Here is another Memory from Graham in Manchester about his teen years
At school I used to hang around with Eric. We lived a fair distance apart, a good 45 minutes walk. We would hang around during school holidays – fortunately both our mothers worked part time but on different days. He had a younger sister (I have a story about her to write up) but he refused to baby-sit her and she refused to be baby-sat by him so she would spend the days with her mate in the next avenue whose grandma lived with them and acted as baby sitter. However she would pop home now and again to collect say roller-skates or her bike, so we had to be a bit more careful when it came to smoking and reading girlie mags.
On the two days we would be at his house, because he sometimes would go fishing with another class mate, but they wouldn’t decide until last minute, checking the weather first, luckily they were on the phone, so I would go to the call box at the end of our Avenue and call. It was the days of button A and button B so you got a couple of seconds to speak before you pressed button A to pay for the call. Eric would shout yes I’m home and I would put the phone down, press button B to get the three pence back and walk to his house. If I didn’t get an answer I would stay at home.
If Eric was coming to our house, once everyone had gone off to work I would nip downstairs, make a cup of tea get the paper and go back upstairs leaving the door off the latch. Eric would let himself in and shout up; I would get dressed and come downstairs. If he hadn’t arrived by ten I would assume he had gone fishing and wasn’t coming.
So I would come downstairs with some girlie mags and our routine was to have a cup of tea and a smoke while browsing the magazines, then one of us would go upstairs to the loo, pull off a wank and come back downstairs. Then the other of us would do the same. Then make a fresh brew and start again. But we didn’t talk about wanking! We didn’t say I’m going for a wank now, or that was a good wank, or did you enjoy that? It was as though we were pretending to go for a wee. We would do that until lunchtime then we would go out, (we were at that age where we were too old to play out, too young to go out) so we would go down the railway tracks or to the chippy, then back to the house. Now that our balls had refilled we would pull off another couple of wanks then Eric would make tracks for home.
One day Eric was late and I had assumed he had gone fishing and wasn’t coming and so I would make my own entertainment. This meant getting some girlie magazines out my hiding place and browsing through them. On my own the routine was to browse just one of the girl picture sets and pick a favourite shot, then read through the stories, letter pages, etc and get horny and rock hard, turn back to the picture selected earlier, and pull off a wank. Wipe up, pop downstairs, make a cup of tea, have a fag then go back to bed and start again and keep going until I had no more juice left or my bell-end was sore. Or both!
So this particular day I’m on my bed, not in it, naked and and erect and had just wrapped my fingers round my cock when who should appear at my bedroom door but Eric! Oh my god, open the ground and swallow me up.
Eric and I had seen each other naked in the showers at school (reassuringly all the boys in our year were average size, although there were some variations of shrinkage when we first came in from the cold football field, after a hot shower we were all normal size and amounts of body hair). But this was different, I’m naked on my bed, erect and about to pull off a wank.
But Eric just said “Good idea. I’ve been dying for a wank all the way here. Don’t mind me, carry on” and came into the room and started pulling his jumper and shirt over his head; he was going to get naked! He stripped right off, picked up a magazine sat in my chair and started reading, holding the magazine with one hand and stroking himself to a quick semi with the other. Instead of shrinking with embarrassment I stayed rock hard and was now, strangely, extra horny. Was there some electrifying homo-erotica going on? I don’t know, but I started to wank and it did feel strange having another person and a boy, a mate at that, occasionally glancing over and watching.
As I glanced at him he was quickly going to semi then hard, so I carried on, increasing my pace, stroking my shaft, while my foreskin dragged backwards and forwards over my bell-end so it gradually lubricated itself, reducing the friction, then not lasting very long, my balls squeezed up, my hips jerked, and BANG! I shot my load.
Stupidly in my embarrassment/excitement I forgot to have a tissue ready and my cum shot up my body, the first spurt hit my chin with subsequent weaker shots leaving a long string of jizz down my chest and tummy with the last few dribbles going into my belly button and pubes; doncha hate it when that happens? When the spasms stopped I went off to the bathroom to clean up.
