Ben and I attended the same university and were both 18. We had been friends since we were twelve. We'd grown up during the turmoil of the late sixties. We sweated out the final days of the draft as Vietnam came to an end and watched Nixon self-destruct during Watergate. Like a lot of our generation, we were concerned about these things. But some of our buddies seemed only to be concerned about the weekend's conquests or football scores. Ben and I were so close that we often knew what the other was thinking.
There were times when I dared not to think it. But, I loved him--as a friend with my head, as a close buddy with my heart, but also in a different way. I discovered that I like men and was a man. In the summer we would sit in our shorts, Indian-style, playing cards or checkers. I'd try to secretly peek at his thighs as the pink head of his dick poked through the bottom of his cut-offs. It happened quite a bit, so I always wondered if he did that on purpose. Maybe it was his strategy for winning the game. He probably figured that my concentration would be elsewhere! I kept that sight of him stored in my mind for inspiration as I emptied my balls in bed at night while I tried to imagine what he naked body looked like. As open-minded as he was, it still seemed a risk too big for me to take by telling him how I felt. Life without his touch was hard enough, but life without him around was unthinkable.
I'd try to suppress my feelings for him. But it was difficult because the mere sight of him would always make me hard. Everything that we did together only fueled my desires. When I tossed the Frisbee. I'd marvel at his muscles in motion. When we were through body surfing, we'd drag ourselves back on the beach to bask in the warmth of the sun. I'd have to lie on my stomach, for obvious reasons while he'd lie on his back with his eyes closed. I used that time to let my eyes drink him in. I stared intently at the tiny goose bumps on his deeply tanned chest. I got caught up in the motion of the heaving of his chest as he breathed. The motion stretched his large round nipples. I could see the blood pulsing through the veins in his neck; his baby fine hair wafting gently in the breeze; the pores in his skin and the fullness of his lips. His face looked so serene and inviting. I yearned to lay on top of him, to melt over him like butter in the sun.
It wasn't until our camping trip, that I finally got the chance to see all of him as I yearned to. We were on a day hike when we saw the sign. Made of thick iron, the letters had been cut out by torch. "NO NUDITY ALLOWED," it warned. We were two rebels against any kind of rule. We just looked at each other and grinned.
God, it was beautiful at the bottom of the canyon. There was a small narrow stream nearby. It flowed into a long, wide pool, with reeds and shrubs on one side and high sandstone cliffs on the other. We decided to cross the pool to the rocks against the cliffs. We had no idea how deep the water was and did not want to get our clothes and belongings wet, so we stripped naked and wrapped everything up in our towels. We waded out until it became so deep that we had to hold everything above our heads and bounce off the bottom. We looked like waiters carrying trays of food. Finally we climbed out of the cool water and laid down on the warm rocks. Since we were nude, we rolled on our sides and talked.
After a while we got out our ever-present magnetic game board to play some Chinese checkers. I longed to play with his dick, but at least I was able to let my eyes wander down to it. It was previously shriveled by the coolness of the water, but it had now begun to grow heavy. If he knew I was staring he didn't let on, and after a while he drew one leg up, placing his foot on his knee. His balls shifted in their loose sack. Gravity pulled them down. They rolled forward. God, this had to be an invitation of some kind, but it was so subtle I couldn't be sure.
Too quickly the afternoon slipped by and the time had come to head back to camp. We dressed. Both of us had developed dark tans over the summer, but being naked in the sun was a new experience so we got sun burned. Our shorts chafed against our tender skin all the way back, but it was a small price to be paying for all the beautiful sites we had seen that afternoon.
We'd found an out-of-the-way place to pitch our tent, so it came as no surprise when Ben said his sunburn hurt too much to wear anything. He suggested that we get naked. I agreed and we again shucked our clothes. As darkness set in, we lit a small fire, ate dinner, and rolled out our sleeping bags. The night air felt warm and refreshing, and made me feel acutely aware of our nakedness. Since we were not yet ready to sleep, we stretched out on top of our bags for a little conversation and a few hands of cards. It was much like the afternoon, except now the flickering fire highlighted his light pink groin while the rest of his tanned body blended into the darkness.
