gay coming of age

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Luca has discovered that his cousin and best friend is gay

The magazine – Chapter 2 of 3

Saturday came and I rode to Harley’s house, arriving at 11am. We rode our mountain bikes in the hilly woods nearby. It all looked very normal to an outsider, but we both knew that it was a mere prelude before we had the conversation that was to come.

The weather was warm and humid, and we ended up at Wilkes’ Pond on his family’s property. We’d swum naked there many times over the past five or six years, and it never felt awkward before but now…

“You wanna swim?” he asked.

I shrugged.

“I dunno.”

“Feels weird now?” he asked a little sadly.

“I guess.”

“Why?”

“I dunno. Now I know you’re into dudes, I feel kinda self-conscious.”

He frowned but laughed.

“Really?! Why?”

“I guess ‘cause It feels like you’re looking at me different.”

“Hey Luca, look, I’m gonna be honest, yeah, I’ve looked at your dick out of curiosity a couple of times. Probably no more than you look at your buddies at school. I mean, you’re a good-looking guy, so of course I’m a little bit interested. But it’s not like I’m gonna jump you the moment you get naked.”

The image cracked me up and I started laughing.

“You’re sure? I mean, I am pretty irresistible,” I grinned self-deprecatingly.

“Who told you that – your nana?”

“Nah, your momma!”

“Hey!”

He jumped me and we wrestled playfully. He easily held me in a headlock, and noogied me, rubbing my scalp with his knuckles.

“Hey!” I squealed, struggling in his grip.

I was starting to develop pretty decent lean, teen muscles, but he was in shape, and I was no match for his strength.

He could have pressed hard and hurt me, but he didn’t. He’d never been spiteful.

I futilely struggled a bit longer, grunting at the effort. He taunted me by making piggie squealing noises that made me laugh as much as my own relative physical impotence annoyed me. Then he let me go.

“So, swim, or no?” he asked.

If the humidity and the bike ride had not already made me hot and sticky enough, the brief rough and tumble had definitely done the job.

“Swim,” I concurred.

“Good,” he said with a curt, affirmative nod.

I kicked off my sneakers and socks, and pulled off my t-shirt. He also started with his sneaks, and the second he had his cargo shorts hallway down his thighs, I jumped him from the side and we tumbled to the ground again. I caught him off-guard, and his shorts were wrapped around his legs. I took his back, wrapped my arms around him, and executed a quick noogie of my own, following it up with a wet willie, licking my right index finger before pushing it into his ear and twisting it.

“Ahhh, you fucker! I’ve got your slobber in my ear.”

He reached behind, grabbing the back of my neck, then threw me over his shoulder onto the soft grass, where I landed with a thud. He pulled his pants and boxers down and made as though to sit on my head. I looked up at his sweaty, hairy asshole in horror. I didn’t want that anywhere near my face.

“Surrender, surrender!” I screamed laughing, hands pushed against his buttocks to hold him away.

I could see his fat, ripe, hair-covered, nuts dangling above me. He really was all man.

Harley stood up grinning, and finished undressing.

“Next time you get a brown nose!” he warned.

I’d never heard the term, but it didn’t take too much imagination to figure out, and it definitely didn’t sound like much fun.

“Okay, okay!”

The wrestling was exactly what we needed. The kind of friendly horseplay that we had always engaged in without feeling awkward. The atmosphere was gone. He WAS the guy I’d always felt so close to.

I stripped the rest of my clothes, and stood naked before him. It was a strange thing to do. I mean, we’d been naked many times, but the way I stood directly in front of him was unusual. As though I was unconsciously presenting myself for his approval, or to test his self-control. He gave me a lop-sided grin, and stood with his hands on his hips facing me, two guys, naked as jaybirds. I felt a bit silly but I refused to cover up.

He looked me over starting with my lean but muscular chest, his eyes dropped to my lightly defined abs, then lingered on my groin.

“See, totally resistable,” he said.

I remained there for him to appraise.

“I feel kinda dumb,” I said sheepishly.

“You’re the one who decided to get it all out and stand around like a porn model! I just came along for the ride.”

