15th June 2001: My first story about self-sucking which has fascinated me since one of my classmates at school used to do it as a sort of ‘party piece’ when he was in the right mood.

Tom Stays Over

My sister Adrianne went out with this guy called Tom when she was in her late teens. He was in the Upper Sixth of Devonshire school, a posh private boys’ school in the South of England. My sister definitely saw him as a bit of a catch. Not only was head boy of the school and the captain of its rugby team, he had a reputation for being hung like a donkey. He knew he looked hot and he tended to flaunt it. My sister matched up quite well. She’d inherited my mother’s Norwegian good looks – she was tall, blond, intelligent and had tits so round and perfect that even though I was her younger brother I used to jerk off thinking about them.

Anyway, this is mainly about Tom. I’m four years younger than my sister so I guess I was 14 when this happened. Tom was staying over at our house for my sister’s 18th birthday meal. My sister couldn’t do things in a straightforward way and so one birthday party wasn’t enough. She wanted to have a sophisticated night in with me, my brother Gareth, our parents and Tom. She and Tom would cook a meal for us and my parents would supply some wine and stuff. Then, on the following Saturday, she was going to have a giant piss-up and had booked a hall in our local leisure centre for all of her and Tom’s friends. My parents, Gareth and I were considered too square for that so we were strictly forbidden to go anywhere near it.

So on the night of her birthday we all had this meal. I can’t remember what was in it but, knowing Adrianne, it would have been something pretentious and tasteless. Tom was staying over with us because neither he nor my parents wanted to stay sober to drive him home. There was no way he and Adrianne could sleep together in my parent’s house – my mother would not have such immorality under her roof (which was kind of weird since everyone knew they were shagging like rabbits every chance they got) – so Tom had to bunk up in my room.

I went to bed around midnight I guess. The “adults” stayed up a while longer. I lay in bed but I was unable to get to sleep. Eventually, at around two o’clock, I heard voices on the landing outside my room and then the door opened, flooding light into the room. Tom came in quietly and closed the door. He switched on my desklamp and directed it towards the wall, I suppose so that he didn’t disturb me, and started to undress.

I wondered whether to let him know I was awake. It felt kind of weird watching him take his clothes off. If he realised I was awake he’d think I was perving on him and he’d tell people. We went to different schools but rugby teams travel around a lot and word would soon spread that I’d been spying on him. By the time I’d thought all this, though, he was taking his shirt off and it seemed even more weird that I’d lay there for about a minute before saying anything. So I was a bit caught. I had to just lie there and watch him through half-open eyes.

He was a big guy – about six foot four and well built – and he found it difficult to move around in my messy room while trying to be quiet. The camp bed he was going to sleep on didn’t really help matters. He kept accidentally kicking it making it thump against the wall. When he’d taken off his shirt, he started loosening the belt on his dark blue trousers. The buckle sounded heavy and made metallic clunks as he pulled the leather belt through it. Then he pulled down his flies. He was standing side-on to me and I saw him pull the zip down over the bulge of his crotch. Then he hitched down his trousers, revealing a pair of light grey boxer briefs underneath. They were quite tight, and as he bent over to get his trousers off over his feet, I noticed that the material had stretched over the round cheeks of his butt. In the half-silhouette in which I was looking at him, his backside looked really nice. His back swept down and inwards to his thin waist meeting his round buttocks which stuck out behind him looking solid and firm.

I was feeling quite scared, spying on this guy four years older than me. I felt a bit dirty looking at his butt, even though I’d seen loads of my mates’ arses in the showers and dormitories at school. I suppose it was because he was older and someone who I wanted to be like when I was 18. Not an idol exactly – I don’t go in for such clichŽs – but definitely someone who I thought was cool.