When I returned Eric was now wanking sat in my chair with the magazine open at the centrefold. It was erotic watching him. His style was different to mine, he had his foreskin pulled back and had spit on his hand and instead of stroking the shaft his hand worked in circles over his bell-end which started to lubricated itself. (A technique I would sometimes copy). As he neared his climax his stomach muscles started jerking, his balls shrank and his arse involuntarily lifted of the chair and he shot his load into a tissue. Clever boy being ready for it. I stiffened up again while I had been blatantly watching him, no pretending to read a magazine. I was ready to go again and got back onto my bed and while he went off to the bathroom I pulled off another wank hanging on until he came back into the bedroom jerking my load of off so he couldn’t miss it this time. Exhibitionist eh?
I suggested we might be more comfortable downstairs in the lounge, so we gathered magazines and tissues and without dressing we moved downstairs. So that became our routine, one on the settee, one on the rug, reading the magazines, pulling off wanks, drinking tea and smoking. (I think I sneakily watched him more that he did me, but when I knew he was watching I usually came quicker). We couldn’t do this at his house but for three days a week for the rest of that particular holiday, that was our routine. Then once we got back to school we never did it again, or anything like it, and never mentioned it again.
Round the corner lived another school mate, Dave; he was older, in the year above so we didn’t hang around at school but we got the same buses so became mates out of school when neither of us had anyone to hang out with.
We also had a similar wanking relationship where we would read the magazines then one of us would go to the loo, pull off a wank and come back as though we had only been for a wee. Then the other of us would do the same. Then start again. Again, we didn’t talk about wanking! We didn’t say I’m going for a wank now, or that was a good wank, or did you enjoy that?
We couldn’t smoke at his house but his house was actually better when everyone was out because he shared a bedroom with his brother and there were two beds either side of the window, so we would lie on the beds reading the magazines, reading bits out loud to each other, showing each other our favourite girls and talking about girls at school. And we didn’t have far to go to the bathroom.
So although I didn’t feel the slightest bit gay (not that we used that word back then) I was actually missing the homo-erotic, on-view, naked days, wanking sessions with Eric, so I hatched a plan that next time we were at Dave’s house I would contrive to get caught naked and wanking. And I did so one day when I was already hard and sent him downstairs to check the door was locked. When he came back up I was laid on his brother’s bed, naked, hard and ready to pull off a wank. As he came into the room he was shocked. “What the fuck ….???”
I said “well we both know what we are doing and it’s not really comfortable wanking over a toilet bowl is it? This is much more comfortable.”
He paused during which time I’m actually drooping a bit now not sure if I have done the right thing or not?
Then he looked me up and down and said “you won’t tell anyone?”
“No, shit, of course not”
Then he started undressing. Now it was my turn to be shocked. As he pulled off his pants I could see his cock, and it was huge; the expression hung like a donkey came to mind. He wasn’t even semi and it looked longer than mine was hard. A mixture of awe and envy mixed in with the already erotic situation and I was soon getting hard again. Hoping that he was half watching I started wanking away, meanwhile he opened a magazine and started to read, occasionally glancing at me, and his cock started to fill up eventually becoming fully erect at 45 degrees to his body. It was huge and dare I say as a straight guy, beautiful. Then the usual warning signs as my balls screwed up, my body jerked and I could feel the cum coursing through the vein, and BANG! I shot my load and boy did it feel good. As with the first time with Eric I wasn’t ready with a tissue and my jizz shot all over me and the bedclothes.
Instead of going to clean up though, I couldn’t take my eyes off Dave’s huge cock and I had to watch as he started wanking. In fact there’s so much difference I’ll call mine a cock and his The Prick.
Now for me there was only one way to grip my cock but when The Prick is twice as long as your hand, where do you grip it,? Dave started holding it in the middle then after a while he moved his hand up the shaft so that as he stroked his fingers would drag his foreskin backwards and forwards over his bell-end which was changing colour from a raw red to purple and started to glisten with pre-cum. He was going for ages and quickening his pace and I was getting another semi whilst my cock was still sticky, covered in my jizz from my previous ejaculation. Eventually his stomach muscles started cramping and his balls visibly shrank and his bell-end exploded and started shooting cum. Like me, in the heat of the moment he wasn’t prepared with a tissue so, bizarrely, he pushed The Prick vertically so his cum shot up in the air then straight back down onto his pubes and hands, each spurt making lower and lower fountains until the last couple just bubbled out and dribbled down his hands. “Ah shit” he said.
So we cleaned up stood side by side at the sink with our cocks in the bowl (well The Prick was in the bowl, my cock was resting on the rim!) washing our now limp cocks and pubes.
