Messing Around With Mike

[Smiley]

In underwear fun's thread on your first jerk-off experience, I posted part of a memoir I've been writing. I want to share more of this with you.

A little background is necessary. When I was 13 and he was 14, Mike and I became serious jerk off buddies, getting together multiple times a week. It lasted for nearly a year and a half. We were quite adventuresome, physical, and even intimate, although we never tried oral or anal sex. Mike and I played a lot of games, including strip HORSE on my backyard basketball court. The five letters in HORSE were perfect - shoes, socks, shirt, pants and underwear - although as the court was exposed to the neighbors, we'd do the actual stripping elsewhere, usually under an isolated avocado tree in my large backyard where we were well hidden from view. After strip HORSE, we'd adjourn to under the avocado tree where the loser would have to get naked and usually do a simple dare. The afternoon evolved from there, often with multiple trips to the avocado tree to exact revenge.

If not basketball, we'd play a quick game of strip poker to decide who was to get naked or do a task, especially if we were messing around inside his or my house when nobody was home.

After strip HORSE and poker, our favorite game was Time Out, where either of us for any reason at any time could say "time out" and all masturbation must cease for 30 seconds. It was a maddening game. We also did a lot of naked dares and runs, and made each other jerk off in public places, or in very intimate ways, or just in a really strange manners. As I've said, we were into playing around.

That's enough background. Messing Around With Mike is 22,000 words and seven parts. This next paragraph is buried in Part 3 and will surprise people when they stumble upon it.

Through this experimentation we discovered some favorite positions. We had three for jacking each other. One was lying head to toe. Both right handed, this allowed us to use our dominant hand on the other guy. A variation was lying on our left sides in front of each other in the 69 position. But our preferred position was sitting on the ground face to face, as close as we could get to each other, with my legs on the bottom and Mike’s lying on top. We discovered this position early on and went back to it often. It was flexible. We could lean back on one arm and jack ourselves or we could sit up and do each other. We could even lie down. The most common result of getting into this position, though, was sitting up, our bodies quite close and looking each other in the face, jacking off the other boy with our right arm while using our left arm to hold each other up, our left hand on the other guy’s back. We’re tightly connected, physically and emotionally, inches apart and touching each other in many places. We could watch each other instead of the ceiling. It was just about heaven. When I think back to beating off with Mike, this is the first scene that’s playing in the movie. In my mind’s eye, we’re naked under the avocado tree and in the middle of jacking each other off. It’s a warm, sunny day and Mike is smiling. He looks me in the eye, inches away, then down at our dicks, and back at me. Mike needs a haircut, with an out of control fan of hair swinging all over his forehead and covering his eyes. I look down to see our right hands going up and down each other’s cock. It’s dark and tight down there. There’s sweat on both of our chests. I raise my eyes back up to see our left arms, over the other’s shoulder, forming a bridge between us. Mike’s smile has turned neutral with his eyes blank as he looks down and to the side, concentrating on the jack. I also feel Mike in this movie. Still looking away, his breath hits my right breast. I feel Mike’s physical heat and hear the short huffs he makes. Our hands constantly bump, our fingers brushing each other’s stomach as they go up and down. He rides my thighs with the beat. We’re dancing. It’s not just our dicks but both of us that are bouncing around. We aren’t jacking each other’s dick. We’re jacking both of our dicks. We’re jacking ourselves. It’s one big jack.

This was our riskiest naked dare.

One naked dare was the wildest. We lived in a hilly area and there was a concrete flood control drainage ditch nearby that was almost six feet deep, about that wide and flat bottomed. It was dry most days and as kids, we’d explore it up and down for miles. There was an easy entry and exit point two blocks away but local kids would normally drop in at a point behind my house to start their play. Mike said the next dare should be to hang out naked in the ditch for half an hour in the middle of the day. This was really upping the ante. Entering at the local spot meant crawling under a small bridge over the ditch. Protected by the bridge, one of us would then strip and lower himself into the culvert. Once in the ditch, the bridge barely sheltered you at all. It would keep you out of the rain but not out of the light. I said no and we argued for weeks over this. I finally gave in when Mike said he’d do it first, the time to stay down there was reduced to just five minutes, and we added a reward of getting seven hand jobs. The culvert was an insanely public place to be naked in the middle of the day. We could be seen by people on a street a block away and in yards on either side of the ditch, or caught by other kids who used this entry point all the time. The real problem, though, was we needed help from the other guy to get back out. The ditch was too deep to climb out by yourself. Mike needed me to pull him up and vice versa. I remember looking down on a naked Mike in the ditch, telling him I wanted to see some jumping jacks or I wouldn’t help him back up. I was only teasing and he knew it, but I was grinning when he gave me a few since part of the dare was you had to keep moving around. You couldn’t just sit in a fetal ball for five minutes. I tried to back out of doing the dare but Mike wouldn’t let me. It took me many days to build up the nerve and when it was my turn, not only did Mike make me fully expose myself to the world by stretching my arms and legs wide across the ditch after I’d refused to do any damn jumping jacks, and do it both up and downstream when that fucker only had to do jumping jacks in one direction, but after my five minutes was up, he made me sing the Star Spangled Banner before giving me a hand up. I dressed and ran back to the avocado tree, whooping and hollering, ready for the first installment of my reward. It’s a sign of the faith Mike and I had in each other that we’d do such crazy stunts. We only did this one once but we did it. To this day, I do not know why. It did prove we trusted each other absolutely, and as we all know, any good relationship is built on trust.

