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Completely still, with his eyes closed, for about a minute, then
wiping the spunk from his stomach and hand. He began to milk the re-
maining juices from his dying cock, pulling upwards with the tip of
his forefinger pressed hard into the underside of his organ. He wiped
the gland carefully, so that the foreskin, now beginning to bunch be-
low his glans, wouldn’t stick too painfully when it had return to the
protection position. Finally he cleaned the mirror, before folding the
towel under his prick’s tip to mop up any last weeping.

Then he closed his eyes, flicked the light switch, and rolled over
on his side to sleep.

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Then again he relaxed. He reached a hand up to move the book,
placing it upright on the bed, propped against the side mirror wall of
the alcove and turned the upper part of his body so that he could
stare at it.

And his eyes thus engaged, he resumed the pumping action. A looser
grip at first, his hand sliding farther up and down the shaft, then a
tighter grip at the top, the side of his finger digging into the sen-
sitive point. He meant to complete the job this time.

His other hand was cupped to his bollocks, the forefinger digging
into the root of the shaft beneath the taut skin. Did he mean to halt
the flowing? His hips and thigh reared up once more, his toes and feet
twisting the sheet into knots beneath them. The sheen on his glans was
lost as the pores open up with the climactic blood flow. He would
come! He would come!

Too late did his ball hand clutch for the towel, for the first wad
was already airborne, flying to land above his navel. The twist of his
body sent the second jetting to a splatter on the side mirror. He was
obviously very full, for the third spasm also sent a glob into the
air, landing on his still pumping wrist. He spasm again and again, but
this time producing floods of more liquid spunk which flowed warmly
down onto the top of his hand. He spasmed a six and seventh time too,
but this time nearly dry – just a wide working of the glistening eye
of his dick. Then the pent-up breath was released.

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Relaxed – pumping not stopped, but much slowed, and the hand pres-
sure minimal. The he slipped the hand up higher, and began to caress
the point below the glans with the side of his finger. Some fluid had
formed at the eye of his shaft and he slicked it down over the point
as a lubricant.

He began to pump once more in this higher position. His sweat-
dewed face, mouth wide open in rictus of excitement; between the tun-
nel of his legs, the balls, now pulled high and close as orgasm
neared. His shaft was indeed now bending back over his belly as he
left the plateau for the summit.

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He closed the book, laid it flat on his stomach, and passed a hand
down to grasp his shaft, then he began the work of the hand on the rod
of iron. His technique was obviously practised, but unsophisticated.
Writhing; delicious: he was a toe wiggler. The thigh muscles filled –
full buns with deep side hollows and a clean division between the
curve of the bun and the straighter convexity of the under-thigh. As
the knees came up, the deep top grooves were clear, and most inviting.

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gay hardcoretwinks sex party The first stage of erection was complete, the ridge of skin below the corona disappearing into smoothness as the penis filled to its last inch. He used the towel to remove some of the stickiness from his
plum, wincing a little at the touch of the rough cloth.
Still Anton just lay there, admiring what was certainly very much
to be admired. Then he reached up for a picture book, the stiff member
wobbling in its weak rooting as his upper body arched. He brought the
picture of one beauty to the surface of the bed beside his loins. He
held the open book above his midriff for a long time, look at it, but
making no attempt to stimulate his organ. Apart from the occasionally
pulsing which is natural in an unattended erection, there was no obvious reaction in his tool.

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He transferred his forefinger to the other side of the shaft, and
hooked it below it, supporting it so that the glans, by now doubled in
size, was raised up. His thumb rubbed the upper surface of the shank,
and more fingers joined in the support. He took the hand away, to re-
assure himself of the presence of the towel, to catch the sperm and
perhaps to cover himself in case of an intrusion. When he removed his
hand, the shaft supported itself.

He switched on the bedlight, and lay admiring the growing weapon.
By now it was no mere stiffy, but a tree in full flare. He watched the
taut skin pulling slowly back across the glistening plum-surface of
his close textured glans. There was no quick flick of the fingers this
time: he was taking his time. When the skin finally caught up on the
flaring corona, the upturned rim of his glorious helmet, he pressed
down with both hands on his pubic lawn, stretching the skin on the
shaft enough to clear the rim.

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After going to bed, showered and, of course, naked, Anton had lain
awake for some time. Then he got up again and fetched the hand towel
from the wash-station. He placed this by his hips when he lay down.
His intention was obvious. He was lying on his back, with his left
hand caressing the inside of his thigh, and nuzzling up against his
balls. His forefinger began stroking the adjacent testicle. His other
hand was flat on his stomach. His penis lay where it had flopped, the
glans between the other ball and his thigh. It was clearly stirring.

The upper hand began to migrate south, stroking the sensitive skin
of the smooth area between the navel and the pubic hair. He had a
thick forest, but low down and with a clean upper line. When they
reached the root of his phallus, he parted his forefinger and second
finger, and ran this vee down to embrace the thickening shank. A few
pushes, with the fingers curving down to engage with the upper scrotum, and the glans looked distinctly heavy.

