A/N: Hey guys. This is the first story I'm posting here on ff . net but you can read the rest of my stories on adultfanfiction . net under the name Spiraling.
I'd also like to mention, this is the first lemon I've written in... years. And yet it's the best in my opinion :D I hope you all like it, and don't forget to review!
Of all the things I've experienced in my life, my most unexpected and most cherished moment was my very fist sexual experience. It happened in my final year of junior high, on what started out as a completely normal Friday night. My best friend, Chris Chambers, and I walked to his house after school just as we did every day. In my pack I carried my school books as well as a change of clothes and a pair of pajamas. Every Friday night I would stay at Chris's house. Not only was it an excuse to get away from my own parents, who had grown more and more resentful of me in the years after my brother Dennis's death, but Friday and Saturday nights were the only time we could safely hang around the Chambers household without worrying about running into the man of the house; Chris's father may as well have lived at the bar on weekends.
"Eyeball's gonna be out of town this weekend," Chris mentioned as we walked up the dirt driveway toward his small house.
"Really?" I asked. "Where's he going?"
"Ace and his gang are all going to a car show over in Danville."
"Seriously? Too cool." I couldn't help but smile at the thought of not having Chris's older brother or any of his friends around to call us faggots for a whole weekend.
"Yeah. Tonight it'll just be you, me, and my mom. Provided my old man doesn't suddenly get the urge to quit drinking." We laughed at that unlikely image as Chris opened the front door and shouted a greeting to his mother.
"Don't raise your voice in the house!" She yelled back at him, and we shared another, quieter, laugh on the way to Chris's bedroom. We kicked off our shoes, dropped off our school bags in the bedroom and headed back out into the living room to watch television.
"Shouldn't you boys be working on your homework?" Mrs. Chambers asked when she heard us flip through the channels until we found some Mickey Mouse Club reruns.
"Aw, come on, Mom!" Chris said as she entered the room. "We have all weekend to do our homework! We've only got one day to watch TV without Eyeball and his friends barging in and kicking us out." His mother didn't look impressed by his pleas. "Please, Ma? Just a few episodes?"
"Oh, alright," she relented. "You can watch your show until supper's ready, but after we eat you have to get right to work on your homework!"
"Thank you!" we both called as she exited to the kitchen.
We turned our attention back to the television. For the next two hours or so we watched the Mickey Mouse Club reruns, one of us nudging the other and raising our eyebrows whenever Annette or another of our favorite Disney girls came on screen. We made silent, suggestive hand motions and laughed quietly so that Chris's mom wouldn't hear and ask us what was so funny.
"Boys! Time for supper!"
We turned off the TV and hurried into the kitchen, always excited for one of Mrs. Chambers' meals. Chris's mom was the only stereotypically "good" member of the Chambers family. She cooked, she cleaned, and she tried her hardest to keep her boys in line. I liked to believe that Chris got the majority of his genes from his mother.
We sat down at the table to a meal of meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and corn on the cob. The food was just as amazing as always, but on this particular night Mrs. Chambers gave us some unexpected news.
"Would you boys be okay tonight if I left you alone for a few hours?" she asked us out of nowhere.
Chris and I looked at each other. His mother had never left us alone in the house before unless Eyeball was there to "watch" us, not even for ten minutes to run down to the corner store, let alone a few hours. "Seriously?" Chris asked her.
"Of course I'm serious," she replied. "You two are almost fifteen years old. You're more than capable of staying here alone for a bit while I go down to Evvie Chalmers' house to play bridge with the girls." Me and Chris shared another glance. Mrs. Chambers only had one vice: gambling.
"Sure," Chris said. "We'd be fine."
Mrs. Chambers wiped her mouth daintily on her napkin as she stood from the table and collected our plates. "Okay then boys, I'll be leaving as soon as the dishes are done. Now you run up to Chris's room and do your homework!"