After he took his trousers off, he pulled his white tee-shirt over his head. As he stretched to do this I took a look at the front of his underpants. The material was looser at the front and had a button fly on it. While he had an obvious bulge – one which had clearly packed out the front of his trousers – I couldn’t really make out what was going on inside. The outline of his cock wasn’t obvious. I kept wondering why I was looking. I’d never made a habit of staring at other guys’ crotches. I wasn’t one of the cock-watchers who stood around longer than necessary in the changing rooms at school. I suppose I’d just found myself with an opportunity and was exploiting it.

Turning his back to me, he bent over to take off his socks. He bent right over so his arse was within a foot or so of my face. I really can’t describe how good his butt was. The roundness of his cheeks really appealed to me. They weren’t too big, but really nicely shaped. I knew he used a rowing machine to keep fit and that he and his mates did a lot of cycling. I wondered whether maybe I should get a rowing machine or a bike.

After he’d taken his socks off, he switched off the light and got into his sleeping bag. I heard him scratch and then he just lay there. I started drifting off to sleep.

After half an hour or so, I became aware that the light was on and Tom was moving around. When I opened my eyes I saw the light grey of his shorts pass in front of my face. Then he walked out of the room. I wondered what was going on.

I looked over to his bed and saw an open packet of condoms on top of it. He must have headed off to hump Adrianne. I thought about him and sister fucking. My cock started getting hard. I wasn’t sure if it was responding to thoughts of my sister, with her melon-like tits bouncing around in her black lace bra, or thoughts of Tom’s arse flexing as he drove into her with his light grey boxers around his thighs. Either way, I knew I shouldn’t be thinking those thoughts and felt a bit guilty for getting a stiffy.

I rolled over in bed so I was on my back. I pulled my own briefs down, tucking the waistband under my balls. I slowly jerked my cock using my thumb and forefinger. I was still half asleep but I told myself that my fiddlings with my dick and my thoughts about Adrianne and Tom were totally unconnected. There was no need for me to feel guilty.

I thought about Tom’s chest. It was nicely developed. His pecs were well-built, solid looking. He had a fine covering of light brown hair right across them. His stomach was thin and hard. No hair there. I wrapped my hand right around my dick. It felt quite big in my hand. It was getting larger as I gently eased the foreskin back and forth over my bell end. I thought about the front of Tom’s shorts. I wondered how big his cock was. He had four year’s advantage on me – how much bigger than mine would it be? Would it look like a man’s dick? Or halfway between what mine looked like and how my dad’s looked? I thought about it entering Adrianne’s pussy. I wondered if she found it too big for her. My hand speeded up. I felt my precum leaking onto my duvet. As my hand swept up and down on my dick, my thumb kept brushing against the dampness of it on the duvet. I thought about Tom’s arse. I thought about him bending over to take his socks off. What if I’d have leaned across and sniffed the fabric between his cheeks? Stuck my tongue into the cleft, dampening the material and tasting his sweat and his anus? My hand tightened around my cock. I opened my legs in the bed. My other hand gripped my balls, squeezing them. I wondered if Adrianne held onto the cheeks of Tom’s arse while he drove into her. Kneading them with her palms, pushing her long fingernails into his bum cleft. Scratching the soft pink skin around his hole.

The door opened and Tom almost fell into the room. My hand stopped and, instinctively, I looked at him. No pretending to be asleep now. He closed the door, trying to be quiet, and then looked over at me giving me a broad grin. He looked devilish. I moved my hand away from my dick, hoping Tom hadn’t noticed the bulge it had formed in the middle of my duvet. He walked over to the camp bed. My eyes followed him and I noticed that the front of his shorts were tenting up. He had a hard on. He sat down on the low bed, holding his knees in front of him to hide his cock. I sat up in bed, keeping my duvet firmly over my body to hide my stiff cock which was still poking out from my underpants.

He said, grinning, “Your old man nearly caught us.”

I said, “Hence your stiffy.”

He smiled broadly. He seemed pleased I’d noticed his erection. “Bit too big to hide, I’m afraid.”

