Summer of Discovery

By Stephen Epsilon

Published on Aug 29, 2002

Gay

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This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance between characters described here and actual persons, living or dead, is unintended. This work contains depictions of sexual activity among family members of same and opposite sexes. If you find such material offensive, you don't have to read it.

SUMMER OF DISCOVERY

CHAPTER 1

To begin with, let me say right here that I'm not any ultra-handsome fantasy stud. Average, I guess, not Alec Baldwin, not Quasimodo, either, average height, need to lose the fifteen pounds or so that every average guy I know in his forties needs to. The point is that what I'm about to relate here happened to average old me and several other average friends of mine, not to Pamela Anderson or George Clooney or Tyra Banks or any of those other plastic fantasy types who grace the covers of the tabloids and fan mags at the supermarket. Who knows, maybe such things happen to them, too. I hope so, actually, because what happened with me and my friends would make the world a better place if it did happen to more people.

Because of the nature of this story, I'm going to use aliases, so that nobody is in danger of being recognized. For purposes of discretion, the necessity for which will become obvious, I'm using pseudonyms here. Therefore I'm Steve. My wife Beth and I live in a suburban neighborhood of a Bible-belt city, where I make a good living in a financial-services business, and Beth teaches fourth grade. Three kids, daughter Ginger, 23, in grad school out of state, and twin sons Aaron and Eric, 20, both undergrads at a university a hundred miles away. So the house is empty except for the two of us, two cats and the planet's ugliest and friendliest big mongrel dog, Bobo. Like I said, average.

The summer was one of those frog-friers, hot and dry for what seemed would last forever. My next-door neighbor, Todd had embarked on a fence-building project he was now regretting he hadn't either started earlier or put off until fall when the weather might be cooler.

It was a Saturday afternoon in early August, and I'd come home from a short morning at my office, where I'd had to finish up a project, the hear the sound of Todd's hammering, interspersed with the occasional swear, from the yard next door. Beth was away on an antique-shopping excursion with two women friends, one of them Todd's wife Jan.

Todd was building the fence around his swimming pool, replacing an old ugly wire fence with a tall wooden one to screen the pool entirely from outside view. As I headed into my garage, I heard him yell, "Shit!" one more time, and follow that with the clang of something metal, a hammer probably, striking the concrete pool deck.

I walked around back to where a shorter fence adjoined our two back yards, in time to see him step down from a short ladder. He was wearing shorts and no shirt, and his reddened back gleamed with sweat.

"Need some help there, Todd?" I said.

He looked over at me. "Fuck yes," he said, "about thirty fewer degrees Fahrenheit."

"Only way to get that around here today is to hit that pool," I said.

He wiped himself with a towel, and stretched like his back muscles were hurting him. "Not a bad idea, Steve. Not a bad idea at all. Want to join me?"

I looked at the pool, shimmering in the sun. It did look damn inviting, and we didn't have one. "You know, I think you're right. Give me a couple minutes and I'll get some trunks."

"Fuck trunks," he said. "Why'd you think I built this damn fence?" With that, he slipped his shorts off and plunged butt-naked into the pool. After a few seconds under water, he stood up, shook his wet hair, and said, "Wow, is this ever nice. Hey, come on in. I got towels."

I watched him for a second or two. With that new fence up the only place the pool could be seen from was our back yard. What the hell, I thought, why not? We had a gate between the two yards, so getting there and back was easy. In a matter of seconds, I was stripped and plunged into the water, too.

The shock of it, after the heat, was electric, and then followed by a soothing coolness made extra comfortable by the utter lack of clothing.

"Not bad, is it?" he said, grinning. I nodded.

For a couple of minutes we both kind of lounged about in the water, letting the fatigue brought on by the heat leave us. I swam a couple of languid laps, and felt like I could stay there the rest of the day.

"Thirsty?" Todd said. "Want a beer, or something?"

"Yeah," I said, "that sounds damn good right now."