For the last third of Messing Around With Mike, I switch to the present tense and tell stories. This is one of them.

Mike comes over and my mom is gone but will be back in an hour. We’ll have to be quick. We decide to play a simple game for our basic penalty: the loser will have to jerk off the winner and then jack off himself. The variation will be where we mess around. Fred, my next door neighbor, is out of town. We’ll do it on his back yard porch. It’s outside but I’ve scoped it out and I don’t think anybody can see us from there. Carrying a deck of cards, we sneak over to Fred’s house. Mike sees Fred’s porch is set back, surrounded on three sides by the house, and with favorable geography, a fence and the concrete drainage ditch on the fourth side. Mike agrees we’re safe.

Deciding to play just one hand of cards to determine the loser, we both strip down and sit at Fred’s porch table for the card game. I win. Mike tells me to lie on the table and he starts jacking me off. Reaching over with my left hand, I play with his dick and rub his belly. I’m too excited by this whole event to stay focused and it takes a while for me to cum. In fact, I have to finish myself off but that’s not unusual for us. Rolling off the table, I’m looking around for a rag with which to clean up – of course we didn’t bring one – and I find one on the barbeque. I wipe my spunk off with it. Hello, Fred! Mike is now on the table and well into his jack as he started early, beating away while standing there, waiting for me to finish up. It’s now my turn to stand back and wait for him to blast. This is crazy. It’s the middle of the afternoon and I’m naked on my neighbor’s back yard porch, with a dripping dick and watching my equally naked buddy jack off. Hell, let’s make this craziness last even longer. I say, “Time out.” Mike freezes. He calls me an asshole as he hangs there, holding onto his dick until I say, “Go.” There’s no stopping him now as Mike leaves Fred his own thank you gift on the barbeque rag. We dress and scurry back to my house just before my mom returns. Mike also thought this was a thrilling place to mess around, so before Fred gets back from vacation, we spend a longer afternoon jacking away in his back yard. A couple of years later, my family is invited by Fred over for dinner. A warm night, we eat at that same porch table. I just want to yell out, “I’ve jerked off on this table!”

I will post more in the near future. For now, I would appreciate your comments and corrections. This still is a rough draft.

 

[Markymark]

Whew! Took a while but our hands are finally free of sticky stuff!

 

[Smiley]

You're welcome. Glad to be of service, although it's funny. We got totally different things out of the post. I see that sometimes I spelled it "backyard" and other times "back yard". It's all one word now. And "barbeque" has been changed to the preferred "barbecue". I wouldn't have seen those changes without posting my story here.

 

[Markymark]

We must admit to needing a re-read to examine for sp. errors or syntax problems, or even a minor grammatical faux pas. Hopefully we will not be so distracted the second time!

 

[Smiley]

You got what you should have.

 

[Smiley]

This is fun. I'm going to post one more string of stories. Please understand I've been working on this for about two months and showing it off to you folks is exhilarating.

True confession time: Mike and I were really into cum. And with us playing games, it got all over everywhere.

Undoubtedly our kinkiest penalty, and one we used constantly, was to shoot our spunk on each other. At first it was by accident – it had to go somewhere – but once we accepted that having another guy’s semen on us was really no big deal, it opened the faucet, so to speak. Through our time together, Mike must have worn a cup of my sperm and I his. We came up with penalties for our games where we sprayed the other guy on purpose. A jack off race often ended with the guy who shot first getting to blast on the other boy, with the loser cumming on himself, receiving two loads for the price of one. It was OK to aim most anywhere although we never gave each other a facial…deliberately, that is. I didn’t shoot at every part of Mike because, really, who wants to sperm a kneecap? But any place that mattered got blasted, with his crotch my obvious, favorite target. I must have shot there at least a dozen times and probably a lot more. In return, I remember Mike spraying his spunk over my dick and pubes while I was under the avocado tree, on my bathroom floor, while sitting in a chair in my bedroom, in both my family’s den and living room, and on the floor of his bedroom. Is that enough?

This next paragraph follows one in the first post, the story where I describe Mike and me jacking each other off up close and tight under the avocado tree.

I blame this position for our using each other in cum shot target practice. When we stayed close to the end, we were guaranteed to get a lot of the other guy’s spunk on us when we shot. We got used to it. After a number of sessions in this position the attitude was, what the fuck, we’ve already drenched each other. It’s OK to now play with our blasts and shoot our sperm guns anywhere we wanted.

This is one of my present tense stories that ends Messing Around With Mike. It is a compilation story. We did all these things under the tree, just maybe not right in this order, although this was very typical of our times under there.