He was slightly out of breath. I don’t know how far into their session the two of them had been. I imagine they’d been messing around a bit in her bedroom, and had heard my dad wandering around on the landing, but I never found out.

He said, “So what’s the excuse for your stiffy?”

I was a bit taken aback. I said, “Uh?”

He said, “You were taking a wank when I walked in.” He seemed delighted to be saying this. I must say I’d never heard off people “taking a wank”. “Having a wank”, yeah, but never taking one. I guess it must be an expression among the lads at Devonshire School.

He went on, still grinning, “Hey don’t get me wrong. It’s your room, you can do what you want in it. It’s no fucking big deal, Seb.”

I said, “I woke up with a hard on. I thought you were still downstairs.” I instantly regretted saying that. It sounded too defensive, maybe a bit prim as well. He’d been kidding about with me and I’d proved myself to be totally uncool.

He kept looking at me, still with a mischievous smile on his face. I wondered if he knew the whole story. That I’d spied on him getting undressed and then masturbated thinking about it. I felt quite embarrassed. I wanted to say something that made me sound cool but I couldn’t think of anything. I considered telling him I’d been thinking about some random girl’s tits but it sounded lame so I rejected the idea.

He lay back on top of his sleeping bag. He stretched out. His body really was fantastic. Not like a muscle freak, but just nicely built in the right areas. I felt like a little boy in comparison. He put his hands behind his head. I could see the thick hair in his arm pits. It was slightly darker than the hair on his chest. The folds of his boxer shorts hid most of his crotch area, but in amongst the creases there was a definite ridge heading out from the middle towards his left hip. I wondered if it was just the way the material was folded or if it was the shape of his cock.

Staring at the ceiling, he said, “I don’t know whether to go for another dip.” At first I wondered which swimming pool he was referring to, then I realised he wanted another attempt at shagging my sister. Still looking upwards, he said, “Your dad was drinking a lot of coffee tonight. I reckon he’s going to stay on patrol.” Turning to me, he grinned wickedly and said, “Reckon he’s heard about us Dev boys, eh?”

He took one hand out from under his head and rested it on his stomach. He looked back up the ceiling and said, “Maybe I should follow your example, Sebbie.” Before I considered what he might mean by this I had to overcome my irritation at being called Sebbie. My mother had accidentally called me it earlier in the evening as a leftover from when I was young. Tom had noticed and was taking the piss. I was a bit fucked off.

His hand moved down to his shorts. He rubbed his finger along the ridge. Being solid, it was obviously his hard cock. He said, “Yeah, a bit of self-abuse would probably be safest. When in Rome, huh?” Then he turned to me again and said, more seriously, “Would you mind?”

I wondered if this were a trick. Whether he might call me queer if I said he could masturbate in my room. I considered telling him he couldn’t but then I thought I’d look like a dipstick. So I said, trying to sound nonchalant, “Whatever.” He grinned again. He had really nice teeth.

Abruptly, still lying down, he hoisted his boxer shorts down over his thighs and then bent his knees upwards to get them over his feet. Then he stopped and stared at me, his legs in the air and his boxer shorts around his ankles. I could see the bottom of his arse crack and his balls between his thighs. He said, “Does your Dad come into your room at night?”

I said, “What for?”

He said, snappily, “I don’t fucking know. I mean, am I going to be caught taking a wazz?” Another Dev boys’ expression.

I said, “No.”

He pulled off his shorts and threw them on the floor. Then he stretched out again on top of his sleeping bag and his hand got to work on his dick. It was a bit soft and seemed to behave like a rubber tube in his hand, but it was obviously very large. He looked back up at the ceiling and I think he closed his eyes. He squeezed his cock and played with it, moving it round and round with his fingers. It gradually stiffened and he said, “Shit I really could have done with a fuck tonight.”

I said, “We need a tranquilliser gun to use on my Dad”. Jeez, I can say such dorkish things at times.

