Kenny was exactly one month and two days older than me - his birthday was in July, mine was August. He looked a little bit like me in some ways - we had similar-colored hair and eyes, although his hair was a darker shade of brown. He was about 1.5 inches taller, weighed more at 149 pounds compared to my 134, and he was more muscular as well. He was definitely stronger than me. I went out for the wrestling team in 7th grade and didn't make the cut for my weight class; he went out the following year and made his class, which was more competitive.

Our appearances were different in some respects, though. I liked to wear my hair long - long as the military school would allow (which was actually rather long during that anti-Vietnam era). Kenny always had a crew cut, till our senior year when he let it grow out. His face was different - I remember it as sort of squarish, and his eyes were bigger. He had a few crooked teeth (I was blessed with nice even teeth). His butt was flat, whereas I had a classic bubble-butt (still true today.)

Most relevant to this account: Although he was slightly bigger than me, his hands were noticeably bigger than mine - and so was his penis, and his scrotum and his testicles. I don't know if that old clich‚ is true in general, but it was true in Kenny's case... at least in terms of big hands corresponding to big genitals. (I think his feet were average, however.)

I would describe Kenny's cock as huge - not just huge for his age, or his size, but HUGE. His dick was/is the biggest I've ever seen in person, both soft and hard. It looked like some of the guys I've seen since then in porno shots, although maybe that's my memory exaggerating things. I am absolutely lousy at judging sizes of anything, and we never measured; but I've been 5.75 inches since age 13 or so, and I would guess he was about two inches longer than me - i.e., around 7.5 to 8 inches. It was proportionally thick, too. My recollection is that it was the length and thickness of a two-"D"-battery flashlight (and that's not a randomly-chosen comparison, as you'll see if you read the narrative about our experience with anal sex). I have never been much concerned about size, either way, so his size was more of a novelty than a direct turn-on. It did make a few things more fun, and a few things more challenging.

I had known Kenny casually for about two years, from 8th grade on, when he transferred in. In a school of only 500-plus kids, you get to know everybody to some degree. He was in some of my classes in previous years; but because his last name was not near mine alphabetically, we never ended up sitting near each other. I first got to know him well in 10th grade. We didn't have any classes together that year (and probably just as well; as our relationship progressed, it would've been distracting to have each other nearby.) Our common ground was the soccer field.

We were similar in overall athletic abilities (good skills, great heart), but his interests were different. Kenny was a good wrestler (and some of our sex- play reflected that interest, as we'll see). I enjoyed wrestling, but I didn't have the natural muscular strength to be really good at it - not after puberty, at any rate. He liked football, and was reasonably good at it until around age 14 when the other players grew larger and he didn't. He also liked (but didn't play competitively) tennis, a sport I enjoy but which I am decidedly not naturally skilled at. On the other hand, I swam like a fish, and loved every second of it, but Kenny didn't much care for that - not even for "let's-splash-around-in-the-pool".

Kenny lived in a different part of town, and rode a different bus. Neither of us was the extra-curricular-activity type (not the type the school sanctioned, at any rate.) And, whereas I was rebellious and a constant minor discipline problem, Kenny generally behaved in school. So, until 10th grade, where this story really begins, I don't recall our paths crossing that much.

At my school, we had two locker rooms: large and small. They were in separate wings of the gym. The school's philosophy was to keep team members together as much as possible, so each locker room was dedicated to specific teams. The small locker room was for the medium-to-small sports, which for us were golf, tennis, swimming, soccer, Ultimate Frisbee (for the stoners ), and a couple of others I've forgotten. The big locker room was, naturally, for the Big Three - football, basketball, and baseball - as well as wrestling, and track/cross- country. (Wrestling and running were sports in which our school had longtime winning traditions.)

As a swimmer in 7th-11th grades and a soccer player in 10th, I was always assigned a locker in the smaller room. Kenny played football in 8th and 9th grade and and wrestled 8th through 12th, so he was never in the locker room with me. That changed, though, when Kenny decided that soccer was a good sport for a too-small ex-football player.

