Lock the Door

1.

“Tell me when you want to come”, Paul said breathlessly as we both intently
watched him working on the rim of my erection. He had formed his thumb and
forefinger into a loose circle which he was steadily moving up and down just
over the swollen rim of my cock-head, His fingers gliding in the thick film
of cream which his intense teasing was milking from my hardon; his other
hand was engaged in lightly tickling my balls. It was a hot afternoon in the
small woods behind my house, and my ballsack was hanging low and full.

Paul had been doing me for almost three-quarters of an hour, and my cock was
swollen intensely, rock-hard, darkened to an angry reddish purple from the
pressure of the blood swelling it. My balls were aching from the pressure of
the semen building in them. Over the last several months since we had become
jack-off buddies, he had become expert at keeping me on the edge of orgasm,
not making me come until I told him to; and this rim-job technique was one
of his most intense methods. I finally told him that I was ready to come,
and he shifted his grip and grasped my erection with his other hand also to
jack my whole shaft; as I felt the trance of another huge orgasm slowly
engulf my awareness, I reflected back on the events that had led to this
incredible sexual release becoming a daily part of my life...

It started in the spring of my eighteenth year. My best friend was a slightly older
guy who lived a few blocks from me. We had started jerking off with each other
occasionally when we were younger, but it had never amounted to much; we
were both reserved and self-conscious about it; but we would occasionally do
it together when we slept over at each other’s houses.

On this particular night I was sleeping over at his house. We watched a
late-night horror movie, the two of us and his younger brother Paul. Paul had
usually been excluded from our hanging out together, but he had just turned
eighteen, and the friction and competition between them had seemed to be
lessening in recent months.

After the movie we had hot chocolates, and at one point the talk turned to a
new girlie magazine my friend had come by. He got it out, and we all ogled
over the foldout and other suggestive pictures. We all had bulges in our
pants, and my friend suggested he and I turn in, excluding Paul.

Paul got mad at this exclusion, blurting, “I know what you guys are going to
do. I’ll tell mom unless you let me in your room too, then I’ll keep your
secret.” After a little more wrangling over the status of various prior
obligations and counter-obligations between the brothers, it was agreed that
Paul could join us.

We retired to the bedroom, took off our pants and sat on the bed, resuming
our studying of the nasty magazine. All our underwear were tented with our
arousal at the pictures, and when we couldn’t contain ourselves any longer
my friend and I pulled down our briefs and started rubbing our hard cocks.
Paul hesitated, then followed suit.

We sat side by side stroking our hardons, checking each other out as boys
will do. My friend and I had seen each other’s erections many times, but
Paul displayed an especial interest, particularly in my cock, although he
tried to conceal it.

His cock was on the small side, maybe about five inches long, and thin,
like one of my fingers. My friends was nice sized, maybe five-and-a-half inches long, and well formed, a prominent head perched over a substantial shaft.

My hardon was longer, at a bit more than seven inches; but it was unusually
thick. A normal to largish good-sized head perched upon an unusually thick
shaft, as big around as my wrist, which tapered slightly near its tip to
meet the rim of my more normal-sized head. The impression was as if someone
had attached a dick head to a slightly tapering soda can, and somehow attached
it to my groin.

Paul was obviously amazed by my cock, commenting how thick it was; I held it
sticking straight out by its base for him to admire. He looked awed; and,
comparing our three cocks, I could see why he might think so. Although I
wasn’t enormously larger than my friend’s, I couldn’t fit my hand all the
way around mine; next to his, mine looked really abnormal.

We continued jacking off, looking at the centerfold on the bed between us.
Paul came first, a few drops of come trickling out of his little cock as it
twitched. My friend was next, a good several shots arcing over the magazine.
They both watched me once they were done, and I put on a good show with the
extra attention, sticking it out as far as I could, holding it with both
hands on either side wrapped around it as it spewed a larger-than-usual load
under the added excitement of the audience. The hole at the tip of my cock
was as proportionately wide as my shaft, so when I come, it’s in thick,
rope-like streams. Paul was clearly awed by the spectacle, and was quiet as
he retired to his own room for the night.

I didn’t think much about that night’s events until several days later, when
in the afternoon after school the phone rang. It was Paul, and he timidly
asked if he could come over for a little while. I paused, then told him
“ok”, wondering what this was about. Being his older brother’s friend, I
didn’t have much to do with him ordinarily.

