Sam and Toby

Sam laid on his bed, smiling, eyes closed. He was happy. More than happy. He was elated: his first kiss. And with Toby, with whom he’d been fascinated with for a while. It wasn’t as perfect as it could have been, but it was damn close. He stretched and placed his hands behind his head, reliving the moment: the touch of Toby’s hands to his face, his dark eyes, looking up to him from behind those lashes, emanating anger, lust and passion all at the same time. How his lips felt: warm, though not as soft as he expected. Nothing’s perfect, he thought. Sam didn’t want perfection, he wanted realness. He wanted actuality. And that’s what Toby gave him. 

His body squirmed as he remembered Toby’s tongue: large and wet prodding his mouth. Sam wished he could kiss like that. With practice, he thought, surely, he’d be just as good. But the two things he liked that he didn’t expect was the body heat he felt from Toby when they embraced. It seemed hotter than normal. Not ‘hot’ as in sexual, but ‘hot’ as in temperature. The other thing was the sound their lips made together: the wet, scratching sound. It was intoxicating, as his shorts shown by his rapidly growing cock. 

Sam felt his own body warming up as he replayed the experience through over and over again in his mind. He pulled his shirt up and rubbed his stomach. Ever since he’s toned up, for some reason his stomach had become more sensitive. Maybe it was the definition it had now. Maybe it was the treasure trail that recently erupted. Whatever the case, it’s normally where he started with himself on the physical level. 

Imagining Toby’s lips on his, he pushed his hand up, against the grain, tracing the hair until where it blossomed and spread left and right onto his pecs. Sam has never been ‘all about the body’ – it’s been more about the face and personality. That said, in the past several months, he’s started noticing not only other people’s bodies, but his own. And enjoying them. He shot up three or so inches tall in a recent growth spurt, hair sprouted most everywhere and his voice, while still cracking here and there, seems to have settled into a somewhat gruff rumble. 

His smile was replaced with the face he made when pleased himself, as his long fingers found his right nipple. Small but filled with nerve endings, he knew that this was a spot in which he liked to take his time. He rubbed the bud itself, as it relayed electricity through his chest. His mouth agape, breathing heavily, he lightly moaned as his finger and thumb pinched his tiny bud then pulled at the long hairs surrounding it. Being home alone, he could hear the sound his nails made as he moved his hand to mid-chest, scraping the skin and tuft of hair that now lived there. He grabbed as much hair as he could and tugged slightly, the feeling of almost pulling his hair out of its follicles sent ripples of pain through his body, which his brain somehow turned into pleasure. 

In an instant of lust, he rose up and pulled his shirt off, dropping it to his side, returning his hand to his pecs. The free hand, meanwhile, pushed its way down his stomach, pushing along the grain of hair growth, and down into his waist band. He clenched his fist, pulling his vast amounts of pubic hair firmly, causing his still growing dick to plump. Pulling his hand out, he quickly unbuttoned his shorts, kicking them and his boxers off.

He lay there, naked (save for the shorts and boxers hanging off his left foot). Sam didn’t move, allowing the airconditioned air to try to cool his burning body. Normally, this worked. But it didn’t seem to be working this time. His ‘burning’ seemed to be coming from another source.

Opening his eyes, he sat up on the edge of his bed. He looked down at his body. He studied his forearms, which had a light dusting of dark hair on them as they laid on top of his hairy thighs. He looked at how the hair increased as it got closer to crotch. He wondered what Toby looked like naked. He’d seen him shirtless at the pool, but not recently. I wonder what he’d think of me now, Sam thought. 

Sam wanted to make sure he pleases Toby with his looks. To be honest, Sam always knew he was ‘cute’ but he didn’t know if that would be enough for Toby. Sure, Toby likes him. But could he turn Toby on like he turned himself on? Was Toby a top or bottom? What was he, for that matter, he thought? 

He stood up, naked, in front of the closet mirror like he did so often. He turned and looked at himself in profile, ankles to head. He liked what he saw. He was physically proud of himself for the first time in, well, forever. He looked down and saw his one-eyed monster. I wonder… he thought. 

