Chapter 11 – Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

"How do we do this?" Steve asked as we settled on the floor of the family room, sitting cross-legged and stripped to our underpants. It was obvious we were both excited about what was about to happen.

"Beats me," I responded. "You've at least had sex before. I never have."

"It has to be pretty much the same."

"One would think."

"We should lie down," Steve insisted. We did, on our sides and face to face. Steve pressed his groin to mine and started rubbing against me. I gripped his hip and pulled him harder into me. Our foreheads were pressed together.

I rolled onto my back, pulling him on top of me. I raised my knees and spread my legs as Steve moved his hips and crotch against me. I was quickly headed over the edge, and I could tell he was, too. He breathed raggedly into my ear. "I'm so close."

"Me, too."

I shoved my hands down the back of his briefs and squeezed his cheeks as hard as I could. He panted and came, grunting as he did. I was so thrilled, I came, too, filling my briefs.

"Wow, that was pretty awesome."

I didn't think so. I was disappointed. I wanted to touch him with my hands and my mouth. I wanted to kiss him, lick him, suck him.

He rolled off of me and onto his back, announcing he needed to catch his breath.

"I'm taking my underwear off," I announced. "I don't want my cum to dry in them."

"That's a good idea. Me, either."

We stood up and stepped out of our briefs. For the first time, I was looking sexually at a live, naked man. Steve was looking back at me.

I had been right about his dark chest hair. I was a narrow patch, but it was thick. It stopped at his diaphragm and re-started at his navel, trailing down to a thick bush above and around his penis. It had felt large against me, and I could tell looking at him soft that he was hung, certainly moreso than I was. Like his arms, Steve's legs were also hairy and muscled, and the tops of his feet were hairy, too.

Mine were not. I had more hair on my chest and stomach, but it was blond and curly. My body was not as defined as Steve's, but it had come a long way in my two summers at the plant. I was just over 6 inches maxed out, and thick enough, although by no means thick.

I got hard as a I looked at Steve, and I felt a desire from somewhere deep within to feel him inside me. "So, you've fucked girls?" I asked.

"One. Sally. A lot."

"You want to try with me?"

"Seriously?"

"Sure," I said, more confidently than I was. I moved to the floor, on my stomach. Steve moved behind me.

"I'm not sure how to do this," he said.

"I don't want to oversimplify things," I said, "but I think it's pretty much the same. You slide in and start going."

"Help me in."

I reached behind me, touched him for the first time, and guided him to my opening. He pushed, but nothing happened. He pushed again, but nothing happened again.

"I think we need something," I said. "Like lotion or oil."

"You're probably right. Sally's always soaked when we have sex. I slide right in."

He left and returned with Extra Virgin Olive Oil from the kitchen. When he showed it to me, I laughed at the "Extra Virgin" promise. He caught my drift and started laughing, too.

We were both nervous, but we were also both having fun.

When we were re-positioned, he poured some on him and poured way too much into my crack. It did the trick. Both of us were slippery, and it was much easier for him to push in. I gasped when his head pushed past my ring. He was thicker even than he looked.

"Stop, please."

"Am I hurting you?"

"Of course."

"You want me to pull out?"

"Of course not. Just let me catch my breath." I paused for what seemed like forever, but was probably only a matter of seconds. "Okay, I think I'm ready for more. Please go slow."

I'm sure Steve thought he was going slow, but he wasn't. He was only 18, so slow was not in his bones. He pushed the rest of the way in.

I had never heard the noise that came from within me as he filled me. It was somewhere between a low moan and a deep gasp. I hadn't realized it, but I was biting my forearm to stifle whatever noise I wanted to make.

"Please hold still."

"I'm not sure I can."

"You have to."

I was sweating. I felt full. Somehow, I also felt happy. I loved the feeling of being covered and full. I felt something inside me give. Steve gasped when it did.

"Eric, can I move now? I'm about to come."

"Yes, but please go slow."

Steve pulled slowly out and then lowered himself slowly back in. I felt a little pain and a lot of excitement.

"Oh my God," Steve whispered in my ear. "You're so smooth and tight and warm."

Combined with the rubbing of my dick against the sleeping bag, the whispering sent me over the edge, and I finished. I must have clenched as I did, because Steve twitched and finished inside me. He grunted as he did.

Neither of us moved. Steve relaxed on top of me, and we both tried to get our minds around what we had just done. Steve slid his fingers between mine. His hands were large and strong. He softened and slid out of me.

"Was that horrible?" he asked, in a gentle whisper.

"Not at all. I kind of liked it."

"Really?"

"Did you?"

"Sure. A lot. It was super tight."

"I liked it, too, I think."

"Didn't it hurt?"

"Some. But, the thrill kind of drowned that out, after a bit."

"Can I do it again?"

"Sure. When you're ready."