Mike comes over and my mom is home. We play HORSE and I lose. We go under the avocado tree and I get naked. Mike has to strip to his underwear as I took him to H-O-R-S before missing the final shot. We then play Rock/Paper/Scissors and I win the first round. Mike’s underwear goes. I lose the second set and Mike chooses to tickle me mercilessly, but only after we make sure no one is around to hear us, which we do by hopping out from under the tree and spreading out a bit, squatting behind bushes while peeking through their branches, rabbits making sure no cat is in the yard, except at least rabbits wear fur. Too bad they’ll never know the charge we get out of being naked in the backyard in the middle of the afternoon. We decide the winner of the next round of Rock/Paper/Scissors will get jerked off by the loser, who again is me. It isn’t my day. Mike lies down on the ground and I knell over him. First I have to get Mike hard but that’s easy. So is making him spurt. Mike stops me just before he cums and we reverse positions. He then leans over me and stroking his cock, proceeds to blast his spunk onto my dick and pubes. We know the final round of Rock/Paper/Scissors will result in me cumming. The only question is will it be by Mike’s or my hand? I lose. I start playing with myself. Mike orders me to deposit my spunk in the same place as his. Don’t worry, Mike. With my standard dribble, after my first shot or two that’s where much of it will end up. Afterward, we both get dressed and play some more basketball with me wearing Mike’s and my semen. After some one-on-one, we play another game of HORSE. Mike loses. It’s back to the avocado tree for revenge.

On the other hand, this story is dead nuts true. Every last word happened in just this order, in just this way. It is from near the end of our time as jack off buddies and by then, we were huge risk takers and a bit out there.

Mike comes over to my house when nobody else is home. We decide today the winner of our opening game can make the loser do whatever he wants for the next two hours, which is the time we have after school until my mom returns. (We have a safety margin on top of that. Initially it is half an hour, upped later to one hour.) We play a quick round of strip poker and Mike loses. I make Mike finish stripping me and give me a hand job while I sit on his crotch. I shoot on his stomach and he doesn’t get to wipe it off. I then tell Mike to jack himself off twice, again cumming onto his belly and chest. We’re starting to get quite an accumulation of sperm there. After a short rest, we finish the session with Mike and me jacking off face to face, up close, sitting on the floor with our legs overlapping and our dicks and bodies together. Instead of our normal upright position, jacking each other, this time we lean back on our left arms while jerking our own dick. I want to make sure our blasts land where they should and that’s on Mike. I shoot mine all over his pubes. Covered with cum, I make Mike wear the whole mess home. While he takes a shower when he gets there, he tells me he had a conversation with his mom first, a bizarre experience in this condition. The next time Mike comes over, I lose the opening game and the session is repeated but with me as the victim. At the end of that session, I have to walk Mike home to make me wear our sperm out in public, if under my shirt, just like he had to. After dropping off Mike, it was an amazing rush to walk up my home street, past all the neighbors waving hi, feeling five loads of dried spunk, much of it from another guy, sticking to me from my chest to my pubes, and have absolutely no one else know. I remember that buzz as clear as day.

 

[Markymark]

Well, we were going to make dinner for our beloved, perhaps he should just go to Taco Bell tonight. LMAO!

 

[JLipps4u]

Smiley,

Absolutely fabulous story! Brings back memories of a neighbor and myself when we were about the same age as you and Mike. I'm glad to know I was not the only freak growing up! That gives me an idea for another thread. these stories are so much more thrilling than the updates! LOL Thanks for sharing them.

JLipps

 

[Jayman01]

In underwear fun's thread on your first jerk-off experience, I posted part of a memoir I've been writing. I want to share more of this with you.

A little background is necessary. When I was 13 and he was 14, Mike and I became serious jerk off buddies, getting together multiple times a week. It lasted for nearly a year and a half. We were quite adventuresome, physical, and even intimate, although we never tried oral or anal sex. Mike and I played a lot of games, including strip HORSE on my backyard basketball court. The five letters in HORSE were perfect - shoes, socks, shirt, pants and underwear - although as the court was exposed to the neighbors, we'd do the actual stripping elsewhere, usually under an isolated avocado tree in my large backyard where we were well hidden from view. After strip HORSE, we'd adjourn to under the avocado tree where the loser would have to get naked and usually do a simple dare. The afternoon evolved from there, often with multiple trips to the avocado tree to exact revenge.

If not basketball, we'd play a quick game of strip poker to decide who was to get naked or do a task, especially if we were messing around inside his or my house when nobody was home.

After strip HORSE and poker, our favorite game was Time Out, where either of us for any reason at any time could say "time out" and all masturbation must cease for 30 seconds. It was a maddening game. We also did a lot of naked dares and runs, and made each other jerk off in public places, or in very intimate ways, or just in a really strange manners. As I've said, we were into playing around.

That's enough background. Messing Around With Mike is 22,000 words and seven parts. This next paragraph is buried in Part 3 and will surprise people when they stumble upon it.



This was our riskiest naked dare.



For the last third of Messing Around With Mike, I switch to the present tense and tell stories. This is one of them.



I will post more in the near future. For now, I would appreciate your comments and corrections. This still is a rough draft.

Smiley thank you for sharing those stories with us. It brought back many fond memories from my own child hood with my friend Mike... Thank you...

 

[Smiley]

Thanks for your comments, guys. I was worried that by posting stories that were so out there, I might lose all credibility. Obviously not with you two. As for others,

I don’t want to make it sound like every one of Mike’s and my sessions was a teenage porn movie. That certainly was not the case. A lot were very simple. After school, Mike and I would find an opportunity to sneak away together and jack off. Unless we had only minutes, in which case we’d just loosen our pants, quickly stroke our dicks and shoot, we almost always played some sort of game to start the session. Soon we would be naked and jerking. Who was jacking whom and the how and why and where and how much all could vary. The only constant was the when: right fucking now. We jerked off together a lot. Many days we’d each climax once and leave, with homework to be done. If we could spare an extra half an hour, we would cum twice. Our jack off sessions happened this way at least half the time. But there were other times when we had the opportunity and time to do more, occasionally a lot more, and we took it. Those were our memorable episodes together, so those are the ones you are reading.

