Summers were humid in my hometown of Cleveland, OH. I was showering after dinner, preparing for a party thrown by my old friend, Nick. Nick was a party animal. We were thrown together by our circumstances and remained friends throughout grade school and high school. Nick knew how to get the girls, and he constantly talked about sex. I didn't have much to talk about, I was 19 and still a virgin. I guess the girls didn't have much use for me. Maybe it was a lack of self-confidence or something. At any rate, I was going to one of Nick's parties, and the night held great promise.
I was fantasizing about what might happen, and had to release some sexual tension. I gripped Mr. Tubesteak with my left hand, and encircled his head with the other. I imagined the hot honeys that would be coming to see Nick, and meet guys. I imagined holding a young thing close to me and grinding out a slow dance, ending in a passionate embrace, and a trip to the back seat. I wanted nothing but a hard, straight meaningless fuck with someone I would never see again. I wanted a receptacle, not a relationship.
Jacking off was a great release for me. I had years of experience, and developed pretty good control of my ejaculations. My father used to warn me that excessive masturbation would cause premature ejaculation, in order to discourage me. I went right to work trying to control my ejaculations. I learned what worked, which is great, because I can enjoy a long, slow jack, or get off quick and dirty. Whatever the occasion calls for.
Mr. Tubesteak rose to the occasion, straining for all he is worth. My cock is a decent 6-1/2 " long and 6" in circumference. The thickness is what is really impressive to me. I would fantasize about getting into hot holes that would have a hard time taking it. I would have to lube up and go really slow and gentle. But after getting in, I would bang away, spoiling that hot hole for everyone else but me. I really got off thinking about tight young girls. There was one girl in particular, who was a frequent guest in my fantasies.
Susan stood just under 5' tall. She had a pre-pubescent gymnast's body, even though she was just one year behind me in high school. I used to imagine her sitting on the edge of a table while I patiently worked my tool into her tight hole. I would practically split her in half. I would pick her up and hold her tightly while she wraps her legs around my waist and rams her fuck hole down on my throbbing cock.
After bringing myself to a satisfying conclusion, I toweled off, dressed carefully, and headed out. Nick lived at home with his mom and her new husband. It was nice to see her happy again, after struggling for so many years. The party was outside in the backyard, and it was rocking.
Nick said "Hi Jay," and offered me a beer. Everyone seemed to know one another, so I kept to myself. Nick returned with a couple of girls to meet me. We exchanged pleasantries and talked for a while. They weren't exactly lunging for my cock, and I didn't quite know how to engage one without offending the other. A good song started playing, and they drifted off to dance together.
I drifted toward the keg, and hung out with Nick and a few other guys who were talking about cars. One of the guys happened to be Peter Colarocchio, a guy that I went to grade school with. He was a hard-ass bully, who delighted in humiliating me. I guess it was just his way of making friends, or something. He was an athlete, and I wasn't. He had physical beauty, and I didn't. I admired him, and I wanted to be like him in every way, except for his mean streak. He was a jerk, and he loved to abuse people who couldn't retaliate.
Anyway, he said "Hi," and remarked, "Hey Jay, ya didn't turn out too bad."
I said, "Yeah, thanks."
Like how was I supposed to respond? I wasn't the wimp from 8th grade anymore. I had been working out myself, and I liked what I saw in the mirror. I could stand next to Pete now, and not be ashamed . We were both studs, just different. I had been working out, and had a frame well adapted to it. I was shorter than Pete, 5' 7", with a 44" chest, and a 31" waist. My body was really responding to the weights, and I sported a nice v-shaped torso.
The guys at the gym playfully teased that my tits were bigger that their girlfriend's. My ass received its share of compliments too, especially when it was packed into a pair of Jordache (this was the 80s.) I stayed away from tight jeans though, because I couldn't show my cock off like other guys. Some guys just seemed to hang so well. My cock liked to hide when it wasn't being summoned to service. Maybe that's why I didn't catch the attention of the girls. Like so many things, I only wished that I had started pumping iron earlier.
Pete was tall and lean, with dark features. His muscles were cut and sharply defined from years of sports. I noticed how the muscles in his forearm rippled as he gestured. And how his neck was too thick for his shirt collar. He had large callused hands which seemed out of place on his graceful, athletic frame. They did match his bulging crotch, though. His jeans were faded and worn in spots. The denim molded to his trim ass, sculpted quads, and snugly held his basket. You could easily make out the shape of his cock head.
The set of songs was over, and one of the girls I'd talked to earlier wandered back to say "Hi." Her name was Jolene, and she had a nice smile.
"My friend and I are here to blow off some steam after finals, how about you?" I shared how Nick and I had grown up together, and how we stuck together even though we're so different.
"Nick's a sex hound, isn't he?" she said.
"Yeah, that's the part of him I wish I was more like," I said.
"You're a good looking guy, she replied, you could probably have anyone you wanted."
"I don't want anyone, just someone pretty and smart, like you, Jolene."
She blushed. She was so sweet, and she had that gymnast body that I loved. She was wearing a leotard with tight jeans. She was lean and tight.
"That's really sweet, she said, is there anywhere we can be alone?"
Jolene said good-bye to her friend and we headed out for a drive. We parked at the end of a dead end street down by Lake Erie, and walked down to a secluded beach. Her short hair glistened in the moonlight. We walked and talked about our hopes and our dreams. Jolene was studying to be a nurse, and she hoped to work in maternity. I told her that she was kind and compassionate, and that she would make a great caregiver.
The night air by the lake was getting chilly, and Jolene was not dressed for the weather. I hugged her to warm her, and felt the goose pimples up and down her arms.
"Oooohh, you're giving me chills," she said.
"Let me warm you up." I gently kissed her trembling lips, and hugged her in a warm embrace. Her hands roamed around my chest and abs as she tried to warm them.
"Mmmmm, if you want to warm your hands, pull my shirt up," I offered. She pulled my shirt out of my pants, and put her cold hands up my shirt. She caressed my chest, and my nipples hardened from the cold.
"Whew! You need to be warmed up!" I exclaimed.
"Hold me tighter," she said breathlessly.
"You know, the sand is still warm," I mentioned.
We slid to the ground in one long passionate kiss. My tongue explored her mouth, and I kissed her neck as she massaged my pecs and abs and shoulders underneath my shirt. The warm sand was a welcome change from the cold night air.
"Jolene, I want to heat you up all over," I said as I pressed my full weight against her.
With the warm sand below, and my hot body on top, Jolene relaxed and became more passionate in her kissing. She raised my shirt and kissed my chest, sucking my nipples. I was becoming extremely aroused as my cock began to throb. I pushed my throbbing cock into her groin, and pulled my shirt off. She came up to meet my lips in another long passionate embrace.
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