I dealt the cards and we played a few hands of poker. When it was Ben's turn to bid, he started to bite on his lip in a way that I understood all to well. He was going to take a while. He studied is cards. I studied his dick. The dancing firelight seemed to set it in motion. It was hypnotic.
"You going to bid or what?"
"Huh?"
"We're playing poler. Remember?"
"You were taking so long my mind started to wander."
"Yeah, I noticed!!!"
I had expected those words, but they weren't said with disgust. There was, in fact, the hint of a smile on his lips and a look of mischievousness in his eyes. I was more relieved than hopeful, but still, maybe I'd misread him all these years. We finished the game.
"What do you want to do now?" he asked. I always hated that question. Only one thing ever came immediately to mind.
"It doesn't really matter," I answered. I could dream about it, wish for it, but I couldn't bring myself to initiate it. "I'm kinda beat from the all the walking we did today,"
"Me too. I could really use one of your backrubs. That's if you've got the energy for it."
"Yeah, I can handle that." I always could. "Backrub" always translated to "body massage". It was the one intimacy that was allowed between us; a line we both walked up to without hesitation, but never crossed.
"I've got some lotion with my stuff. Could you rub some in? I think I overdid it in the sun today."
"Sure, get comfortable. I'll be right back." As I returned to Ben, I couldn't help but think that tonight was going to be a night for the truth. We were both naked, he had caught me stealing peeks at his dick and was still willing to let me give him a massage. This was either a demonstration of his trust, or of his desire.
I stood over him. I'd seen this sight so many times in my dreams. I knelt down and touched him. It was no dream. I squeezed some lotion into my hands and warmed it. Starting at the calluses on the bottom of his feet, I began working my way up his legs. His body relaxed under my roaming hands. As I felt the firmness of his muscles, I wondered at how they could be such a vision of strength to the eyes and yet be so yielding to the hands. I kneaded his thighs, but stopped at the fold marking the start of his butt.
I next worked on his hands. I was aware of the meatiness of his palms, the texture of his fingerprints, and the rigidity of the bones which gave his hands them their shape and structure. But the power I knew to be in them was not evident that night. What was it about his hands that made them so sensual? With his acceptance of my sensual massage, he was letting me know that he trusted me. Through my tender touch, I was telling him of my love for him. The messages were so much clearer than any that could be heard with the ears or seen with the eyes.
My fingers traveled across the landscape of his arms and back. The lotion I applied to his skin a satiny sheen that was reflected by the firelight. Finally, my hands were on his ass. The twin muscular mounds exploded with goose bumps when I spread the lotion over them. This was the only place that was really sunburned and I gave it special attention. I worked down at the base of his spine, I moved lower, kneading his cheeks, feeling them clench together. As I moved closer to his legs, he repositioned himself. He was making himself more vulnerable! I wanted to plunge in, to live my fantasy, but he was more than just a willing piece of ass to me. He was the love of my life, and I wanted to see his face.
"Roll over Ben," I said gently. With no hesitation he did. I gazed down upon him as I proceeded to massage his feet and legs. His submission was unmistakable and undeniable. Soon I was straddling his stomach, leaning forward on my knees, exploring the ridges and valleys of his abdominal muscles. With each breath his ribs rose and fell beneath me. At last I molded my hands to his wonderfully sculpted chest. So broad, so muscular, I couldn't feel the ribs underneath. As I touched his nipples they contracted, forcing the nubs to attention. I felt his heart beat stronger.
Suddenly, I became aware of the heat between us. I'd already lost my day-long battle from getting an erection. But now my engorged cock was lying on his stomach. Then I felt a warmth and stirring behind me. I turned to look. It was his cock, filling with blood, pulsing, arching its way towards me. I looked at his beautiful face below and leaned to touch it, to finish the massage. As I did so, his penis pressed hard against my butt. The blood rushed into my groin and I began to weaken. Attempting to steady myself, I cupped his face with my hands. I rubbed his strong cheekbones gently with my trembling thumbs. He raised his hand, placed it on my shoulder, and slowly opened his eyes. Through our eyes, the windows to our souls, it all was conveyed--the complete truth.