I grinned awkwardly.

“Yeah, I uh, I dunno why I did that. To test your self-control, I guess. Well done by the way.”

“TOOOOTALLY resistable,” he said laughing and I continued, trying to articulate my thoughts.

“Like, it felt important to show you I still trust you.”

“I should fucking hope so dude. I’d die for you. Nothing has changed.”

I felt odd hearing the declaration so brazenly. I mean, I felt the same way. I’d always been his junior wingman, and though he’d never put me in a situation where that loyalty was called upon, I knew that I would dive into the scariest fight to defend him.

I blushed and looked down at the ground briefly.

“Yeah, me too. I mean, for you, not me. Of course.”

I was bashful all of a sudden, tripping over my words like I never had before.

“Anyway,” he continued, “nice dick.”

I had momentarily forgotten that we were both standing there naked. I grinned shyly.

“Thanks.”

My dick was average-sized; a finger-length log with a neat circumcision that didn’t mutilate the shaft. Just the tip was missing, with the skin neatly continuing just behind the head. My dick looked dusky-coloured rather than brown. It was smattered with short, raggedy, lightish brown hair that also peppered my belly all the way up to my belly button, but had not reached my chest. I guess you could say that I looked manly from the belly button down, and like a boy from the chest up to my youthful looking face.

My dick thickened just a little under his scrutiny, no longer hanging straight down, but he said nothing.

I took the opportunity to openly appraise his dick too. I’d noticed it many times, but never really looked close. But since we were doing the whole, “open and honest” thing, I did so now.

Harley was lean as I was. His belly muscles bumped deeper, and were more functional; the same with his shoulders and upper arm muscles.

He had the start of hair on his chest.

He was hairy down below in a similar way to me. His hairs were a little longer, and his pubes formed loose curls. And from those curls, his thick floppy dick emerged. He was not cut, with his foreskin forming a snout that was loosely open at the tip. It looked soft and moist. I swallowed hard as I studied him. Harley later told me that I kind of licked my lip unconsciously, but I was not aware at the time.

Even allowing for the skin, he was a good two inches longer than me, and he had fat nuts that hung just below the head of his dick, in a velvety and loose bag. The neck of his scrotum narrowed midway down, widening around his nuts. You could almost feel the heft of them just by looking. They would be a handful, loosely rolling in your half-open palm.

I felt a light tingling in my own dick just looking at him. Images of it hard and throbbing in front of another guy flooded my mind. I pushed the images away. They returned with a vengeance, but this time I was imagining it getting hard now, in front of me! I felt a little unexpected churn of excitement in my stomach.

“Why didn’t you get circumcised?” I asked, mentally trying to change the subject.

“Dad didn’t really go with it. He thought we should stay just how the lord made us.”

I couldn’t argue with that.

“You’re really manly,” I said in a low, almost reverent voice.

“Thanks. You’ll get there. You got a great start. Ladies gonna love you.”

“You think?”

“Oh yeah dude. Definitely.”

I didn’t admit to him that I had not yet developed an interest in the ladies. I kept waiting for it to happen, and I assumed I was just a later starter.

Suddenly the moment broke. It felt like we had both slid into an intoxicating parallel universe, where it was okay to be TOTALLY candid about guy stuff. It was heady, liberating, then before it could get too weird, Harley said, “Let’s swim!”

He dived in expertly, his perfectly straight body barely creating a ripple. I waited for him to surface then screamed, “Yeee haaaah!” and jumped high, knees raised and apart, making a noisy bomb right in front of him, and splashing him with a small tidal wave.

He waited for me to surface then shoved me hard laughing.

“You mother fucker!”

“Yeah, YOUR mother!” I shouted back.

“She’s your AUNT!” he shouted.

I grinned widely at the retort, then we had a playful water fight that washed away all of the tension. We swam for fifteen minutes before clambering naked onto the bank, and reclining on our backs on the soft grass. The warm pond water had done nothing to shrivel our dicks. Mine lay on my belly, and his dangled heavily between his thighs.

We both looked up at the sky.

“So, you’re really a fag?” I mused without condemnation.

