Boys Will Be Boys

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During my schooldays, I used to knock about with a friend quite often who had not been one of our local gang when we were all growing up. He always seemed a bit of a loner to me. I had knocked about with him for about two years or so off and on. He was within two weeks of my age, but we had gone our separate ways when we had finally left school, and I didn’t see much of him for a couple of years.It was normal for us back then to meet up either at his house or mine where we would do standard boys’ stuff – magazines, out for bike rides, etc. We were both into construction kits and so spent a fair bit of time together with our shared hobby, more often than not in his bedroom as he had his own room whereas I had to share mine with my brother.The only slightly unusual thing about our friendship was that he had liked me to spend time scratching his back whenever we were alone together. Not just the little patch between his shoulder blades that he couldn’t reach (we all have that problem), but his whole back. I never understood why this was but obliged without question, always through his shirt and to start with; there were no sexual feelings on my part. I never instigated these sessions but waited until he asked.It was after I had been doing the back-scratching sessions over a period izmir rus escort bayan of a year or two that I began to find that they had started to make me feel a bit horny, and often gave me a full erection, although at the time I managed to keep away from him a bit so that he wouldn’t notice. I got into the habit of masturbating when I got back home and in the privacy of my own bedroom while fantasizing about having sex with him. I sometimes even imagined him standing in front of me wearing a pair of panties. I hadn’t given a thought to the fact that he may have had similar thoughts as well and could have also been masturbating after I had gone home. He was quite a ‘girly’ sort of a boy with glorious curly brown hair and a fairly feminine-looking body. My mother used to say that if he was a girl, he would be pretty.One Saturday afternoon I bumped into him outside his house and he invited me in. We were both now nineteen years old. His parents, he told me, were both out visiting friends. His older sister no longer lived at home as she had left to move in with her boyfriend. We were alone in his house and he invited me up to his bedroom. We ended up sitting on the edge of his bed looking at a couple of porn magazines that he said he escort izmir otele gelen had stolen from his father, and inevitably I began to feel horny.It took me a lot of courage, but somehow I managed to steer the conversation around to the subject of masturbation. He confessed that like me, he did masturbate quite frequently, as like me, he had no other sexual outlet. I told him about my attraction to panties and he told me that he often masturbated while looking out of his bedroom window at his neighbour’s panties on her washing line. By this time I was sporting a hard-on, and a glance down at his jeans told me that he was in the same state.“Have you got any of your own?” I asked him.He seemed a little nervous at that.“Can you just scratch my back for a bit?” he replied after a short pause. “For old time’s sake.”“OK, if you say so.” I was a bit disappointed.Somehow, and to this day I can’t think how it happened, he ended up kneeling on the floor, bent forward over his bed, with me kneeling behind him and my crotch pressing against his bum outside our clothing. I pushed up his shirt to expose his back and began to very lightly scratch it. The inevitable happened and I began to get hard.He said, “Your dick’s hard. I can feel it buca escort pressing on me.”“I can’t help it, it happens a lot,” I replied. “Does it happen to you too?”“It does, and I’m hard now, but I thought it was just me,” he admitted. “Actually I always get hard and I get the urge to toss myself off when you’re scratching me. I usually do straight after you have gone home.”He then began to massage my stiffness by gently moving his bum backwards and forwards as he pressed a little harder against my erection.I don’t remember either of us saying a word as I moved away from him slightly, undid his belt, slid his jeans and underpants down and began to lightly rub his back instead of scratching it. Then I extended the strokes down to his buttocks and backs of his thighs. I pushed my jeans and underpants down and rested my hard penis between his buttocks. Still, neither of us spoke a word. We were both breathing quite heavily. I began to rub my erection up and down between his bum cheeks, while continuing to rub his back. Everything seemed so natural.He broke the silence by saying, “Are you going to cum and make a mess?”“I think I am! I’m nearly there!” I replied slightly breathlessly.“You’d better stay still for a bit,” he suggested. “I don’t want you to cum on me and get your stuff everywhere.”I stopped moving and then I put my hand around the front and found his erection, which was rock hard and felt bigger than mine. It was sticky at the end. I began to masturbate him with long, steady strokes until he said, “We had better stop or else you will make me cum and I don’t want it on my bed covers.”

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