"Be right back. Take one of those towels over by the deck chair there and dry off if you want to get out."

He climbed out of the water, didn't bother about drying off or dressing, and went in to this house through a sliding glass door. I pulled myself out of the pool, too, went for the towel and dried off some.

And then the thing happened. Every now and then it does, for no reason I can think of. In a matter of about five seconds, I got a raging erection.

Christ, I thought, I can't let Todd see this. I wrapped the towel around my waist, which didn't do much good as far as hiding the damn thing went. But it would not go down. I heard the door slide back open. I waited with my back to him, sensing his approach more than actually hearing it, praying for the thing to soften, until the icy jolt of a cold can of beer against my back forced me to spin around.

"Christ!" I shouted. "You damn near gave me a heart attack!" The bastard just stood there, laughing, holding out the beer to me. I hadn't even realized it, but the towel was down at my feet, and my prick was wavering in front of me, harder than ever.

"Looks like I gave you something else," he grinned.

I was mortified, and the blush physically tingled in my face. "This is damn-- embarrassing," I stammered.

Todd looked at me with a trace of a smile. "Doesn't look like anything to be embarrassed about to me," he said. "You think it's too small?"

I managed a chuckle, which cracked the ice a little. "No, but--well, shit, I don't know why this happened. I mean--"

Todd laughed out loud. "Will you for God's sake not worry about it? Am I going to tell anybody? Christ, I'm standing here naked, too. Sit down, I'll get you a beer."

I sat on the sofa, and watched him walk off to the kitchen, realizing as he disappeared behind the door that my gaze had been focused on his ass. I heard the refrigerator open, and he called "Heineken okay?"

"Yeah," I said. My dick was harder than ever. The fridge door closed and he walked out of the kitchen carrying two bottles of beer and with his cock waving stiff as a baton in front of him.

"Now look what you've done," he said with a grin as he handed me the beer. He sat beside me on the other end of the sofa. I took a long swig from the bottle. "Reminds me of when I was twelve or so, me and friends would go out in the woods and talk about girls and get hard-ons and sit around comparing equipment."

"We need five or six women," I said.

He didn't say anything right away, but drank a couple of sips from the bottle. Then he said, "Not necessarily."

It took a couple of seconds for that statement to sink in. What the hell did he mean? I drank more slowly at the beer and suddenly realized that I had been unconsciously stroking my erect penis. I took my hand away, once again with the blood hotly flooding my cheeks.

"Look," he said, "it's okay. I mean, I don't mind, or anything. I guess we're both just horny. A lot of times after I swim I get hard."

"Yeah," I said, "but I don't want--I don't know, I just never--had a hard-on with another guy around before."

"Me either. At least not since those kid days. But--what the hell."

Now I saw that he was stroking his cock, too, and the next thing I knew I had resumed. Damn I was hot. For maybe half a minute we sat there in silence, sipping beer and playing with our stiff dicks. Then he tipped his head back and drained the rest of his bottle with a long gulp.

"I need another one," he said. "You?"

"Yeah," I said; my voice sounded hoarse. He got up and went back to the kitchen. I waited on the sofa, finishing my last few sips of beer, with confused, disconnected thoughts racing through my mind. What was happening here? Why was I so excited sexually? Why did I have to keep looking at his dick? Why wouldn't my erection go down?

He came back out with the beer, as stiff as before, and as he handed the bottle to me I all but dropped it because I was staring directly at his pole as it waved about two feet in front of my face.

"You sure you got hold of that now?" he asked.

I had the beer in hand, but that wasn't what I wanted to have hold of. "Yeah," I croaked.

He sat back down, a trifle closer to me this time, I thought. I was watching him finger his prick, and, when I glanced up, saw that he was watching me do the same. I felt myself shivering, with the most unfamiliar and unholy urges. I fumbled the beer, and again almost dropped it.

"Looks like you need two hands for that beer," he said with a snicker. "Or do you want me to hold it for you while you take care of business?"

