Max and Tony had been friends since third grade. They were always together, had similar interests. If folks out in the community saw one of the close buddies alone, they would ask were the other was.
It seemed that they were mismatched. Max was tall and lean, with a dark complexion and perfect hair. He was an accomplished high school athlete. Tony was the opposite, a little shorter, but chunky with curly reddish hair. Not an athlete at all, he wrote about sports in the high school newspaper. Max was outgoing and had plenty of girlfriends; Tony was shy and had never been on a date. But while uncomfortable around most people, Tony was completely at ease with Max.
They shared thoughts, ideas, hopes and dreams.
Each wondered about the future of the friendship, though, after graduation from high school. Max went to a large state university with a plan to become a chemical engineer. Tony went to a small school with a dream of becoming a math teacher. At first, the two exchanged frequent phone calls and emails, but as they settled in to their respective college lives, each made new friends, studies occupied much of the time, and the contact waned.
Come Thanksgiving break, though, the two were back together and things were as they always had been.
They reunited at Tony's house. Nobody else was home. Tony's mom was out to collect her free turkey from a local supermarket -- a prize for spending $400 in the weeks leading up to the holiday.
They were hanging out in the finished basement, where they shot a little pool and watched some TV. Max, lounging on an old couch in the basement, looked over at Tony, who was sitting on an overstuffed chair that once was in the living room upstairs.
"Hey," Max asked. "Do you think you still have that skill of yours to rub knots out of my shoulder muscles?"
Max had been a three-sport athlete in high school, and was always complaining of sore muscles. In a trade of services, Tony would dig into Max's shoulders and back to ease his pain. In exchange, Max would give Tony what they called the "soft tickle." Tony didn't like the rough, deep-muscle massage stuff. So Max would lightly run his fingertips over Tony's back, which always resulted in huge goosebumps. "I'll give it a try," Tony said, switching over to the couch.
Max sat on the floor in front of him and Tony worked his magic. Max's muscles were super tight, and no amount of pressure was too great for him to endure. Twenty minutes later, Max was loosely rolling his head in circles, moaning in pleasure. "Brother, you are the best," he said. Tony responded by quipping, "my turn."
The chunky Tony pulled off his shirt, something he was reluctant to do in front of anyone else, and switched places with Max. He loved that light touch, and it was quickly evident that Max was as good as ever at it. It was delicious. The touching for each had always been limited to the the back. Tony was a little shocked when Max moved his fingertips to the sides of his neck. As he did, Tony shuddered. "What was that, man?" Max said. "Didn't you like that?" "No," Tony responded. "It felt great, it was just different."
With a low chuckle, Max said, "well, what about this," and he reached down to lift Tony's arms over his head. Tony turned his head, but before he could speak, Max ran his fingertips along Tony's sides, from the tops of his jeans all the way to his armpits. Tony let out a grunt and shook all over. He had never felt anything like that, certainly nothing that had felt so good. Max returned to Tony's back and finished up the tickle.
They returned to watching TV, and not another word was said.
Soon after, Tony's mom, Jenn, returned and she was happy to see Max, who had always pretty much been a fixture around the house.
The three talked about college and what it was like being away from home for the first time. As 5 p.m. rolled around, Tony's dad arrived home and the conversation continued. At one point, Max's mother, Rita, called to announce dinnertime.
"It's just tuna salad," Rita told Max. "I have too much to do for tomorrow to get involved in complicated meal tonight."
As had been the case since forever, Max's decision was based on the menu at Tony's house. Both of the young guys were famous for checking with both moms before deciding where and what to eat.
Jenn had a big pot of chili cooking on the stove, and Max loved her chili. So he stayed for dinner. Afterward, the guys retreated to the basement for more pool and TV, the latter of which inspired them to sleep.
They were stirred to consciousness when Jenn yelled down the stairs. "It's getting late," she said. "Is Max staying?"
That was another regular thing for the two friends, staying at each other's houses as nights grew late. "I'll call my mom," Max responded. "I'll sleep here."
"Here" meant the basement, because Tony's room had only a single bed. It was not a problem, the sofa was a sleeper couch, and Jenn kept sheets and blankets in a cabinet downstairs. That was fine with the guys, who liked to stay up late watching TV without bothering Tony's parents.
They made the bed and stripped down to boxers, the standard sleeping attire for each. Lying there watching an old movie, Max said, "you wouldn't want to work on my back some more, would you?"
"As long as you return the favor," Tony said, laughing.
With the couch open, Tony did as he always did, straddled Max's thighs and attacked his sore back. After about 10 minutes, Max said, "Listen, my quads are killing me. Would you work on them?" That request was something completely new. Tony hesitated, but said OK and rolled off Max's thighs.
Max flipped over, and Tony, hesitating a little, straddled Max's calves and dug into the tops of his thighs. Max responded with sort of a cooing sound, encouraging Tony to "go higher." As Tony reached the bottom edge of Max's boxers, he got a surprise. A tent grew inside the boxers; Max was aroused and had an obvious erection. It was not difficult to determine that reality. Max not only had the gift of a great physique and a perfect face, he was very large "down there." Tony had seen it many times in locker room showers and while getting dressed in each other's houses. But never hard.
Stunned, Tony immediately stopped and stammered, "my turn." Max covered crotch with his hands, but said nothing.
Tony flopped down face first and Max straddled his friend's thighs and began the tickle. That routine had occurred many times, but it was different this time. Tony was trying to concentrate on the tickle, but something was distracting him. Max was still hard, and Tony could feel it against his thigh. He could think of nothing else, except that he was getting hard, too. Tony was happy to be face down.
Max soon finished his tickle, and the two were lying in the bed silently, backs facing. Tony did not want Max to see that he was aroused.
A few minutes later, Max said, "Hey, look here." Rolling back a little, Tony looked at his lifelong buddy. At age 19, for the first time ever, he felt uncomfortable around Max.
"Tony, I have to ask you, do you jack off?" Max inquired.
"No," Tony lied. "Why would I do that. It's weird."
"If you don't, you should," Max said. "I've done it for a while, and it really feels good, especially at the end."
"Well, I don't," Tony blurted out.
"Hey, when you rolled over after the tickle, I saw that you were hard, and I know that you know that I was hard," Max said. "It's OK to let off steam. I was embarrassed to think people would know I did it, but then my roommate ... ."
"Your roommate ...?" Tony said quietly.
"I woke up at school one night and had to go to the bathroom. I sat up in bed to go, and looked across the room and saw him doing it, right in bed," Max whispered.
