The Peter Trilogy Part One
LEARNING MORE ABOUT MY TWO FRIENDS
Let me introduce you to my good friends Peter and David and tell you of some educating fun I had with them. There are three stories in this trilogy and with each I have told you a little more about the central character of Peter.
I do hope you enjoy reading the stories, I will let you judge for yourself where truth ends and my own vivid imagination takes over.
Please let me know what you think. You can e-mail me at horny_writer@hotmail.com and please check my websites: http://www.nationwideauthors.com
Have fun -- lots and lots and lots of it !!!!!!!!!!!!!
Nigel
It was amazing how popular I became within my circle of friends once I passed my driving test and when I scraped enough together to buy my first car I was elevated to the popularity normally reserved for a mega star. But somehow an unpaid taxi driver never quite achieved the aura which surrounds the likes of Rod Stewart or David Beckham.
With my little car the three of us planned a booze cruise to France for the day. We would lay in a store of cheap alcohol and cigarettes. Neither David nor I smoked, but Peter did and decided we would use our allowances to purchase enough tobacco to keep his lungs happy for a while to come.
We booked ourselves on an early ferry out of Dover to Calais and the prospect of the cheap hypermarkets. This required that we set off from home at the ungodly hour of four o'clock in the morning. To speed our departure I suggested that David and Peter stay the night at my place. I had only a small bed sit but squashed two blow up air beds and sleeping bags onto the floor of my own room.
Now, in order for you to appreciate this story you need to know a couple of things. Firstly David, Peter and I had been mates for ages, since we had been at school in fact. Secondly my two friends were what is known as posers. Yeh, I guess they were both good looking but nobody ever fancied themselves more then these two did. The way they stood, the way they dressed, every feature of their body language said look at me, don't you admire me ?
In the communal changing rooms at school, when we had all been younger, before and after after games while the rest of us would simply get on with what we had to do - showering, dressing and so on, those two would take their time posing either naked or at the most scantily dressed in order that all about them could appreciate their physical form. It was no different that night in my room. I stripped down to my boxers and dived beneath the covers. David wearing the tightest pair of briefs imaginable dithered about folding his clothes, unfolding them, folding everything again then placing all into a sports bag. Peter leaned nonchalantly against the wall smoking a cigarette. I wondered if it tasted better clad only in his underpants.
When eventually he had drawn the last breath of smoke, passed it through his lungs and exhaled to pollute the breathing space of the tiny room he sighed: "Oh well time for a wank and then off to sleep."
Yeh, like most guys I have a wank more evenings than not and that day wasn't going to be any different. But it would have been a slow wank in private under the covers when the light was out and without either of my friends being aware. I mean that sort of thing should be in private shouldn't it ?
"Good idea," David said. "Can't sleep properly without my evening wank."
Peter tucked his two thumbs into the elastic waist band of his pants. "Is that OK with you Nigel ?"
I shrugged my shoulders.
"It's your place after all."
"Don't mind me," I said. "You go ahead and enjoy yourself."
Peter seductively pushed down the top of his underpants to reveal a line of black pubic hair. Then with a ping of the elastic released his thumbs to allow all to return to its normal position, normal that is save for a bulging point at the front.
Now it is time for me to confess something to you, something which at this moment is still a bit of a secret. I guess in time it will become more widely known but now I am confiding in you. The thing is for as long as I can remember, pre-adolescence even, I have been attracted to the male physique. I had fantasised many, many times but until that night had never done anything about my second and secret side. How many times I had wanked imagining I was in the company of other horny guys I can not tell, too many for me to count, but there and then my two friends were issuing an invitation which would make my dream come true.
And yet I was hesitant, My friends were natural born posers and while I am not exactly reserved, by their side I would appear shy and slow to push myself forward. I guess they were used to the position I took in their company so if I were to suddenly start to take a lead in this all-male matter they could well suspect my secret thinking. But I am quite good at moving people the way I want them to go, the right word planted at the right time and often without notice can bring forth the desired end result. I am also quite keen on fishing: placing the bait in the right place, letting the fish nibble then striking to catch it on the hook before skilfully playing through the water all the way to the net without breaking the line. I resolved to use both of these talents in this situation to aid my advantage.