I looked at him. He had set his beer down on the end table next to the sofa, and continued rubbing his cock up and down with one hand. Then my mouth said something that my brain failed to prevent:

"You're so interested in my 'business', how about I drink the beer and you take care of it?"

He laughed, and in that moment the veil of inhibition slipped rather badly. "Okay," he said, "what the hell. Might be fun."

Might be fun. The words seemed to echo in my ears. And the next I knew he had sidled over next to me and his hand was wrapped around my cock.

I must have flinched a little, because he took it away, but I said, "No--it's okay. Go ahead."

His fingers felt like they had little electrical currents in them. I leaned back and took a deep drink of the beer.

"Damn," he said, breathily. "I, ah, got a confession to make. You know how I told you about that kid stuff?"

"Yeah."

"Well, we sometimes did a little more than just compare, you know?"

"Oh? And what might that have been?"

"Well," he said, and he ran his fingers up to the head of my cock, "we, ummm, did this. I remember it being quite a bit of fun at the time."

"How many of this 'we' were there?"

"Oh, let's see, I think there were five of us kids in the neighborhood altogether who discovered this little secret. Some combination of us would get together when we could, and jack each other off. After a couple of summers we began to discover the use of these things with girls, and sort of stopped. But it's always been kind of a fun memory. I never told anybody before."

I didn't say anything for a few seconds, lost in the unfamiliar, scary, and damn pleasurable feeling his hand was giving me through my dick. I couldn't remember the last time I was so excited.

Without saying anything, my left hand reached under his arm to find his erection, and I began reciprocating the wondrous things he was doing to me. God his dick was hard, and hot, and smooth, and felt incredible. I could hear him breath in small gasps, and realized I was doing the same.

"Jesus," he whispered hoarsely. "How--how serious are you about--this?"

"Shit, I don't know."

"You want to come?"

"I don't know. I mean--"

"I want you to. I want to see you shoot your load."

I was damn close, and hearing him say that just about put me over the edge. "Wait," I said, "not yet." I didn't quite know what I wanted, but what I didn't want was for this to end just yet. His prick felt incredible in my hand, but at this point I wanted more. I wanted to have a fantasy fulfilled, and by now there was no reason not to have it.

"I want to suck your cock," I told him.

"You what?" His stroking stopped, but he didn't let go of my prick.

"You heard me. Look, there's nobody here but us, and none of this is ever going to leave this room, but goddammit, you got me into this, and now I want to find out what it's all about."

I looked him square in the eye.

"I might come," he said.

I paused. That thought hadn't consciously occurred to me, but . . . many women certainly enjoyed that experience. There had been a time, in younger years, when Beth had actually been able to have an orgasm just by having me shoot off in her mouth alone. And give me cum-filled French kisses immediately afterward, so I knew what semen tasted like. But that hadn't happened in a long time. And I couldn't deny that the thought, as a fantasy, hadn't crossed my mind a few times. "What the hell," I said.

In the next instant I was on my knees between his spread thighs, one hand cupping his balls and the other wrapped around the base of his pole, staring at the head of his cock with its drop of pre-cum oozing from the piss-hole, not six inches from my face.

The next thing I knew he was in my mouth. It was like there had been a little time gap or something, I didn't remember actually putting my lips down around it, but there I was running my tongue around the head of his dick, my lips clamped just below the rim. The heat of his cock surprised me, but the smoothness was just intoxicating, pure pleasure to my mouth. He might come? Shit, at that moment he could have pissed in my mouth, but he by god wasn't going to take his prick out of it, no sir, not right then. Any inhibitions I might have had about sex with another male were gone. I was going to blow him; I had to find out.

"Oh, shit, Steve," he breathed, half-whisper, half-moan. "God damn. Look, you don't have to--oh!"

Whatever he intended to say melted away into heavy breathing. His hips began lightly fucking his cock upward into my mouth.