Sometimes our games were simple.

Did you know Mike invented Cum On a Cracker? He told me so. We were hanging out on the screen porch of my house and Mike said he had thought up this great new game for that day’s session. He asked me to get a box of crackers from the kitchen. Once explained the game, I refused. I wasn’t going to eat his sperm. After some negotiating, Mike instead put out two crackers, with the loser eating his own. This we’d done before and losing Mike’s new game, I swallowed my spunk once more. We came up with a variation on the game when Mike and I agreed that the next time we got together, we’d start by jerking off into some clear shot glasses my parents had. The guy with the least amount of cum in his glass will have to eat his sperm plus have the winner’s glass of spunk poured over his dick. I knew how to win this game. I didn’t beat off for the day or two until Mike came over again. I won easily. After chugging his sperm, Mike got a little worried when I didn’t pour my shot glass of jism on him right away. He knew I was up to something. Yup. This day we were again on the screen porch which had basic lawn furniture so I could be a bit messy. I waited until Mike and I were sitting in lawn chairs, jerking ourselves off. I called time out. I dropped my dick and grabbed my glass of sperm, pouring it on Mike’s cock like sauce on a sundae. He said I was a fucker but it sure changed his jack in a well lubricated kind of way. Maybe he even liked it. At least it was different. Above all else, we liked different. Next time we played I lost. Mike told me he’d jerk me off for a week if I drank rather than wore his glass of spunk. No, Michael.

Outside of placing all things oral out of bounds and our lack of interest in doing much anally, we were willing to try most anything. The self correcting mechanism was we were only one missed basketball shot away from having any dirty trick we pulled come back at us like a boomerang. The best example of that was a Spoonful of Pubes. We were at my house and Mike had lost the opening game. I gave a naked Mike a teaspoon and scissors and told him to fill it up with his pubic hair. Mike was furious but did it anyway. He really only had to do a light trim of a small area to fill the spoon. Of course, the next time I lost at his house, he gave me what I swore was a bigger spoon and a pair of scissors. By mutual agreement, we never repeated a Spoonful of Pubes, nor did we ever shave each other.

Other times, often during backyard campouts, they got more outrageous.

We’d erect my family’s large tent and play both naked and jerk off games for much of the night. Our favorite naked game was simply running around nude. We both were really into it. Some of our stunts and penalties reflected Mike’s fantasies. Others were mine. Naked running came from both of us and we did it a lot. We’d wait for my parents and the neighborhood to go to sleep and then dare each other into progressively longer naked runs. The dares would start with something simple like around the backyard or down to the basketball hoop and back but since I lived at the end of a cul-de-sac and there never was any traffic, they could advance to a lap around the house. With the layout of the lot and location of the gates in the fences, from where we camped, deep in the backyard, that was probably a quarter of a mile run, a long naked sprint for a fourteen year old and we made it maybe three or four times each. One night the dare evolved to running down the street nude and touching the neighbor’s mailbox. Taking turns, we both advanced to the box three neighbors down before we chickened out. It was maybe 200 feet away and this was a public street. Were we insane? No, just thirteen to fifteen years old. On a later campout, our naked runs down the street stopped when a porch light unexpectedly came on just after Mike passed the house. Nothing came of that but we decided to cool it.

Instead, we dared each other to jerk off on my front lawn. Yeah, that sounds safer. I remember jacking on the lawn twice, once to the side where it was sheltered, but another time in the open. My turn first, I lay down on the lawn and jerked off while Mike stood over me, a naked sentry. Then we switched positions. And this doesn’t count the time when we lay down head to toe smack dab in the middle of my front lawn, nude and as exposed as hell, and jacked each other off. I was on the street side. The only reason I remember is because I was propped up on my left elbow with an eye on the front windows of the house, watching for a light to come on should by chance my parents wake up and decide to check on the boys. Mike was up on his left arm, too, looking down the street for cars and neighbors. This was just as stupid as the night we sat naked on the front steps of Mike’s house. He lived on a major residential street and even in the middle of the night we were easily visible from it. We didn’t stay on his steps for long. Though it was very late, cars were passing by. All anybody had to do was turn their head to see us. I’m amazed we were smart enough to not beat off there, too.

Since we couldn’t jack off on Mike’s street, then how about mine? During one campout we dared each other to do just that. We must have had one working brain cell apiece as we did it clothed, just dropping our pants and sitting next to each other in on the curb in front of my house for our jack. As we were somewhat hidden by a large juniper bush, only three of the neighbors and my parents could have seen us in action. What a couple of chicken shits. If we weren’t brave enough to get naked, you’d think at least we could have performed our show for the entire block.

 

[Smiley]

While I hope you are enjoying - and getting off on - these stories, you should know this is working for me, too. I mentioned this once up thread as I continue to catch grammatical errors but more, it's allowed me to view this story from a bit of a distance and I'm seeing parts that need to be expanded or explained. I've already re-written many sections. I also am still remembering details, adding one onto the story just told. Here is the changed section.