We did as we were told and made our way to Chris's bedroom at the front of the house, where we unpacked our school bags and got ready to do our homework. Just as we were about to start, we heard Mrs. Chambers' car engine fire up. Chris stood from his spot on the floor and ran over to the window, watching until he saw his mother's car pull out of the driveway and into the street.
"Hey, man, c'mon," Chris whispered, heading toward the door.
"Where are you going?" I asked, standing from the bed and following him out into the living room.
"Gonna see if my old man left any cigarettes in his bureau."
I watched from the hallway as Chris dug through his parents' room in search of cigs. "Aha!" he shouted, pulling a pack of Winstons out of his father's top dresser drawer. He pulled two out of the pack, offered one to me, then stuck it back in the box when I shook my head. We went out back and sat in the grass as Chris lit up his cigarette and inhaled deeply.
"Man, you don't know what you're missing," he said to me, letting the smoke flow out of his mouth slowly. I never admitted it to anyone, not even to Chris himself, but at this point in time I had knowingly been attracted to my best friend for a little over a year. It started as simple feelings, a slight knowledge that I liked him as more than just a good friend. The feelings developed little by little, and it took me a while to figure out exactly what they were. I didn't begin to fully understand it until puberty finally hit me, and I started to notice that I was physically attracted to Chris as well. It was just little moments like this, when he could be so sensuous without even trying, that drove my hormones wild.
I watched Chris's lips move as he exhaled, but diverted my attention when he made eye contact with me. We sat in silence for a few minutes as he finished his smoke. It was as he was rubbing the remnants of his cigarette butt into the ground that he asked me a question that I never expected to hear from him. Or at least, not for a few more years.
"So, Gordo. Have you done it yet?"
"Done what?" I asked, nothing if not naive.
"You know," he replied as we stood from the grass. "It. Sex."
"Uh, no," I said dumbly. We went back into the house and locked the back door behind us. "Why? Have you?"
He didn't reply for a few moments, and I thought he wasn't going to tell me. Either that, or he was going to tell me that he had. "Nah," he replied eventually. "Nah, I haven't either."
We settled back into his bedroom to start our homework, Chris sprawled out on the floor and me sitting on his bed. Both of us finished our work relatively quickly, with the exception of Chris's math homework. Math was always his least favorite subject.
"God damn, I don't understand any of this!" he shouted in frustration, picking up his mathematics textbook and slamming it back onto the floor. We had just gotten to the section about Geometry, and Chris had been having trouble with it from the get-go. "A triangle is a fucking triangle! Why the hell do we have to prove it?"
"Here," I replied. "Hand me your book." Chris sat up and knelt next to the bed, laying his book open on the bedspread. I rolled over so that I was laying on my stomach, overlooking Chris and the book. "First of all, what information is given in the problem?"
I explained it for him step-by-step, putting as much of my explanation as possible into my own words rather than using the exact wording that was in the book, like our teacher usually did. Chris gave a few "Uh-huh"s and "Yeah"s when I paused, but mostly remained quiet as I spoke.
"Does that make sense?" I asked when I had finished the problem. I looked up as I questioned Chris, and found myself to be about three inches from his face. Our eyes locked, and I couldn't stop myself from holding my friend's gaze. I didn't realize until that moment that he had been watching me from this small distance the entire time I had been speaking.
"Yeah," Chris said softly. "It makes a lot of sense now." Then he leaned forward, and he kissed me.
For a moment, I was in shock. Sure, I had feelings for Chris. Sure, I felt the stirrings of attraction to him every now and then. I had never really fantasized about Chris the way we had fantasized about girls when we were younger however, and I definitely never thought that anything would actually happen between he and I.
After a few seconds of me being unresponsive as he held his lips against mine, Chris pulled away. He tried to regain eye contact with me, but I couldn't help but look away.
"I'm sorry, Gordie," he muttered, backing away slightly. "I don't know what came over me, man."
