No Hands, hand jobs" by Jay Roberts Gay High School

By Jay Roberts

Published on Apr 23, 2007

Gay

Controls

==If you don't like porno, especially gay porno, you ought to opt out right now regardless of your age. BUT if you are under 18, whatever you like, you are politely asked to leave right now.

The high school science project was coming in three months. I am an A+ student in science and everyone, especially Dr. Wiener expected me to come up with the winning demonstration. I racked my brain for something new, not the usual, like dissecting frogs or making a robot that cracked nuts or a weather map or some other one that had been done a million times. Suddenly, during a Saturday morning wank session, the big solution was in my hand...well...you know what I mean. I have my best wanks on Saturday morning. Everyone is out of the house and I get up at ten AM hard as a rock and ready to...er...rock.

As I wanked away, I thought that it would be great if I could just lay there and have a machine do the job. Of course, some of my gayer friends have enlisted their even gayer friends to wank them. But the big but is that no one can wank you the way you can wank yourself. Your long acquaintanceship with your willy is something that no other person can possible know.

Okay, that was part of my idea, invent a wanking machine. Of course you might think that a vacuum hose or a milking machine has already been invented. Yeah, but the machine I drew on paper was infinitely better. In fact, just drawing it got me hard. What was needed was a machine that didn't hurry the possess, a machine that would gently and maybe madly bring you to such a mind crashing spooge that you might decide to go away to a cave and marry it.

You fellow wankers know that as hard as you try to prolong the fun, you just can't do it. Soon you have to say "oh shit!" and polish your knob firmly and quickly. This machine will take the decision out of you...shall we say hands.

I didn't even try to get permission from Dr. Weiner, even though he was pretty liberal. After all he was only 24 years old and pretty cute, and treated me like a younger brother. A kid brother who was smart, but often pushing the envelop. I also know he liked me in a lascivious way because he always checked out my crotch area as I approached his desk. His name was Weiner and weiners were his game. (Is that funny? If not I'll forget it.) Of course, you ought to know that I am a wonk, but a cute wonk. I'm 5'10" of lanky male beauty, curly brown hair and brown eyes. My best features can be found on my face: perfect nose, white teeth and pouty mouth.

Weiner asked me several times about entering my project. I just smiled and said I'm working on it and it was a secret. The actual construction proved easier than I thought and by the end of 30 days it was ready to test. I had developed a wheel with synthetic feathers to stimulate the phallus. The control board can vary the speed and firmness of the stroking. Only one thing was left: to name it. I tried several names as follows:

The Monkey Spanker

The Pole Greaser

The Cock Teaser

The Ultimate Milker

Joey's Jiffy Jerker (my name is Joey)

The Dry Blow Job

The Wonder Wanker

The Getter Offer

Onan's Omen

The Master Masturbator

I had ten more, but I decided that Joey's Jiffy Jerker perpetuated my name for the Hall of Fame.

Now I had to test it. I could not test it myself. There was no way I could run the controls and be tested at the same time. I appealed to my friend Buddy Thompson. When I outlined the deal he looked at me with amazement. "You expect me to drop trou and show you my erected penis and worse, allow myself to be masturbated. Masturbation is a private matter for me. No way, no how, no time, never."

"I take it that is a "no", I said weakly.

Now I was facing a seeming impasse. I could see that any boy my age, 18, would give the same answer. I had to think. Finally I listed a few ways I could get a subject:

Get him drunk

Punch him into unconsciousness and tie him up

Offer him money

Chloroform

I considered the efficacy of each of the above. Drunk? No good, that would affect his ability to erect and he might never cum. Same with using roofies. Punching him would get me jail time and a life long enemy. The money had possibilities, also chloroform which was available in the HS lab.

There was a gay kid in school that I knew vaguely. He was pretty swish, but he added the especial attraction of always being broke. I found him in the schoolyard with two of his posse and I asked to speak to him privately. The other two twinks fanned themselves girlishly as Tommy and I walked a distance away to talk. I didn't waste time. "Tom," he interrupted to say that he preferred "Tommy, or Tommykins," I continued and told him about the science fair and the machine I invented. "It's a wanking machne."

"A what?"

"Yeah you lay down and attach the business end of it and then just relax and have a good cum."

"You got to be kidding. I would never use that, I get off with someone else, no machine."

"Yeah but suppose you could get off and get a hundred dollars for doing it?"

"Naw, wait, one hundred dollars, in cash before hand? If so, yes."

I arranged for him to come to my garage where the device was housed. I stopped at the bank on my way home and cashed a check. That left me only $300 in my college fund. Oh well, easy go...easy cum (hah).

He arrived at the garage at 4:00 o'clock. He had changed into a pair of shorts and a tee shirt and slides, sort of get-fucked- clothes. He was a bit nervous. But that was all right. The problem is that he thought I was going to have sex with him and I had to show him the machine and explain exactly what was going to happen (I hoped.) I assured him that there was no chance of being electrocuted.