One night the dare evolved to running down the street nude and touching the neighbor’s mailbox, although that was just part of our game. The staging area was at the end of my driveway, right by my mailbox, where, standing there naked, we were visible to anyone on the street. Running to the next mailbox just made us more visible. Taking turns, we both advanced...

The process of remembering these events from over 40 years ago has been fascinating. Some, like the mutual jack with Mike under the avocado tree in the first post, have been on the top of my mind for years. In other cases, whole sequences of events have been recently remembered, often in surprising detail. These are all visual memories, either movies or snapshots that are stored in my brain, and during the writing of Messing Around With Mike, more images have become visible. That's what happened in this case. I clearly remember our naked runs and have for years but I just remembered the running, either Mike's or my going up and down the street. And then, in reading my last post online, even though I've read it on my computer tens of times, a new image popped up, that of Mike and me standing naked by my mailbox at the end of my driveway, getting ready to run. We did have a hiding place we could dive into that was only feet away but at that moment we were as exposed as hell.

The way I know that new image is real and not just something a writer will imagine is what I remember is remembering that scene before. I remember a previous memory. It's very strange. In fact, I'm not sure if I am truly remembering the earlier event or just the memory of that incident, but the fact that I'm remembering that I remembered it before is what makes it real. I can trust it. Sometimes it takes a day or two to be sure that is the case but in this instance, I immediately knew it was true. I remember being younger and having the memory of Mike and me standing naked at my mailbox, getting ready to sprint down the street and back. It is also further validated by an expanded vision of Mike on his turns running, watching him go up and down the street. I now can see I'm waiting for him by my mailbox. The more I remember, the more connected these images become, again making them more real to me.

 

[Jayman01]

Smiley, I love your stories. You are quite a wonderful writer. I love your narratives and it is great that you are sharing your awesome childhood memories with us. You stunts bring back so many fond memories.

My friend Mike and I did get into the oral when we were very young. I never knew what cum was in fact at the time. LOL. We used to find odd places to get naked too. One hot summer day we somehow found our wan into the exterior side of the court house air conditioning duct system. We were doing a 69 when I let loose my first load while he was sucking my cock. He gagged and chocked a bit. Then yelled, "wholly F***k." You came in my mouth. We heard employees laughing in the court house. If only they knew who said it, what was going on and where we were. We think some other poor employee with a bad reputation may have been blamed for our little action but it was a lot of fun... Oh, and I finally knew what cum was. LOL

 

[cumrag27]

What is all three things at once...cool, hot, and hard to swallow? LOL

Smiley, I love your stories. You are quite a wonderful writer. I love your narratives and it is great that you are sharing your awesome childhood memories with us. You stunts bring back so many fond memories.

My friend Mike and I did get into the oral when we were very young. I never knew what cum was in fact at the time. LOL. We used to find odd places to get naked too. One hot summer day we somehow found our wan into the exterior side of the court house air conditioning duct system. We were doing a 69 when I let loose my first load while he was sucking my cock. He gagged and chocked a bit. Then yelled, "wholly F***k." You came in my mouth. We heard employees laughing in the court house. If only they knew who said it, what was going on and where we were. We think some other poor employee with a bad reputation may have been blamed for our little action but it was a lot of fun... Oh, and I finally knew what cum was. LOL

Dearest Jayman,

If that memorable cumshot wasn't just a "kick in the butt"! Just one of life's easiest learned tasks that, once learned, one never forgets!

I never thought any court house air conditioning duct system could be so very "cool" and "hot" at the same time. Just imagine for a minute, those laughing inside the courthouse probably were prosecuting some case involving..."contributing to the delinquency of a minor".

Definitely "hot" and fun to know,


Cumrag27 (always on call to lend a hand and 27 times better than Bounty)

 

[Smiley]

Jayman, that's just too funny! What a great story. I'll give you a funny one of Mike's and mine.

I've wanted to get to this part of my story since my first post. The following 2,000 words get Messing Around With Mike really going. It's the heart of Part 2 (of 7 parts) and hopefully hooks the reader into staying around for the rest.

I'm going to have to break this into two posts because of board limits. This will be the funny half. The second half is more than a little rude.

The best thing about our trading off dares and penalties was it forced equality in our partnership. Certainly Mike was the leader, older, stronger and more driven. But once we started play, we were equals. I would submit to Mike’s domination for a while and then, because of a lost card game, we’d switch off and I’d tell him what to do. Every angry young teenager should have a sex slave for an hour.

If my mom was gone or my parents were out of town, we could mess around inside my house and the fun, risks and penalties were often greater. We had luxuries like chairs and a couch, plus definitely more props and toys. Sometimes the loser would get spanked, lying across the other guy’s lap for ten or fifteen minutes. No paddles allowed, spanking was more Mike’s thing. If the punishment was my choice, I liked to tie Mike up and did that many times. Usually my bindings for him were loose and easy to break but sometimes I got carried away. A couple of times I tied him to a square post that was in the center of my house. With Mike’s back up against the post, I’d pull his hands behind him, around the post and bind them there. After adding a couple dozen other wraps of rope around him and the post, he couldn’t move a hair.