Satisfied that it was getting hard, he stood it upright. It was a real monster cock. Thick and long. Maybe 9 or 10 inches. He moved his hand up to his mouth and spat on his palm. Then he returned it to his cock and started easing his foreskin down over his bell end. He had to spit a few times. I guess his bell end was so big his foreskin was too tight to smoothly fit over it. He really had to lube his cock to get it over the head.

He looked up and over at me and said, “You got any baby oil or stuff?”

Seeing me sitting in my bed, with my duvet still wrapped around me, I guess he reconsidered what he was doing. He said, “I can’t believe I’m taking a wank with you. No-one gets to hear about this, right?”

I said, “Shit, I won’t tell no-one. It’s not like the first time I’ve seen a guy wanking.” Again I regretted saying that as soon as I’d said it. I’d seen other boys masturbating at school – being an all-boys school it was literally a daily occurrence – but I wondered whether he would regard that as normal. Maybe in his school seeing a friend have a wank would be considered “gay”.

Discretely adjusting my briefs, I got up and went to my cupboard to look for something he could use as lube. I said, “I don’t have baby oil, but I have some hair gel.”

He said, impatiently, “Yeah yeah” and I passed it over.

Rubbing some of it around the head of his big cock, he said, “Yeah this is no big deal.”

Standing by the side of the camp bed I said, “Actually, it looks like a very big deal to me.”

He laughed out loud and said, “Biggest in the school. Or at least on the rugby team.” Then, as if to reassure himself, “I haven’t seen anyone else’s.”

He started jerking the head, sweeping the foreskin up and down over his angry-looking red bell. It was wet from the hair gel and a white froth had formed around the ring of skin as it moved across the head of his cock. Up until then I wasn’t really hard. A bit more swollen than normal, maybe, but certainly pointing downwards in my briefs. But I think it was the smell from his dick as he started masturbating it that started getting me aroused. I was standing over him, watching this big guy pulling himself off, smelling the sharp odour of his cock and precum over the perfume or the hair gel. And I was getting a hard on.

I walked over to my bed and sat down on the edge of it. I felt a bit weird staring at him jerking off. I was really interested to watch him – but I didn’t want him to think I was odd. I thought I maybe ought to get back into bed and turn away from him as I would a roommate a school, allowing him to enjoy his solitary pleasure in relative privacy. But I wanted to continue looking so I considered pulling my own underpants off and masturbating on my bed.

I wondered how he would react to that. At my school, wanking at the same time as your roommate was not really the done thing. I don’t know why, but there’s an etiquette surrounding masturbation in most boys’ schools, and at mine two guys didn’t do it together unless they were queer. My other worry was that he’d think my cock was small. His ten-incher would make my six-incher look a bit puny.

I took off my tee-shirt and pulled off my dark blue briefs. He didn’t even look over. I got on the bed and pulled the duvet over me. I took another look at him. His right hand was working more quickly on his cock by now, sweeping his foreskin up and down. His other hand was still behind his head and his eyes were closed. He looked really relaxed, jerking himself off, apparently oblivious to what I was doing.

I wanked myself a little, taking regular glances at Tom on the camp bed. He was out of it, though. I was no longer in his thoughts. He was thinking of Adrianne, I guess, or of some other girl he secretly fancied. His fingers fully surrounded his thick cock, pulling his foreskin upwards and downwards to a quickening rhythm. The guy had a big cock and he knew how to enjoy it.

I started pulling myself off. It felt weird lying in my bedroom wanking together with Adrianne’s boyfriend. I tried to act like him – my face directed upwards and my eyes closed. Like this was a perfectly natural thing to be doing. But I was a bit freaked out by it. I couldn’t get fully hard and couldn’t immerse myself in my self-ministrations like Tom seemed to.

Suddenly, he said, “Hey Seb. You wanna see something cool?”

