Seven years of jerking

Oliver groaned. His hot spunk shot into my face.

At last, after all those years, I actually had my fingers on his cock, and he was shooting all over my face. Jesus, I had waited long enough. We were both in our twenties by then, but I had wanted him since we were both fourteen.

Once upon a time before there was the internet or mobile phones or porn channels or vegans I lived in the suburbs of a small city and I transferred to a new school. On my first day there I met Oliver.

We were both fourteen and a half and we became friends almost immediately. He was not as tall as me and he was a better student, and what’s more, he was a sportsman, and most important of all to me then, he shaved. After I met him that first day I went home and jerked off, thinking about him in his underpants, or out of them.

Oliver was straight. Not only did he shave regularly but he also liked girls and talked about sex. I did not do any of those things.

I often went around his house in those days. His folks lived in a big house by a lake. It had to be big as he had three brothers and all of them had their own bedrooms, no sharing. There were several bathrooms too, which was a novelty to me.

His Dad had a business in town, his Mum stayed at home and looked after them all. But they all played tennis and were good at it. There were silver trophies and cups in the house and framed photos on the walls of the kitchen of them winning them, all of them looking tanned in short sleeves and shorts.

I got invited round a lot and we would eat big meals at the family table and play music in Oliver’s bedroom. He was into jazz. I did not like it but I never said. Once in a while we might smoke a cigarette out his bedroom window but we never smuggled beer or whisky in. I guess we were pretty innocent, or at least I was.

Oliver’s Dad did not say much, but he was a good looking man, showing off very hairy dark forearms and when he was in a polo shirt which was most of the time, the buttons were undone and there was a forest growing there. They all looked the same, the men in that family. All of them had dark hair, pale blue eye and long lashes and they all shaved. I mean even Oliver’s little brother shaved when he was thirteen. His eldest brother was about to go off to university and I bumped into him coming out of the bathroom one day with only a bath towel wrapped around him. Fuck, he was hairy, all over his chest and stomach, and he was barely eighteen.

Oliver was hairy too I suspected but he rarely let me have a peek. It was very frustrating. I spent hours in French class looking at his wrist and seeing how the hairs curled over his wrist watch.

In the changing rooms I stared at his furry legs, golden from all that tennis. Mine were as smooth as fuck then and of course I was not sporty in the least. The showers at school were an ordeal. We had a red haired classmate who liked showing off. He had a big ginger bush and Jesus Christ a freckled cock which was long and swinging. I was pale and mostly smooth and did not have the biggest dick in the universe. Oliver did not shower too close to me I noticed that, he tended to shower next to the muscular guys with the hairy stomachs and the furry patches on their pectorals. Clearly there was a pecking order of nakedness. And I came near the bottom.

I sneaked a couple of looks always when we were showering but that was not very often anyway as I did not play any sports really. So for many years I did not see Oliver’s body at all. I dreamed of it though.

I dreamed of Oliver’s cock, hard and big in my fist, shooting all over the place as he moaned and bucked, and my face covered in his cum.

Oliver soon had a girlfriend. I knew her well too. And I knew she sucked his cock because he boasted about that. I did not see him so much then at the weekends, he was too busy being fellated. When he split up with the girl, I saw him again at weekends.

He came on holiday with my family once or twice. We had to share a room, single beds close to one another, so close that I could have leaned over and wanked him off on a hot summer night. But of course I did not get to do that, even if I felt teased when he dropped his jeans in front of me and I saw his boxers and had thoughts about the bulge I glimpsed then.

I kinda had the feeling that Oliver liked being looked at but that the rules were clear – no words, no touching.

And he certainly was worth looking at. As we got older he got heavier, more masculine, shaving every day, hair longer and tending to curl, hair all over the back of his hands, hair at his neck when he took his tie off, just like his Dad’s.

I wanted to watch him shower, see his long thick cock swing about all over the place till it rose up hard in my fist. I wanted to get into the shower and lather him up, all over his hairy chest, and stomach, all over his big tender balls, and up his hairy ass crack, and to jerk him off hard so that the spunk shot out of him in great spurts.

 

He was still playing a lot of tennis so that took up a lot of his time out of school and meant his legs got tanned, sometimes I went along to the courts to watch the size of the bulge as he ran around in his very short shorts. He was playing with his younger brother often and I thought about the pair of them showering afterwards. At that time I had never seen any threesome porn or any porn to be honest. Playgirl was the occasional treat.

And of course he was still dating various girls, one for quite a long time. He dropped hints that they had fucked. I did not ask for details but imagined them at night when I needed a wank, which was often. I was not dating girls – or boys either.

I thought about his hairy ass thrusting as he was fuckin whoever it was, in and out, in and out, like a fuckin machine. And the groans he would make while he was inside her and the sound he would make when he came. And I imagined the big long rubber once it was pulled off and the girl giggling when he held it up and it was full of hot sperm.

