We were young, just out of high school. I wouldn’t say I was particularly good friends with Dylan, in that I never called him my best friend or, for that matter, even a close friend. He could be awkward, socially, and never quite fit in with my main group of friends. But we lived near to each other, saw each other frequently, and did plenty of activities together over the years growing up. To give a visual, at the time, I was about 160 or so pounds, dark brown hair and green eyes, tall and slim. He was thinner and shorter than me, blondish-brown hair and blue eyes. I played soccer and ran cross country. We had, at first, played soccer together, but he’d stopped playing sometime around sophomore or junior year.
It started innocently, at least from my perspective, or as innocent as two 18-year-old guys can be. It was a warm summer night, and I was at his house, lounging with him on chairs in his backyard. His parents were out of town, and we had somehow procured a 12-pack of cheap beer to split. We’d already had about 3 each. Graduation was a couple of weeks behind us, and the celebration parties had quieted down. We were talking, I think, about girls and sex–who was hot, who was not, who had done what with who, and the like. It was a conversation I’d had repeatedly since I turned 14 with all my guy friends and thought nothing of it. I wasn’t a virgin, at the time, but I could still count on one hand the times I had had sex. Then the conversation took a turn I wasn’t expecting.
“Maybe a weird question, but, how often do you, you know, jack off?”
It was a weird question (I remember thinking, not really a question I could see any of my other friends asking), but one I didn’t mind answering.
“Honestly, probably once a day. I mean, I don’t know if that’s a lot or anything, but I’ll have days go by where I don’t, but I’d say, on average, like once a day.”
“Yeah, same here.” He gave out an embarrassed laugh. “Do you look at porn?”
“Not really. I mean, I have before, but not frequently,” I said. (This, I think, was around the same time Pornhub and the like was founded or at least before I even knew what it was; porn was not freely and easily accessible like it is today.)
He just nodded, as if in agreement, but honestly I don’t know what he was thinking. We both took a few more sips of our beers. You could hear the cicadas singing and sun had almost completely set. For a moment, it seemed like any ordinary summer night. But I’d felt a charge run through my body once he had changed the topic from the sex others were having to me, in particular. It both turned me on and felt freeing, in a sense of divulging a part of me that I had never talked to anyone about before (or in any way other than typical locker room talk)–yes, I did masturbate, and yes, I did it once a day. I wanted, in other words, to keep the conversation going, and I was curious about him, too. And maybe sensing my eagerness or willingness, Dylan delivered.
“I mean, yeah, it’s hard to find good stuff, you know. A lot of the girls are just not hot, or you have to pay to watch. But I’ve found some good stuff that I like.”
“Yeah, like what?”
“Nothing like crazy, but you know, girls that look more like the girls we go to school with, and they’re with normal looking guys, not what you typically see. I’ve got a pretty good collection at this point.”
“Must be nice to have your own computer.”
“Want to see?”
“I mean, sure, yeah, what else have we got to do?”
I took another sip of beer and followed him into his house. I was remember thinking that I was aroused, but that was also par for the course of being an 18-year-old. We went into his room and he turned on his computer. While the computer booted up, he grabbed a chair from another room so we both had chairs. We sat down and he started opening some folders and typing in passwords or something, I wasn’t really paying attention, but after some time, he had pulled up a folder that had images and videos.
“You ready?” He asked.
He starting opening some images. They were about what you would imagine–hot, naked, college-aged women, striking various poses and of varying degrees of nudity. Some were just breasts bared, others were fully naked, still others were fully exposing themselves for the camera.
“Damn, these are great,” I said.
He kept flipping through more images, some tasteful, some more hardcore, and then he opened up a video and started playing it. It was, sad to say, typical jack-hammering type porn, but arousing nonetheless for the very fact that I was watching it with someone else.
“I don’t know about you,” Dylan started saying, “But I’m getting pretty horny.”
I think I just nodded or muttered a quick agreement. But he wasn’t wrong: I was horny, and I was hard, and I was sitting close enough to Dylan that our forearms were touching. The jack-hammering video had ended and he had started another–a lesbian scene.
“Do you think, I mean, you don’t have to, but, it doesn’t bother me if you want to jack off,” he said to me.