I looked over at him. He was still lying stretched out on the camp bed, his long dick in his hand, but he was looking over at me.

I said, “Yeah. What?”

He said, “You ever see a guy suck himself off?” Again, he grinned at me. His teeth were so perfect.

I said, “No.”

He stood up. His dick stuck out in front of him, arching upwards towards the ceiling. It looked impossibly big when he was standing up. Kind of unnatural. He said, “I need to do this on your bed. No guarantees though. Sometimes I can manage it, sometimes I can’t.”

I didn’t really know what he was talking about. I didn’t associate what he was saying with the few seconds of oral sex that I’d experienced with one of my more adventurous girlfriends earlier that year. I thought this must be one of his strange expressions.

He came over to my bed and said, “Move over then.” I swivelled around so that I was sitting on the bed with my feet hanging over the side. I kept my duvet over me again. For some reason I didn’t want him to see my dick.

He climbed onto my bed, kneeling on it and facing the wall. His dick still pointed outwards, the large bell end looking purple and sore. He repositioned himself and ended up with his bum on my duvet and his legs against my wall. I couldn’t understand what he was doing. He moved his body so that he was lying flat on his back on the bed and pushed his legs further up the wall. He grunted, “Actually, I don’t know if I can do this on a single bed.”

Eventually his bottom was pressing against the wall and his legs were reaching upwards so high that they nearly touched the ceiling. His face looked red as the blood rushed into it from his lower body. I noticed that his cock was growing softer, hanging downwards against his stomach, but still looking as large as it had looked when he was fully erect.

He did a sort of backwards roll. His feet came over his body and his knees ended up resting on the edge of the mattress. His butt pointed upwards. He opened his legs and adjusted himself so that his dick pointed down towards his face. His knees moved outwards as his legs opened more. To give him more room I got off the bed. As he was lying on the duvet, I had nothing to cover myself with so I just stood there with my palms on my thighs trying to casually hide my shrinking cock.

His arms held onto his thighs, hooked over them to pull his crotch towards his face. Watching this I realised he really was going to try to suck his own dick. His dick hung downwards but didn’t get anywhere near his face. He said, still looking red because of the contorted position he’d got himself into, “Be patient… I can do this.”

Then I noticed what his arse looked like. Standing above him bent double like this I could see that his bum cheeks were splayed open. I looked at his lightly haired and slightly sweaty cleft and his pink wrinkled butt hole at the lower end of it. At first I felt embarrassed to look at it. This was a part of Tom that no-one had probably seen – not even my sister. I was looking at the guy’s most intimate spot. His little pink shitter. His sweaty ringpiece.

As he struggled to bring his dick closer to his face, he opened his legs further. The pink ring of skin around his hole opened slightly as he moved around. For a brief moment, he moved his hand up to it and casually scratched it. I don’t think he was even aware that he did that. I noticed that the hairs in his crack were denser and more tightly curled hairy around his hole. His hairy ball sac dangled down under his arse, his weighty balls swinging around as he moved his body to get to his dick. I realised that my dick had grown fully hard and was, like Tom’s before it, arching upwards. I glanced down and thought it a bit small after seeing so much of Tom’s massive cock. My foreskin was pulled right back, like it always is when I’m aroused, and my bell was moist and red.

Tom’s arms repositioned themselves around his thighs to try to pull his crotch further towards his face. I didn’t really notice what was happening with his dick, though – I was fascinated by his arse. Every time Tom tried to push his dick towards his mouth by flexing his muscles, his butthole squeezed closed. Obviously he wasn’t aware of this, and that made it all the more interesting for me, but his anus acted like it had a life of its own. It went from being tightly closed to opening a little when he relaxed.

He said, “I’m well within an inch. Help me out. I can do this.” I moved around so I could better see what was going on with his dick. It hung downwards and its tip was about two inches from his mouth. His tongue reached out from his mouth and tried to lick his bell end but was too short. He gasped, “Come on, Seb. Help me out.”