"Nothing wrong in having a wank," I said, "we all do it and let's face it so does almost half of the population. It is an ancient and noble art form."
"You are right," Peter said returning his thumbs to the waistband of his pants.
"I think it is an art form which is greatly unrecognised," David smiled. "I mean more people engage in it than go to the opera or an exhibition of paintings." "More than go to football matches or rock concerts," Peter added.
"Perhaps we should apply for a lottery grant or funding from the Arts Council," I suggested.
"We could start a school," Peter said pushing his waistband down again, "The Foreskin Academy For Wankers !"
"And we can be the three founding professors," I suggested.
Peter was teasing again and his pubic hair line was showing but nothing more. David continued to pose but made no move to commence the final preparation needed by dropping those mega tight briefs. I was still in my bed and sporting inside my boxers one of the stiffest hard ons I have ever had. How much I wanted to get out, to be naked and turn all those years of dreaming into reality. But I had to continue with my skills for a little while longer.
"How often do you wank ?" I asked, the question equally addressed to both of my friends.
"Every day," Peter said pushing his elastic down another fraction of an inch. "Sometimes twice a day."
"Always twice a day, often three times and four if I can fit things into my schedule," David said upstaging Peter.
"You ever done this together ?' I continued. "Before like ?" There was a feigned note of curiosity in my voice.
David looked at Peter then they both looked at me. They gave no answer but their faces confirmed everything.
"Sorry," I said, "it's just that I've never shared a wank with a guy before."
Peter responded by pushing the right waist band low to reveal his groin. "And you want to become a tutor in a wanking school ?"
"Stop being a tart," David said. "You are embarrassing Nigel !"
"No, no - I'm not embarrassed," I assured. "I'm quite happy to have a wank with you two if you want to."
Peter responded by pushing the left of his waist band hard down forcing his cock out at a right angle to his body and fully exposing his thick dark bush of pubic hair.
"I don't know why you don't just get them off," David scolded. "Or are they stuck ?"
I moved to get out of bed in preparation for my own part in the forthcoming activities. Moments later the three of us were quite naked and ready to practise the all male ritual of having a wank.
Looking at my two friends as they then posed one hundred percent naked I guessed they did, in their own separate rights, have sufficient about each one to be proud of.
David was a short but well built muscular guy who was then into cycling and water ski-ing. I guess the two sports combined to give him a fit body. He was blonde with almost shoulder length hair, a bit old fashioned for the time but I liked it. That colour was replicated in sparse body hair and a well proportioned bush resting just above the place of his manhood. And that manhood was a fine six inches, solid and thick, supported by two firm and quite large balls hanging below.
Like David Peter had longer than normally styled hair although his was dark and wavy.
Sorry if any of my readers are cropped guys but I have this thing about long hair and a theory about guys who shave their heads. If anyone is not too bright I guess that removing ninety-nine percent of their hair might just make it possible for a bit more oxygen to get to the brain and liven up areas of duller cells. Nah, each to his own - it's just that I prefer guys with longer hair.
Peter's body was fit and tanned all over, I wondered how he achieved such an olive look. Perhaps he had a sun bed, perhaps it was by way of lotion or it could even be natural. If it wasn't natural then he had his own way of achieving an all over tan. Peter's cock, if anything, was very slightly larger than David's - a thick solid rod as it sprang out of confinement within those underpants. As for his bum, a firmer and cuter ass you never have seen.
Each one of us kind of took a special moment to look at the other two, such observations strengthening the resolve which projected upward from between our legs.
I was the first to take a hold of my dick, clasping it firmly in my clenched right hand. How good it felt both in the purely physical sense and beyond that in the deeper emotional now that many of my fantasised dreams were coming true.
Peter shuffled his legs slightly to move his feet about eighteen inches apart, put his left hand behind his head and his right into the position where he could begin to use it for its primary purpose. A smile flashed his teeth then he said softly, "Watch and learn, watch and learn."