He split up with the girl in the summer before we all went off to university. That mucked up things for him. They had both planned to go to the same place to be together.  Now that was not happening. He hastily switched to somewhere else. His dreams of sharing the university experience with her as well as her bed had vanished.

I felt kinda sorry for him. I guess we would now say he was depressed. He seemed to take it all to heart. I kinda thought he was just missing getting laid, but what did I know about that?

Instead of fucking her every night and morning I bet he was now jerking off, reliving all the fucking he had taken for granted, all the blow jobs, all the anal, and he was soaking his sheets with his desperate spunk.

 

One night we went off for a hike in the woods on the other side of the lake. It was the sort of place teenagers wandered off into to lose their virginity and practice their sex skills, we all knew that. We were eighteen now and we had bought cans of beer or rather Oliver had bought them as no shop was going to believe I was old enough to be legal with my face. But Oliver, well he was unshaven like a Dad at the weekend. Not like my Dad you understand. But like his.

Oliver had bought smokes too, so we lay on the grass and smoked and drank beer, and every so often got up to take a leak against a tree. I watched Oliver with great interest, wanting to see a flash of his pale cock in the dark. He sure pissed a lot of piss and took his time.

We were discussing a film we had gone to see earlier in the week and Oliver wanted to see again. It was the kind of film which pleased us both for different reasons – there had been a blonde heroine who took her top off and showed her tits and a hunky hero who walked about showing off his hairy chest and once for a second his hairy ass.

Oliver told me the actress had reminded him of his recent previous girlfriend and began to describe her breasts. I got hard listening to him, not that breasts were of much interest to me, but his words were, and when he got to the description of licking her nipples I had a proper hard-on.

His leg was lying next to mine really close and he made no effort to remove it. I wondered if he had a hard-on too and cursed the dark.

There had been a scene in the picture when the hero had chased the heroine into the sea in the moonlight, both of them were naked and of course there were no frontals, but we both admitted it had got us excited. I rolled a bit closer to him, but this time he did roll away.

I thought about Oliver’s hairy ass running into the waves, and when he turned to tell me to hurry up I saw his big cock sticking up and out, like a fucking phallic god. And then he turned about and waited for me and I saw all the hair on his front wet from the sea and knew he was going to take me in his arms so I would feel that wet hair against my naked skin and feel his hardness pressed into my stomach.

Fat chance.

 

 

By that time I had drained several beer cans and got up to piss against a tree. I did not really turn away but I did not know if he was watching me or not.

He did say I had a lot of beer to get out of me. I took my time buttoning up my jeans just in case he wanted a look. In fact I left a couple undone. For later, I thought.

Oliver had some dope in his pocket. I was usually too clean-cut and sober for that but I took the roll-up off him and tried to play it cool.

He told me he and the girlfriend had usually fucked when they were doped up and Jesus it had made them cum hard.

We were lying on our backs side by side passing the joint between us. I felt like a fuckin man. My hand touched his thigh and I felt how warm his skin was through the jeans.

I turned to talk to him about something or other and left my hand on his thigh. He did not turn away.

Fuck, he said, it is two weeks since we fucked.

Fuck, I replied, that’s a long fuckin time.

Hey, he said, out of nowhere apart from a fog of marijuana, let’s streak along the side of the lake.

Streaking was a big thing then. Naked men and women (but usually hairy men with dangling bits) would appear at public events, like sports finals or awards ceremonies, and streak across the field or the stage.

I could not believe what I was hearing.

You go first. Run to that boat house and back and I will show you my big dick as a prize. That’s what you want is n’t?

I stuttered, OK.

Oliver laughed and took another draw of the dope as I raced to be naked.

The lake side path was fuckin rough on my bare feet. The bushes were sharp and threatening. I nearly got blinded. I nearly got circumcised. I nearly got castrated.

When I got to the boat house, panting. I waved back at him. And I could just about see Oliver wave back.

Fuck, I had a hard-on like a beer can, and it was swinging around as I ran, and slapping against my stomach.

When I got back he laughed.

Fuck boy, never thought you were a runner.

I was just standing there panting with a hot red face and a cock which refused to go down.

Oliver behaved as if my cock was invisible.

Now you, I panted, you run now.

Aw, no way, he said and took another draw of the joint. I am too juiced up and too doped up now for exercise.

He lay back with his legs wide apart and giggled.

But Olly I started. I called him Olly sometimes when we were alone together.

Olly you promised you’d show me your cock. 

This do, he quipped, and lifted up his tee shirt, almost to the top of his chest, and I could see how hairy he was, covered in a lot of fur.

I leaped forward as if to touch his stomach and he quickly flipped his tee down again.

That’s enough, he said. Try anything queer and I’ll scream the woods down. And hey put that fuckin disgusting excuse for a cock away now will you? Get yourself decent before I throw up.