I said, “How?”

He said, “Jerk me off. If I’m hard I can do this.”

I said, “I’m not jerking you off.” There was no way I was touching another guy’s dick. Not like this anyway.

He said, “For fuck’s sake. Push on my arse then. I’ll toss myself.”

That seemed okay so, as he unhooked his right arm from around his thigh, I put my hands on the top of his thighs, pressing them gently downwards. His hand returned to his cock and he started masturbating it. He couldn’t do a lot with it, actually, because of the awkward position he was in, so he squeezed it and played with his bell end between his finger and thumb to help stiffen it up. It slowly got thicker and the knob of it pushed its way downwards towards his waiting eager mouth. Within about the thirty seconds he managed to sweep his tongue across his own exposed bell, and he groaned his appreciation.

I said, “That’s pretty impressive.” I couldn’t think of much else to say given the circumstances.

He pulled his tongue off his dick and said, breathlessly, “I can get my knob end into my mouth. Push my arse down. Both hands.” I kept my palms on the tops his thighs, pushing gently. He said, “No further up. Right on my arse. And push hard.”

He seemed totally unfazed by the idea of me, another guy, having my hands on his arse. I was a bit hesitant, though. I’d admired his round cheeks and fantasised about his anus, but actually touching another guy around this area, with all its homosexual inferences, was a bit scary to me.

He licked the end of his cock again, making swirling movements with his tongue around his piss slit and grunted at me impatiently. He wanted me to move in on his butt.

I positioned my hands so that my thumbs pointed in towards his hole and my fingers pointed up towards his back. His buttocks felt warm and slightly hairy. They didn’t look at all hairy but there was definitely a soft fuzz on his skin. They were firm and I could feel their muscles tensing as he struggled to taste his own dick. I pushed them downwards, being careful not to hurt him. He grunted impatiently again and I assumed this indicated that I had not pushed hard enough.

I shifted the positions of my hands, moving inwards. My thumbs sneaked into his cleft which felt hotter and wetter than the cheeks of his arse. I pushed downwards again and he made another grunting noise. Looking round to his flushed face, I saw that he his lips covered most of his bell end. He had puckered them out to get as much of his cock inside his mouth as he could. He moved his mouth up and down over the few centimetres of his dick that he could get in it. The end was wet from his saliva. His right hand, which had been squeezing the shaft of his cock, moved away from it and hooked around his thigh again.

I took my hands away from his arse and watched Tom enjoy eating his own dick. He could only get about an inch of it into his mouth, but he clearly loved the feelings that it was giving him. His mouth slid up and down over its swollen end and his tongue kept licking as far up the shaft as it could, tasting the furrows of his foreskin which were rolled back behind the base of the bell.

He became aware of me looking on, probably with a dumbass expression on my face, and he smiled as he sucked his own dick. I think he actually had to suppress a laugh. His face was a dark red as he moved it in and out from his large cock. Moving back around so I could see his arse, I noticed that his hole was now more exposed than before, and was opening and closing as he tensed and relaxed to maintain his rhythm. I really wanted to lick around his hole, to taste the smell of it. I noticed his large balls were hanging low, almost banging against the bridge of his nose as his head bobbed up and down on his dick. He was getting a really good look at his own balls – they were little more than a couple of inches away from his eyes.

At one point he stopped sucking and pulled his mouth away from his dick. He lay there panting in this weird position, his anus staring up at me like a third eye. I moved around so that I could see his face and dick properly. He glanced over at me and smiled again. The redness of his face made his teeth look even whiter. He said, still breathing heavily, “The problem with sucking your own dick is that it’s a bit too much like hard work.”

“And it must taste disgusting,” I added. I figured this to be a straight-guy kind of thing to say.

Slowly jerking his cock, obviously trying to keep it hard during his rest, he said, “No, actually. It’s just tastes kind of salty. Certainly not as bad as licking out a girl.”