“Right, yeah, I mean, same. If you want to, go for it.” I could see the bulge of his cock under his shorts.
“Yeah, ok.”
I felt a burst of boldness and quickly pushed down my shorts so I was just sitting in my boxer briefs. He watched me, and then he did the same. I turned my attention back to the computer screen–one girl was making her way down the body of the other, kissing her breasts, then stomach, her hand moving down the other’s thigh and then up to the center of her legs. I put my hand in my boxer briefs, and, involuntarily, let out a small moan as my hand finally touched my hard cock. I started to move up and down my shaft slowly, feeling overwhelmed by the graphic sex scene unfolding on the computer screen and the fact that I was sitting right next to another guy who was also touching himself. I looked down, and saw that he was looking at my hand in my underwear. We were both going slow, restrained by our underwear, and still unsure how far we would be willing to go.
“Do you, I mean, should we take off our underwear, too? It’s a little hard to really jack off with them on,” he said.
“Right, yeah, I’ll take mine off if you take yours off.”
He nodded and we both stood up, looking at each other shyly, and then quickly pushed down our briefs over our hard cocks–we paused for a second, and then took off our shirts too–and then sat back down. I had seen him naked before, but never before hard. It felt different. More raw, maybe, or arousing in a way that felt forbidden, then the times I had been naked with the opposite sex. My heart was pounding. Our packages were similar. Both cut and both probably around 6.5″ to 7″, though I seemed thicker than him. We were both trying not to look at the other, but I could sense he was watching me out of the corner of his eye, the porn almost forgotten.
“This is much better,” he said, starting to stroke himself more regularly. I did the same and saw that the video had ended. The next video was of a guy and a girl, more sensual than the first and more similar to my own experiences. I remember comparing my dick and Dylan’s dick to the guy in the video and thinking that we stacked up well.
We both started getting into it, focusing on the video and stroking ourselves. Occasionally our elbows would touch as we shifted in our seats–it might have been on purpose or it might have been an accident, but not knowing, I think, was even more arousing. I would watch, briefly, to see how he jacked off–it was slightly different than me (I focused more on the head, and he seemed to focus more on his entire shaft)–and I could see the pre-cum starting to form on his tip.
“How long does it usually take you,” I asked. I let out a small moan after the question had left my mouth.
“Depends, but I think I’m getting close.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“Do you want to come?”
I just nodded and kept going, as the guy and the girl in the porn switched from missionary to doggy style, stroking myself faster and feeling close. Dylan did the same. By this point, while it all still felt surreal, his naked body next to mine, almost touching, most of the nerves had melted away and it seemed we both had a singular focus on coming.
I noticed that he had stopped watching the video and now was mostly focused on watching me touch myself. I did the same. We could hear the moans from the video, but it was so much more visceral to watch him and his cock and his hands and listen to the way we both tried to keep from overly moaning. With my free hand, I moved to cup my balls as I got close to finishing, speeding up; he did the same, both of us abandoning any remaining pretenses–we were going to come in front of each other and we were going to watch each other do it.
He came first, his eyes locked on my cock. His cum shot out of his cock, up to his chest and then down his stomach, as his body trembled, his breath shaky. I watched him and looked him in the eyes, and then felt the contractions all down my body as I too came all over my stomach and let out a deep moan. We both looked at each other, unsure exactly what the other was thinking, but realizing we had crossed some line.
“Here, I’ll get something to clean up with.” He left–and I remember thinking, holy shit, did that just happen? He came back with two wash rags, still naked and still hard. He, unlike me, had no hair on his body, I somehow only registered for the first time. Even his pubes were minimal. I felt slightly embarrassed as I cleaned up the mess. He stopped the video, and we both pulled up our underwear and our shirts. I was still incredibly turned on, but I didn’t know what to do or say at that point. It was all foreign territory. I think I muttered something about needing to head home; he nodded and walked me to the door. And then I walked home, still in shock.
“So, that’s all that happened? I thought you said there was more.” My wife was naked next to me in our bed, running her hands up my thighs and occasionally touching my cock as I told her a story I thought I would never tell anyone.
“Well, yes, but it had to start somewhere.”
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/oy7d4l/summer_nights_part_1
Hot story! I can’t wait to see more!