After we stripped down to our boxers and swam for a while to cool off, we pitched the tent, and built the fire, and it got dark out. It must have been midnight before we let the fire die and turned in for our sleeping bags, but we still didn't nod off. There was more chatter about school, teachers we hate, and teachers we love. Then we got into the girls. We always got into the girls, I always wanted to know, and you were an inexhaustible fountain of information when I came to that. We talked about who was the hottest, Sally Baker in her cheerleader's skirt, and Beth Walker who always had her thong hanging out. By then I had figured out how to kiss, and I even got pretty good at groping. But I was only eighteen, and things don't happen quite so quickly in a Christian school. You, at nineteen, had kissed, groped, fingered, licked, and even fucked. I hadn't ever experienced a blowjob, but I loved to brag to you about that time I was so close. It was a little stretch of the truth in fact. When her parents came home, she had only touched me through my jeans on accident. But it was a great time.
All that talk about girls, and sex; it got me really excited, as it usually did. Soon I could tell you felt the same way, I could hear the slow whisp of your hand against the sleeping bag. I joined in, and I didn't care that you were doing it or that you knew that I was. We had done it so much; it just seemed natural. We talked on about girls, the difference between a hand job and a blowjob, and where to get condoms cheap. All the while you added in a few questions of your own, and at the time, I was too horny and too oblivious to get the hint. "You're really horny aren't you?" "Have you ever thought about a guy like that?" "You know, you really need to feel what a blowjob is like, it's just the greatest!"
I didn't have a clue. But you did; you knew exactly what you were doing. You knew I wouldn't refuse you, not after all those stories. You just leaned over, pulled back my sleeping bag and said, "Whoa, that's really something isn't it. You want a hand with that?" But it wasn't a question. You reached out and grabbed my cock, and held it there, slowly jerking just like I had heard you doing to yourself looking me right in the eyes, just making sure I wouldn't say anything. I just stared back. I hadn't expected that, but it wasn't bad. Your hand was a little rough, and a little big, but it felt wonderful feeling that oh so familiar pull without doing it myself. I put my head back on the pillow to enjoy you, and the roughness was gone. You pulled back my foreskin and licked the tip of my cock; right underneath, where you had told me was the best. I gasped but didn't say anything, and you sucked me into your mouth. Your nearly bald head bobbed up and down and I could feel you taking in all six inches of me. I nearly screamed each time I felt your bottom lip brush my nuts as the tip of my cock slammed against the back of your throat. I was going to cum and you knew it.
