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This story is true, and I was and am very fond of nearly all the people involved. I think it is a story worth telling and I had fun putting pen to paper, finally, and telling one small chapter of a very funny youth. All participants were at least 18 at the time of the events described, and all are at least 38 now! All the names, for the sake of discretion, have been changed at least slightly, and a very few of the other place names, etc. and tell tale details have been changed very slightly for the same reason. ANY of our friends who were involved in this or any of our other kooky escapades will recognise themselves and each other in these stories. I hope you all are Lit readers, and I hope you remember them with the same comically wicked grin that I’m wearing as I write them. Wasn’t that a funny time! Please feel free to e-mail me with comments, but if I get several zillion responses from other Lit members, please forgive me for not getting back to all in a timely manner… Here we go………………………

It was a big day and we all knew it. There were seven of us… SEVEN! Laughing, goofing, full of ourselves in a fun way, full of beans, full of the moment, full of the possibilities. We had all been naked with each other in various combinations over the years, but never this many together at once.

No one was crass enough to mention the inevitable, though Donny and I had worked out the arrangements as carefully as a Washington caterer, and we’d mentioned it plenty leading up to today!

All of us had sisters in the Devon Horse Show. Older sisters, younger sisters, neighbors, cousins. Our moms were all committee members of one kind or another, some casual, some VERY dedicated. All the guys could ride. Some well, some very well, some not so well. Some of us had ridden at Devon in the past.

Now, here we all were, at Donny’s pool, Donny’s heated goddam pool (of course!), at the beginning of June, school just ending, and a way of life coming to an end, as well. We were all wrapping up our senior year in high school. Summer was here, and the exciting yet frightening prospects of college were just over the next hill. We had all been accepted to good schools. How would it be? This good? This free? Better? Worse?

The seven boys-suddenly-men were from three different high schools. Donny and I were in school close by, as was our good friend Marc. Bennet (my fave) and Clark (the pest!) were from the neighboring school district, Great Valley. The other two, who we’ll call Sam and Eric just for fun, went to a private school in Westtown, Pa. These guys were just a part of a loosely knit, much larger group of friends, neighbors, cousins, and acquaintances of both sexes that Donny and I had entertained in his barn and my barn, at the pool and in the woods, at camp and in the locker room over the years.

We had arranged with everyone’s folks for us to have a little get together at the pool while they all had their big Saturday finale at The Horse Show. We had music playing and all of us were drinking screwdrivers from tall, colorful plastic ice tea glasses. We used to drink beer at poolside, but Donny’s dad came home one time and actually beat Donny in front of a few of us (the ultimate in uncool), bitching about liability, etc. What an asshole he was on that and on most other occasions. Later, Donny would inherit a little too much of that for his own good.

The air at poolside was absolutely electric as we swam and laughed and threw each other in and wrestled and generally behaved like the guys we were, all the while knowing that very soon, VERY soon, we would all be putting on some sort of show for each other in the barn, the likes of which we’d never seen on this scale. No one had to say it… we canlı bahis all KNEW it. We all knew each other, and had known each other, just in pairs and triplets, previously.

I should pause here and make sure I’ve created an accurate picture of the participants… We were straight kids. We liked girls, we talked about girls, we dated girls, most of us had a girlfriend. We jerked off to straight porn. We played rough and tumble sports (OK, a couple of us were marching band, not jocks). We treated sucking like a sport. a sport with a little edge of danger, but a sport nonetheless. We would get together for a mad suck fest just like we would get together for a pick up hockey game or an afternoon of fishing.

Donny and I also treated the handling of potential blow buddies as a sport of sorts. We figured that we were having such fun doing it, that if the right circumstances were created and we SHOWED how much fun it was, there wasn’t anyone who wouldn’t dive in… and we were right!

We also knew that we weren’t gay. We knew what gay was, and we didn’t fit any of the other aspects. We didn’t screw each other, we didn’t make out, we didn’t display any of the kinds of eye-to-eye, nose-to-nose, rub-her-body-in-an-endless-sweat-embrace passion that welled up from the soul when we made love to our girlfriends. We were totally turned off by the trappings of gay culture… the cartoony leather outfits, the nellie swish outrageousness, the devotion to Broadway musicals and to the same half dozen disco songs. That doesn’t mean that I was the kind of kid who was agressive towards gays, on the contrary, I made sure that my friends knew that slurs towards anyone based on color or sexual orientation were out.