It was completely intoxicating. No wonder most women like to suck on a man's stiff prick. No wonder Beth got so fired up from sucking mine, or used to, that is. Here I was, a forty-something married man, in this completely unexpected situation, kneeling in front of my next-door neighbor, blowing him! It had long been a kind of distant fantasy, but now, suddenly, it was real! And both of us were loving it.

"Oh, fuck, Steve," Todd moaned, "Jesus Christ, you keep that up and . . ."

I slid my lips up and down his shaft, reveling in the smooth warm feel of it, running my tongue over the head, across his distended piss-hole. I could hear him panting, his hips pressed his prick upward into my mouth. I cradled his balls in one hand and rubbed the fingers of my other up and down the base of his shaft. Suddenly I realized, not only did I not care if he came, but I wanted it! I wanted the experience of taking his load full in my mouth. I hadn't planned any of this, but I was there now, and I might never get another chance to know what this was like, what a woman felt when a guy blew off in her mouth. I needed to know.

"Hah!" he gasped, "oh, shit, Steve, I'm----" He tried to pull away, but it wasn't much of a try, and I drove my mouth down on his hot prick as far as I could, feeling the bullet of his head bump against the back of my mouth, causing me to gag just a little. His pelvis quivered.

"Aaaaaaah . . ." he breathed. I had pulled my lips back to just around his rim, when I felt the first hard hot spurt against the roof of my mouth. I covered his hole with my tongue, and the second burst flowed over it, filling my mouth with salty, soapy fluid. His cock spasmed against my hand and lips as he unloaded squirt after squirt into my mouth. I had a moment of shock, almost of panic, but it was only a moment, before I was overwhelmed with this wave of pure pleasure, not quite orgasmic, but damn close. I could hear him gasping as his cock pumped its load, his hands clasping the back of my head, feeling the quivering along the underside of his shaft against my tongue.

I held on, taking all he had to give, lost completely in the hot eroticism of feeling my mouth full of his sperm. Like I said, I had tasted my own cum a number of times, shared with Beth in her more nasty moments, either from her mouth or her pussy. Todd's tasted about the same, but the difference was it wasn't my own, and I was getting it straight from the source. His cock spasmed in its bath of semen for some seconds, as he sat quietly back, panting, then I felt it begin to soften.

Suddenly it hit me what I had done and where I was. I had given another guy a complete blow job! I was kneeling there with my mouth full of his salty cum, and I almost had a moment of panic over what to do next. I lifted my mouth from him, and drained the contents of it down my throat with an audible gulp. My face flushed, and I knelt back, overcome with mortification.

"Sorry," he whispered.

I couldn't look at him. "It's okay," I managed, and I stood up. My knees were shaking.

"I didn't mean--for any of--this -" he stammered.

"It's okay," I repeated. Somehow, I needed to reassure him, and reassure myself, too, I guess. I sat back down on the couch next to him. "I mean--I didn't either."

"You all right?" he asked.

I looked at him now, and thought for a couple of seconds. Yeah, I was okay. My dick still waved in front of my lap, hard as a tent-pole. It hadn't been bad; it hadn't been bad at all.

"I'm fine," I said. "I guess--I just got a little excited----"

"I'm not going to tell anybody, or anything," he said. He seemed as embarrassed as I had been. Somehow, I wasn't so embarrassed now. I guess maybe there was no denying what I had done, and there was no denying I had enjoyed it, either.

"Well, you can bet I won't," I said, and even managed a little smile.

He paused, looking at me curiously.

"I didn't know you were into this sort of thing," he said.

"I damn sure didn't either."

"You never did this before?"

"Hell, no. Like I said, I guess I just got a little excited."

"Me, too. Damn excited."

"I could tell," I said, and he laughed.

"Well, fuck," he said, "I guess we'll just consider this our little secret. It's been a long time since I did anything really new."

"It must have been a long time since you did anything."

He smiled. "I was pretty loaded there, wasn't I? But--well, you'd know better than I would. You want another beer? Or have you had enough to drink?"

"Fuck you," I snorted. "Yeah, I'll have another beer."

