My Sleeping Friend

My name is Lynn and my best friend is named Lee. Lee and I first met through a mutual best friend named Michael. Michael and I were counselors together at a summer camp and had instantly become close friends. On our off time, we would visit Michael's parents to wash a load of laundry, grab some home cooked food, and hang out with his long-time best friend, Lee. The next summer, Lee joined us at camp and we became the Three Amigos. Over the next 4 years, we all grew close as friends, enjoyed hikes together, college football, and living life to the fullest. I eventually took a full-time job at the camp and Lee would come up on the weekends to relax from his big-boy job, work weekend retreat groups with me, and spend time with his girlfriend. He stayed with me in my cabin on the nights he was in town.

A few years earlier, Michael and I were talking about life and girls and the subject of being "big enough" came up. Through the conversation, he shared that Lee was "hung like a horse". "It's the biggest I've ever seen!" From that moment on, I thought about it every time I saw Lee...for years.

When Lee stayed over, he would stay with me in my room. It was a very small room, big enough only for a twin bed and a small night stand with not much extra room. Lee always slept on an air mattress next to my bed, which effectively took up the entire floor space.

One night, I was awaked by the intense urge to pee. Forgetting that Lee was on the floor next to me, I stepped out of bed and ended up crashing down on top of him. HE. NEVER. FLINCHED. He always said he was a hard sleeper, but I had to check to see if he was even alive! (He was...obviously, or I wouldn't be writing this.) He didn't lie. I even called his name once I got up to make sure he was ok. I apologized the next morning and he was clueless as to the incident. That experience was the catalyst for everything that happened from there forward.

I quickly devised a plan to test out how "out of it" he really was when he was asleep. The next few weekends, I would stay awake until extremely late in the morning to make sure he was asleep, then would run experiments on him to test his sleep tolerance, if you will. He is a back-sleeper, so it made things a lot easier. I flashed my camera flash in his face, I called his name loudly, I shook him, I prodded him in the chest, stomach, and legs. Nothing. His breathing was constant; never changing rhythm or depth. Nothing would wake him up.

One weekend, I finally worked up the courage to see just how big his cock really was. Big cock or not, Lee was a fine specimen of man. He wasn't too tall, standing at 5'10", but taller than me by 3". He had thick, soft brown hair, olive skin, and the most beautiful blue eyes you've ever gazed into. He was absolutely ripped, with muscular arms and legs (but not too muscular), well-defined abs, lightly hairy in all the right places (across his chest thickest in the center and thinning as it surrounded his quarter-sized nipples and a happy trail down to his thick, natural bush — spoiler alert), a personality of kindness, consideration for others, and incredible patience and that knee-buckling 'V' line that extended from his abs into the land of mystery.

That Friday night, I knew he would be exhausted from a long week at work. I made sure we drank a beer that night as we were shooting the bull after dinner, because one beer was like a grown man's baby bottle for him. He would drink one and be out within the hour. Like clockwork, he was ready to call it a night soon after. We climbed into our respective beds soon thereafter and he was out. I waited a few hours for him to hit deep sleep, then worked up the nerve to start exploring through the thin sheet he used to cover up with. I very slowly, cautiously, and nervously laid my had on his firm stomach to test his sleep. His breathing pattern remained the same, so I decided to move down further to his crotch.

I nervously and shakily moved may hand down to find the waistband of his athletic shorts and boxer briefs. As my fingers inched closer to glory, I could feel his body temperature rise the closer I got to his groin, even through the sheet.

Then, it happened. As I slid my hand further down, I felt that soft, cylinder of flaccid flesh — and it was quite the find! I traced it with my finger tips from the base to the side as it trailed over to his muscular leg. Michael was right; he was definitey packing. As I traced it back, I tried to get a guess on the flaccid girth of his thick member, but the tautness of the three layers between my hand and his dick made it difficult to grasp and get a good idea of how thick he was.

As I continued to attempt to size his member, it became clear that the length of his manhood would no longer be in question, as my fondling had caused it to begin to thicken and swell. As I continued to stroke his cock through the fabric layers, his cock became more and more engorged and began pressing upward against his shorts and would jump and throb as I teased his sensitive cock head with soft pinches.

As the teasing sent waves of electricity through his hardening cock, Lee stirred and I froze in place. His hand reached down under the covers and into his underwear, readjuating his hard dick. He then rolled to his side facing away from me. I was sad, but now I knew exactly what Michael was talking about, even more than he described...and I was determined to find out more. Afterall, he was scheduled to visit almost every weekend for the next 2-3 months and I knew I would have many sleepless nights to reach the ultimate goal of truly knowing exactly how well-hung Lee actually was.