Once I even hogtied and gagged Mike. You haven’t lived until you have had a naked fourteen year old boy hogtied in your house, unable to do anything but rock on the floor and look extremely concerned, but only if you are the naked thirteen year old boy doing it. Besides rocking helplessly, I have a mental image of the scared look in his eyes, rising to terrified when I didn’t untie him when I said I would. Hehehe. That next hour was the best. It started with inserting a rectal thermometer, telling him about all the other things I was going to shove up that hole, which of course was a fib...mostly.

But don’t you worry about Mike. There is something else as good as being a thirteen year old who hogties a fourteen year old and that’s being a fourteen year old who hogties and gags the naked thirteen year old a few days later in revenge. After messing around with me, making me spin on my dick and rock on the ground, Mike got dressed, cleaned up the room and told me he was going home. “Good luck explaining this one to your mom,” were his last words. As the back door latched, I went, funny game, Mike. He left me so I could see my mom’s desk clock and she’ll be home in a little over an hour. He’ll be back long before that. And then nothing. Quiet. I know he’s coming back. There’s no sound. That fucker wouldn’t leave me here like this, would he? The longer it went the less certain I was that he’d be back in time. There’s a half an hour left until Mom returns. Maybe he’s not coming back. We’re down to fifteen minutes. My God, he really left! Ten minutes. Damn it, that fucking asshole actually went home! Five minutes. He’s really not coming back! Three minutes. What am I going to tell my mom? She’ll be home any minute. Fuck! It’s time! Double fuck! My life is over. Five minutes later, I hear the back door open. I wait for death and my mother to walk into the den but instead it’s Mike! I’m shaking against the ropes, screaming through the gag for him to untie me. He’s as casual as hell. I shout that Mom is coming home. He says “No, not yet.” But it’s time! “Is it?” he says. He doesn’t think so. The clock! “This clock,” he asks, “you mean this clock, the clock I set ahead while you were in the bathroom? This clock that’s a half an hour fast?” He untied me and all I wanted to do was take the rope and strangle him.

 

[Smiley]

Another time I remember being bound by Mike, I was on my knees and unable to move. He pulled a much cruder, more physical prank when he proceeded to rub his soft dick and balls all over my face for many minutes. “You like my big balls? Here they are, man.” When I now hear about teabagging, it shocks me to realize I was teabagged when I was thirteen. Mike put his hand on the back of my head and pushed it into his crotch, rubbing it around. Getting a boner, he jacked it with the end of his dick resting on my nose. He rubbed both the shaft and the tip of his hardon over my face for quite a while, repeatedly dragging his shaft back and forth across my lips, saying, “Just open up and let’s get this over with.” Now with both of his hands on my head and moving his pelvis up and down, he ran his hard dick over my face. I’d often rubbed the bottom of Mike’s hardon but never before with my cheek. Mike kept slapping and stabbing me with his erect cock, threatening to force it into my mouth or blast his cum all over my face. Instead, he did neither and shot onto my chest. I was relieved. I wasn’t sure we were still playing a game. I remember this session with Mike well as it was the first time this line was crossed. Previously in our conversations, setting up ground rules and limits for our messing around, we’d talked about how we might accidentally get hit by a dick in the face crawling around each other and decided we were OK with that. If it happened, it happened. That definitely was not the case here. There was nothing accidental in what Mike did to me.

When payback time came, and with Mike bound and on his knees, I grabbed his head with both of my hands and ground his face into my crotch until my dick got hard and then I did it some more and then some more after that. Mike had wiped his dick and balls on my face. I pressed his face into mine and did it for a long time. Offering a momentary escape, I’d tell him if he’d just take his tongue out and start licking, we could be done with this a lot sooner. Otherwise, I warned him I was going to keep this up until I blasted. I didn’t but I thought about it. I’m sure he was thinking about that possibility, too. I was nasty. When I finally let Mike go, I wiped precum onto the bridge of his nose just so he’d have to look down on it, after which I shot on his chest.

Immediately afterward, Mike and I got into our one big fight, which lasted days, broke up three of our sessions and threatened to end our fun. He thought I’d taken it way too far. I said, “Me? You took an accidental dick to the face remark and escalated that to repeatedly rubbing your boner on my lips. Plus, I didn’t do anything you didn’t do to me.” After awhile I admitted I’d gone on too long and pushed too hard, and apologized. Mike also demanded a chance to grind his crotch into my face for payback. When after a week it was clear this was non-negotiable, I finally submitted. Plow my face with your dick if that’s what we need to get back to business, Mike. I found my punishment to be a mechanical, empty exercise for both of us. Mike aggressively pushed his hard cock up and down my face. I had to hang onto his legs to keep from falling backwards. But it was all force and no passion. Last time Mike was playful, sexy and rude, but this was just muscle, and definitely tougher than I’d been. Bad as it was, I’d been expecting worse, getting a last minute pledge that he wouldn’t cum in my face. Otherwise, everything he did this day I’d already experienced when he teabagged me, only this time with a vengeance. I was becoming a hardened thirteen year old, going, “This ain’t so bad.” In fact, I felt more fascination than disgust. This was so out of the ordinary, I had to keep at least one eye open to watch. It’s a disturbing movie stuck in my head which, before writing this, I hadn’t run in years. I remember the whole damn thing, starting with stripping and knelling down on my cold bathroom floor, awaiting the executioner’s sword. After talking dirty a bit, saying fuck his promise, he’s going to shoot wherever he wants, Mike smashes my face into his crotch, twisting both until he gets hard. This part is pretty dark and I don’t see much but I feel it all, including his hands on the side of my head, shoving it around. Mike’s flabby dick and the flesh of his nutsack are pressed against my lips, plus my cheeks, nose and eyes. His pubes itch. For a few minutes, this is my whole world. Light returns as I see the bottom of Mike’s now stiff cock, from its tip to his balls, in extreme close-up, going repeatedly up and down the side of my nose, across my mouth and one of my eyes. Pick either eye as his dick rides both. His balls, hanging low today, bounce over my chin. By twisting my head sideways, Mike changes the direction of the thrusts, from along my lips to over my ears, but no matter which angle he picks, this movie always has a supersized prick being driven vigorously across my face. Thankfully the abuse doesn’t go on that long, maybe fifteen minutes including getting him hard, because sooner than I would have thought, Mike stopped and finished by jacking himself off, blasting onto my chest. Maybe I wasn’t the only one tired of fighting. As a last goodbye, Mike wiped off the tip of his still wet dick on my mouth, the only provocative thing he did all afternoon. To salvage this day, perhaps I should have let him cum on my face.

