Like most senior high school Kid, there were a clump of us that hung out alot. We 'd jest around, apply each other a difficult time, tease each other, normal kid stuff. And like nigh mathematical group of kids that age, some of us had cars, and some of us had to borrow our parents'from clock time to time ...

It was the weekend, and we had decided to go to a popular hangout, a lake about an minute drive away, that had microscope slide and platforms to jump from, probably best described as the 80s equivalent of a piss car park. By today 's standards it was n't practically, but there were normally a lot of hoi polloi there on summertime weekends ( and lots of girls for us to oogle at ) and it was fun.

After we piled in the car to head dwelling house after a long day horsing around, we headed out, and it became unclutter pretty spry that we were all tired. I started to nod off, but felt bad for our driver, Frank. I asked, he assured me that he was good for the ride home, and to go ahead and sleep. I leaned back and settled in for the drive.

I do n't do it how long I had been out for, but when I awoke I noticed that Ken, my backseat comrade, had also fallen asleep, and in doing so had leaned over on his side and was using the armrest in the middle of the backseat as a pillow. He was out. I leaned back against the door, sort of one-half sitting, one-half laying, diagonally across my incline of the seat. I once again settled in and allowed myself to nod off.

The next time I stirred and awoke, I felt something resting on my trunk. I glanced down, and saw that it was Ken 's arm. While his script came to rest across me on my hip, his articulatio radiocarpea was resting directly on my hawkshaw. And being the Whitney Moore Young Jr. and sexually inexperienced guy that I was ( that we all were at that compass point ), that was all it took, and with just that little bit of pressure I could find myself starting to get hard ... I looked, and Ken appeared to be asleep. I did n't move, tried my best to seem to continue to catch some Z's, and tried to will my dick back down. It was n't working. After a day of gawking at all of the eubstance on the beach, just a petty air pressure was apparently all it took to get me going, and I could feel myself stiffening as I lay there.

Afraid of being found out and worried that my friends would tease me for being gay ( not a cool thing back in those day ) I tried to align and get out from under his arm without appearing to be awake. No trade good. At the like time, I noticed something else ... there was something within me that thoroughly enjoyed having something else - someone else - touching my tool. While I did n't want to be discovered, I also did n't want it to end ...

I really had shuffle feelings inside, but decided to try to do something about it. I 'awoke', and sat up somewhat. indisputable enough, Ken, in his sleep, withdrew his arm. Not completely, but at least it was n't resting on my now fully-hard pecker anymore. I asked weenie if he was still good to drive, to which he said he was. I adjusted, grabbed my towel and covered myself up, not so much to persist affectionate as to hide my hardon from showing through my swim short pants. I slid back down into my previous lieu to try to nod back off. It was then that I began to distrust that Ken might not make been as benumbed as I had previously suspected ...

As I slid back down to get comfortable and go back to sleep, Ken 's arm simultaneously slid back over to its previous position, with his wrist once again wresting directly on my shaft. And being fully hard, every bump we hit stimulated me as I could feel him on me. There was no way I was going to be capable to catch some Z's, so I faked it. I lay there, my mind racing as I argued within myself over the wrongness of it against the raw joy I was enjoying ...

After just a few hour I noticed that sometimes as we hit a bump Ken 's arm would sometimes almost seem to rub my toilsome tool. Through barely open eyes, so as to appear benumbed, I looked down to tax the situation ... when I did, I saw Ken glance up ever so slightly, seeing if I was awake. A-ha ! He was awake, and knew what he was doing ! There was no mistake about it. I was pretty indisputable he did n't know I was awake, so I continued to misrepresent sleep.

We continued that way for a number of miles, bumping along the road, me rock gruelling, enjoying the sentience I was receiving. Then I felt it unmistakably ... he was pushing harder than he had previously ... so I looked down, and as I did, saw him looking up back at me ... the jig was up. He also knew that I was awake ...

What he did next took me totally by surprise ... he 'adjusted'in his sopor ( at least it would come out that way to anyone looking on ) and in doing so, pulled his arm back just a few inches ... and under the towel, he straight on grabbed my prick. He squeezed it ever so slightly. It felt like electricity was coursing through my body ...

This was something totally new to me. Sure, as guy we 'd leave each other a concentrated time, occasionally make antic about puke being gay or something like that, but never were serious about it. Just teenage fun, right ? But this ... holy shit. This was ill-timed, but so fun ...

Ken laid there, appearing to kip, but his helping hand gently began to search my rigid prick through my drawers ... I was in both heaven and hell at the same meter. I did n't know what to think, but I knew I was enjoying it, and did n't want it to stop. Now it was my routine ...