At the organizational meeting in the weeks before school started, the soccer coach scheduled tryouts for new players. There were five kids who were new to the team: me, Kenny, a kid named Doug who was also on the swim team with me, and two others who aren't important to this narrative. (I'm resisting the temptation to turn this into a sports-memoir.) The tryouts were scheduled for the following afternoon.

Tryouts were no problem for me. I had played youth-league soccer every summer from ages 7 through 13, and in fact the school coach had asked several times when I was going to try out. I actually had wanted to play soccer for the school in previous years, but the coach had a pretty rigid style and I thought I would develop an attitude problem under him. (And I was right - we didn't see eye-to-eye. Tenth grade was my one and only year playing soccer for our school. It was good soccer but it wasn't much fun.) So I just enjoyed the tryouts and wondered what the final team roster would look like.

After an hour of scrimmage and a time-limited game, we took a break while the coach and assistant coach huddled, then they announced the results. All five of us new boys made the team. In fact, the new roster that season included everybody who came out, old and new. (The pool of talent who wanted to play soccer was never very deep, back then... "soccer was a game for pussies", according to school tradition.)

After tryouts and a bunch of other preliminaries, the coach sent the team into the gym to get towels and all that stuff. The five of us were sent to the "cage" first, to get our locker assignments (everyone else had gotten theirs the day before... one of the pains of being a newcomer was getting the last- choice lockers... although as it happened, it was lucky for us ) When the five of us headed inside, I happened to be next to Kenny. Being the sociable type, I struck up a conversation with him. I don't remember what it was about, nothing important certainly. But it was the first time I'd ever had an extended conversation with him. I liked him from that moment on. I'm usually quick to decide about people, and in any case I like most people I meet, so that was typical. But even so, he seemed special, somehow. We had the same sense of humor, and it was just good vibes between us.

One other point about tryouts: Nobody wore their uniforms, of course. And back then, soccer clothes weren't trendy - but tight cut-off Levis were. Kenny wore a pair of tight Levis cutoffs to tryouts. It was impossible not to notice the very large bulge extending down his right thigh. Size wasn't a big deal to me, as I said, but Kenny's was big enough to be noticed by anybody. I admit that this was also on my mind when I was talking with Kenny. (Let me stress that I would have been just as happy to make a new friend with no sexual aspects. Believe it or not, I enjoyed doing lots of stuff with other boys that didn't involve our dicks.

We got up to the cage and got our locker assignment. Kenny ended up with a locker in the row with mine. I figured we would end up with the same row, as well as the other three newcomers, because it was the least-desirable row in the room - it was closest to the outside door, and therefore was coldest in winter and warmest in hot weather. It was also farthest from the inner doors that led to the other parts of the gym, and farthest from the showers and the toilet facilities. Which meant we had to walk past all those other boys changing. That locker location never bothered me in the least.

After getting our locker numbers and lock combinations, we went to the supply room, got our towels, the Nautilus room schedules, paperwork and permission slips and stuff for parents to fill out, and all that bureaucratic BS. We still had one task left to do - coach told us that we should check our lockers before we left, to make sure the lock mechanisms worked, the lockers weren't trashed, etc. So the five of us headed down the hall. I stayed with Kenny, still talking. I was able to tell he liked me, too. Good vibes...

Our lockers all checked out fine. Kenny was four lockers away from me, with one other guy from soccer between us. I liked that, too.

At that point we were done for the day, so it was time to go out to the parking lot and wait on our parents or whoever to pick us up. Kenny and I were still talking as I moved toward the door. But Kenny angled the other way, back into the gym. I wanted to stay with him, so I switched direction too. We walked back toward the interior door, but then I realized Kenny wasn't going there. He was going straight over to the urinals.

I didn't feel the need to pee, myself. But that never stopped me from keeping a friend company. And it never hurts to fully empty the old bladder after all. So I went with Kenny to pee, along with another of the new guys.

The gym urinals were strictly old-style, World War II-era models - tall, white porcelain things. Hard to describe, but I'm sure you know what I mean. No partitions or anything to screen the user's weenie from his neighbors. I never liked those urinals much because they always seemed to need cleaning. But there were advantages, such as in this case

Kenny got there first and occupied the closest end unit. I got there next and took the urinal right next to him; and the other guy was next to me. Adult men have this "urinal etiquette" (for lack of a better term), which dictates that you stand away from each other, face forward, and there's no talking - and God forbid you should actually turn and look in your neighbor's direction, lest he think you're checking him out. Boys didn't care about any of that ritual b.s., fortunately. So we three stood there, unzipped our shorts and hauled out our dicks, and started whizzing, talking the whole time.

