Last episode I'm afraid, thanks for all the kind comments, look forward to a new story in a month or so.
PAULS PANTS Chapter 9
I should have guessed it, but our adventures in the park together marked the beginning of the end of our sexual relationship. Paul had gone from being a sexually obsessed boy with little or no experience, to a very confident, and skilled sexual operator. There were boom and bust aspects to his character even then, he could be quite overbearing when he felt that he was in command, humble and polite when he was less sure of himself.
I had managed to sneak in at home without attracting comment or attention, just as well really, as when I looked in the mirror I was in a right old state; my face and legs dirty from the dusty grass, with tracks and splashes of white where our mingled come had washed away the dust. My hair was all matted too; with grass stems and more dried come tangling it up. I dived into the shower, as soon as I realised, the old adage about looking like I'd been dragged through a hedge backwards was never more true.
The next day was a Saturday, and I slept the sleep of the just, or maybe the sleep of the truly shagged. I didn't get out of bed until midday, and only then because the phone was ringing. It was Paul, "How about last night?" he asked.
"Fantastic," I replied, "the most fun I've had in ages."
"I've got this idea," he said.
"Uh-oh," I groaned, "Don't tell me, you want a shag in the middle of the shopping centre."
"Now that's an idea, but not the one I had. I was thinking more about bringing some beers round, and locking your bedroom door from the inside."
"Now you're talking," I said, "the family's all going shopping for the afternoon, and I've got plenty of film."
"Ok, I'll be over in an hour or so."
"I'll be ready." I showered again, and dressed with care; my favourite thin black cotton briefs, a plain white t-shirt and black cord jeans. There didn't seem to be a lot of point in putting anything else on. My cock was already semi-hard at the thought of what was to come, although making out in the middle of the football pitch in Pitt Park was something of a peak in my sexual experience. It hadn't occurred to me to give Paul any sort of a scenario, and it obviously hadn't occurred to him either. When he arrived, he was wearing the usual terrible jacket, baggy jeans and a `nice' sweater, ever so innocent looking. "Hmm, haven't seen that outfit before," I muttered sarcastically.
"Shan't be keeping it on long," he replied, smiling.
"What've you got on underneath?" I asked, and pulled him towards me by the waistband of his jeans, at the same time undoing his zipper with my other hand, and slipping it in for an exploratory feel. "Mmm," I murmured closing my eyes, "feels like nylon, y-fronts perhaps, oh, and what's this? Are you perhaps pleased to see me?" The hard length of his erect cock was filling his jeans, and I could just feel the tip of it projecting above the waistband of his pants.
"Yeah, alright," he said, pushing me away, "lets get upstairs before you do me an injury." His fingers brushed over my crotch briefly, "I see you're not unhappy too."
We went upstairs to my room, and I locked the door behind us, "Ok, what's the story?" I asked him.
"I thought I'd just take my clothes off and read a porno mag," he said. He must have seen my expression; "don't knock until you've seen it, and there's a slight difference."
"Oh yeah, what's that?" I said sarcastically.
"Well, you know what usually happens, I strip, you take some pictures, then I make you take your clothes off and we end up covered in spunk."
"Yup, that sounds about right, what else did you have in mind?"
"I want you to strip off first, so I can watch you while you are photographing me."
I didn't need much encouragement, and pushed Paul back onto the bed, where he settled back comfortably to watch. I pulled my white t-shirt off over my head, and wiggled my crotch in front of his face. He reached up and gently pulled the zip of my jeans down, my erection bulging obligingly out though the flys. I undid the button, and wiggled some more, allowing my jeans to slide to the ground. Stepping out of them, I kicked them to one side, and pushed my thumbs into the waistband of my pants, preparatory to sliding them down.
"Wait," said Paul, "that'll do for now, and anyway, I think I should pull them down."
"Ok then," I said, "time for you to do your stuff." Paul stripped off his jacket and sweater, and chucked them over to where my stuff had ended up, and dumping his shoes and socks, settled back on the bed. Slowly, he undid the waistband of his jeans, and undid the zipper, watching me the whole time as his bulging crotch became visible.
"Oh no," I said.
"What's the matter," he asked.
"I've already photographed you in these pants."
"Have you?" He sounded indifferent, "I don't remember." He was wearing stripy nylon y-fronts, I'd only taken a few pics of him in them before, on our very first session before I ran out of film, so I suppose it was fair enough that he didn't remember. Still, in a rare moment of sensitivity, he looked up, and said; "Sorry, my mistake, but I'm much better at posing now, and I'll make it up to you. Shall we carry on?" Gently, almost tenderly, he started to run his hand over the straining fabric, the tip of his cock just visible as it began to escape from its confinement. Rolling onto his side, he pulled his jeans away from his butt, all the time watching me, with a smile on his face. From time to time as I moved round him looking for a better angle, his exploring hand made contact with my crotch, an erotic sensation that was building up the heat, I was quite happy to be nearly naked, I can tell you. The sweatshirt was next to go, and followed by the jeans. Paul stood up, the front of his pants tenting out under the pressure, I moved closer, and we rubbed our erections together for a moment. The feeling of our stiff cocks sliding past each other was extremely stimulating to me, and I could see that Paul was getting off on it too.