He looked at it carefully. He seemed to be studying a clear drip of precum which was hanging from his piss slit. He rubbed his bell end between his thumb and forefinger as if milking it out. Then he licked it off.

He turned back to me and, grinning broadly, said, “Do you want a taste? Or have you already tasted one?”

I didn’t know what to say to that so I just let it go. He returned to his cock, licking the swollen head at first and then getting his mouth around as much of the shaft as he could, bobbing his neck up and down. He seemed by now to be able to get two or three inches of it in his mouth. The hair on his heavy ball sac started tickling his nose.

I moved my head back around behind him so I could watch him sucking his cock through his legs and get another look at his arse. I got as close as I could to him without looking queer. His butt hole was open even more widely than before – his cheeks had parted so much that his buttcleft was barely visible – it was just a slight hairy groove between his broad round cheeks. I could see the dark inside of his arse behind the delicate looking pink ring of skin around his hole. It looked so hot that I felt my own cock rising upwards again, demanding the attention of my hand.

I looked at his large balls, swinging around. The hairs were starting to irritate him by now, tickling his nose and getting in his eyes. They swung low in their wrinkled bag. Behind them, I could see part of his thick wet cock and his hungry mouth sliding up and down on it.

He let out a loud fart. He immediately laughed despite having his own cock in his mouth. With apparent difficulty, he bent his neck back enough to get his cock out from his mouth and said, laughing openly now, “Oh fucking gross. Sorry Seb. I really didn’t know I was going to do that.”

I pretended to find it funny but was actually a bit disgusted. I’d been right near his butt when he farted. My cock started softening.

He said, “I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.” He then took his hand off his dick and moved it around to his butt. His middle finger found his hole and started pushing itself in. “Christ it’s as wide as a fucking whore’s cunt,” he said as he got the end of his finger inside.

He pulled his finger out again suddenly, his butt making a quiet popping sound, and licked the end of it. He didn’t seem to care that it had just been inside his arse – he just licked the end of it. Then his hand returned to his backside and he stuck about half of his finger up his arsehole.

I was kind of amazed by all this. I’d never seen a guy finger his own butt before – never even thought about doing it to myself. And yet here was this straight guy casually doing just than on my bed.

He said, casually, “Won’t go off again.” He returned again to licking and sucking his dick. I looked on, realising how bizarre this whole situation was. I supposed that Tom must have done this kind of thing regularly with his mates – like on rugby team piss-ups and sixth form parties. Maybe he just saw it as a cool thing to do in front of other guys. Showing off his unique talents. Or maybe he was proud of his body and liked having other people checking him out.

He started sucking on his dick again, his lurching up and down to eat as much of it as he could. I noticed his finger moving around in his butt. In retrospect, I reckon he’d used the fart as an opportunity to finger himself. It must have been something he liked to do to himself and he wanted to do it despite me seeing him.

We stayed like that for about two minutes. Him sucking away eagerly at his cock, getting about four inches of it into his mouth by the end. His balls thumping around, almost hitting the bridge of his nose. His eyes closed to stop the hairs on ball sac getting into them. His finger wiggling around in his butt, sliding in a bit then out a bit, eventually getting about three quarters of it stuck in. Me standing behind him watching him. Looking at his butt. Enjoying seeing him penetrating himself. Masturbating my own hard cock as I watched him enjoying the separate rhythms of his mouth and finger.

Then he stopped and looked up at me. Stared at me through his own legs from beneath his large ball sac. I stopped wanking. He pulled his finger out from his butt – now it made a louder squelching sound – and used his hand to guide his dick out from his mouth. He seemed to find this difficult: I guess once you’ve got your own dick in your mouth, it must be hard to disentangle yourself. He said, in a half-whisper, “Help me out Seb. Hold my balls.”