A few minutes later he showed up, and I offered him a soda and asked him
what’s up. We chatted a bit, while I waited for him to come to the point. He
seemed nervous about something, so I let him take his time.

We chatted a while; he relaxed a bit, and we even started joking around. He
was maturing nicely, turning into a much more interesting guy than the
little kid I had been aware of over the years. He was developing a
sophisticated sense of humor, and had a quirky, interesting view of things.

After a while he suddenly said, with a disquieting intensity; “I really
enjoyed the other night, you know, when you slept over. That was hot! And
man, your hardon is so huge! It was awesome seeing it shoot off like that,
with both your hands around it!” I felt a twinge of embarrassment to hear
him acknowledging our taboo activities of that night, but also a surge of
pride at his obviously heartfelt admiration of my endowment.

He went on, telling me about how he and one of his friends from the
neighborhood that I knew would get together and jack off together every
chance they got. He spoke about it feverishly, telling me all about their
activities; obviously he was a real aficionado of masturbation, and didn’t
seem to be burdened like I and his brother were with a sense of shame and
taboo about it, and a real fear of others finding out about our activities.
I let him go on; I was quite embarrassed to be hearing him talk about all
this stuff.

He told me about how they had tried jacking each other off, and discovered
that it felt so much better; getting to lie back, not having to do anything
while your cock gets harder and harder until it explodes all by itself. He
glanced up at me as he described it, gauging my reaction; then he sprung his
bombshell on me. Looking up at me with a funny longing, and with a strange
tightness in his voice, he admitted that he came over this afternoon because
he hoped I would let him jack me off.

I was horrified by his admission, and felt an urge to throw him out angrily;
I had never done such a “perverted” thing before; but I was surprised at
feeling strangely excited by the nastiness of what he was suggesting, and
by his eagerness. He was obviously fearful of my rejection; but, also
sensing my excitement, he went on urgently, “You won’t have to worry, it’ll
be our secret, I swear! I won’t breath a word to my brother or anyone. You
won’t have to do anything, I’ll only do whatever you want me to, we can
pretend like I’m your slave. You won’t believe how good it feels! It’ll only
take a few minutes, and then we can pretend it never happened if you want
to, I’ll never tell anybody... ”

Hearing his words, I felt my cock swelling in my pants, and I realized I was
going to let him do it to me. I didn’t say a word, but he noticed my mood
shifting toward acceptance, and continued to utter reassurances as he got up
and locked my bedroom door.

2.

He turned back around after locking the door and came partways toward me,
hesitantly, waiting expectantly. The locked door sealed my commitment to
what was coming, and was strangely reassuring; I felt safely cut off from
the prying eyes and standards of society, and freer to indulge in the
forbidden pleasures that Paul was offering.

I hesitantly reached and undid my belt and waistbutton, then grasped the
zipper to pull it down. I felt a sudden swoon of lust at the nastiness of
what we were doing; the younger boy watched intently in anticipation as I
slid my zipper down, exposing the growing bulge in my underwear that my
swelling erection was causing. It continued to grow under his eager gaze as
I slid my pants all the way down and stepped out of them.

My now rock-hard cock was making a huge tent in the front of my briefs,
which he stared at with a funny hungry fascination. The anticipation of what
we were about to do was incredibly arousing, and I had never felt my rod so
stiff. I felt overloaded, in shock at what I was letting myself do; the
mixture of lust, anticipation, and fear making me dizzy almost to the point
of fainting. I felt like I was possessed, the lust in my groin controlling
my actions against my will, the fear in my head silently yelling STOP, even
as my hands reached for the waistband of my briefs, and slowly pulled them
down to allow my stretched-shiny erection to spring free; then, I lay back
propped up by the pillows on my bed, my hands behind my head, my thick
erection pointed straight up waiting for his ministrations.

As I was lying back Paul knelt at the side of the bed, my hardon inches from
his face, which was suffused with a glow of eager anticipation. Neither of
us said a word as he reached his right hand out and softly took the shaft
between his fingertips, feeling its texture. At the first touch of his hand
on the stretched skin of my erection, it was as if a bolt of lightning went
off in my body; the sensation was like being plugged into an electric
outlet! I could tell he wasn’t exaggerating, this was going to be
incredible.