It was amazing how days of agonising, suddenly seemed ridiculous once I was back in his presence.

“Yup, through and through.”

“What’s it like?”

“Same as being straight I guess. But more dicks.”

I chuckled.

“Is that what you like about it?”

He pondered for a moment before answering.

“I mean, yeah, I like a nice dick, and balls, and a round ass, but I like guys in general. I like the way they look. I like the fact that they are more physical. But you what I love about guys over girls the most prob’ly?”

I had no idea.

“No fucking drama.”

I laughed at that. It was unexpected but I agreed with him wholeheartedly.

“Yeah, that’s the truth!”

I could name a dozen dramas started by girls at school right off the top of my head.

“So um, if it’s not too personal, do you er, you know, do you get fucked, or do you do the fucking?”

To my unsophisticated mind, it was not manly to be on the bottom, but being on top was almost straight.

“Both,” he said. “I prefer to be a top, but being fucked can be great too. You know; with someone you really like. It’s like, trusting them to take control, and you feel closer to them when they’re taking the lead than the other way round.”

“Really? So, erm, what’s it feel like?”

“Are you really sure you want me to go into detail Luca?”

His hesitation gave me pause, and I wondered if the answer might make me nauseous, but I pressed forwards.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Okay. Well, your asshole stretches, and it can be kind of painful at first, then it relaxes. There’s a place inside and every time their dick touches it, it drives you crazy. Almost like cumming, but every time they pump. And you got this feeling of fullness, like this lump of hard meat inside. And you feel super connected to each other. Then he starts fucking, and it’s making you feel great, and you know he’s feeling even better, and that makes you feel good. You know, making another guy feel the best feeling. What can I say? It’s great.”

I looked over at Harley. He had his hands behind his head, with his fingers interlinked. He was looking up at the sky with a kind of dreamy expression on his face, but there was a thick salami protruding from his groin, standing tall, facing 45 degrees towards his head. It was impressive how hard it was; that it could support its own weight at that angle. He wasn’t actively making it bounce, but it still twitched with excitement, as though it had a life of its own.

“Dude, you’ve got a boner!” I informed him.

“Yeah. What did you expect, talking about sex? It’s making me horny.”

“It’s big.”

“Nine inches.”

“It’s really thick.”

“Yeah.”

He reached down and gripped it in his fist, and started slowly jacking it.

“DUDE!” I protested, still reacting on residual masculine repression.

“What?! You were the one that wanted to talk about sex. I’m not gonna leave it like this. It might go off and kill somebody.”

I laughed hard, at that comment.

“Seriously though, I’m fucking horny now. You don’t mind, do you?”

This was a new moment in our relationship. I had to play it cool, especially after weirding out on him earlier.

“Nah, course not,” I said, doing my best to act nonchalant.

He’d never made me feel like the dorky little cousin, and I wasn’t gonna act like one now. I watched for a few seconds as his fist slid up and down his thick dick. Each time it slid backwards, the sticky foreskin revealed his shiny helmet. It was crimson-purple, swollen with arousal. Somehow, that swollen helmet felt especially intimate; the sticky precum moistened bloatedness of it; the dark blood-filled colour. I turned away. He carried on, slowly pleasuring himself.

“Embarrassed cuz?” he asked, looking over at me.

“Of course not,” I lied. “Well… maybe a bit. Kinda.”

“Why? You jack off, don’t you?”

“Yeah, course.”

“Sooo?”

I could feel my face glowing.

 “I dunno. It seems… kinda personal.”

“Really? You’ve seen my dick for years, but now it’s hard, it freaks you out?”

His words made perfect sense, highlighting the irrationality of my reservations.

“I guess you’re right.”

“Course I am!”

He returned his gaze to the sky, and continued beating off.

I lay looking up at the sky too, but I could see his movement in my peripheral vision. I don’t know why, but the knowledge that he was pleasuring himself within touching distance was kind of horny, and even though I wasn’t directly watching him, I could still hear his wet dick and his excited breathing, and it made me feel horny. My dick filled out, laying on my stomach. It was nowhere near as impressive as his; just over than half his length, and thickness. The difference between our maturity had never been more apparent.