When we went back to the bedroom I had to ask “Will mine be that big next year?”.
“Fuck. It’s huge, how long is it?”
I made him get something to measure with and he found his mother’s dress-making tape measure in her sewing box. Because I wanted to cop a feel of The Prick, and secretly wanted to feel some else’s hands on mine, I insisted that we measure each other, so I had his limp Prick in my hand as I fiddled about with the tape measure. It felt weird not only having some else’s cock in my hand but such a big one, The Prick, it was like handling a still live recently caught fish! He measured at nearly four and three quarters of an inch soft. His turn to measure me and it was weird but exciting having another pair of hands handling my cock, thankfully helping me fill out a bit so I measured at two and three quarter inches. How puny.
We then sat side by side and flicked through one of the girlie mags discussing which model we liked best and why and what we would like to do with them or have them do to us. Once we were both fully stiff again I reached for the tape. I let him measure me first and again it was a really nice feeling having someone holding my cock, but now handling my stiff cock, and helping the blood flow to give me a rock hard stiffy. I pushed his finger so the end of the tape pressed into my skin and I measured at four and a quarter inches. Now my turn to measure Dave’s monster, which meant getting a hold of it. As well as being much longer than mine it was also much thicker. I was enjoying the feel of it so much I started to wonder if I was turning gay or bi and forgot about measuring. “Are you gonna measure or what?” Fuck, he came out at SEVEN AND A HALF FUCKING INCHES!!
Of course we were now both horny. Dave picked up a magazine, opened at the centrefold and lay on his bed and started pulling on The Prick. I stayed on the floor in lotus position and turned open one of the magazines, but most of the time I was watching Dave wanking his monster and started to wank myself, slowly at first moving my hand up and down the shaft dragging my foreskin backwards and forwards over my bell-end. Dave put his magazine down and moved his hand further up the shaft so he was also pulling his foreskin back and forth over his huge bell end but now leaned on his side watching me. So I picked up pace increasing the drag on my bell-end as it started to lubricate itself with pre-cum. I could see Dave’s bell-end also starting to glisten and turn purple. Then I could see his stomach start to jerk and his balls shrink at the same time as my own balls screwed up and BANG! We both shot our loads together. My first couple of spurts shot towards Dave landing on and dribbling down the sheets draped over the side of the bed. Because of the angle Dave was at so he could watch me his first couple of spurts hit the bedside cabinet, much to his alarm! The rest of both our jizz then dribbled on the carpet. Wow, it was a great wank.
When we went to the sink to clean up without a word but totally without any gay-ness or embarrassment he washed my cock as I washed The Prick.
We dressed and went outside for a smoke, no one in his house smoked so we had to go behind the shed, and neither of us said a word. But as soon as we got back upstairs we just stripped off and sat naked chatting, about cocks, wanking, girls at school and so on, then as we both stiffened up we picked up a magazine each, lay on the beds and had a wank, this time without watching each other.
After this when we got together we would usually have our first wanks separately getting horny over the magazines but then we would start playing wanking games. Sometimes we would kneel or stand side by side and see who would come quickest and who’s jizz would shoot the furthest. Sometimes we would get a centrefold picture with open legs and tack it to either the bedside cabinet at his house or the wardrobe door at mine and we would kneel a couple of feet away and wank off to see who’s cum would land nearest to her pussy. Jizz-darts! Imagine that on the telly! We also played wanking hide and seek. One of us would pick a hiding place and start wanking while the other searched to see if he could find him before he came. We stopped this when I hid in his younger sister’s wardrobe and shot my load over her clothes! We also tried to think up the most outrageous place to wank thinking of what would happen if we got caught; so we did it in parent’s bedrooms, my older sister’s and his younger sister’s bedrooms, kitchens, bathrooms, dining rooms, everywhere. We found that wanking in the bathrooms made it easier to clean up so sometimes we would stand or sit at each end of the bath and aim our jizz at each other.
Then this one time I had been with a girl who had let me feel her down below. She had jeans on so I couldn’t actually feel anything but it was great anyway rubbing my hands right down between her legs. She returned the favour, not many girls did in those days, and felt me up outside my jeans. It was so good I came in my pants, I’m not sure if she knew what had happened but I was hoping not. Of course when I told Dave I embellished the story a bit so that she actually had my cock out and wanked me off.