He pilfered through his desk until he found his ruler. He placed it against the base of his cock and tried to measure it. Due to the curve, he couldn’t get an exact measurement; best he could do was get a measurement of a little over 8½ inches in length. He had nothing to measure the girth, but he knew he couldn’t close his hand around it fully and have his fingers touch. Curiosity set in. He tossed the straight edge into the desk drawer and pulled up Google on his computer. In a few keystrokes he found a ‘average penis length’ site. It showed the average length in the USA as 6½ inches. That caused his chest to puff up: he was above average! Hopefully that’s enough for Toby, he thought. Toby…

Sam stood in front of the mirror and grabbed his ‘a little over 8½ inched’ dick, tried to close his fingers around it but to no avail. No matter – that’s never stopped him before. His hand started slowly moving up to the head, where his tight grip couldn’t pass his flared head, back down to the hairy base, then back. Up and down and up and down, starting off slowly and picking up the pace quicker. The plan was to do this for a couple minutes, then finish on the bed, but his body had other plans. 

Before he could step back to the bed, his legs started to shake, and that familiar feeling instantly brewed inside him without warning. He made some sort of high pitched moan – a bit unexpected, if one were to see this beautiful young, masculine man for the first time. He started to fall forward on weak legs. Instinctively he braced himself up with his left arm as his groin twisted and pumped out a massive amount of cum, all over the mirror. He gasped with each shot, trying to inhale and exhale at the same time. He shot so hard and fast the first three blast hit the mirror with an audible and wet ‘thwack’ sound, showering blow-back all over the wall, carpet and himself.  

Sam was taken aback at such violence and force his body was capable of without him knowing. He watched, helplessly, as his legs bent more and more, his body slowly sinking to the floor as he coated the closet mirror with more of his ‘liquid Sam’. The palm of his hand, which he was using to prop him up was now covered in sweat. He heard it squeak, sliding down the mirrored finish as his body, in slow motion, began to fall. 

During this time, his hand had stopped jerking while he shot his big canon at the mirror. His head and face, now bright red with orgasmic euphoria, glowed in the reflection. As his third leg started subsiding, only blasting a few, less violent shots, he forced his legs to work, and they, somehow, pushed him back up to his upright, tall stature.

Pushing himself back from leaning on the mirror, standing fully erect (pun intended), he was able to get his lungs full. His head, now somewhat back to normal mentally, allowed him to focus on his body as he stood there, large dick still in hand, with globs of white liquid hanging from it, suspended in an almost invisible string or stickiness.

“Shit” he hoarsely said as he used his other hand to prevent those three or four hanging balls of semen to hit the carpet. Now, with sperm in one hand, and sperm coating the other, he looked at the mess he made on the mirror. Where did this come from, he thought? Not the volume. But it seemed like he was standing there, innocently jacking, and as soon as Toby’s face materialized in his mind, he just exploded!

He laughed out loud, both proud and surprised by not only the mess he made, but how quickly he made said mess. Grabbing his shirt on the bed, he cleaned his one hand and stuck his head out of his room.

“Mom?” he called. He waited. Good, no answer, he thought.

He looked back at the mirror and wondered if Toby’s cum was this thick as his only runs when it mixes with water, previous experience has told him. He looked down at his dick, still large and hard and ready for more.

Jesus, he thought; I could go again. He walked into the bathroom, grabbed a towel, and returned to his room to clean the mess. He wiped it, smearing it against the glass. How’s it possible I just made a bigger mess, he wondered to himself? Cleaning off as much as he could with a dry towel, he returned with a wet one and finished, tossing both towels into the laundry basket. He pulled on his clothes and, to hide his shame, he started laundry.

Minutes after the washing machine had started, his mom entered the front door. Just in time, he thought.

“Hey mom” he said.

“Hey handsome” she said, walking into his room. “You start laundry?”

“Yeah. I had some things I wanted to have clean” he said.

“Thanks, son.” She sniffed his room. “Sam, you may want to clean you room. It smells like…” she stopped, Sam looking up at her form his phone. A look of deep thought, then surprise came on her face. “It just. Smells” she said before turning abruptly and walking away.