“My dick’s so hard it hurts,” I admitted, feeling brave about being so candid.

He smiled.

“Then do something about it.”

My hand wandered down to my stomach almost shyly, and I took a grip. I started pumping fast.

“Do you always jack it so slow?” I asked.

“Depends how much time I have.”

“I usually go fast.”

“Wanna get it over with?”

“Nah, I’m just too horny to go slow.”

He laughed heartily at my confession.

“Luca, you gotta learn to control yourself. No girl wants a boy who spooges in the first 5 seconds! They might find it flattering the first time, but they will definitely get sick of it fast.”

“Spooges?” I asked, grinning at the term.

“Yeah. ‘Ah, ah, spoooooge!’ Like a mutt humping your leg!” he elaborated.

Harley was on form. He was cracking me up constantly, and I think it was more than just relief that the atmosphere was back to normal.

“Here, like this…”

He scooched closer, spat in his fist, and without asking, he swatted my hand off my own dick and took over, replacing my hand with his on my dick, slowing the pace to match his. I was shocked, but I didn’t protest. This felt like a day for broadening my horizons.

He was pacing it out pretty well, and it was just as well because I think I’d have popped my cork within 20 seconds if he hadn’t.

From existential homosexual panic, to shared masturbation in one afternoon was a hell of a leap, but it seemed uncontrived. We were the closest of cousins jacking off together. It felt innocent and spontaneous.  How could there be anything bad about something so natural?

“Told you I was irresistible,” I murmured, looking up at the sky.

He laughed so suddenly and loudly, it almost made me jump.

“I just wanted to slow you down cuz; show you something cool.”

He started doing this weird twisting motion with his fist, like he was polishing the top and screwing my helmet off at the same time. I was astonished at how good it felt and how sensitive my dick head was.

I started grunting in a high-pitched tone, my body squirming like an auditioning porn star being fucked with a dildo. My knees fluttered in and out as my dick and balls responded to the extreme sensitivity that he had unlocked, and was now teasing.

My eyes fell gently closed and my groans turned to whimpers. He continued wanking me at a frustratingly, tantalisingly steady pace that was just too slow to take me over the edge. I’d never felt so horny. My balls ached with desperation to blow their load. My whimpers turned to pleas. As his spit-slicked, rough fingers bumped over my helmet, my dick and my balls were firing off like electric shocks; simultaneously ecstatic and torturous at the same time. His fingers rubbed the dome, and the flared edges. Now that I was so hard, the helmet had moved away from the shaft, and the corona was exposed to his expert touch.

“Huh… Huh… Harley, puh… puh… pleeeease,” I begged in an embarrassingly whiny tone. “Puh… please, s… s… stop!”

“You want me to stop?” he asked.

“Y… yeah.”

He stopped, leaving his hand on my dick.

“No, no, don’t stop!” I said with alarm, instantly countermanding my previous request. “Go, more faster!” I pleaded, losing the power of coherent speech, instinctively fucking his fist, repeatedly thrusting my pelvis upwards to increase the friction.

He resumed his peculiar twisting wank, moving his hand faster. And almost immediately, I creamed into his fist, my juice pumping between his fingers. He changed his technique, his hand moved at lighting speed now, jacking me lightly to maximise the pleasure and power of my orgasm. I arched my back upwards like a gymnast performing a bridge. I fired off more blasts than I could count, launching them into the air. Landing on my belly with a heavy splat, and tangling in with my pubes all the way down.

He carried on for 25 seconds, and I came the whole time. Then he continued on for another 30 seconds, and I squealed and squirmed as he pushed me beyond my pleasure limit. Eventually, I reached down and gripped his wrist, stopping him from pumping.

“Stop, no more,” I panted in a husky voice. “You already broke me.”

He let go. My shaft was gooey with clotted cream, worked into a lather.

He laughed and gave me a light kiss on the cheek.

“Okay, but next time, you jack me as well…”

I collapsed to my back, my balls utterly drained, panting heavily, then fell asleep on the grass to the sound of him finishing himself off.