Boy Story

My earlier childhood was happy enough. My parents were loving and I had a great brother two years older than me who saw himself as my protector. Things went okay at school, I wasn't brilliant but did okay and I was pretty popular all round – nice looking, good at sports, always part of the in-crowd.

It was only when I reached puberty that a dark cloud seemed to be forming. Of course at that age boys start sniggering about sex and what they would like to do with girls. I wasn't particularly bothered because I was also curious and thought it all sounded exciting. What did disturb me a bit was the additional interest I was beginning to feel about other boys. Oh, I always got crushes on good looking guys in films or on TV but doesn't every boy at a certain age? I started to masturbate frequently when I was 13 but was disconcerted that the images I conjured up as I wanked off were never of girls but boys. It could be a guy I had seen on TV or a picture in a magazine of a handsome boy, particularly if he was partially naked. Even more disturbing were the images that would come into my mind of boy school friends – how they looked in their swim wear or in the showers, the bulges in their jeans and nice round butts, their sexy laughs and so on. I fantasized about how they would look naked, especially their cocks when they jacked off. I had read however that infatuation amongst young teens of the same sex was common so I wanked off without too much guilt.

By the time I got to be 16 I became more and more unhappy. My teenage hormones were raging but I was disturbed because I became increasingly turned on at the slightest sexual provocation concerning other boys or even older guys. Most of us had tried to experiment with girls by the time we were 16 but without much genuine success. Judging by the stories of my mates it wasn't for the want of trying! Most of the bragging we heard was clearly untrue but it was all part of guy posturing and strutting. Undoubtedly girls found me attractive and I managed to kiss a good many, which I was relieved to discover I did enjoy. Some let me feel their breasts, which was okay but not mind shattering for me. A few rubbed my bulge through my jeans and I certainly didn't have a problem with that and I really wanted them to go further and jerk me off. The only problem was that I always fantasized about a guy doing it to me rather than a girl. One girl was particularly hot for me and eager for me to put my hand up her dress. It was a big turn on, in a sort of illicit and mysterious way, until I got my hand inside her panties and felt her warm hairy wetness. More than a turn-off I actively didn't like it and made a lame excuse to get away. Then I was worried! I cannot begin to explain how wretched I felt – guilt, shame, confusion - this whole sex thing began to overshadow everything and spoil my life.

The best times where when a few of us boys would find a secluded place and have group wank off sessions. We would sit in the grass, in someone's house, wherever, and talk about girls, beating ourselves off to see who could come first. I think it was always me! They called me speedy Gonzalez and gave me lots of space because I would come with such force and distance! I knew that I came so strongly because wanking off with other boys was one of my hottest fantasies. Seeing other young teens with their trousers around their ankles pumping away at their cocks, their balls jerking around madly, brought me to an awesome ejaculation within a couple of minutes. My desperate desire was to have one of my friends wank me off and let me jerk him. I so longed for that to happen in real life. Just the thought of another boy's hand around my throbbing cock and me gripping his lovely prick and rubbing his balls made me shudder and was my most frequent wank off fantasy. I had no idea how or if I could make it become a reality. Of course, at 16, most boys are not keen to let on that their sexual preference is for guys rather than girls! Most people can be cruel but teens are perhaps the worse because they are driven almost entirely by image and what is expected of them. They have a mindless group mentality which almost nobody dare challenge, certainly not me.

A real low point came for me when I realized that I was lusting after my older brother who had always looked out for me. He was a very good looking 18yr old with a stunning body. Even though I was 16 he would still rough and tumble with me. I almost freaked because when he held me down or wrestled with me I would get a raging hard-on. The situation was made worse because I had often seen my brother naked. I saw him many times coming out of the bathroom with just a skimpy towel around his waist leaving little to the imagination. Nor was he shy about strutting around his bedroom naked with his huge fat cock flopping around above big hairy balls. His prick certainly appeared huge to me then. His lack of concern for privacy when I was around was pretty blatant. One time in particular his door was slightly ajar enough for me to see my brother jerking off on his bed with a shaving mirror situated between his legs so that he could watch his balls and cock as he pumped. I was certain then that he knew that I would see him and like me to wank him off. Oh boy, my pre-cum juices flowed just at the thought! He was blatant in other ways as well. I would get majorly turned on listening to the erotic noises of fervent masturbation coming from his room next to mine as he wanked himself off. He didn't bother to keep quiet and his groans and grunts were clear to me as I wanked off in my own bed listening to him. As he was about to shoot his load he would often gasp loudly, "Yes! Oh yeah!" over and over, accompanied by a furious rhythmic slapping sound. I imagined his balls slapping up and down between his wide spread legs and his foreskin jerked up and down over his dripping pre-cum soaked cock head. I tried to make myself come in time with his noisy orgasm, shooting my spunk all over my chest and stomach with such force that it made me dizzy. He was pretty casual about leaving evidence around and I couldn't stop myself poking around in his room. As soon as you opened his door you knew it was a guy's bedroom – there was that clear and distinctive musky, sweaty smell mixed with what I knew to be the odour of frequently ejaculated semen. I found his porn stash easily and, letting my imagination run wild, I had amazing wank off sessions examining his cum stains that were nearly always on his bed sheets. The best was where the times I discovered a wad of tissues under his bed stuck together with his stiff dried cum. I loved to smell his semen up close and feel the texture. Sometimes his spunk wasn't entirely dried up. Then I would lick it, even though it was a bit sticky and gooey. He clearly forgot about those used wads and I would take them back to my room and wank huge loads onto them myself, covering his cum with my own spunk, clearly remembering his ecstatic wank off noises from the night before. Deliberately mimicking his panting cries of, "Yes! Oh yeah!", I would shoot so strongly that my young balls ached. Often I masturbated again immediately making that wad of his absolutely soaked with spunk! I would keep those tissues for a long time and smell them when I wanked off another time. I felt so guilty about this but was driven by a lust that, frankly, was beyond me to control. Often at the point of coming I couldn't stop myself imagining that my cock was my brother's big fat prick that I was wanking off, and that my shooting spunk was squirting out of his jerking cock. Numerous times I tasted my own warm freshly ejaculated spunk, savoring the strong smell and silky creamy texture, almost believing that it had just been shot from my brother's balls instead of my own. My semen certainly tasted very much the same as his. (Perhaps my brother is for another story. It's hard to know how many incidences or how much ground to cover in one story, there was so much).