But it was me who threw up. Quite a bit, mostly in the lake, but also on my shoes.

Oliver delivered me home and my Mum tutted the next morning when I threw up again.

I woke up in the afternoon naked in my bed, with a hard-on I had to try hard to conceal from Mum when she came to check on me.

Oliver popped by to see how I was. He looked as if he was fresh off a farm and fed on sunshine and good air. He had brought me a can of coke and I dribbled it down my chest.

You’re getting hairs on your chest bud, he said. About time.

I was hard as fuck under the quilt.

He started telling me about this girl he really really fancied who was now working in the check out in the supermarket. He had bought condoms from her so she might get a dirty idea and had proposed they meet up when she handed over his change with the bill receipt. He planned to use some of them up with her later when they met for a date.

 

Oliver was probably the type who fucked girls standing up around the back of places, who did not always get a rubber on in time and who might not always pull out in time either. I imagined him cumming down a girl’s thighs. Always very noisily, always a lot of cum. I bet the girl liked holding on to his bare hairy ass as he fucked her. I envied her.

 

Oliver went AWOL, at least from my life in the world before mobile phones. He went away to university. Our Mums talked to one another, we nodded over the street at holidays. I saw him with a nice looking girl at Christmas, not from around here.

I grew up. I was at university too. I grew hair on my chest and shaved more often. I kissed boys and occasionally did a little bit more.

Easter vacation I had sex with his ex, the girl who had dumped him last summer. It was a planned thing on my part. I am not proud of myself. She sucked my cock just like she had sucked his. I fucked her too and came so many times I was worried I was straight, but it was just a phase. We were in bed together and when she said Oliver’s name I had to fuck her all over again. She knew there was something kinky about it all.

Everybody says you are a fag, she said. But do fags cum four times?

Search me, I shrugged. She was rubbing the hair on my nipples and I liked that.

Hey, did you and Olly ever fuck? She squeezed a nipple and squeezed my cock. I responded as nature intended without answering her question. She was the first and last girl I intended to fuck.

In our final year I met Oliver at a party one New Year. He had changed a bit. His hair was shorter and he had a beard, a full one, not a scratchy mess. He was dressed all in black and his corduroys were soft to the touch as I found when my hand brushed against his thigh by accident.

Neither of us really knew the other people at the party, they seemed younger than us, and we fell in together, as if there had not been a few years of estrangement. We just picked up from where we had left off. Our Mums still spoke to one another, so we know what was going on in our lives more or less.

I had seen his little brother in the grocery store the other day and nearly had split my pants with my boner.

I told Oliver I had seen him and that he was looking good.

He looked surprised. Really? He shrugged.

Sure, I said, he is really hot.

He laughed, shaking his head.

 

I was thinking about sucking off Oliver’s little brother, or thinking about sucking Olly too, at the same time, kneeling in front of them both. They both had very hairy flat stomachs above their cocks and their balls were big and low hanging. If anything the little brother was better endowed. He made a lot of noise when I was sucking him off, and Oliver tapped me on the shoulder with his cock, and told me he needed seeing to first.

I grabbed both of their cocks and jerked them together and the little brother shot first and it went way over my head. Olly told me to open my cunt of a mouth and let him face fuck me. I did.

After a bit Oliver suggested we go back to his parents for a nightcap. It was strange being back there though nothing had changed really. The same tennis photos on the wall. His Dad had put on a bit of weight but was still unbuttoned. I’d have let him fuck me. His Mum smiled and said she had missed me and how well I was looking, she liked my hair.

We went up into Oliver’s bedroom as we used to. It smelled just the same. The busty pin ups were the same though maybe faded.

He had a full bottle of whisky in his wardrobe and we sat down and drank it after he had raided the kitchen for packets of salty chips and a bottle of ginger ale.

He had been dumped, just in time for Christmas, by that good looking girl I had seen him with before, they had been a couple for a long time, but now with graduation looming, she had decided there was no future for them both.

Olly looked cute when he was upset. He told me the details of the story with his eyes often closed and his lashes long and downcast. My sympathy was pretty low on the register now but I had always been allowed to be a good listener.

I placed my hand on his warm cord thigh. We were sitting on the rug, our backs against the bed. The whisky bottle was standing between his legs, snug against his crotch, so every time I reached for it he laughed. I filled our glasses up then moved the bottle out of the way.

In case of spills, he said.

Look, he said, I am just going to sit here and not do anything, but fuck if you want to do something to me, then you can do it. Just this once. Know what I mean? But I will need a top-up first.

I gave him one. A fresh drink, I mean.

For a moment I considered getting up off the floor and going home, but only for about half of a moment.

I knocked back my whisky and ginger ale and set the glass down.