Did we check each other out? Damn right. Of course we all checked each other out. Nearly all boys did that - straight or not. Another charming thing about boys. Adults who do it run the risk of getting beat up.

Well, I checked Kenny out, and I nearly choked. I've already described his size, so you know why. Kenny was a very well-hung 15 year-old boy. Even though it was obviously big in his shorts, seeing it was still a revelation. I had to peek a few times. I was trying to be discreet, but once glance wasn't enough.

Later on, after we had become sex partners, Kenny told me that I was about as subtle as a goddamn neon sign, blinking "I Like Your Cock". I asked Kenny what he thought when he saw mine. He said, "My first thought was 'Gee, that's a little one', and my second thought was, 'Well, he's a little guy, so it fits.'" I loved that guy.

As I said, his size wasn't a direct turn-on. It was the novelty factor that made me stare. But I knew I was getting interested in Kenny, because I had a small stirring in my dick, and I usually didn't have that problem in the locker room or at urinals. I guess that was my first direct physical clue that I was getting hot for him. Fortunately, this wasn't a long process, and we finished and zipped up and got out of there before my swelling got to boner status.

I don't even remember what the other kid's cock looked like, although I checked him out, too. That's how mesmerizing this was.

That was it for the day. We went out to the parking lot and joined the other two new kids. My mom was (as always) late to pick me up, so I got to hang around and talk to Kenny and the other new guys for a little while, before their parents came. Nothing special, conversationally. But I left with a vivid memory to j/o to, that night. And, not to dwell on the sex completely - I had a good feeling about Kenny as a friend. He later told me he liked me immediately, too.

Practice began the next Tuesday, the week before school started. It was a long weekend, because I was bored stiff with my job by this time of the summer. I was working part-time on a landscaping crew (my second "real job" ever, up to that point, not counting lawn-mowing and stuff). I worked there again the following summer, too. I don't know why I stuck it out for two summers - my neighbor hired me, so it was easy, no job search required; it was outdoors; and I liked the fact it kept me in shape. But it was really dirty and hot, and boooooooring. Anyway, that weekend I kept thinking of Kenny - not constantly, but he kept appearing in my head, off and on. Some of my thoughts centered around getting his cut-offs and underwear pulled down and seeing that big dick again, up close and personal. I usually tried to turn my thoughts elsewhere when they got too sexual at that job, though, because erections were pretty noticeable (those tight 70's cut-offs again) and the guys on the crew were relentless in ranking on anyone caught with a boner.

Tuesday came and practice started. I was late to practice, again courtesy of my mom, so there wasn't much time beforehand for socializing. I threw my gym bag in my locker (since school hadn't started, most kids came in their practice clothes and only changed afterwards), and went straight to the field. I saw Kenny and he smiled at me. Of course I made it a point to walk over and say Hi and talk to him (as well as my other friends). Good vibes, still.

Once practice started, I poured my energies into the drills and didn't give much though to Kenny, or sex, or anything else. I took soccer seriously. And in any case, at the beginning of the season you have to work hard to get the team to come together, especially the new guys. So practice went by fast and enjoyably.

Practice ended, and we went in to shower and change. (I think it's a national tragedy that boys nowadays don't shower after phys.ed. and team practice, like they did in my day... World's going to hell in a handbasket - eh, sonny? ) Again I made sure I was next to Kenny walking in. I was glad that he hung back until I caught up. He wanted to talk to me, too. I liked making new friends, sexually or not.

We got to our lockers and got them open, and started to strip. The other guy next to me was between my locker and Kenny's. I was talking to him, but I was also talking to Kenny, drawing both of them into the conversation. The other kid got naked, wrapped his towel around himself, and went to the shower, leaving Kenny and me together along with another boy from the team down at the far end. (I'm tempted to describe all these other boys, but this is already long enough as it is. Some of them were damn cute, though. As an aside, I never had sex with anyone else on the soccer team, although I think they were a pretty approachable group in general.)