Yes I would watch and yes I would learn.
"You really are a tart aren't you ?" David scoffed. "As if you have anything you could teach us. What do you think Nigel ?"
"Oh I'm learning a lot from my two friends," I replied slowly starting a beat.
The banter continued but as the practical side of what we were about increased so the verbal chat declined. But it did not stop a million thoughts silently passing through my brain. How many times did a guy wank in a life time ? Thousands ? Tens of thousands ? More ? How many times had I wanked at that youthful age ? Loads. There is something quite strange about wanking, special I mean. No matter how many times you do it, it never loses its attraction. Suppose you were to eat your favourite food every day, wouldn't you soon get bored with it ? In this case the maxim of familiarity breeding contempt does not apply. Every wank you have is special and good but that first time with other guys, my two friends, was extra special.
Of course it didn't take long at all for anyone to cum once we had started to wank in earnest, there was cum flying everywhere - what a mess ! Wonderful !
And so it was that I learned what it was like to share the basic male art with a couple of good friends.
Our trip to Calais and the hypermarkets passed off without event. With plenty of time to spare before the return ferry to England and home we drove out towards the Belgian border, turned off the main road and found a quiet private spot. There we all had another cracking good wank - just for the spirit of entente cordial. or was it more a case of keeping the British end up ?
The Peter Trilogy Part Two
AN EVENING WITH PETER
Part Two in my Peter Trilogy. Things now move on considerably.
Nigel
It was a bloody silly idea if you ask me and thank goodness we never went beyond the preliminary stages. As a business venture it was destined to failure and a financial collapse to rival Maxwell, Enron and Laker Airways. Peter was the one who came up with the idea but I was the one who picked it up and vigorously enthused about it then went on to make the arrangements for us to spend the week-end in Cornwall and check out possibilities.
You will remember Peter from my earlier story Learning More About My Two Friends. We were good mates back then in our early twenties and after the tale I shared with you previously Peter and I had become occasional wank-buddies.
Cornwall in November, now there's a prospect for you. We left at four in the morning on a dark Saturday driving through the blackness until dawn made its attempt at breaking over Bodmin Moor. It failed. The car's windscreen wipers thrashed back and forth but their attempt at producing visibility was ever on the brink of failure. As I drove on I could feel the wind gusting and battering the side of the small car, trying to push me off the road.
Once outside the relative comfort of the car the wind and rain penetrated our clothing and sought to tear into our very flesh. My hair fell about my scalp, face and neck feeling like fingers of ice gripping me. My feet were wet and cold, everything was wet and cold ! Pneumonia was inevitable.
We knew from the outset that the idea was a non-starter and by two o'clock what little light had manage to penetrate the gloom of the day was rapidly fading to give way to premature dusk. Deciding to give up on our plan to make a fortune we made our way to the small holiday flat we had rented for the week-end where warmth and a change of clothing offered a most valuable elixir. Driving into the village of St Merryn we surveyed the prospects for the evening. There was a fish and chip shop and a small pub. After the day we had both appeared very inviting.
"Which would you prefer," Peter asked, "bath or shower ?"
"Bath," I said.
So we were to attend to our ablutions simultaneously, I presumed it was Peter's invitation to start one of our man-to-man sessions and I wasn't going to object. I guess we had indulged in such enjoyment three or four times since the events I recounted in my earlier story. Peter always controlled things, took the initiative and I presumed this was the prelude to another such time of fun but I was wrong. As my friend undressed for the shower it was clear I was totally wrong, he was quite limp and showed no sign of any arousal.
"Down boy," I said to myself addressing that heavy feeling between my legs. "Not tonight, never mind."
The water was deliciously hot and soothed away the bitter chill of the day. While I languished in the bath Peter finished his shower, towelled dry then paraded naked about the bathroom as we chatted. He was incredibly good looking and knew it, he was never short of female admirers but I and just a small select group knew how he also enjoyed intimate male company. We'd known each other since school and even then he liked to display all he had for the appreciation of others. In the changing room after sports while others would shower and dress quickly Peter would always end up naked and the last to put on any clothes. It was as if he was saying: Hey guys look at me - don't you wish you had what I've got ? Nothing had changed.