Yet here we were… a bunch of white kids, all circumsized, all with really nice yet perfectly average sized genitalia (except Bennet) lounging at poolside, tying one on, getting ready to suck each other like vacuum cleaners.

A great deal of vodka had disappeared fairly quickly, and at one point, after Donny and I looked across the pool at each other and smiled, we suggested heading to the barn for a round of beers. Everyone knew about the scene at poolside over beer with Donny’s pop. They also knew that we didn’t NEED to go have a beer… that this was just an acceptable reason for us all to head to the barn. We were out of the pool, quick as a wink, and filing into the barn, to the room we referred to as the sweat box. Everyone of the group had been up here before, and we crowded into the room and found seats on bins and tack boxes on wheels, etc., all conveniently covered with blankets earlier in the day. Sam and Eric got a round of brews from the fridge. I got the cards.

I announced a few rounds of Hi Lo. Our version was as simple as everyone drawing from a shuffled deck, NOT looking at their card, then on the count of three holding it up and out for all to see. Whoever had the high card could then demand something of the holder of the low card. Marc was high card. Clark was low card.

“I’m not going first! I don’t know all these guys!” Clark whined in a tough boy whine that I hated the sound of. This was also a breach of suck fest etiquette. “For chissakes, Clark, I”LL be low card, you pussy!” Everyone laughed a good natured laugh while Clark burned red, but we were back on track. Marc told me to give Bennet a boner. Funny how our word choices change over the years! All were smiling huge smiles, and I knelt in front of the seated Bennet. Bennet was quite the character. Bigger than me, and I’m considered a big kid, Bennet was unstoppable on the football field, but he smiled a friendly smile the whole time. He had hair on his chest, but he wasn’t a gorilla. He always had the funniest haircut… like a buzz cut bahis siteleri that’s grown out way too much, yet none of us ever saw it any shorter or longer… it just WAS.

Bennets dick was a full seven inches, whereas all the rest of us were on either side of six. Best of all was it’s shape. The upper three quarters of it were wider than the base, so it looked like a fat Little Louisville Slugger. It wasn’t misshapen or ungainly, just different. I couldn’t wait to see it, and to have a go with it.

Bennet leaned back on his elbows, smiling, and I leaned forward with my hands on his thighs, grinning. The comments were flying… “Bennets bone!” etc. I pressed my face onto the front of his loose bathing suit and bit the front of his dick, gently, through the fabric. “I can’t do it…. I can’t give Bennet a boner.” There was a shocked silence, then Sam and Eric both said “WHY???”

“Because he already has one!”, I announced, and everyone cracked up like crazy. I pulled Bennet’s bathing suit down in the front and revealed his famous member, snapping out at full attention, and we all howled with laughter. We shuffled the cards and drew again. Donny had the high card and told Sam to take everyone’s wet bathing suits off. We stood in an uneven circle, young man dicks popping into sight, each as stiff as Bennet’s. We pulled on them, swung them back and forth, and stretched our ball sacks back into a hanging position, all the while laughing.

I drew the high card next, and seriously just wanted to say “I get to suck Bennet right now!”, but there was a little more drunken revelry to orchestrate. I had Donny and Clark get on their knees in the middle of us and suck each of us, one at a time, for a full timed minute. Clark didn’t whine this time. This is what he’d come for, and he’d gotten over his initial freak out. I wasn’t that keen on Clark, he was more Donny’s friend, but he could suck a mean willie. The weird thing was, he sucked as if the destination was more important than the ride. He spit on his hand and ran it up and down your dick while he sucked, like he was trying to win a contest. It felt great, but I was more into moseying along and enjoying it. Clark was smaller than the rest of us, and played football like he had something to prove, every time. He was also an Eagle Scout, which I think is cool, just not in his case.

Eric could still give himself head, and he was directed to do just that on the next round. All of us had been able to do it in our younger years, and we could all still get the head in our mouths (except Bennet), but Eric could give himself a proper blow. It was amazing to watch. We all had a hold on his shoulder or leg or butt, leaning in and watching and pulling on ourselves. I reached over and slid my hand over Bennet’s dick, and he reached around me and grabbed mine. All of us had such big grins that our faces hurt.