Kenny was stripped to his underwear by this point, and I was almost down to mine. He was wearing white briefs. I wore boxers usually, but for soccer I wore briefs; so we were twins in a sense.

In case anyone hasn't read my other stories, boys in underwear are one of my fascinations. This was getting difficult. I knew I was going to get a boner when I saw Kenny in his briefs, much less naked. As I said, luckily I usually didn't have a problem with spontaneous hard-ons in the locker room; but this was after the weekend of daydreaming about getting Kenny naked... I knew it, but not much I could do about it except play it by ear. I kept talking to Kenny about practice - partly just because I was enjoying the conversation, but partly because I was getting aroused at this point and I was trying to distract myself.

As we talked, Kenny, facing me, pulled his underwear down to his thighs, then sat down on the bench to pull them off. I remember that sequence clearly. I caught only a quick look at his penis and testicles before he sat down with his profile to me, but it was enough. It was PLENTY.

I delayed pulling my underwear off, still talking with Kenny but turning to face my locker and pretending to look for something. I could feel myself swelling. Fortunately, Kenny at that moment got up, grabbed his towel, wrapped up (we were all kind of modest about walking back and forth between lockers and shower), and left me alone with this other kid. That kid, a guy named Pem, wasn't a particular friend nor particularly sexy to me, so I started chatting with him while still rummaging in my locker. That worked, and my swelling subsdided, fortunately.

(Later, I asked Kenny if he had noticed me getting aroused that first day. He said, "I noticed the shape of your dick in your underwear, because I was watching for it. But I didn't think about it getting hard. I just thought you had the kind of dick that naturally stuck out a little.")

Time to shower, so I finished stripping, got wrapped, and went toward the steam and the laughing voices. We had gang showers, the same as all boys' gyms (I think...), with showerheads lined up along the walls. I did not make a point to go near Kenny this time. In fact, I grabbed the spot nearest the doorway and got soaped and rinsed off as quickly as I could. My thought was to get back in time to start dressing before Kenny showed up - but not so quickly that I had to leave first. My goal wasn't so much to see him naked again, but to talk and get to know each other further. I hoped he wasn't into 20-minute showers.

He wasn't. He got back after I had dried my body off and had my briefs and socks on, and was drying my hair. Some other guys drifted in from the showers, and we all talked as we finished dressing. We went out to the parking lot. There were 13 kids on the team at this point (I told you depth was a problem ), and most boys sat on a low brick retaining wall to wait for our rides. I stood so I could talk to a bunch of others, including, of course, Kenny.

Rides came and went, and the crowd dwindled... then, Kenny's mom showed up. He jumped down off the wall, and said directly to me as he passed, "See ya tomorrow, Danny!" Good, good vibes.

More j/o fantasies that night, naturally. But I also had an idea. I wanted to get close to Kenny, and I had some friend-making techniques. I decided I'd ask Kenny if he wanted to engage in one of my other interests besides soccer. (No, not fellatio! Pinball! ) I thought we could have fun and get closer.

Next day, another practice. I won't be boring and repeat all the details this time, except to mention that I had better control of my hard-on that day... mainly because the intensity of practice was picking up. In fact, by virtue of harder workouts, the passage of time, or both, I didn't get aroused by seeing Kenny (or anyone) in the locker room after that first day.

On the way back to the gym when practice ended, I asked Kenny if he liked pinball. Yeah, he did. Yessss!!!

I said "Cool - want to play this evening? Maybe your mom can drive you over to my house and we can go to the arcade?" (The arcade was an easy bike ride, about 10 blocks away.) He said, "Okay... Hey, I have a better idea. Want to spend the night at my house, and we can play pinball at the 7-Eleven down the street from me?"

I could say this was a welcome development, but that would be the understatement of the year. His suggestion gave me a BIG buzz. I remember my exact thought: "Man, this is gonna be FANTASTIC!" All 7-Eleven pinball machines sucked. But so what? I wanted to suck at more than just pinball.