“Oh god, what did it feel like?”
I don’t know what made me do it but we were both naked, he was lying on my bed with a three quarters semi, and I was sat on the floor and I said “Close your eyes”. He did and I wrapped my fingers round The Prick. He groaned and The Prick immediately started to stiffen in my hand. He was enjoying it but so was I, it was a while since we had done the measuring and washing. “Hmm nice” he said. So instead of leaving go I started some slow wanking strokes and he groaned again. To be honest I felt erotic as well.
I told him to think about a girl and he chose Beverly Dickinson, the head girl who was way out of both our leagues. So I kept going and started to increase the pace, my hand gripped round the center of his bulging shaft. All the while I was getting rock hard. When his bell-end started to go moist and turn purple I stood up and put both my hands on, with my other hand now at the top of the shaft dragging his foreskin back and forth over his bell-end and increased the pace wanking this monster furiously for what seemed like ages. The vein down the center of The Prick started bulging then his stomach muscles started jerking, his balls shrank and I could feel the first jerk about to explode. As much as I was enjoying it I wasn’t going to catch his cum and he didn’t seem to care. BANG! “Oh my god!” he almost screamed, and the first spurt shot further than I had seen before, shooting over his head onto my headboard with the follow-on spurts dribbling over his face, neck, chest and the last few bubbled into his belly button. “God, that was so fucking good. Is that what it was like?”
He went to clean up. Meanwhile I was now rock hard and wanting to know what it was like to be wanked off by someone else, as good as the cumming-in-my-jeans experience was. So when he came back into the room I was on the bed with my cock fully erect. “Did you enjoy that?”
“I certainly fucking did? Was it that good for you?”
Er, I admitted what had really happened but then hinted that perhaps he would return the favour. Took a while for the penny to drop. He sat on the bed and wrapped his fingers round my cock. And it did feel great having someone else’s fingers round my cock. I had my eyes closed. “Who are you thinking of?”
“Christine Browne. No wait, Miss Wilkinson” (the trainee teacher doing her year out)
“Ah yes, don’t blame you” and Dave started stroking away. As I imagined Miss Wilkinson’s delicate hands on my cock Dave started picking up pace. After a while I lifted my buttocks up and Dave took the hint and started to increase the pace wanking my cock like there was no tomorrow. It’s a great feeling when another person is wanking you off. When you do it yourself you control the speed, the strength of the grip, etc, but when someone else is doing it you can’t control that. Dave was gripping me harder than I grip myself and his speed was so fast the combination made for quite a rough wank, but it had the desired effect. I could feel my balls cramp, my stomach jerk, and my legs bucked up and BANG! Off I went. Like Dave I shot harder and further than I had before. There was jizz all over me and now two lots of jizz on the headboard, but fuck, who cares, that was great. The best ever.
After that we developed a game, for want of a better word, where one of us would lie back on the bed and read aloud one of the stories or letters from the magazine, substituting our names for the blokes in the stories, and the names of girls at school we fancied for the girls in the stories, while the other wanked us off. Naughty and very homo-erotic, but miles better than wanking on your own.
When one of us was going out with a girl and getting some action, however mild, our joint wanking activities would pause. Then one time we both got girlfriends who lasted a few months and we never resumed our wanking club, but it was great while it lasted, keeping sexual frustration at bay until we were getting girly action for real.
(Seeing as this story has been about wanking, I must write about the girl who couldn’t get enough of wanking me off, it will be a short story, we only went out for about a month, but she was wicked!)
As a postscript, I bumped into Dave when we were in our twenties and I had to ask, how big is The Prick now? He told me it was over ten and a half inches. I wanted to go into the pub toilets and have a look but he wouldn’t! I was really envious and said the girls must love it. He said that usually when they first saw it they would be delighted but then worried it would hurt, so they were usually very happy to hold it, wank him off, some would give him a blow job or try to, but very few would take it up their pussies, and the ones that did wouldn’t let him push it in all the way. He said it was frustrating and had even been to a prostitute a couple of times being so desperate to feel it come in a fanny. Years later again we met and he told me he was happily married to a girl who could not only take it up her pussy and loved it and she even took it up her arse! Too much information. Fortunately I never got to meet her, I wouldn’t have been able to look her in the eye!