By the time I was 18 I was a real wreck. My whole demeanor had changed for the negative, everyone commented on it and asked me what was wrong. Of course I couldn't tell them. I had no-one I could confine in or, I thought, who would even remotely understand.

It came to a head one night when I had a few drinks in the local pub. I wasn't anywhere near drunk but I had a sort of emotional black out. When I came to my senses I was sobbing with my head on the table with a guy bending over me saying, "It's okay, it's okay." I had no idea what was going on but this guy had the presence of mind to walk me out of there and sit me in his car. I couldn't explain to him what was going on with me. I was just so mixed up and confused and, yes, filled with self-loathing, but had no idea how to put any of it into words. I felt completely spent and didn't resist when he suggested we go to his place for some strong coffee. On the way we only managed to exchange names. I'm Justin and he was a 22 year old guy named Rick.

At his place, with a mug of coffee each, he asked me what was going on. I just couldn't put how I felt into words. When I tried, I sobbed. Eventually I gave myself totally over to my misery and sobbed like a baby as he held me in his arms. Two mugs of coffee later I was able to talk, amazed that, once I had started, it all came out like water from a flood gate. I didn't care anymore. I was desperate and in a strange way relieved to be able to get my story out. Rick was superb. He said very little as I spoke, just enough to encourage me further, never giving the impression that he judged me in any way. I squirmed with embarrassment when I described about my brother. An hour and a half later I ground to a stop feeling exhausted. Rick was quiet for a long time but it was a comfortable silence. Eventually he stated that 90% of what I had told him wasn't very different to what most guys experienced and that sexual feelings were never strictly black and white, particularly during puberty and later teen years. He said in fact that many guys would be turned on by the very same things I had thought were wrong or deviant. He went on to say however that my sexual preference issue was something that needed to be clarified – not that any particular preference was a problem. It was only a problem when we were not clear about it and dealing with it properly, leading to the state I found myself in.

My heart sunk, "But Rick, how do I clarify it, who can I speak to, you are the first person I have ever been able to share this stuff with?"

"Maybe a psychologist, a suitable support group, or . . . . ."

"Or?"

"Me."

"You? But . . . . . .?"

"Maybe. The thing is Justin, remarkably, your story could be my own to some degree. I can at least understand where you're coming from and I do know how you feel. Look, I'm not qualified to offer you proper counseling but . . . ."

"Yes! Absolutely! You are the first person I have been able to talk to about this and I feel so comfortable speaking to you."

"Hmm, might not be appropriate, I mean I'm gay and 22 and you are a very cute, hot 18 year old guy, who hardly knows up from down right now!"

I felt stricken but saw when I looked up that Rick was smiling and we both fell around laughing.

Eventually he said, "Seriously Justin, you've got to understand what you're getting yourself into. And it's true, I do find you amazingly cute and I'm enormously attracted to you."

Relief just welled up in me as tears flowed. As we embraced Rick kissed me passionately working his tongue into my mouth. At the same time he rubbed my rock hard prick through my jeans until I was gasping. Very quickly he had my jeans around my ankles and my throbbing cock in his hand. I thought I would faint! This was the first time I had ever had my cock held by someone else and it felt beyond amazing so that I thought I would come right then. There I was, naked from the waist down with this awesome guy gripping my penis. Then he began stroking it slowly. A shiver went through me as I pushed my hips forward. I don't think he pumped more than half a dozen times when my cock jerked violently and the first squirt of hot semen shot high into the air. Unlike my usual, "Oh yes, oh yeah!" I managed to gasp through grimaced lips, "Oh, oh, oh no!" I just couldn't help it, there was almost no warning. Rick kept on wanking me as my load pumped out of my quivering cock is violent quirts. At last I stopped shooting and Rick embraced me again.

"I'm sorry Rick, I just had no control."

"Hey relax Justin, no problem man, you're 18, there's plenty more where that came from!"

Amazingly I was still hard. Reaching down to Rick's crotch it was abundantly evident that so was he, and more than ready.