He stood facing me, left foot on the towel box and right on the tiled floor. This stance allowed his dick and balls to fall into the open space between his legs. From this arrangement descended two muscular thighs, shins and calves which could have been formed by Michaelangelo himself. Above a six pack and chest rippled upwards and sprouted intricately placed hair. Beaming across his face Peter had such a cheeky grin that told so much without the need for words.
I felt beneath the water to rest a hand between my legs, I knew we were up for some fun that night but, as always, Peter would have to decide when.
"What do you say we check out that chippy then give the local landlord the benefit of our patronage ?"
"Sounds good to me," I replied.
The chips were good and the genuine Cornish pasties first class. Not so the local pub. It was deserted and void of any atmosphere. The barman appeared to be brain dead and did not appreciate our disturbing his evening with custom. We'd have moved on but as we had both drunk two pints driving wasn't an option.
"Back to the flat then," Peter said, "and an early night."
I drained my glass and nodded.
"Time for some fun. What do you say ?"
I nodded again but this time with a purpose.
In the bedroom there were two beds, Peter placed our bags on one leaving just the other free. I was sitting at its head resting back on the pillow. "I wondered if you may be up to try something new," he said.
I was up and bursting out of my underpants.
As soon as we were naked, and that didn't take long, Peter began to explain all. "I went to this gay sauna last week," he said. "I found it advertised on the Net and thought I'd check it out. I went on my own and wasn't sure what would happen."
"What did happen ?" I asked.
Peter squatted at the end of the bed. "This guy let me fuck him," he grinned. "I've never done that before. I don't have clue who he was but I can tell you it was bloody great.
"Curious," I said. It was an odd thing to say in response.
Peter grinned, his white teeth gleaming. "They say that curiosity kills the cat but I say curiosity is the mother of all learning and knowledge. Thing is I'm now wondering what it is like to be fucked and I also wondered if you would be so kind as to oblige me ?"
There are some things in life which take years and years of study, other which require painful practice and finely tuned skills and there are those which are pure instinct and need no teacher as they are part of our makeup from birth. This felt very natural indeed.
When Peter and I had enjoyed some fun together over recent weeks he had explained to me that he was neither gay nor was he bisexual but belonged to a group which is yet to be fully appreciated. "Male bonding," he explained. "Delight in the male only company and the appreciation of the nude male form; both being nude and with others who are nude. It was very familiar in Ancient Greece and Rome. There is a very special sense of spirit in guys being together and exploring their deep masculine relationship."
I knew what he meant although I regarded myself more towards being bisexual, even gay. I had read once how the society created within the German SS with its recruiting only perfect physical specimens then building a strong all-male society was rife throughout with man-sex activity.
All of these thoughts flashed through my mind as peter suggested I take my own man experiences to a higher level. Yes, I wanted to do so very much and instinct not only told me it was right but also told me the exact procedure I was to follow. I said nothing to Peter by way of indicating my acceptance but he could read my mind. He winked, rolled over and then pushed himself up on all fours.
He had the most beautiful arse, two bronzed cheeks tanned like the rest of his body. I knelt behind him and rested a palm on each. Electric waves moved slowly but firmly up my arms, through my chest and stomach down, down to between my legs. Gently I parted those cheeks and steered my way towards the awaiting delight which lay between them. I wondered what it would feel like, if entry would be hard or not, if it would hurt in any way but I didn't hesitate.
I could feel my foreskin stretching back as I initially penetrated my friend. Peter let out a deep and sensuous sigh. My hands moved onto his back and pressed hard the tips of every finger into the awaiting flesh. My cock moved in deeper and deeper. It was an incredible and most wonderful sensation. I was being held firmly yet gently and erotically inside my friend. Instinct told me to pull back slightly the push in again. I followed my instinct, an action I repeated several times. It was wonderful.