"We'd better move on, before you make me come in my pants again," I said huskily.
"Ok," Paul said, and giving my crotch a friendly squeeze in passing, he settled back on the bed. This time he was being much less subtle, staring directly into the camera lens, he placed his hand firmly onto his cock, and spreading his legs apart, he began to masturbate through the material. After a couple of shots, his hand slid under the waistband and continued to work steadily away. Gradually, with his other hand he pulled his pants partly down, all the time holding onto his cock, frowning with concentration he turned his body to give me a good angle, his dick and balls were confined in the stretched nylon fabric. He stood up, partly to rearrange himself, and I helpfully tugged at the cloth.
"You could do yourself a nasty injury if you're not careful. Maybe its time to let a little air onto the scene of the crime?"
"Yeah, in a minute," He flopped back down onto the bed, and pulled his cock out of its confinement, giving it a few hard strokes before finally impatiently stripping his pants off and tossing them to one side. He posed for me, legs wide, gripping the base of his long cock, a good hands width projecting free above, his balls tight, and ready to come. That picture still turns me on, he is pretending to read his porno mag, while in reality I am standing over him, my cotton pants stretched out by my hot erection.
Abruptly, Paul stood up, and took the camera from me; "Your turn," was all he said, as he knelt down before me, his curved cock flopping along his thigh. He very carefully turned my body to face him, and pushing my legs apart, he started to kiss my inner thigh, his hair brushing softly at my crotch. I couldn't think of anything to do with my hands, my first attempt to grab my raging stiffy was firmly repulsed. So I pushed my fingers into his hair, curious to discover if he was turned on by someone delicately tickling the back of his neck, something that sends me into ecstasy every time. Judging by the moan of appreciation, this worked for him too. Paul had by now worked his way up to the front of my briefs, and began to lick at my erection, before taking it into his mouth through the material. My pants were pretty soggy by now, Paul's spit and my juices making a dark stain on the black cotton. As Paul continued to work at my erection, his hands crept up my legs, and began to rub my butt in time with his other ministrations, pressing my cock hard into his mouth.
At last, he gave in, and gripping the waistband of my pants, pulled them slowly down, my cock springing free, into his face. Grasping my dick with both hands, he fed it deep into his mouth, before reaching round to clasp my buttocks and use them to roll my hips. I wasn't going to last very long with this kind of attention, I could feel the pressure building up in my balls, and my legs were getting a bit wobbly. I looked down at Paul, his mouth working up and down my cock, his own stiff prick bobbing along in rhythm with his movements, and that was enough; I blew my load, my come spurting into Paul's willing mouth. My legs buckled under me, with the full force of my orgasm, and I fell back onto the bed, come still dribbling from my cock. Paul followed me down, greedily sucking the spunk off my still erect penis.
"Wow," I said faintly, when I could speak, "That was great, time I returned the favour." Paul needed no further encouragement, and climbed onto the bed with me, he straddled my body, my still stiff cock rubbing along his arse crack, his hard dick pushing against my stomach. I grabbed a handful and pulled him firmly towards me, he sat back deliciously on my cock, I knew that I wasn't going to get to explore that particular route to pleasure, but what we were doing still felt pretty good to me. Paul rocked back and forward, his butt sliding on my damp crotch, he was going to make me come again very quickly, and I was way behind with him.
I started to rub him harder, his cock very stiff and red in my hand, and his balls were hanging full as he swivelled on my crotch. Maybe I was wrong, he was starting to sweat, and I could see his ears were pink, always a sign that he was heading towards an orgasm. Suddenly his back stiffened, and he arched backwards, I stopped masturbating him, and he gasped; "Don't stop now." Taking that as a hint, I gave his cock a series of swift and firm strokes, sensing the spunk that was on its way, and as he wiggled I could feel another quick eruption building up in my groin too. Finally, with a groan of pleasure, he relaxed, his cock pumping his come up into the air and showering it down on us both, as he did so, and as I continued to wank his come-slippery dick, I shot my second load off into the crack of his butt.
To say that we were covered in it would be a major understatement, once we'd recovered our breath; I gently pushed Paul's hot body off mine, and kneeling on the floor beside the bed, began to lick our mingled spunk off his body. He smiled at me, and with a lazy hand began to stroke the back of my neck as I bent over him. This was enough to revive my cock again, although he couldn't have known that. Anyway, I wasn't finished with him yet; as I worked my way down his stomach, I brought my hand slowly up his leg, and pushing his legs apart, started to rub gently on the soft hairs that covered his balls. His prick, which had subsided slightly after he came, stiffened up again. Paul lay still with his eyes closed, as I continued with my subtle movements.