So, Tommy was definitely not shy. He shucked his clothes, waggled his shapely ass and shook his substantial dangler. I put a stop to this. "Hey save it for the test."

I had him lay down on the cushions and I placed the actual wanking mechanism over his cock. He cooed with the attention. "Joey, why don't you just do it. You're s-o-o-o much nicer than any old machine."

I ignored his flirting. Everything was ready. I took the controller and sat down on a chair a little away from the couch. I snapped it on. The mechanism of stimulation was a bit like a brushless car wash. It passed over his flaccid cock a few times. "Oh nice," he breathed. "By George I think you got something here."

Then it really started, back and forth, tantalizing, maddingly gentle. "Oh Joey, this is driving me nuts. I'll never cum with this slow poke." But still I could see that he was very stiff and his cock was pulsating. This went on for quite awhile. Poor Timmy was hanging on the fence and couldn't fall off into his cum. I turned off the machine. "Timmy, what's wrong?"

"I'll tell you, doll, it does a nice job of stroking the shaft, but...." Here he dropped his voice into a confidential whisper, "I like the head sorta polished. You know what I mean?"

"Oh Timmy, thanks for straightening me out. That's why I wanted to test it. Can you keep on that same page and let me make an adjustment, and add the other stimulator?"

"Sure I can do it, and while you adding the whatsit, if your hand sort of bushes my stuff I won't complain."

I was careful not to give him any stimulation from my hand, that would foul the results. Soon I had the stimulator in place and the new swiper also. I turned it on. Immediately Timmy began a nice song of humming and cooing. He was really cute when he was turned on. The swiper swiped and he now began to moan wildly. Next state his hips began to rise and lower in a fuck rhythm. Then he shouted out, "Hey fucker, you did it, I'm going deliver...now!"

Wow his cock began to jump and shoot. I must have counted ten times that streams of cum shot out. Poor Timmy was exhausted and I think he passed out. I lightly patted his cheeks. "Hey Timmy, speak to me. Are you okay?"

How would I explain his death by ejaculation right on my machine. That made me a murderer, but suddenly his eyes popped open. "Let's do it again. If I die, I die. Never have I ever felt a cum like that. Sell me the machine."

He babbled on, but I finally paid him and got him out of the garage. My machine was a complete success, still it needed more than one testing. This time I got hold of Biff. Biff was as dumb as a stone, but he liked and admired me. I told him about my machine and the hundred dollars he could earn. He was more than willing.

The next day, four o'clock, big Biff was lying in the cradle, the stimulators in position, his developed hairy legs stretched out. I took my place. His cock was one of those that increased size about five times, and even without a hard on it was prodigious. I'll have no trouble seeing the results of the machine. I turned it on. Geez, Biff was some subject. Immediately his eyes rolled up and his tongue lolled out of his mouth and he drooled. As the machine stroked and polished his big red cock head he began gasping, almost crying with pleasure. I thought any minute he would paint the walls, but I didn't figure on what would become a real flaw in the application of the machine: Guys were different from each other. I had designed it for my kind of jerking off, Tim showed me that it wasn't his, and now I had to figure out what was going on with Biff, now lying there panting and unsatisfied.

"What's wrong Biff. Why doesn't it get you off? Tell me for the sake of science."

Biff raised his shaggy head and blushed. "Well Joey, I'd only tell you, but I can't spooge unless my balls are played with, you know, squeezed and pulled. Now don't tell the other fellas 'bout this. It's between us'n."

"No problem pal. Thanks for your honesty. Stay there. I can easily add that little fillip to the works."

I added the ball petter and puller and Biff lay back and I turned it on. Oh boy did Biff love this. He was mewing loudly and his head turned ecstatically side-to-side. His fists pounded the sides of the couch. Then with a jungle roar his eight-inch dick began to spew like a fire hose. Maybe a good pint came out. Like Timmy, poor Biff was in a faint. This time I wasn't worried. I just sat and waited. One eye opened, then the other, he burped and then farted. "Hey Joey, you got something good here. If only Thomas A. Edison was alive to see it."

I was so elated, so filled with myself, that I could hardly contain myself. Right after science class I went up to Weiner. "Doc, I did it. I invented and constructed a new machine that has already been tested and proven. I need your written position to enter it in the science fair. Is it possible for you to come to my house, er, garage and see it?"

He looked lovingly at me and grabbed my shoulder. "Joey I'd be proud to look it over. I'll drive over at the end of the day." He gave my shoulder another squeeze. Shit, I am so sensitive, he was giving me a hard on. As I walked back to my seat, my heavy denims were giving my Jolly Roger a nice massage, but not as nice as my machine could.