Afterwards, our sex this day was equally emotionless solo hand jobs from each other. It might have been rote sex but it was more than we’d done in a week. I have images of that, too, of me sitting in a chair, with Mike on the floor, between my legs, jacking my dick. I also remember the opposite, of my sitting cross legged on the floor, looking up at Mike while I’m jerking him. It took writing this and reliving the events of this day with greater clarity to realize that Mike and I were sitting in two chairs I now own. Recovered and refinished twice over the years, I usually have my first cup of coffee in one of them. Good morning, Mike.

Surprisingly we agreed that what I had originally done to Mike was OK in the future as long as we weren’t so brutal. Mike’s revenge made sure that wouldn’t happen again. From then on we didn’t freak out if the other boy’s dick and balls were shoved in our face. That was just for the fun of it. Blame this on being fourteen. We’d discovered the rudest thing we could do to each other, which is gold to a young teenager. We weren’t willing to give it up.

These events, from hogtying to teabagging, happened relatively early in Mike’s and my messing around. Within three months I’d gone from having never touched another boy’s boner to begrudgingly allowing my best friend to fuck my face with his hardon. Welcome to adolescence.

.

 

[Jayman01]

Smiley,

It had sounded like both of you were experiencing a little sexual frustration and the hogtying seemed like the only way to get the other person to conceded to giving a BJ a try... It sounds like you two really worked things out well in the end. I am glad you finally gave him a BJ I hope he returned the favor as well.

 

[Smiley]

You misunderstood, Jayman. I need to re-write. We never did have oral sex. I was afraid using the phrase "fuck my face" would give that mis-impression. "Hump my face" is more accurate but doesn't have the emotional punch. I also need to make it clear neither of us ever opened our mouths as the other's dick was repeatedly rubbed all over it.

This is exactly the kind of feedback I'm looking for. Bring it on.

Sexual frustration? You bet. We had it in spades. We were also totally sexually confused. We're we gay? We thought of ourselves as straight but stroking another boy's dick three times a week was not the action of straight guys. We thought that by not doing other sexual acts like blow jobs and anal sex, that would keep us from being gay. It reminds me of conversations I had with friends a decade later where we tried to convince ourselves we couldn't be alcoholics by just drinking beer. Yeah, right.

In fact, let me give you the next paragraph in Messing Around With Mike. It addresses this issue head on.

I need to know if anybody is offended by this next paragraph. As with many parts of Messing Around With Mike, being a first person narrator, I often ape the language of the time. You've already seen it in the swearing. I make a comment early on, not copied here, that Mike and I swore all the time. We also used sexual terms that we'd never use today. This was the mid 1960s, definitely not a politically correct era. The words of those days can sound strange to our ears. I want to know if I've gone too far in this next paragraph.

A dick in the face was as close as we ever got to oral sex. We never tried it. For one, we were totally confused about blow jobs. We thought they required you to blow air into a man’s dick, which didn’t make any sense but if that wasn’t the case, then why were they called blow jobs? Once in his room when I had lost the opening game and was naked, Mike pulled out a bicycle pump. I said, no way, he wasn’t using that on me. If he wanted to do it with his own mouth, we could talk, but no bicycle pumps! Even if we had known it should be called a strokesuckandlick job, I bet we still wouldn’t have done it for the same reason we never kissed each other, either on the lips or anywhere on our bodies. That would have been gay and even though we were constantly jerking each other off, we definitely considered ourselves straight. Our games provided us mental deniability for our queer actions. Mike didn’t stroke my dick because I liked it. He did it because he lost a game. To our heterosexual credit, we were always talking about girls. We both definitely liked tits. In fact, we often jerked off to a small collection of dirty magazines we’d accumulated, which included issues of Playboy, Penthouse and a couple of nudist life publications. Using the language of the time, we weren’t homos but were into girls, and we certainly weren’t cocksuckers. Amazingly for young kids, we talked directly about this subject. One of Mike’s and my great strengths as partners was whenever we had an issue, we’d discuss it. Regarding hand jobs, we weren’t blind. We knew what we were doing and it caused us to question our sexuality. After a few months together, one evening during a backyard campout we asked each other, “You feel like a homo?” No, we answered, we still liked pussy. Plus homos buttfucked and blew each other, and we definitely didn’t do either one of those. Toward the end of our time together, after we’d been jerking each other off for over a year and had shared some very intimate physical experiences, I remember walking with Mike from the street into the pool area of his house when the question had become, “We aren’t homos, are we?” Stopping to talk, the answer we gave was still no, but the original question was no longer asked. Although we never would have said it out loud, by that point there were times we sure felt like homos.