"Come here!!!"
I sank down onto him. My ass pushed back against his cock, almost seeming to cradle it. My own tool, roaring hard, was sandwiched by our warm, moist, lotion-lubricated stomachs. My tongue met his. I held his head in my hands like the sacred object it was. I felt the roughness from the day's growth of his beard. "My God," I thought. "This is what it's like to kiss a man, to experience him with all my senses."
I wrapped my arms and legs around him, as content as I had ever hoped to be. We were woven together, he then reached for the bottle of lotion and squeezed some in his hand.
"Get up on your hands and knees," he whispered. I knew I'd love what was coming next. He smeared the lotion on my ass and then popped a finger inside as I moved back up to smother his mouth with mine. His finger moved deeper inside me until it pressed upon my prostate. I felt the release of fluid rush down the length of my penis as my cum spewed onto his stomach. He moaned and I heard the squishy sound of lotion as he stroked himself to full hardness.
"Do it. I've wanted it for so long," I confessed at last.
With one hand around my chest, he pulled me back against his crotch. With the other, he lined his dick up to plug my anxious hole. Then he eased me back against him. I felt my butt open up and then stretch wide as the head of his dick pushed through. In startled reflex, my arms closed tightly around him. We froze in gentle embrace until I could relax. Gradually, more and more of his dick penetrated me. My balls were nestled into his cushiony pubic hair and I knew his dick was home. My heart pumped blood through the vessels in my tightly stretched sphincter in rhythm to that of his steadily throbbing member.
It had taken years to get this far. I slowly sat up and looked at him. Full and deep inside me, he opened those angelic eyes and flashed a devilish grin. I began to rock gently back and forth. His chest rose, and with a low groan, fell. Our lovemaking progressed by slow degrees, and as our movements became more pronounced, he reached out to me with his hand, first touching my dick, then encircling it.
We rapidly approached the moment of mutual release. Our bodies glistened with sweat and our breathing had turned to panting. When the action of his hand upon me became more frenetic, I knew I was on the brink.
"I could do this all night, but I want to cum!" he gasped.
"Shit, man, we cam do it all night! Nobody says you can only cum once a day. Let it go!"
I was so close to blowing my own wad, but I turned my attention to him, wanting to bring him over the top with me. I reached down and felt his shaft sliding in and out my chute. I slid my hand down and cupped his balls. With my thumb, I pressed firmly where the spongy underside of his dick met his dancing nut sack. His whole body tensed and froze. I had gotten to his prostate the easy way. He uttered no sound, inhaled no breath, made no movement. He gripped my cock frimly as if to keep from falling into some deep ravine, but he had no chance. I gently squeezed his clutch of eggs, pushing him off the precipice, determined to follow him down.
I felt the first spasm of his meat and the explosion in my bowels. That set me off. My ass contracted around him as he continued to pump into me. We each fed off the orgasm of the other. My churned cream shot out and landed on his tanned chest. A small pool formed in the hollow at the base of his neck. The body that had been so at rest as I massaged it earlier was now unleashed, blasting its man juice into me. Wave after wave of convulsive contentment washed over us. I collapsed against him, my semen serving as mortar, cementing our bodies together. I felt him shudder one last time.
He made no effort to withdraw, but soon that terrific cock, which had been so hard for so long, began to deflate and, alas, slide out.
I straightened myself out beside him. Toe to toe, and tongue to tongue, we intertwined our legs, kissed, and propped ourselves up on our elbows. Neither of us said anything for a long, long time. It was a magic moment; we were meshed together not only in body, but also in our minds.
Ben broke the spell. "You think you could concentrate on a card game now?"
It was quite a night for firsts. It was my first night of us having real sex. And it was my first night of truthful love. But it was also the first night of knowing that we had reached a point in our relationship where we knew we'd be sitting together on a park bench in our eighties, never having drifted apart, always a part of each other's lives.