OK, I said, and unbuckled his belt, and pulled down his zip. It was hot in his groin. It was not difficult to locate his dick, it was filling the space.

Hold on, he said, and I thought fuck, he has chickened out again, but he only retrieved a joint he had in bedside drawer, and lit it up, and passed it to me, as my other hand started tugging inside his underpants.

He lifted his furry arse and I got his cords down onto his thighs, then I buried my face in his boxers. There were no surprises. Sure Oliver had a big dick and it was getting harder.

Suck it, he said, suck it, and he called me by his old nickname for me, which was rare.

I pulled his cock out of his fly and sucked him and fuck me Olly had a fuckin monster down there. I bet his Dad was built the same and all the brothers too.

I could hear him exclaiming, there was a lot of dope in the air, but my mouth was too busy to be bothered with the joint.

Where the fuck did you learn to do that, he whispered, and I felt his fingers on my neck. You could have been doing this for me ten years ago had I only known.

He moaned.

I got him out of his boxers and almost forgave him for the pattern they had.

Now, with his tee shirt still on, covering his stomach, and his boxers down to his knees, he was just a wide expanse of hairy flesh and a big erect cock. It was long, but it was thick too, and I liked that in my mouth.

I had seen a few more cocks in the last couple of years, so I knew this one was big. He was dripping too. Once he had told me how the girls all made him drip pre-cum. So, not just the girls.

Yeah, yeah, he intoned, suck me, suck me.

Once again, he used my nickname, the first time I had heard it in the same sentence as “cock.”

I got my cock out too. Yeah, it was smaller than his, but there was nothing wrong with it. It did the job OK. I got no complaints.

I pushed up his tee and ran my spare hand all over his chest and stomach. There was almost way too much hair there. I bet it was on his shoulders and back too. Jesus, his nipples were buried deep.

I stopped sucking him and he sighed and said no, plaintively, do not stop.

But I got my fist around his shaft instead and rolled his balls too and he stopped complaining.

If his girl had dumped him a week before then I reckoned he had a week’s worth of shooting to do, unless of course he had been jerking himself, but something told me he had been too sorry for himself to do that.

I went at his cock with a vengeance.

Stop, stop, he cried, oh for fuck’s sake stop he cried, so loudly I wondered if his Mum might come upstairs to check.

I stopped suddenly and lifted my fist off him.

Do not stop, for fuck’s sake, he cried, sounding almost annoyed with me. I kept on then, with his hairy arse lifting off the rug, but then suddenly stopped again, so he moaned all over again.

He pleaded with me to continue. And so it went on, but not for long I predicted.

I bet no steady girlfriend had given him a handjob like that.

I checked my wrist watch. There was still time to catch the night bus home. I needed to get to the stop soon.

I sucked him again, swirling my tongue and spit about and tasting his pre-cum, then I held him tightly with my fist and gave him it good and proper. I was jerking myself too and would not take long either.

Are you gonna try and fuck me, cried out Oliver.

Was that an invite or a warning?

Where the fuck had that come from?

The thought was enough for both of us.

Oliver shot right into my face, a fuckin load and a half. I went off like a rocket all over his black polo neck and cords. Some of it hit his beard. Some of it hit his eyebrow.

Jesus fuck, he made a real mess all over himself as well.

Even I thought it was all a bit too much, and he was whimpering as if he was in pain.

We stopped together at last. I let myself drip all over his legs rather than down my good jeans.

Fuck, did I cum on your face, said Oliver. Not done that since - he mentioned a girl’s name.

Feels like it, I said. I could feel it dripping down my chin already. I reached over for a plaid shirt of his in a pile folded by his Mum and wiped my face clean then stuffed it sodden well under the bed.

He was still lying back with his eyes closed and his eyelashes fluttering just a bit.

His hairy stomach was rising and falling. There was spunk trailed there but mostly it was on his jersey.

He called me by my nickname again.

You’ve got the job, fuck why did n’t I let you do that before?

I left him there with his wet cock subsiding and spunk all over his black clothes.

I slipped out the back door of his house, not meeting the parents or anything, and got to the stop in the nick of time.

Hey, said Oliver’s little brother out of the dark.

Hey I said.

You had fun with Olly?

I nodded.

Sure, but …

The bus was coming up.

Tell me about the but, he said and hailed the bus down. And he laughed and I do not mean butt as in ass.

I laughed too and felt his body hot behind me as we both climbed on board.

In the bright light of the bus he whispered something into my ear and reached up to my forehead and flicked away a blob of his big brother’s spunk.

He had the same dark hair as the rest of the males in his family, the same blue eyes and long lashes, the same late night stubble. But there was something else in his eyes.

He placed his hand on my knee briefly. Sure there was hair all over the back of it.

He called me by the nickname Olly had used earlier when he was spunking.

I had a feeling I was going to be back at that house again and again, but maybe to a different room.