"Let's try something different," Peter said.
I withdrew and lifted my hands from Peter's back. He turned to lay flat on the bed looking up at me as I knelt between his legs. He raised those legs, pulling hard on his stomach muscles then lowered one onto each of my shoulders. Pulling towards me he hooked his feet behind my neck then raised himself to again present that exquisite arse towards me. For a second time I entered but joy was compounded and unspeakable as my hands traced their way along each side of his groin to seize his throbbing cock. I moved it to point towards me and wished it were only possible to take it in my mouth.
I was resting deep inside Peter and had made no external motion but of its own volition my cock was twitching and stimulating itself. I could see Peter's face grinning up at me and again there was a transfer of thought.
"Take me."
I had been making a conscious effort not to cum. I released my mind and allowed an ejaculation of liquid fire to flow. It felt so good.. While that of me outside Peter was still that inside kicked and pumped until I was totally spent. I withdrew. Peter lay back on the bed and I turned to lay next to him my hand resting inside his groin.
"Well now I have both given and taken," he said. "Thank you for satisfying my curiosity. "Yes, it is better to receive I think. Shall I show you ?"
I said nothing, I didn't need to. I rolled over and lay flat on my stomach.
The Peter Trilogy Part Three
ALADDIN
We called him Aladdin because he was always rubbing his lamp ! Man that guy could wank for England.
Charlie was his real name and a greater guy you couldn't hope to meet and in this little story I'd simply like to tell you of his main claim to fame. Charlie was always joking about his favourite hobby, he would come into the college common room and openly tell all about his latest activity.
"Shoot, I had a cracking wank last night before bed but it was nothing compared to the one I had in the shower this morning !"
I don't think that Charlie was gay or anything, even bi and not curious -- he just enjoyed wanking and wasn't shy about telling anyone. Sure we teased him but we didn't make fun or laugh at him -- we laughed with him. After all we were all at it in our own and different ways.
I was doing an extra year at the FE college after sixth form, I wanted to boost one of my A Level grades before university. Charlie was preparing to go to vet school and had the ambition to work in Africa on a game reserve. It was Charlie's work within the college science department that sparked off the train of events I am here about to share with you.
Charlie had obtained special permission to work in the lab one Saturday in order to check on an experiment he was running with fruit flies. I was going to watch the football, Villa against Spurts, with Charlie and a mutual friend -- Pete, we had called into the college on the way to the game. So in a cold and empty biology wing Charlie checked on the progress of his fruit flies while Pete and I mused about. Pete started to play with a microscope which had been left out on one of the benches.
"Hey Charlie, do you reckon if we put your dick under this microscope we would be able to see why everyone calls you Aladdin ?"
"Yeh," I added, "would we see anything special about it ?"
"You don't need a microscope to see that !" Charlie exclaimed. "Quite the opposite."
Charlie got on with his work and tried to ignore our quips. Pete continued to fool about with the microscope. He poked a pencil in front of the lens, then a finger.
"This aint no good I can't see anything."
"I think your finger is too big," I tried to explain.
"It's only for looking at small things."
"Well that aint much good is it ?"
Charlie finished what he was doing then ambled over to join us. He was grinning from ear to ear and there was a wink of sheer cunning in his eye. He started to hand us small glass slide. "One for you, one for you and one for me."
"What are these ?"
"For the microscope."
"What about it ?"
Charlie laughed softly. "We each wank onto one them we put them under the microscope and see who's got the biggest sperm count."
"If I cum," Peter scoffed, "I'd flood this silly piece of glass."
"You only need to put a little bit on the glass -- silly !" Charlie said with a firm note of dare in his voice.
Now I have to confess to you that I had wanked that very morning, I'd woken up with a real boner and had shot a brilliant load before I got out of bed. I wasn't sure how much I could manage a second time.
"I think we'd better be off to the football," I said attempting to divert the conversation.
"That's ages away, or is it that your balls are empty ?"
How did he know ?
"No !" I retorted.