I 'adjusted'in my sleep, and turned my articulatio coxae more toward Ken, to give him a piddling punter access code, and to also let him know that I was enjoying what he was doing. He realized what I was doing, and if what he did before surprised me, I was about to be totally traumatize ...

He once more 'adjusted'in his sleep, and under the cover of the towel, with his hand that was 'under'him, found the leg possible action of my swimming costume. He pulled it up and away and slid his bridge player inside my suit to grab my dick. When he felt the mesh in my suit, I could feel him fishing to get inside, which he quickly did, and grabbed my shaft. Let me just say this ... if it felt alike electrical energy before, this felt like nuclear power or something ...

Through barely open eyes I looked forward, and realized that neither of them in the face seat had the little idea of what was going on with Ken and I. Between knowing that they were clueless, and the hot pants that I could feel quickly building inside me, I became slightly bold. I could find Ken slowly exploring my dick with his hand, and in rejoinder I rolled my pelvis, gently and slowly thrusting into his hand ... I had given myself over to the state of affairs, totaly abandoned to any feelings of guilt or wrongness, purely enjoying the lust of the state of affairs, wanting for More ...

It was at this peak that apparently Ken though it would be fun to ratchet it up a mountain pass, and push the envelope.

He pulled his script from my boxershorts, which naturally made me look to see what was going on. He was looking up at me, making sure that I saw what he was doing. He quietly pulled his handwriting from beneath the towel, slyly looked up at me with a grin, and licked his pollex but respectable ... He stuck his hand immediately back into my trunks, firmly grabbing my still punishing prick ... but this metre, he ran his spit-slicked ovolo on the bottom of my cockhead, right where it meets the shaft ... Wow. I had never experienced anything like this ... and it became manifest to me that this was n't something that I could persist in very long ... the sensations, the knock-down buildup inside me, it felt like it was coming from the centre of my being ....

Sure, at that point in my liveliness, I had played with myself probably C of times. But this was different. This was someone else doing it to me. And it was my crony Ken, who I 'd known for years, and never talked about anything like this ... and it just felt like I was going to explode ...

I reached over and grabbed his hand through my bathing costume, squeezing it to sign that he should stop. He did, looking up at me. I shook my headland, ever so slightly, indicating no. I felt him pull his hand, indicating that he would withdraw. I let his deal go.

What I did n't notice was that his former manus stayed exactly where it was, holding open the leg of my suit ...

He withdrew his mitt, but this time, while coyly glancing up at me, licked his whole ribbon, slathering on as a good deal spit as he could, and reached up again into my trunks, but this prison term with both hands ... with his 'dry'hand he grabbed my shaft firmly, and with his other, gently grabbed my head, allowing it to slide around in his medal ... Within me I could feel that tension ... wanting him to cover, but not ... and now I could palpate that familiar twinge, knowing it would n't be long until I could no longer hold it ...

I once again grabbed his hand, urging him to give up. He pulled his hand out once more, licked it good, and again slid it back in my shorts exactly where it had been, and continued sliding his hired hand over my hawkshaw, urging me on ... it had become a game. Both of us knew that if he did this much longer, I 'd fall behind dominance and shoot my encumbrance. So I 'd stop him, he 'd hesitate for just a moment, and then continue to give me this obtuse and slippery handjob beneath the towel, licking his decoration again every so often ...

Suddenly I heard Frank, and my pith stopped thinking that maybe we 'd been discovered. All was good, and he announced that we were approaching my theater, that I 'd probably need to get up and gather my stuff.

Ken and I separated and sat up. We had n't been discovered. As I got out of the car I made sure to withstand my towel low to hide the tent in my suit. I was trying to think of something to say, reaching for a ground that Ken should get out ... but as I thought, everyone said bye, and just like that, they all pulled away. Now I knew exactly what was meant by the terminus blue-balls.

I went in the house, and to my joy discovered that my parents had gone out. It was, after all, a Saturday evening. I raced upstairs and into the shower, still hard from the natural process of the afternoon. I could n't wait to relinquish all the tension that I was feeling ...

I soaped up, grabbed my peter, and started tugging, allowing my mind to go back to the car ride ...

It took almost no time and I felt that familiar spirit impression, my gumshoe throbbing as it readied for liftoff ... as I exploded into my medallion I fantasized that it was Ken rubbing my cock, still in that backseat ... I could sense jet after jet, shooting harder and farther than ever before, fueled by the tabu persuasion of doing this with my buddy ...

I knew at that point that something was going to chance between us. I did n't get laid when, and I did n't know how, but I knew I was going to make it happen.

And as fate would make it, I would n't take in to wait long ....

~~~~~~~~~~

If you want to hear more, let me recognise in the comments and I 'll write out our subsequent adventure .