Now before I get everybody on the edge of your seats, let me say up front that I didn't sleep over that night after all. His mom said "not tonight, maybe later." I did spend the night that weekend, though.

Maybe I should cut to the chase, huh? I thought so.

Okay, so practice went on the next day, Thursday. Kenny had talked to his mom, and that Friday night was okay. Spend the night, 7-Eleven pinball, all okay. It was okay with my mom too. (Most things that got me out of the house were okay with her.) So, that Friday, in addition to my gym bag, I had a second bag with my toothbrush and stuff. I had something else in there too. Namely, a Penthouse magazine. I had plans, you see.

Some of you may have spent your youth beating off to Penthouse more often than I did, but I doubt it. Whenever I hit a dry spell and wasn't having boy-sex, or (less often) girl-sex, I was spending a few evenings a week in the bathroom or bedroom with Penthouse and a hard-on. The pics were sometimes pretty stimulating. But to me, the really great thing about Penthouse was the letters section. There were some hot stories in there, including some with definitely underage participants. I still vividly remember one from a mom, discussing in great detail her 12-year-old son who was busy fucking his six girlfriends, and asking if that was "normal". Penthouse letters were phony as hell, but so what?

Kenny's mom picked us up and we got to Kenny's house. His house was smaller than mine. His parents were divorced and he lived with his mom and one older sister, a high-school senior who was never around - and she wasn't that night (in fact, it was over a month before I met her.) We had dinner. Went to the 7- Eleven, played some lousy pinball, ate candy and sucked on Slurpees. During the course of things, I let slip the fact that I had brought the Penthouse. Kenny, without taking his eyes off the machine, grinned and said "Dy-no-MITE!" (Flashback to the 70's anyone? For those who don't know, that's equivalent to "cool". It's a long story )

That broke the ice, and led to several brief-but-naughty 15 y/o boy- conversations about sex. All with girls, of course. Kenny told me about screwing his "ex-girlfriend", who turned out to be entirely mythical; Kenny was in fact a virgin, as far girls were concerned. (He was not a boy-virgin, although that didn't come out till later.) I told him about screwing my ex- girlfriend - my story was basically true, although heavily exaggerated. I kept glancing at his shorts to see if there was anything stirring, but he was wearing loose shorts and it was hard to tell.

We went back to Kenny's house, ate some more, watched a little TV. Eventually (after she very nicely made some popcorn for us), it was bedtime for his mom. We stayed up and watched a monster flick. I had no idea what it was called, or what happened plot-wise; because for the entire time after his mom went to bed and we were alone, I was basically consumed with lust. Finally, after a million years, the movie ended. And it was bedtime for Kenny and Danny.

The plan was that we were going to sleep in the living room on the floor, with blankets and stuff, since Kenny had only a single bed and therefore "didn't have enough room" for me. (Later in the year, we found that it was quite roomy for two boys who didn't mind a little closeness.)

After brushing our teeth upstairs, we went down to lay the blankets out and get ready for bed. My habit at that point in my life was to sleep in my underwear and a tank top. Kenny slept in pajamas, with his briefs underneath. He had brought his PJ's down with him. So we were both there in the living room by ourselves, ready to take off our clothes. I still had an erection, needless to say. It wasn't too obvious since the lights were dim and since I'm small. But I wasn't quite bold enough to show it off yet. I still didn't have a good sense of how Kenny might react, and I didn't want to ruin things by pushing.

So, I reached inside my bag and pulled my boxers and tank top out, and the Penthouse along with them. No accident whatsover. I held it up and said, "Here it is... wanna look?" Kenny grinned and grabbed it away from me, and after a little mock-wrestling for it, we sat down next to each other and started leafing through the pictures.

Neither of us had taken any of our clothes off yet. But within seconds it was obvious we were both stiff. With Kenny there was no mistaking it; even in loose shorts, there was a tent. Mine was smaller, of course, but I deliberately sat cross-legged so it would show. I had done this before.

We looked through the pics, commenting, for about five minutes. That was 4.5 minutes longer than was necessary... because, within 30 seconds, he was looking at the protrusion in my lap as much as the magazine. This was also familiar ground. I knew that we were gonna do something. But I didn't want to move too fast. So, we looked at the pictures, and he looked at my lap, and I looked at his. The house was totally quiet. We were alone.