 

[Jayman01]

Thanks Smiley for the clarification. I understand it now. Wow, I don't think I could have gone through all of that sexual tension and temptation. Then again I was 11, my friend Mike was 9, and his brother Tim my best friend at that time was 11. I was born on X-mas and Tim was born on X-mas eve. So, we were close. Strange his younger brother and I always had a strong sexual bond. Both live straight lives these days. But Mike and I were fuck and suck buddies until I hit 30 for the most part. We still talk as friends a lot. His brother Tim was always jealous of our close friendship. Personally I always thought he had small dick envy or something. He would play having sex with us when we first started. In fact everything we did was his idea to start with. Anyway he really never gave good BJ's and did everything like he could care less. Mike and I were always passionate and very caring of the other and really liked to help each other get off as best we could. Tim never had the staying power for that. He would just go through the motions and ruin the intimate feelings with his hurry up and get it done attitude. So, we eventually cut Tim out or our sessions.

 

[mikeyank]

I need to know if anybody is offended by this next paragraph. As with many parts of Messing Around With Mike, being a first person narrator, I often ape the language of the time. You've already seen it in the swearing. I make a comment early on, not copied here, that Mike and I swore all the time. We also used sexual terms that we'd never use today. This was the mid 1960s, definitely not a politically correct era. The words of those days can sound strange to our ears. I want to know if I've gone too far in this next paragraph.

Smiley, I can only speak for myself, but the language you use in your narrative is real, and as I also grew up in that same time period, I know that my friends and I used the same language on the East Coast, and you and Mike did out west. I guess it is the universal language of adolescent males. So no I'm not in any way offended by terms like homo or queer or anything else. I love your work, and please continue to tell us your stories, exactly as they happened, using the language that you guy's used as well.

 

[Smiley]

Thanks Smiley for the clarification. I understand it now. Wow, I don't think I could have gone through all of that sexual tension and temptation. Then again I was 11, my friend Mike was 9, and his brother Tim my best friend at that time was 11. I was born on X-mas and Tim was born on X-mas eve. So, we were close. Strange his younger brother and I always had a strong sexual bond. Both live straight lives these days. But Mike and I were fuck and suck buddies until I hit 30 for the most part. We still talk as friends a lot. His brother Tim was always jealous of our close friendship. Personally I always thought he had small dick envy or something. He would play having sex with us when we first started. In fact everything we did was his idea to start with. Anyway he really never gave good BJ's and did everything like he could care less. Mike and I were always passionate and very caring of the other and really liked to help each other get off as best we could. Tim never had the staying power for that. He would just go through the motions and ruin the intimate feelings with his hurry up and get it done attitude. So, we eventually cut Tim out or our sessions.

What an interesting three way dynamic, Jayman. I also love the fact you were intimate with the same guy from your preteen years to your thirties. What a way to grow up together. Congratulations. To stay with the same person through all those changes, that's a feat.

No doubt, Mike and I were a different pair. We set boundaries and didn't go across them. But within those borders, we went all over the place.

To give you my history in a nutshell, Mike was my last jack-off buddy. He moved away when I was fourteen and a half, and I started getting into girls with my high school friends. I remained exclusively heterosexual until I was twenty-five and was seduced by a male friend one afternoon. I have to admit, I was always curious. What about those acts Mike and I never did? I immediately became involved with this man - whose name was Mike! - and his circle of bisexual friends. This was the late '70s, when it was cool to be at least part gay. I went for it, wholeheartedly. For two years I tried it all, from all male orgies to having a year long, loving, live-in relationship with a man, a third Mike. I really have a hang-up here, don't I?

And then I moved. In my new town, I went back to being straight. There are many things about sex with a man that are perfect. A man knows how to handle your cock. A man knows how to suck dick. A man knows how to turn another guy on. But there are also things I really didn't care for. Anal sex, in both directions, really wasn't me. I tried it a few times with different guys, thinking I'm missing something, but I wasn't. I got it. I didn't like it. I also appreciate the soft form of a woman. They're curvy in all the right spots. Guys are hard. Women smell better. I really like eating pussy. Given my choice of eating a pussy or sucking a dick, I'll pick the pussy every time. And with a woman, I have a place to stick my cock. I like fucking, especially long, slow and meandering fucks. One problem with anal sex is that it's never relaxed. As much as I like sex with a man, I came to the conclusion that I'm basically straight. If there is a picture of a hot guy and a hot woman on a page, I'll look at the hot woman first. I had my last man sex with Mike #3 in 1983. I'm not opposed to it happening again but I'm also not looking.

There's one other thing that caused me to turn straight in the early '80s. Anybody who lived through that time knows what it is before I even say the word: AIDS. Suddenly, gay sex could kill you. We knew so little back then, it was best to just stay away. By the time we realized the truth behind the disease, I was married and very happy sexually, thank you. That was before the divorce.

EDIT: Mike, thanks for your comments. Yes, that was the language of the time.