He softly felt up the shaft of my hardon and up over the rim of its head as
we both watched his actions, and felt the silky red skin there, now shiny
from being stretched so full at my arousal. It felt incredible where he was
touching me, intensely tingling and itching, sending fiery sensations
shooting through my groin. He softly felt back down the shaft to its base,
then gingerly tried to encircle it with his hand; he could only reached
two-thirds of the way around it. He squoze it gently, then resumed his soft
touching feel-job.

As he worked his way back up my virgin hardon he commented about how amazing
it felt to hold such a big one. I could barely focus on his words, I was so
sunken in the most intense erotic sensations I had ever felt. My cock felt
painfully swollen, its skin stretched farther than it had ever been before;
I felt intense yearning in my balls and prostate, as the fluids accumulated
in my groin.

He asked me if what he was doing felt ok as he let his hand drift down to
my ballsack. I moaned assent as he gently explored it with his fingertips,
then weighed my balls cupped in his palm. At that moment a big drop of fluid
oozed from the tip of my cockhead, remaining perched on top of my thick
erection.

He asked me if he should jack me off now, and after hesitating for a moment
to allow me to protest he reached over with his other hand and grasped the
base of my shaft as best he could and started to slowly slide its skin up
and down, continuing to softly tickle my balls with his other hand.

The feeling of someone else’s hands on my genitals was the most incredible
sensation I had ever felt. I was completely transported into sensual
ecstasy; my throbbing erection was the center of the universe, and nothing
else mattered.

He had only gone about a dozen strokes on my cock when I felt myself
starting to come. My arms and legs grew rigid as a wave of intense, tingling
energy swept from my extremities towards my midsection, as my head started
to feel faint. I had never experienced not having to work to make myself
come before, and lying back passively as the sensation washed over me was
the most delicious experience I had ever had.

I felt the fluids surging in my balls as my hardon swelled even further;
Paul felt this and picked up his pace, watching his handiwork with a
focussed hunger, as a flash of light went off in my head and I started to
come. I moaned; my erection started pulsing spasmodically, giving a little
jump on each pulse; the first two pulses were dry, then on the third pulse
a thick rope of come spurted out from my cock, straight up in the air two
feet, followed by another and another, falling back all over Paul’s hand and
my groin and belly. He watched the semen jetting from my throbbing cock
transfixed, staring intently, his eyes glazed over in lust.

The spurts of come gradually diminished into a rivulet flowing down the
front of my cockhead and over Paul’s hand into the building pool of come on
my belly. He kept working me gently until the pulsing had completely
subsided, then gave it several long, squeezing pulls to get the last of the
come out of my shaft before softly releasing it.

I had never come so hard before in my life, or experienced such exquisite
sexual sensations. He asked me if he should get one of the towels from my
bathroom for me, and as he got up to do it I noticed with amazement how
comfortable I felt at what we had just done; somehow the complete privacy of
our situation, together with Paul’s obvious attitude of wholehearted eager
commitment to purposefully making me come, enabled me to feel comfortable
with what was in itself a gross transgression of my usual moral values.

As he returned from the bathroom carrying my towel I noticed that his pants
were tented from his own arousal at what we had been doing. Pointedly
looking at it, I told him he better take care of that. He looked up at me
gratefully, and unzipped his fly, releasing his little, but obviously
rock-hard, erection.

He knelt back down by the side of the bed where he had done me and started
to jack his little cock. After only about twenty strokes he started to come,
and I could tell he was coming hard; his eyes were closed, his face was all
tightened up and turning red, as several small jets of semen squirted from
his hardon.

After a minute , we cleaned ourselves up, and I got dressed. As I dressed I
told him that I had never come so hard before, and that he could do me
whenever he wanted to. He smiled awkwardly, looking down. “I could tell you
liked it”, he said, and added, “I loved feeling your huge dick coming- I
can’t believe how much you come! I’ll do it as often as you’ll let me.” He
looked away with a sudden shyness, as I answered with a forced aloofness
that we could do it again tomorrow after school if he wanted; he said that
would be great, and, unlocking the door, he left.

3.

The next day I arrived home from school restless with anticipation of what
was to come. All day I had kept replaying the events of yesterday over and
over in my imagination, tremendously excited to be having such an incredible
indulgence in such a decadent, nasty act available to me, and yet have no
apparent repercussions in my life. It was like having a secret life where
anything goes, and also my normal life completely untouched by my
licentiousness. I felt a dizzying sense of freedom and liberation at
exploring this virgin territory of experience.

