Note - Unlike my other writing, this does contain an element of fiction.
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The GEN light started blazing red, the classic VW bus warning for an overheating motor, as the same belt which spins the generator drives the fan to cool the motor. This was a bad stretch of road for this to happen, with absolutely nowhere to pull off from the hilly, curvy narrow pavement lined by drainage ditches. Running late in a very casual sense, and deciding that getting close enough to walk was as good a reason as any to keep going, instead of pulling off at the very first chance and replacing the belt after letting the motor cool for a good half hour.
Parking less than a couple of minutes after the GEN light burned red, I walked a mile or so to visit Mike and Lena, as more or less planned.
In the past, Mike and I had jacked off together, often enough 2 or 3 times in a week, generally in one house or the other, but also occasionally outdoors in the woods. Playboy, then Penthouse in its most glorious age of writing and photography (OK, maybe a bit too much Vaseline on the lens), and then Hustler and other harder porn used to get us off as we got older, as did watching each other at times - this is undoubtedly where I acquired my fascination with watching and getting turned on by another man's hard cock while stroking my own. We actually read and learned things from Playboy or Penthouse while sharing orgasms, one tidbit very fondly remembered was information in Playboy about a locker room scent odorizer, sometime around 1978 or so. We never touched each other, but the first time either of us tried on Trojan lubricated condoms over our stiff dicks we both ended up pumping the latex full of white semen while fantastically orgasming. We also shared the experience of stroking a cock's rigid shaft and swollen head with Vaseline jelly, or the quite different but still very enjoyable yellow Vaseline Intensive Care Lotion (or something like that), while getting off to some very explicit porn he had found. We had shared many orgasms together over several years.
Neither of us had any experience with women at the time, and as we kept having more opportunities to discover how wonderful women were, the less interesting such teenaged games seemed. An echo remains in my current life, though a glory hole should not be a teenage game - it is far too diverting, too simple, and too good at just getting off gloriously with another man, whose own hard cock leads naturally to understanding the pleasures men can share with their cocks. Add grass and something really raw sexually like Rush, and the decadent temptation would be impossible to resist, over and over again. And since a glory hole is fairly straightforward, it doesn't allow for much development into what makes sex more than merely a physical pleasure.
Mike's girlfriend at the time was Lena, an attractive woman, whose physical charms were delightfully enhanced in my eyes with a somewhat European attitude, having done some singing in Southern Europe as a university student. She had enjoyed living in another country for a year with virtually no possessions, and enjoying various opportunities to learn about other people. Dirty blond, older at 28 to our 24, her nice, smallish tits hung like a real woman's, with nipples in fine proportion to the rounding of each breast. Lena wasn't embarrassed of them, and the occasional view down her blouse, or through a thin t-shirt, or as she got dressed with her breasts hanging free was just another reason among many she was a good friend - I much prefer knowing women with that attitude, rare as they are in the U.S. Her taste in music was another pleasure to share, and her basic approach to many things was a reminder of my own time in Europe. She rarely wore make up or a bra, was well aware of how attractive her own scent could be, with a matter of fact attitude to many things which still made me awkward, though at least I had started learning how to be less concerned.
After more or less getting them up with my somewhat scheduled and more or less expected arrival, we all just hung out - another reason I hadn't stopped driving until it was safe was some of the personal property being transported was not exactly government approved. As we all tended to share to the same taste in what we smoked, sharing had become more common among us, since things were starting to get spottier at the time - the mid-80s were not a good time in many ways, especially for high quality grass at a decent price. Neither of them had a car, generally an advantage while living in a city, and stopping by was another way to share, as VW buses carry a fair amount. The apartment had a decent amount of space to use for storage, and shopping for a couple of weeks was easy to do - and since I didn't need the bus, leaving it for them was simple - or Lena, actually, since Mike didn't have a valid license at that time.
We got stoned while they sprawled comfortably in the roomy and domestically rumpled bed near the center of the large space where they lived, talking, drinking coffee - some of my first espresso was brewed by Lena, who learned in Italy. She was still wearing the very loose and thin t-shirt she had slept in, without panties, as I could see her darker patch of pubic hair under the material, and Mike nude, until he pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms when getting up to work in the kitchen space cleaning up. Such a luxury, hours with nothing to do but hang around, listen to music, talk - and in my case, simply wait for the motor to cool. This was a fairly routine job at this point, and it shouldn't take long.
The work didn't take long in fact, and when I came back in something less than thre quarters of an hour, the screen door was still unlocked, with the inner front door still open, and I went in after knocking solidly a few times. As I stepped past the entrance's indoor 'porch'/storage area, the door leading to the rest of the apartment, with its large open area, was wide open, the way it had been left. I stopped, and just started to look, instead of announcing myself again by knocking or calling. My eyes had somewhat adjusted from the bright blue sky of the late spring morning, so the contrast to the dimness of the interior was fading into a softer glow.