Time to move. I pointed at one woman and said, "I like that one... I beat off all the time looking at her." Kenny didn't say anything. But he was breathing a little hard, so I knew it was cool. Without looking at him, I said, "Wanna do it?"

He still didn't answer. I said, "Come on, I'll go first, okay?" And without waiting for him to answer, I stood up partway and pulled my shorts down, and then my boxers. I didn't try to hide anything. He looked up from the magazine at my erection. Stared, in fact. I knew it was cool, now. It was going to be a good evening.

I'll skip a few details - I don't know if everyone wants to hear about saliva as lube. I sat back down facing him, grasped my boner, and started jerking off, looking down at the magazine and then right at him. He was looking at me and his expression was glazed. I knew that look, and that I'd have to help him a little; so I said, quietly, "It's great, man... it's great... try it, okay? I know you want to." And I reached over with my other hand and touched his stiff dick through his shorts, right on the underneath side where it's most sensitive, then slid the back of my finger down its length, lightly.

I wasn't usually so bold this quickly with a boy. But Kenny was more than ready. I could tell. My only concern was that just my touch might make him come on the spot. But I didn't linger. There's an art to knowing how long to do that, and I had learned through trial and error what worked, usually. And in any event, one orgasm didn't have to end the whole night. That touch sure as hell got me a step or two closer, though.

Kenny sucked in his breath sharply, and at first I thought he was coming; but he shivered and then relaxed a little. This was always a crucial moment. Time for the direct approach - now. I quietly said, "Pull your shorts down." And he did. He didn't stand up, like I did; instead he laid back flat and wiggled them down over his hips and kicked them off. His briefs were still on, so without pausing he wiggled them down, too.

As soon as he got his shorts down, the head of his penis was visible, sticking up out of his briefs. I love that sight. My eyes were glued to him as he finished stripping. When he pulled his briefs down, and I saw his gigantic stiff cock and his balls, I nearly came. I had to consciously back off to avoid it, quit stroking completely, and it was a close thing even so.

He sat up facing me with his dick already in his hand. He got it wet (skipping the saliva part here, too). He looked right at me. And then - I think this is the exact moment I fell in love with the guy - he said, "Race you!!"

Hell, we started laughing so hard, we both had to stifle ourselves with the pillows.

We got serious soon enough, though. And... well... within 20 seconds or so, I won the race, barely. I cupped my hand and caught most of my ejaculation - just a little escaped. Kenny started shooting before I finished. He just let his shoot, aiming to one side a little. (Okay with me - it was his carpet.)

Nobody wants the aftermath details, do you? They're always hazy in my mind, anyway... After we finished, I remember Kenny stamping his sperm into the carpet (okay, I know, sorta gross; but we're 15 y/o, cut us some slack....) I washed mine off in the kitchen. I put on my tank top and boxers, and he got his briefs and pajamas on, and we turned out the light and lay down next to each other.

We lay there in the dark for a minute, not talking, still breathing kind of hard. Then I turned to face him, reached out and touched him very lightly on the shoulder, and said "I liked that." I didn't think he would answer for a little while. But then he said, "Yeah..." [pause] "... me, too."

I paused. "Want to do it again?" [pause] "Sometime?"

Long pause. Then he said, "Yeah." I thought he was done. And then he added, "But I don't know if I can do it again without resting a little."

I thought, Holy shit! He wants to go again, tonight! All right!

I said, "Okay. Maybe a little later." He didn't answer that time. And within a few minutes his breathing evened out, and I realized he was asleep.

Not a problem. Sleep is curable. And we have all night.

I was sleepy too. I didn't want to miss a second chance to j/o, and I was hoping we could go farther, so I didn't want to sleep the night through. But, I thought, I have the advantage - I'm in a strange place, and I know I'll wake up a bunch of times throughout the night anyway. And with that thought, I fell asleep too.