I had been home maybe twenty minutes when there was a knock on my window,
and, looking, I saw it was Paul. He went around to the back door where I let
him in. After offering him a soda we went to my room, and as soon as we had
entered he turned and locked the door.

As he turned back around I had already undone my belt, and was slipping my
pants down. I freed them from my feet and stood there facing him in my
underwear, my briefs stretched to their limit by my already-swollen dick. He
stared at it with his funny mix of longing and fixation, and, without
looking up from it, asked me meekly how I would like him to do me today.

I hadn’t previously thought of the freedom to indulge in my fantasies that
this situation could afford, but freedom and Paul’s submissiveness were a
quick teacher; and getting the idea right away, I pointed at the chair in
front of my desk, and suggested he sit in it, while I stood in front of him.

He followed my suggestion eagerly with no hint of willfulness, walked to the
chair, and was sitting down as I slid my underwear down my legs and off. I
turned to face him, my erection pointing at his face; assessing the
situation, he looked up at me and asked matter-of-factly, “Is it ok if I
take my clothes off? I wouldn’t want to get any on them, it’d show.” I told
him sure, and as he disrobed, I reflected on the power he seemed eager to
give me to direct our activities. It felt exhilarating, and especially with
the wild liberation that our secret pact was making me feel, I felt an extra
thrill to be in charge.

He had taken his shirt off, then his pants and underwear in one movement;
his little erection was sticking up stiffly. I looked at us together, the
contrast between my large hardon and his finger of a cock emphasizing the
disparity between them, making mine seem even bigger by comparison.

He sat back down, his little hardon poking up above his closed thighs. I
turned again to face him, and, giddy at my own brazenness, told him to start
by tickling my cockhead.

He seemed to completely accept my assuming the role of director of our
activities, and compliantly reached his right hand up and began lightly
dancing his fingertips over the skin of my cockhead and around its rim.
Wanting to see how completely he was surrendering to my lead, I didn’t say
anything for several minutes, but he kept right on caressing my cockhead,
obviously content to wait for further directions; I was on fire with the
intense stimulation he was giving my prick, combined with the exhilaration
that being in the position to command my own nasty gratification brought
with it.

Feeling my balls tightening under his intense stimulation, I told him to
shift to very slowly jacking the base of my shaft with his thumb and
fingertips; he complied immediately. As I let him build up a rhythm, the
slow, deep jacking allowed my urge to come to subside and blend into the
groundswell of arousal that was powerfully building in my groin.

We watched his movements together as he jacked me off in silence, he
watching with his usual funny focussed intentness, as if there was some
secret satisfaction that getting to make my big dick come afforded him that
I didn’t understand. But I didn’t complain! If he had his reasons for
wanting to do this with me, so did I, and the steady building of pressure in
my balls constantly reminded me what it was.

A bead of pre-come had been building on the tip of my cock, and I directed
him to do a few long milking strokes with his thumb digging into the bottom
of my shaft to milk out some more. He complied immediately; the shiny drop
doubled its size with his first pull, and with the second slowly dripped
down onto his lap, trailing a long sticky wet string behind it. As I
followed it down with my eyes I noticed a similar bead of cream building on
the tip of Paul’s cock.

Feeling my balls tightening again, I had him just squeeze the base a few
times until the urge passed; but even though his hand wasn’t moving on my
cock I felt the pressure continue to build steadily: my knees grew weak, as
that burning paralysis swept over my body, converging in my groin, and I
started to come.

I had tried to hold out, but it was so nasty and erotic to be standing in
front of this intent boy who so eagerly and worshipfully jacked me off, that
I had no choice but to be pulled down into another huge orgasm. The touch of
his hands on my genitals and the burning of his focussed attention on my
erection was so hot, the sexiest experience I had ever had before.

Paul stared with a burning intensity at my genitals, swelling even more as
the impending orgasm swept over me, and held the base of my erection
motionlessly as he had been instructed as it started bouncing spastically up
and down with the throbs of orgasm.

I was coming; my hardon started pulsing, stretching to its fullest possible
size on the upthrust of each pulse, growing totally rigid, purple with the
blood engorging it as I came, then relaxing slightly before being slammed
with the next throb of orgasm. On the second bounce a thick continuous
stream of come jetted out and caught him squarely in the face. He blinked
and shifted his head, but quickly restored his intent gaze at the awesome
exhibition of my immense rod exploding.