I was speechless. The only thing I could think to say was, "It's okay." I looked back at Chris and met his eyes again. The look on his face is what did me in. He looked ashamed of himself. For the first time in all the years I'd known Chris Chambers, he looked like he truly regretted something he'd done. That was when I got over my shock, leaned in, and kissed him again.
It took Chris all of two seconds to realize what was going on and kiss me back. It wasn't until he started moving his lips that I realized I didn't know how to kiss, and I was thankful when he easily took control of the situation, just like he took control of everything else that confronted him.
I fell right into the rhythm Chris set and enjoyed my first real kiss. At the time I thought it ended much too soon, but looking back on it now it seems that we had been joined at the lips for ages. When Chris finally pulled away we were both breathing heavily, and I wasn't able to do much other than stare at my friend's face.
"Scoot over," Chris said when he caught his breath, picking his math book up off the bed and tossing it onto the floor. I did as he asked, rolling over until my back was against the wall, and Chris joined me on the bed. He had a twin size bed, and it felt awkward for both of us to be laying on our sides, faces pointed toward each other and less than six inches apart. I sat up to put some distance between us then turned so that I was facing him again. Chris merely rolled onto his back and brought his arms up, lacing his fingers behind his head.
"Not too shabby, Lachance," he said with a smirk. "I didn't know you could kiss."
"Thanks, I learned from your mother," I retorted. We both laughed and the tension started to melt away.
We were quiet for a few moments before Chris asked, "So do you wanna do it?"
I almost asked 'Do what?' again, until I remembered his earlier question. "Nah," I said sarcastically. "I was planning on dying a virgin."
Chris scoffed and looked away. "That's not what I meant," he muttered. My eyebrows furrowed for a second as I tried to figure out what he did mean. Then it hit me.
"What, now?" I asked him, bewildered. "With you?"
He shrugged. "Sure, why not? I mean, we just kissed. If either one of us said we didn't enjoy it we'd be lying. My mom's not gonna be back from bridge until who knows when. God knows my old man's not gonna be home any time soon..." Chris trailed off, then looked up at me and smirked again. "You know, unless you're too scared to fuck another guy." He winked as he continued, "I'll even be bottom if you're too much of a pussy to."
There it was, the ultimate instigator among teenage boys. Tell a boy he's too pussy to do something, and he'll do it almost every time.
"Yeah, right," I said to Chris. "Like I'd be so cruel as to make you take the biggest dick in four counties up your ass."
"There's no way you're bigger than me, Lachance!" Chris exclaimed.
"Oh really?"
"Really."
"Well then how about you stop talking and start proving it?"
Almost as soon as the words were out of my mouth Chris sat up, shoved me onto my back, and started kissing me again. He had me pinned, with a hand on each of my wrists and his body on top of mine, and I was fine with that. As our lips moved against each other and I felt Chris's tongue sliding against my own, it felt like a dream. A very elaborate and explicit dream, but a dream nonetheless. It seemed so unreal to think that I was actually laying in my best friend's bed, with him on top of me, considering having sex with him. And yet, as insane as it seemed, I was excited by the idea. Chris wasn't just my best friend, he was another guy. If either of our fathers found out we'd get hided for sure, if not disowned and kicked out. Just thinking about it made me moan into the kiss.
Oh, to be young and rebellious.
We broke apart for air and Chris sat up until he was sitting on my lap, then pulled me up with him. He pulled my shirt up and off over my head, tossing it haphazardly onto the floor along with our school things. I returned the favor and we fell into another kiss. Chris was on top of me again, but this time he was grinding his crotch into mine. At first it felt amazing, but as my dick grew stiffer the friction caused by our underwear and jeans got to be too much.
"Stop, stop," I rasped, out of breath. Chris froze and started to pull away, but I grabbed him by the waist of his jeans and pulled him back. I looked him in the eyes and silently brought my hands to the front of his pants. I popped the button out of place and pulled his zipper down. He inhaled slowly as he watched me push his pants down his hips to reveal his hard member encased in white cotton. He stood from the bed and pulled his pants all the down, then bent over to unbutton my jeans. I lifted my butt off of the bed and allowed him to pull my pants off and toss them into the growing pile of clothing in the corner.