He went to the kitchen while I had a little time to myself to think. Christ! I'd done something I never thought I would, even though I'd been curious from time to time, just like pretty much every other man, I suppose. But it was with my neighbour, my good friend, I guy I saw almost every day. Now, every time either of us saw each other, there would be this weird embarrassing secret between us. I could still taste a residue of his cum.

He came back out and handed me a fresh cold one. In front of him dangled, still a little swollen, a not-so-fresh hot one. I could have stuck it right back in my mouth, to hell with the beer.

He sat down next to me, and the next thing I knew, his hand was around my throbbing cock. "So, what was it like?" he asked with a smile.

"Whoa," I said, "wait a minute--"

"For what?" he said, still smiling. "You didn't mind before. And none of this is ever going to leave this room, for damn sure."

His hand had begun stroking up and down my shaft, and it felt damn good, I tell you.

"I don't know----" I began.

"You seemed to enjoy what you were doing."

"It was weird--but, well, like I said, I was excited."

"You still seem to be." He was bringing me close to climax with his hand.

"Listen," I said, breathing heavily, "you keep doing that, I am not going to be responsible for what happens."

He hesitated just a second or two. "Look," he said. "Drink your beer, shut up and listen. I never figured I'd ever do anything like this, for real, but I've thought about it a million times, just as a fantasy, you know. But you know what? I'm having fun. I mean--I came in your mouth, Steve. Obviously I enjoyed it. I'm not sure I'm ready to do that to you--yet--but I think I'd like to see you come, too. So--"

He leaned over and, after another second's hesitation, slipped the head of my quivering penis between his lips. It was all I could do to keep from flooding his mouth. He held it there a few seconds, then released it and sat back up, continuing his stroking with his hand.

"There," he said. "that should seal it. It's our secret now. Officially, we're both cocksuckers." And he laughed.

"I--" I began.

"I said shut up," he ordered. "I can't leave you in this condition, can I? Might be pretty dangerous for Beth when she gets home. I want to see you cum. I don't give a shit if you spray all over the goddamn living room." And he began rhythmically stroking me with a purpose now. I took a swig of the beer, set the bottle down on the end table, and leaned back.

It took about ten seconds. I don't remember much except the electric build-up in my crotch that spread through my body and erupted in a spasm of pleasure I didn't know was still possible. I think my eyes might have been closed, but I'm not sure. I felt a splat of hot wet fluid land on my chest. The rest was a total ecstasy meltdown.

"Ooooh, yeah," I heard Todd's voice breath, as his lubricated hand slowly caressed my still spasming erection. "Damn. Good thing it wasn't in my mouth when that happened. I'd have drowned."

I think I managed to gasp something intelligent, like, "Fuck."

"I'll go get a towel," he said. "You need it." He let go of my cock, and headed to the bathroom. I sat there, gasping, with growing and not altogether comfortable astonishment at what we'd both just done. In a few seconds he was back, and he must have noticed my discomfort on my face. He handed me the towel and I began, with some embarrassment, to wipe the cum off my stomach and chest.

"Hey, look," he said as he sat back down, "it's okay. It--hasn't been bad, has it? Like I said, our private secret. Think of it as being kids in the woods. I guess we both just needed something, and I'm not going to start carrying a purse, or anything. Lighten up."

"Yeah," I said, "I guess so. But I sure never expected anything like this."

"Well, me neither. But, I'll tell you, I'm not unhappy about it. It'll make some interesting thoughts when Jan gets back tonight."

"Jan? You're not going to tell Jan----"

"Oh, fuck no! I'm not going to tell anybody. Christ, you think I'm an idiot? But--well, when we're having fun, it'll give me something new to think about. Memories are better than fantasies any day."

I had to think about all this. Without much further said, we dressed, and I thanked him for the beer and "stuff", at which we both laughed, a little uncomfortably, I thought, and I left. No need to tell you what dominated my thoughts after that. Within an hour I was hard as granite, and couldn't wait for Beth to get home.

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