As it happened, I didn't need to worry about waking up myself. I don't know how long I'd been asleep, when the back door to the house banged open and woke me up fast. I heard somebody clomping around the kitchen. I was still facing Kenny and I saw he was awake, too. I whispered, "What the fuck is that?" I was envisioning a burglar. He whispered, "It's my sister... don't worry, she'll just go upstairs." And after a few minutes, she did. Some banging around up there, too, water running and stuff, and then the house settled into quiet again.

We were wide awake, now. And I didn't know about Kenny, but I was stiff again. I did have to pee, but it was more than that. I whispered, "I'm gonna go take a whiz." He whispered back, "Me, too... I'll go with you." We got up, and quietly went upstairs to the bathroom. We went to the toilet and got our cocks out. I was still mostly hard, but Kenny wasn't. So he got his stream started, but I was stuck on hold for the time being.

I needed to pee. But I needed to have sex with Kenny and I didn't want to lose the opportunity. So, sacrificing any chance to go soft myself, I reached over and put my fingers around his cock, where it was sticking out of his PJs.

He flinched (and managed to get the wall wet); but then he relaxed. He made no effort at all to move my hand. My dick got fully stiff, within a second or two. And then Kenny reached over and put his hand around my dick.

In hindsight, I guess I'd say this was the moment when I realized we weren't just two boys experimenting. This was different from most of the boys I'd fooled around with. They almost never took the initiative - not the first night, for sure. This was alot more like Alex, my best friend and first boy- sex partner at 10 y/o. Two boys who wanted more than just their own orgasms - we wanted each other, exactly as we were.

This was a major, major thrill. I got an immediate, gigantic buzz. Not just from the physical stuff, but from knowing Kenny wanted ME, and vice- versa.

We were in a horribly risky position. We were standing there, in the house's only bathroom, the door open, with his mom and his sister (who for all we knew was still awake) a few feet away. And we were holding each other's cocks, both as stiff as iron.

Kenny whispered, "Downstairs." I nodded. We let go of each other and tiptoed out the door and down the stairs. I still hadn't pissed, but it wasn't that pressing; and I wasn't about to break the spell.

We got down there and stood on our blankets, and pulled our underwear down (in Kenny's case, pajama pants and underwear). Nobody was talking. Just breathing. We didn't need to talk. There wasn't any question by now about what we were going to do.

Kenny lay down on his back, and I turned around and got over him. His dick was huge and stiff, barely visible in the faint illumination from the hall nightlight. I gently took it in my fingers, then lowered my head and took it into my mouth. I lowered my hips, and felt his fingers grasping my boner, and then a second later I felt his hot mouth on my dick.

We stayed in this position for several minutes, no more than five, although I can't say exactly how long it took. Toward the end, Kenny started thrusting his hips, and I got a little gagged and had to quit sucking till I got my equilibrium back. The interruption must not have been too long for him, because this time Kenny won the race. As soon as I started sucking again, I felt his dick swell up and his balls contract, and then he started coming in my mouth.

I started swallowing immediately - I am not a swallower usually, but I always swallowed the first time with a boy. It seemed like the polite thing to do, or something. Luckily, since it was his second orgasm of the evening, there was a manageable amount to deal with.

It was like earlier in the evening, only reverse order, in that I started ejaculating before he had finished. He started swallowing right away, too. Kenny didn't make much noise with his own orgasm, but he was a noisy swallower. I'm the opposite - silent swallows, but I moan and make noise and wiggle and thrash. So all the noise was happening during my ejaculation.

This is one of the very, very few times I've gone so deep, so fast, so thoroughly, with another boy the very first time we were together. I can count them on one hand. It is so very, very high.

After we finished, we really were spent for the night. I guess technically we could've done it some more, but these were two very intense episodes of boy-sex in a row. I remember getting up and collapsing on my side, and nearly falling asleep on the spot before I realized that I'd better put my underwear back on or there would be some explaining to do the next morning. I don't remember how or when Kenny got his PJ's back on, but he did.

I do remember - vividly - what happened right before falling asleep this time, though. We were back in the same sleep positions as before - he on his back and me on my side, facing him - and I said, as I had before, "I liked that." Without pausing, I went on: "That was the greatest fucking orgasm I've ever had." (Maybe literally true, maybe not, but it was incomparable.) And Kenny said, immediately, without pausing: "I want you to spend the night forever."