I was in the garage. I polished the machine, cleaned up some spooge stains from my two subjects, readjusted the pulleys and stuff. I cocked my head, yes that was Weiner's old noisy Jeep making its way up and parking in front of the garage. He knocked and I opened the side door. My eyes bugged out. I had never seen him in anything but dress pants and a white shirt. The most informal he ever managed was to turn up his sleeves. But that was nice. He had strong forearms and sexy arm hair. But today, right in front of me was a new Weiner. He was dressed in short-short basketball shorts, his shapely, hairy legs on display. His red athletic top showed up his nice shoulders and best of all, his hairy pits. "I was shooting baskets." He gestured toward his attire. "I remembered our appointment and I rushed over. Is that the contraption."

I finally closed my mouth. "Yes, you see the subject sits here naked, of course, and the stimulator is positioned thus. Here is the console/controller that I made from old TV parts."

Doc started at my pride and joy (No you dopes, not that, my machine.) He walked around it several times, lifted some parts up, fiddled with the control box, then he turned to me. "If I didn't know better, I would think this is a masturbator."

"Exactly!" I said proudly.

"Look Joey I know you are at that age where everything is sex. You have turned your personal hobby into an...an...appliance. Look at this machine with a cool head, there is nothing new, nothing patentable. You have merely reused already existing technology. But, " and now he smiled brilliantly at me, "I would love to see it work. Why don't you demonstrate it for me. You know there is a long history of scientists trying out there achievements on themselves. Er, I think you have to get undressed to work it."

"Try it myself. Look what happened to Dr. Jakell. But okay. Lets do it. You sure you know how to work the controls?"

"For sure, now get to it."

I took off my sneackers and soxs. Would you believe it, Weiner stared at my feet. I think he's a foot man. I must try him out some time. I looked down. I do have great feet, high arch, perfect straight toes and for a kid, the nails are well trimmed. I stopped musing and continued. I put my hands on either side of my tee shirt, jock style, and whipped it off. I heard his intake of breath. My chest is not a weight lifters chest, but it's smooth and my pecs are pretty good. I especially like my large pink areolas and perky tits. Next came my jeans, exposing my slim well shaped legs, hairless except for my inner thighs. His eyes took in my legs. Shit this was getting to be a seduction, but whatever happens, let it happen. He waited. He made a motion for me to take off my red briefs. I bent over and slid them down my thighs and then straightened up. As you know, I was already a little lengthed and my cock look just excellent hanging there over my long ball sack. He took me by the shoulders and urged me down onto the couch of the machine, brushing my chest as he adjusted me. He put the stimulator in position, the back of his hot hand bushing my dick. Oh shit, I felt a real jump in my stuff.

On went the machine. I don't know about you, but I am not a silent guy when it comes to sex. I tend to talk a blue streak. This time I told Doc exactly what I was feeling. My words like, "I'm getting a lift off. My cock is now resting against my stomach, I can feel wetness dripping on my belly from pre-cum. I'm on the way to a big orgasm." All this in a breathless croaking voice. Doc was red in the face, he was breathing hard, and I could see his satin shorts were pushed out into a Pyramid. My excitement was really getting him sexed up.

Now, just like my other two friends, I too was having a problem making it over the top. If it were my own hands instead of the machine, I would have spewed by now. I felt unloved. I needed more human contact. I took a big chance. "Doc, I can't get off. I need something." I put my puffy lips into a kiss pout. He caught on and leaned forward and put his scientific, twenty-four-year old lips against mine. He smelled beautiful that close and I could feel his upper lip, with its late afternoon whiskers tinkling my lips. We parted panting. "Doc, I want my mark raised for that," I said through gasps.

"You already got an A+. There is nothing higher I can give you except......"

"What?"

"You need something to suck on while you reach your height." He allowed his shorts to fall to the floor. He had on a well-used jock. He moved closer, I moved his jock aside and his long thin cock with a lollypop head came into view. He already was leaking dew.

He grunted to me, "Joey, suckle me, take the teet."

With a groan I allowed his cock to enter my mouth. I was dripping spit in excitement. I began to pull on it, suck it, lick it. He went into orbit, moaning continuously. The two of us were at such a state of excitement that we knew it was only a matter of moments before the dam would break. He went first, his cock delivered sweet milk to me and then my body locked as I shot across my chest, my cock jumping wildly like a runaway fire hose. I felt the room spinning. The next thing that happened was Doc's worried voice and hand slapping my face. "Joey, my God, are you dead? Speak to me."

I came to and smiled. "Hey Doc, you got delicious spooge."

Well I never put this machine in the science fair. In fact I dismantled it because I was beginning to get calls all the time from the kids in school. "Hey Joey, can we get wanked in your machine?" They were even willing to pay me. I didn't want to be a mad scientist. But the machine did do something, it flushed all the hot kids out and I had some great dates my last year in high school.

End

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