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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.

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.

twinks 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.

Suddenly the bell rang, signalling the end of class. We rushed
out into the locker room, got dressed, and just barely made it to our next
class.
I decided I had to join the track team.

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.

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 jack off.

"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. "Yeah." "Good, then you know what to do. Don't be gentle. I like it quick and rough," he told me. "Okay." "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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

One particular afternoon after finishing up our swim, we all piled
into the showers, stripping off our swim suits once in there and washing
our private parts in the very public atmosphere of the shower room.
It was a large one room building just off the door to the swimming
pool. With only about 25 guys in the class, we could all fit in the room
with a few spigots left over which gives you an idea how large the room was.
On this particular day I was running my hands lovingly over my
19-year-old body. I had a tan which I had gotten from my trip to Florida
over Christmas break. It was lighter than it had been a few weeks ago,
but still noticeable. I had a nice, average build, standing at 5′6″ with
brown hair and blue eyes. My cock was average size; it was six inches
when erect with a thick mound of brown pubic hair at its base. My pubic
hair was just growing back now after Steve trimmed it during my Christmas vacation. I had short little
hairs on my balls. These were also just starting to grow back.