Jason Remembers the Good Old Days

Dearest Nick,

I still remember that camping trip. It was about the billionth time we had camped out in your back yard, but it was a life changer. I'll never forget it, or forget you. We had marched out nearly a mile in the hot sun, into the field and all the way back to the stream. We were taking turns carrying the tent, because we were both already bogged down with all of our other crap, but I remember you carried it the longest because you were bigger and stronger. You were my best friend and my boyhood idol. I guess you still are.

The picture is almost burned into my head. You were the big muscular lacrosse player; you had about thirty pounds of it on me, with short blonde hair and deep blue eyes. I was a bit smaller, on the track team, with medium length wavy brown hair and brown eyes to match. We sure were a sight for the ladies! Of course, you had much more experience than me. I was never quite sure why that was, maybe you were bolder, but you taught me all I know.

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.

You pulled away, kneeling next to me and looked at the dumb expression of ecstasy on my face change to one of wonderment. "Heh" you laughed, "You think that felt good? Just wait for this." It was enticing, and honestly, I didn't want to wait. You lifted up my legs and sat upright beneath them Indian style, pulling me toward you and hooking my legs behind your head. Taking my cock in your rugged hand again, and slowly pulling on it, you put your tongue against the sensitive spot beneath my balls and licked right up over them and up my shaft, bobbing down on it again until I had no more cock for you to suck. This time I couldn't hold back a loud moan and a muscle spasm in my legs. You knew just where I liked it, where I had dreamt of feeling the soft slippery caress of a tongue. You repeated the process quite a few more times, covering my privates in warm spit, feeling me jerk and spasm with pleasure. Then you really surprised me. You hade never even talked about it before, but I had just enough of my own knowledge to know; you were giving me a rim job. That slippery skillful tongue of yours was dancing around my asshole while your manly grip yanked on my cock again. You penetrated me, and I let out a moan like a yelp. I shook and twitched in ecstasy and came to orgasm just as the full length of your tongue entered my virgin ass.

You let down my legs and lapped up the cum I had spilled over my chest and stomach while I recovered from that mind-blowing orgasm. I started to tell you how amazing that was and thanked you for showing me, but you cut me off, "Shut up. It's my turn, roll over." I had never experienced such an attitude from you, and in some remote section of my mind it frightened me, but then, it had turned me on. I rolled over, stupidly remaining splayed out. You pulled at my hips until I was up on my knees. I felt the hot tip of your giant cock against my still wet asshole, and for a moment I was worried. I had never done this before, never even thought about it, but you were about to fuck me and there was nothing I could do about it. Fortunately, you didn't give me time to protest. You pushed hard against me and started slowly filling my ass with your stiff cock. My eyes watered a little, the stretching was painful, but I loved it. I loved what you did to me, and how you did it. You pushed further, and the wetness your tongue had made didn't go far enough in, you rubbed, unlubricated, against the sides of my anus, and I loved it. Further and further you entered, pushing with your hips and pulling with your muscular arms, as I got used to the pain and started to relax. I let out a cry of relief when your balls tapped me and your stomach slapped my ass, you would start to fuck me. You pulled out in one long stroke and shoved your way back in. The first few strokes were tough, but I loosened up quickly. You moaned loud while you fucked me, in long hard strokes. I loved the feel of your hipbones jabbing me in the ass each time you pulled me back and thrust your hardness into me. Your moaning grew louder, and your fucking faster, and I felt the throb of your penis inside me as you squirted your load into my now deflowered anus. I remember scooping some of it up as it dripped out and tasting the bitter goo. I loved you for it.

I haven't seen you in over three years. My wife is dull and uncompromising in bed. I wish you were here to spice things up.

Yours truly,

Jason