11-16-2025, 11:11 AM
Belleville, Illinois, just east of St. Louis, Missouri. I was fourteen, and it was my first year of high school. I sort of kind of knew I was gay, but was still sort of hoping I wasn't. But the way I felt about guys was really hard to deny. I liked guys so much. The gym showers were really proof I was gay. I was almost desperate to suck a cock and try fucking a guy and being fucked. But it was the early eighties and being gay was not cool at all. You'd lose your friends and be an outcast. So I hid it.
All guys were hot, mostly, but I really liked the blond guys. Especially one of my friends. Jeff had that kind of all-American boy with Nordic blood looks: half-shaggy blond hair, blue eyes, tall and broad but lean and trim. I sort of had it bad for guys in general, and Jeff was pretty damned hot, and a great guy, so I really sort of had it bad for him. We didn't have gym together, so I had no idea what his body was like. Other than a few times I'd seen him without a shirt or something, I'd never seen anything of his body. But his jeans proved he had a nice butt, and that he was developing down there in front really well too.
Some talk with him and other friends proved who had pubes and who made semen. We never did any kind of show and tell or anything. We all admitted we jacked off. Jeff and me talked about sex and stuff a lot. Maybe the most of all my friends. So maybe that was one reason I sort of liked him so much. But his looks and his personality were also big reasons too.
We lived three blocks from each other, but in high school we had to ride different busses. Usually I rode the bus home and then my bike over to his house and got there a little after four. But one day I missed the bus to school and rode my bike. It was actually a little faster. I didn't think to mention that to Jeff at school. So after school I rode my bike straight to his house and got there before three-thirty.
I went in the front door and upstairs, and to his bedroom door. And was stopped dead in my tracks. We'd never had gym together, so I had no idea what he was packing down there until that moment. He was lying on his bed, his jeans and underwear around his ankles, and beating his meat. He didn't see me standing there in the doorway.
I didn't know if I should knock, go back downstairs and make a lot of noise coming back up, go outside and wait until the usual time I got there and come back in, or what. So I just sort of stood there in amazement for a few seconds. Man, that thing had to be over six inches!
I wanted to walk up to him and take over, and then use my mouth and suck his cum out of him.
Then he saw me. I made a step forward like I had just walked in, and sort of did a double-take.
"Oh, sorry, man," I said. "Either put it away for now, or finish up real quick."
Man, how I hoped he would he finish!
And then I said something that I was thinking, and I still can't believe I actually said out loud.
"Or let me give you a hand."
I made it out as a kind of joke. But I was actually really serious. Ya know?
"What?" he said, looking shocked.
"I said, put it away for now, or finish up real quick."
I almost pretended I hadn't said the rest, but since he didn't look freaked out or grossed out, I said it again.
"Or let me give you a hand with it," I added again, giving him a sort of laughing smile and putting my pack down on the floor.
"You really said that," he said.
He was still holding his dick, and it wasn't going down.
Then he added, "You know, guys have been giving friends hand-jobs since before there was writing."
We were both bookish nerds, and we knew that. Man, my guts spun around inside me! How did he dare say that? But I could feel my hard-on in my jeans and that huge sexy tingle all through my groin. I had to take the chance.
I bet he didn't expect me to say what I did next.
"Okay."
"Yeah?" he asked.