back to the area closer to where we lived. I drove north of town.
Rodney said, "Hey, I've got some pot, want to get stoned?"
I rarely smoked pot, having only tried it twice before, but I quickly thought of our time a few months earlier at the college.
"OK," I said.
I headed towards a secluded road that lead to our towns sewage treatment plant. No one would be going down that road on a Friday night. We got parked, facing back towards the way we came in in case anyone decided to come down the driveway. After several hits off Rodney's pipe, I felt like I was floating. My face was numb, my fingers were numb, and I couldn't feel my legs.
"Hey dude, I can't feel my legs, wow this is really freaky!"
Rodney started giggling. I was staring out towards the stars, enjoying the floating feeling, when I thought I was feeling pressure on the top of my right leg. I couldn't tell if it was my imagination and the pot, or whether something was on my leg. After several seconds, the pressure released, and I felt it move about an inch to the left. About six or seven seconds, it moved again, but the pressure felt more like fingers, and they were in the inside of my leg about an eigth of an inch from my penis. I wanted to look, but scared it would break the magic. A few more seconds, and then my heart skipped a beat. The pressure was on top of my penis and squeezing. But then it stopped. I finally got up the courage and stopped looking at the stars. I looked over at Rodney, who had glazed eyes and was staring out the window.
I finally said, "Man am I horny."
Rodney said, "Yah, me too."
We were silent for a few minutes.
I said, "I really need to jack off."
Rodney said, "I know what you mean."
I said, "Do you mind?"
Rodney said "No, I will if you will."
Rodney then opened the dor and climbed into the back seat. I unbuckled my pants, pulled out my penis and started jacking off. I heard Rodeny moving around in back, heard the tinkling of his belt, and then the sound of slapping foreskin. We masturbated for a while, then I finally decided it was safe to look back and watch Rodney. I turned my head toward the back seat. At first, all I could see were bare knees. I scooted back in the seat so I would be taller, and looked back. Rodey was laying on the seat, his head against the arm rest on the door, with his pants and underwear just below his knees. He was jacking off furiously. I watched for a second, then decided I had better say something before he shot his load. But I chickened out. So I continued to stroke my dick when Rodney said,
"You ever jack a guy off?"
I said, "No," having no idea what to say next.
After about a munute of silence I said, "I'll do you if you do me."
Rodney said, "OK."
I told Rodney to come back up front. I still had my dick out, but Rodney had to get resettled in the front seat. He pulled his underwear and jeans back down to his knees and said, "OK, I'm ready." I reached over and grabbed onto his erection. It felt so weird. First I felt hot skin, but then I felt the hardness underneath. As I jacked him, I felt his foreskin glide over the firmness underneath. My head was dizzy. While I revelled in this new found feeling, I realized he was pulling on my penis. I had never had anyone do that before. We continued this for several minutes.
I finally said, "Have you ever sucked a dick before?"
"No."
"I'll suck yours if you'll suck mine."
Rodney said, "I'm not ready for that."
I said, "OK, how about I just suck yours."
Rodney said, "OK."
I let go of his penis and he let go of mine. He laid with his erection throbbing, and I made my way towards it. It smelled musky, kind of like an armpit but not nearly as strong. I took it in my mouth and started to suck. I rolled my toungue around it and felt it throb. After a few seconds I tasted the saltiness of his precum. Again my head started to swim. I continued to suck for about ten minutes before I decided I really wanted to cum. I asked Rodney if he wanted to jack off again. I sat back up and started tugging on my penis, I shot within seconds and filled my underwear with cum, it overflowed onto the carpet of the car and onto the seat. I told Rodney to let me know when he was almost ready to cum as I wanted to suck him again.
After about two minutes Rodney said, "OK!"
I took his hard on in my mouth just as he shot his load. THe first squirt completely filled my mouth. I wanted to savor the flavor, but before the taste could clearly register, I was hit by three squirts in a row that overflowed down my throat and out the corner of my mouth. I started swallowing, but couldn't keep up with the flow. Finally the flow stopped and I was able to remove my mouth from his dick. I licked his head and shaft to clean the cum off, and then wiped the corner of my mouth with my hand. We didn't speak as we pulled up our underwear and jeans.
THe ride home was overly quiet. I dropped Rodney off at his house and headed home.
Rodney called the next day and said, "Man was I stoned last night! I can't remember a thing that happened."
I replied sarcastically, "Yah, right, Cut the B.S. Rodney. You know perfectly well what happened last night."
We didn't talk for several weeks after that, but did hook up one more time....but that's another story.