I rolled out from under him and took him in my hand. I wanted to really touch him. He was warm and soft and tender. His glans was silky. It was not long before he was hardening in my hand.

I rolled onto my stomach and guided him back in. He was flat on my back again, moving in and out of me. He lasted a lot longer. I loved the feeling of him moving in and out of me, the sound of his breath quickening as he moved closer and closer to the edge, the thickening of him as he grunted "Oh God" and filled me.

We were both sweating when he rolled off of me, onto his back, and ran his hands through his hair. "Wow," was all he said.

I scrambled over him. I straddled him, took myself in my hand, and brought myself over the edge. I coated his stomach and chest. He winced a little when the first jolt hit him. I don't think he was thrilled by the idea of being coated. I was. I felt like I was marking him.

Steve discreetly left to clean himself up. When he was back, so did I.

When I returned, Steve was on back, his underwear back on. I settled next to him, put my head on his shoulder, and played with his chest hair.

"Can I ask you a question?" I asked.

"Another one?" Steve responded, sophomorically.

"Sure," I answered, dismissively.

"How did that compare to having sex with a girl."

"Funny, I was just thinking about the same thing. It's close. It's harder at first, but, once you get going, it feels pretty much the same. Definitely tighter, but I suspect that depends on the girl. I suspect a virgin girl is close to a virgin guy. I don't know for sure, I've never taken anyone's cherry. Sally's pretty loose."

"You took my cherry."

"I don't think guys have cherries."

"It sure felt like I did."

I tickled Steve's chest and stomach. I tickled him through his underwear.

"It'll be good practice for you," I offered.

"I guess it will."

"Will you take your underwear back off?"

"Sure," he answered, raising his hips and sliding them off. I returned my hand to him, tickling his balls, his length, his pelvis, and his taint.

"Does that feel good?" I asked.

"Yes. Very."

"Do you want me to try to give you blow job?"

"Sure. If you're up for it."

"I am," I answered, showing him my hard on through my briefs and laughing at the play on words.

I moved between his legs. I wasn't sure what to do, but my limited experience reading gay porn suggested it was not a difficult task. I licked my lips and moved my mouth toward him. The smell emanating from his crotch made me lightheaded. As when my fingers touched it, his glans was silky and smooth on my tongue. Steve twitched when they made contact. I encircled him with my mouth. I heard another low moan as I did. I cupped his balls with my left hand and started moving my mouth up and down his length. Steve started raising his hips to match my rhythm. Before long, he tapped me on the shoulder and said "I'm close." I think he was trying to warn me so I could pull off, but there was no way I was pulling off. I wanted him to come in my mouth. I wanted the full experience of my first blow job. And, I wanted to bring him as much pleasure as I could.

"Oh, God, I'm gonna come, I'm gonna come," Steve cried out, just before filling my mouth. It was his fourth load in less than two hours, so it was weak and small. I didn't care. I swallowed it all. It was bitter and salty and delicious and made me gag a little and then made me very, very happy.

I kept at it until Steve insisted that I stop. I moved to his balls and his thighs, kissing and licking and not wanting the experience ever to end.

"How was I?" I asked.

"Awesome."

"As good as a girl?"

"I don't know. I've never gotten a blow job before."

"Really? Sally doesn't blow you?"

"No. She let's me fuck her, but she barely touches my dick, usually only to help me in. She won't even consider sucking it."

"I'll suck it whenever you want."

"I'm going to want a lot."

I hoped so.

We fell asleep naked. When we awoke, light was streaming into the room, and we could hear dishes in the kitchen. I wondered if Steve's parents had checked on us. If they had, there's be no mistaking what had happened. We were in the same sleeping bag, wrapped around each other.

We dressed hurriedly. Steve didn't look at me, much less talk to me. He sent me into the kitchen first. Apparently, I was the scout.

"Good morning, Eric," Mr. Lustig greeted me. "Did you sleep well?"

"I did."

I sat down to a cup of coffee. As I sipped it, I realized that, even if Mr. Lustig had looked in on us, he could not say a word. He'd have to keep our secret if he expected me to keep his.

Steve came into the kitchen from the bathroom. After I'd left the family room, he rolled up the sleeping bags and tucked the Olive Oil into the center of one of them. He'd have to sneak it back when no one was looking.

I couldn't read Steve. I couldn't tell if his aloofness was a mask or regret.

When breakfast was over, I asked if I could use the telephone to call my mother to retrieve me. "No need," said Mr. Lustig. "I'll drive you."

"Let Steve do it," Mrs. Lustig offered.

"That's okay. I'll do it. I want to talk to Eric. And, I want to swing by the plant for a bit. There'll be no one there. I'll catch up on some paperwork, undisturbed.'

I knew it was all a ruse. There's be no trip to the plant.