Donny put his hands on Eric’s balls and massaged, then started to rub his dick near the base of it as he sucked himself methodically. He told him that we wanted to see it when he came, and that he wanted to taste the last squirts, so save him some. This was good, because Donny and I always tried to show a sometimes hesitant crew that come was good. If you’ll eat your own come, and watch me finish it, then you’ll let yourself go a little and not stop when I come. I always thought it was so bizarre that we’ve attached a stigma to come, and we made sure that we climbed over that with all our suck buddies early on. They always seemed happy and relieved to have the pressure off and the freedom to have full on fun.

Sure enough, Eric came with a blast, with all of us pressed in tight against him, flesh to flesh, watching. Then Donny pulled his pulsing dick up and popped it bahis şirketleri into his mouth, sucked his cheeks in and made it clear he was swallowing as Eric twitched and started to uncoil his spine. It was beautiful.

Bennet pulled a high card and told me to lay on my back on the top of the biggest tack box. Then he climbed on top of me in a 69 position, dangling his baseball bat of a dick over my face. I totally cracked up, and everyone else did, too. Marc asked if he could see it when Bennet came, and Donny and Clark started to 69 next to us. Bennet lowered his dick as I strained my neck up to get a real mouthful. Then, he started to stretch his legs out to the side, slowly, and my mouth filled up and then overfilled. I was choking and laughing… I couldn’t get it out of my mouth! “Put your knees closer, you fuckin’ nut, you’re choking me!!!” Everyone screamed with drunken laughs, and Bennet and I lay on our sides. I could really get it into my mouth and throat this way, better than when it was being shoved! I lay his dick against my cheek and worked on his balls, which were manlier that mine. Even though we were all fully 18, Bennet’s balls seemed more like my father’s than mine. I stretched them, sucked them, licked them. I slipped his dick back into my mouth and squeezed his ass. He squeezed mine back, parting my cheeks with his finger tips. I did the same to him, letting my finger tips pull and stretch back and forth across his hole. He did the same to me. It felt good, really good. We didn’t have to put them inside, I was just glad that that sort of contact was OK while we sucked. It pushed us both closer and we could feel ourselves getting ready to come. We hugged tightly like wrestlers and bucked like broncos as we both came.

As I fell away, Marc was complaining that he didn’t get to see the come. I pulled him to me by his dick and put it in my mouth as I lay there, still shaking, still breathing heavily. I gave him an absolutely furious blow job, not aware that everyone was standing around watching and jerking themselves and each other as they watched. I was totally overcome with the vodka and lust, and I had completely let go. First I lay on my back with my head over the edge of the tack box, pulling his ass towards me over and over again, breathing wildly and groaning and snorting uncontrollably. Then I spun around and wrestled him onto his back and I was up on the tack box, between his legs, on all fours, absolutely sucking like a wild beast. Marc came with a terrific jolt, and then kept jerking his body as I refused to stop… and refused to stop… and refused to stop… Marc groaned staccato groans that were almost like frightened singing.

Then I heard it…………… applause! I stopped and looked up and everyone was applauding, utterly wide eyed. Donny and Clark had come already and were watching and applauding. I smiled, a little embarassed, hunched forward, still on all fours, sweating, still breathing in furious panting breaths.

I recovered and wanted to switch the focus from me and keep things rolling, so I told Sam and Eric to 69, but they said they did it all the time together at school, so Marc and Bennet stepped up to the plate. Sam and Eric lay next to each other, arms behind their heads, grinning at each other while they got great, great head. I watched Bennet and Marc really work their balls with both hands, then play with the other guy’s balls while they still sucked their targets, then switched dicks for the big finish.


Bisquits, the big Chesapeake Bay Retreiver, never barked a warning from outside, the whole time. We were safe in our little world for that moment. We all lay here and there with our arms and legs and butts and dicks and bodies intertwined in a way that, for us. was perfectly normal and perfectly sane and would, shortly, never be possible again.

There was, though, still this last summer ahead of us……………….

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