After I had kept my gentle massage going as long as I could, I took hold of his hot cock, and started a series of long slow strokes up and down the length of his shaft. Paul moaned quietly, but otherwise laid quite still, his eyes closed, breathing softly. I shifted my position slightly, and began to kiss his stomach, from his belly button down to the line of his pubic hair, all the time maintaining the steady action on his cock. Finally, I crossed the line, and started to run my tongue up the hot shaft of his dick. As I did so I felt his questing hand run down my back, over my butt cheeks and between my legs, finding my miraculously stiff cock at the end of its journey. Seizing back the initiative, I took his cock into my mouth, and paying special attention to the red and sensitive tip, began to blow him as slowly and subtly as I could manage.
Paul had obviously tuned in to this idea, and was masturbating me with the same slow rhythm that I was giving to him. The whole experience was intensely erotic to me, as we carefully stimulated each other. I could have stayed like that for the rest of the day, but I was aware that the shopping expedition was going to be home within the hour, and the one thing that was guaranteed to arouse parental suspicion was silence from my bedroom.
As soon as I could, I began to pick up speed on my sucking and blowing, pulling my head back off his cock to give special attention to his glans, and getting a hand back onto his shaft for a little added emphasis. As I rubbed my finger over the tip, the first drops of pre-come welled up, and I took his length back into his mouth again, deep throating him vigorously until I could feel his cock swelling in my mouth, and he shot his salty load into me and over my tongue. He hadn't quite got me to come yet, but that was quite all right; because I still wasn't finished with him.
I disengaged from his cock, and gave the customary daub of spunk to his sweaty forehead, he still hadn't opened his eyes, just lay there smiling gently. I gave him a couple of minutes to recover, then grabbed his wrist; "Come on."
"What?" he protested.
"Come with me." I led him, the pair of us naked, and obviously post-coital, across the landing, and into the bathroom, "We're going to have to have a shower, you can't go home like that." Curiously enough, he didn't protest any more, just allowed me to run the shower and join him under the stream of warm water. I got the soap first, and ran it over his body, paying special attention to his groin, making sure that it was all fresh and clean. I turned him round, and washed his back, and his butt, washing my spunk out of his crack. All this was making me horny as hell again, and I ground my erection into his butt, by way of a gentle hint. Naturally, his erection had sprung up again, and soaping our hands up, we grabbed each other's erections and began to satisfy ourselves. When I think back to those times, I am always amazed at how much sexual energy we had, and how so much of it was wasted. Not, in this case I hasten to add.
This time we were not playing a subtle game, we both fiercely wanting to come again, and our hands were slipping quickly up and down the shafts of our respective cocks. I didn't have to wait long for Paul, his body stiffened up, I felt his cock thicken in my hand, and a white jet of come shot out splashing onto my groin and his jerking hand. A moment later, I came too, my spunk splashing over him, and then mingling with his as it washed away down the drain. I didn't think I could manage a fourth time, although I wasn't so sure about him. Any way it was time to get cleaned up.
I helped him out of the shower, and grabbing a towel, started to dry him off. As I patted his crotch dry, his cock made a half-hearted attempt to rise, I kissed it fondly, and said "Not now, maybe later."
Paul dried me off too, and we went back into my bedroom to dress. I gave Paul a clean pair of my pants to wear, even the sight of his cock and balls filling my white cotton briefs couldn't do more than mildly turn me on, and we both got dressed again.
It was as we were having a beer together, that Paul dropped what turned out to be a small bombshell; "Are you going to the party next week?"
"No, what party?" I asked, not being invited was never an issue in those days, as long as you brought some beer.
"Heavy metal Rick's party, Friday night."
"Oh right," I said with little enthusiasm, Rick was an Ok geezer, but wasn't heavily into washing, and didn't have a very comprehensive range of musical tastes. I've no problem with metal, but not all of the time, Paul seemed mostly to like stuff with guitar solos in it, "I think I might pass on that one."
"Suit yourself," he said indifferently, "I guess I'd better get off home now."
"Yeah," I said awkwardly, "thanks for this afternoon, it was great. We must do it again soon."
"Yeah," he said, making for the door, "See ya."
I didn't see or hear anything from Paul until the following weekend, when once again he rang me around midday, "You'll never guess what," he said, excitedly.
"You're right," I answered, "what?"
"I lost my virginity last night, isn't that great."
"I guess so," I said, my heart sinking, "although I wouldn't have described you as a virgin."
"Oh, that, that's just kids stuff, I've been with a woman now. I mean it was fun, but it was just wanking off. This is different, more grown-up, I feel like I'm a man now."
Dear reader, that was it, the end of our adventures together, although I continued to be mates with Paul, we never again laid a finger on each other. Paul discovered that he could get a shag more or less on demand, and never again referred either to our photo sessions, or our sexual adventures. After a few months our paths diverged again, I went off to university, and a whole new set of adventures, and Paul got an apprenticeship and stayed in the area.
Eventually, he was a bit careless, and impregnated one of his girl friends; they married and moved out of the borough. I didn't catch up with him for several years, it was only when he split up with his wife and moved back to the area that I bumped into him again. I still see him occasionally, like me; he's got a bit fat, and drinks too much. There's little sign of the boy that made my growing up so memorable, but I guess that's true of any of us. At least I still have all the photos to remind me of a golden time.