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He turned around with his engorged memeber in hand and continued
pumping on it with his hand. I watched him, his eyes closed to mere slits
in his face, and his face screwed up in an expression of what looked like
intense pain, but I knew better.
Biting down on his lip, he let out a sharp, quick groan and
released his supply of semen. It shot out in large white globs, a couple
of which hit me.
“Ahhh, that was great, Alex,” he said, breathing hard, his cock
slowly growing limp as he stood under the shower head.
“I liked it too,” I answered, scrubbing his semen off my body.
“Maybe we can do that again some time. Like at my place or yours,”
Tim suggested.
“Sure,” I answered.

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I spread the soap over my erection and then put my hands on his
waist. I lined up and shoved forward quickly, thrusting my full length
in. It caught about halfway and I had to readjust slightly before I was
completely inserted.
“Okay, fuck me. Hurry up,” Tim said.
I followed his orders, getting into a quick rhythm right away,
concerned only with getting caught. I didn’t really have time to enjoy
it, but apparently Tim was liking it a lot. He was stroking his meat for
all his worth as I pumped into him.
This high velocity thrusting was driving me to an orgasm really
quickly. I came, spurting my juices into his hot little asshole. I
removed my organ soon after and moved away from him as he continued to
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“I want you to fuck me,” he said. “Do you want to do that?”
“Sure,” I answered casually, trying to hide my growing excitement
even though it was plainly displayed between my legs.
“Have you fucked a guy before?” he asked.
“Good, then you know what to do. Don’t be gentle. I like it
quick and rough,” he told me.
“We’ve gotta be quick about it too, class ends soon, and we can’t
get caught.”
He turned around and bent over, handing me the soap. I took it
and lathered up his anus which was lightly dusted with short blond hairs.
I stuck my index finger all the way up him really quick and found it went
in easily. He had good control over those important muscles.

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I continued to stare at his cock and felt a little stirring in my
groin as I stared with complete freedom at his penis. As I watched it
gave a little jerk and grew a little longer. Immediately my cock
responded, growing to its full length. There I was, in the shower with
Tim with an erection. Just at that moment Tim chose to open his eyes and
look at me.
“Got a little excited, huh?” he asked.
I blushed and turned away from him. “Uh, yeah,” I mumbled.
Tim chuckled. “Hey, dude, it’s okay. Turn around.”
I just turned my head and saw that Tim had grasped his organ and
was running a finger over the head of his cock. It was slowly elongating.
“Let me look at ya,” he urged.
I turned around, the butterflied in my stomach beginning to circle
as my heart raced. What was going on here?
“That’s a nice one,” Tim said. “You like to look at guys pricks
in the shower, don’t ya?”
“No,” I protested vehemently.
“I do. Why do you think I’m on track? I get to see all kinds of
guys in the buff. It’s great. You should join.”
“I don’t–”
“Come here. Why are we talking all the way across the room?”
I shut off my spigot reluctantly and walked over to him. He moved
over a little bit and let me share in the water. He lathered his hands
and brought the right one over onto my shoulder. He slowly ran it down
over my chest, pinching and rolling my left nipple as he went.

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As the boys left it became quieter and quieter in the room as the
shower nozzels were turned off and the chatter from the various people was
taken out into the locker room which was just around the corner from the
showers. Soon I could hear just two shower nozzels still spraying out
water. I glanced over to Tim and saw that he was still in the shower room
with me. We were alone. As I took another glance at his crotch, I
noticed that it seemed to have gotten a little longer and thicker, but I
couldn’t be sure if that was just my imagination. He stood under the
stream of water with his face to it, eyes closed, letting the water spray
into his face.

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Tim Holzny was one of the gods of the shower room. He stood at
5’8″ and had short blond hair. It was almost white blond. He had a very
light skin tone and the blond hairs on his arms and legs barely stood out
against it. He was well built since he was on the track team. He had
very muscular legs and a well defined chest. He had a hairless chest like
mine with hair under his armpits. At his crotch there was a thick mound
of dark blond hair just at the base of his penis which was about my size,
but it seemed fuller than mine at the moment as it hung between his
thighs. I could also see blond hairs on his balls. He was definitely a
natural blond.
Slowly the guys started to exit the shower, but I took my time. I
liked to watch for as long as I could. I continued to pretend to shower,
running the soap repeatedly over my chest and arms as I watched the firm
white asses parade by as they left the room. Then my gaze would return to
the other guys in the shower and continue to watch them spread soap over
their bodies.

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As I slowly washed myself I glanced surreptitiously around at the
naked boys in the shower with me. Some of my favorites, like Tim Holzny,
I would come back to more often to watch. Teasing myself I would first
start looking at their face and then let my eyes travel down their bodies
until I found that special place they rarely revealed to the outside
world. Of course, if they happened to look over my way I would have to
immediately glance away. It was expected we would look at one another,
but intense scrutiny like mine wouldn’t be looked upon kindly. I
especially enjoyed watching the guys as they touched themselves. Sure it
was just an innocent gesture, but it still excited me.