"I had a wank last night and again this morning," Charlie said, "but I'd have no problem squirting again now."
"But you are a world champion," I observed.
Pete looked at me. I said nothing and tried to give away nothing. Then he looked at Charlie and said, "Ok, but the one with the lowest count buys the burgers at half-time."
Well it would be a laugh wouldn't it ? I guessed I could manage it again, I was young and fit after all. Just so long as Charlie didn't broadcast it all over the student common room the next week.
Peter started to seductively slide the zipper on his jeans down, twisting his hips and making the motions of a stripper; not that I have ever seen a stripper male or female. He started to sing softly.
"Dah, dah, dah, dah -- boom -- boom !"
But while Peter was slowly revealing his manhood and I was thinking what to do next Charlie had his jeans off and leaned against the science bench his tight underpants showing the line of a good hard on. He peeled off his shirt and stood there wearing just a pair of tight, white briefs.
Peter undid the front of his shirt then dropped his jeans and pants to hold out a beautiful semi-hard cock.
Ok, my turn. Off with the shirt and my adolescent upper torso was on view. Undo the belt, top button, down with the zip -- feeling a bit nervous and slightly shy -- then out in the open. By this time Charlie's pants were long gone leaving three fine dicks stripped and ready for action. It did feel good, as I recall it felt very good. This was a dare but it was also a challenge and I have to tell you that as I type this and recall all that happened I am as hard on as ever. I could not help but look at my friends and compare the relative aspects of our three dicks.
Do you want me to tell you about them ?
I guess you probably do.
Charlie -- blonde hair and blonde pubes, well hung balls and a sound six inches uncut.
Peter- dark hair with a gentle bush of pubic hair. Dick a bit bigger than Charlie and again uncut but with a foreskin so well stretched back and the head bursting for action it could have been easy to mistake this particular physical aspect of my friend.
Ok -- me.
I'm about six inches and have brown hair. I like to keep my pubes nicely trimmed, always have. As I lowered my jeans I was only semi-hard but by the time they cleared my knees I was rock solid.
So time for action. Each with our microscope slide we started the action needed to undertake this experiment. Peter was thrusting away with his right hand firmly clenching the shaft of his cock. His actions were firm and frequent. Charlie was slower, gentle but purposeful. I was thinking that I had done this at home just a few hours earlier and hoped I was going to be able to cum with a satisfactory load. It wasn't long before I began to drip some precum, I'd be Ok.
"Ready to shoot guys ?" Charlie enquired.
I nodded.
"When ever you want ?" Peter said.
I squirted high into the air and lifted the glass to catch some of my valuable liquid before it fell to the floor. Peter was busy doing the same. But both of us were concentrating a share of our efforts on Charlie. I would never have thought it possible for anyone to cum as much as he did. There was no end to it. No little dribble there, not even a normal squirt but a thrusting flood like a jet from a fireman's hose.
Bloody hell that guy could cum. I remember wondering when ever was he going to stop. It was quite amazing.
"Caretaker quick !" We could hear him coming along the corridor.
Never have three guys dressed so quickly. There were trousers, pants, shirts and sperm flying all over the place. Mine got inside my pants and felt all sticky against my body. I could feel the glue setting in my pubes.
"You lot ready to go yet ? I want to lock up."
"We've only just cum," Charlie laughed.
"Just come or not, it's time for my break so hurry up."
That was a close one. So we left and that rather concludes my little story of Aladdin, you know I have to admire that guy -- I wish I could wank like that. Yes, Charlie did go on to become a vet and he did go to work in a game reserve somewhere in the world. I sometimes think about him and that Saturday afternoon. Good old Charlie, we called him Aladdin because he was always rubbing his lamp, and where ever he is right now I'm sure he has not lost the art. If ever they made wanking an Olympic sport Charlie would carry of the gold for England. To be honest I think Pete and I could take the silver and the bronze.
Well I hope you enjoyed my tale -- let me know what you think: horny_writer@hotmail.com and check all my stories on my own website: http://www.nationwideauthors.com
Nigel