Then he started sucking on his cock again. His hand stayed around his cock, masturbating the lower half of the stem that his mouth couldn’t reach. I reached out and cupped his balls in my hand. Held them away from his eyes and his nose. Stopped them annoying him. They felt warm and heavy. They rolled around in their thick wrinkled sac as he recovered his rhythm. The hair on them felt long and soft. I gently stroked them, gently squeezed them. My other hand returned to my dick and started pulling it again. I knew that I was getting close to cumming.

I looked at his open arse, now looking redder from the intrusions of his finger. I could smell a sharp sweaty smell coming from him. A definite anal smell. Not unpleasant – just a smell I recognised as similar to that of my own butt. I didn’t question why at the time, but I wanted so much to lick around his wide gaping arsehole. It was wide open for me to get my tongue stuck in but I just didn’t dare. Instead, as I held his balls in my fingers, I rubbed the ridge between his balls and his butt hole with my thumb. It felt hot and very wet from his sweat. He groaned his appreciation. His mouth was working quickly on his cock: as quickly as my hand on my own.

I pulled his balls upwards in my fingers as my thumb headed towards his open hole. He didn’t stop me. He still had an arm hooked around the tops of his thighs, holding them down, and he could have grabbed my hand with his if he’d wanted to stop me. But he just lay there using his mouth on himself as I rubbed my thumb around his ring. I drew circles around it. The circles got smaller and smaller as I worked my way towards the hole. Then I reached it and pushed the end of my thumb, just the top half inch or so, into his hole. It offered little resistance. He was so sweaty it just slid in. It felt red hot inside his butt.

Then I felt the ring of his arse gripping the top of my thumb in spasms – squeezing it, pumping it. I thought he was doing that on purpose – another rugby team trick maybe – but when I looked down at his face I saw from his eyes that he was cumming. Still masturbating my own hard cock, I moved my head around so I could see his. I could see his mouth, still moving up and down on his dick but now more slowly. He had strings of semen around his mouth. But he was still sucking, milking it with his lips, and it was obvious that he’d swallowed most of his cum.

After he’d finished lapping up the last drops of his semen, he lay there with his eyes closed for about five seconds. Then, abruptly, he did a forward roll and manoeuvred himself back into a sensible position. He sat on my bed with his legs open, knees up in front of him, getting his breath back. His face slowly returned to its usual colour. I saw his large balls hanging down between the tops of his thighs. His cock was softening and the foreskin was slowly rolling back to cover the moist purple bell. It still looked really thick though, and was far from limp. It rested heavily on the top of his left thigh, lying in the groove where his leg joined his body.

He said, “Actually that was quite good.” Then he looked at me wickedly and grinned.

I still had my hand around my dick as I stood in front of him, staring. He looked at me and I felt a bit silly standing in front of another guy like that, so I tried to stand more casually with both of my hands in front of my crotch. I was still hard – still wanting to wank – but I felt that the moment had passed and I wanted this to end.

He stood up and walked over to the camp bed. He said, “Well, I think we better get some kip, Seb.” He bent over to sort out his sleeping bag and I momentarily saw his anus for the last time. He got into his sleeping bag and, after switching off the light, I got into my bed.

Oddly, I thought it would be rude to finish masturbating while he was in the room. It seemed like when he’d cum a line had been drawn under the whole event. That had been the conclusion. We were now back to as we had been: Adrianne’s boyfriend bunking up for one night with me, the dweeby kid brother. So I lay there thinking about what we’d done and wondering why I’d enjoyed seeing and playing with this older guy’s arse so much.

When I woke up the next day, Tom was still asleep. When I came out from the bathroom, he had borrowed my robe and was having breakfast with Adrianne. I dressed and went down to join them and they both greeted me. He smiled and pissed about with me, as usual, and basically acted like nothing had happened. Actually, I think that to him nothing of any significance had taken place. He’d just done something that straight guys do together when they’re pissed and horny.

I don’t think he ever gave it second thought.

 

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