He laid back down on top of me and began to roll his hips into mine again, but at a much slower pace. The slow speed drove me even crazier than the fast-paced grinding from moments before. To keep myself from moaning again, I pulled Chris down in for another kiss. As we kissed, the rolling of our hips grew less rhythmic and more random, but I was okay with that as long as his lips stayed on mine.
He pulled away from the kiss sooner than before and asked, "Are you ready?"
"Yeah," I replied, without hesitation. My voice sounded a lot more confident than I felt, but I wasn't going to back out now. I wanted this just as much as Chris did. As these thoughts raced through my mind, Chris stood once again and this time removed his underwear. He reached for my hand, pulled me up, and I followed suit. For a few moments we stood there quietly, both of us in all our naked glory, looking each other up and down. I desperately wanted to reach out and touch him, run my hands over his chest, down his sides, up his back and back down his arms. I wanted to place my hands on his hips, pull him against me, and hold him there. I wanted to reach up and run my hands through his hair, which had grown thick and past his ears over the past couple of years. But instead of doing any of those things, I just stood there and let my eyes roam over his body, taking in every single detail before returning to his face. We locked eyes and he placed a hand on my chest, gently pushing me back onto the bed.
I laid down on my back, with my head on the pillow. Chris was above me on his hands and knees, hovering for a few moments before telling me to spread my legs and situating himself in between them. I propped myself up on my elbows to get a better view as Chris parted my legs a little further and inspected my groin.
"So... how are we gonna do this?" I asked. Chris jumped a little bit, as if he hadn't expected me to talk about what we were doing. He looked up at me like I was speaking German.
"I mean, don't we need something for... lubrication?" I couldn't believe I had asked such a question of my best friend. It still seemed so unreal that we were about to have sex.
"Well," Chris replied, looking down in what seemed to be embarrassment, "I was thinking I could just... get myself going a little, if you know what I mean?" He looked up for just a second, then looked back down to his lap. I followed his gaze and, after making sure I was watching, Chris grabbed hold of his dick and began slowly pumping his fist up and down his length. Every time he made it to the tip he would squeeze, forcing a clear liquid out of his hole. He used his thumb to smear the liquid over the head of his penis, moaning quietly as he did so. As I sat there, watching my best friend masturbate, I did the only thing I could think to do. I joined in.
My right hand found my length and took hold of it, my eyes following the movement of Chris's hand over his own member. I moaned quietly, more at the sight of Chris pleasuring himself than at my own touch. Chris heard me and looked up, a look of extreme surprise taking over his face as he realized what I was doing. A small part of my brain told me I should stop, or should at least show remorse for jacking off at the sight of my male best friend doing the same. A much larger part of my brain told me to look Chris straight in the eye, sit up all the way, reach out, and finish him off myself.
The latter part won.
Chris seemed frozen as I sat up, but gladly moved his hand out of the way as I wrapped my own hand around his manhood. I stroked his length a few times, squeezing the tip as he had done and smearing his pre-cum over the first inch or two of his dick. Chris's head rolled back and his eyes slid shut as he let out a quiet moan. I couldn't help but smile at the reaction I had coaxed out of my friend. I picked up the pace a little bit, continuing to squeeze the head on every trip up.
"Fuck, Gordie," Chris moaned after another few minutes, voice barely above a whisper. "I'm gonna blow if you keep this up much longer." I squeezed one last time for good measure, then let go. Chris sat there panting quietly for a few moments before he gently pushed me back into a laying position. I bent my knees and parted my legs again, allowing him full access to my groin. He scooted in close and gently parted my buttcheeks, then pressed the leaking head of his dick against my opening. He wiped his tip on my anus for a few seconds, moistening it up as much as possible, and the feeling made me tense up. He must have felt it because he stopped for a second, reached his hand up and splayed his fingers across my chest.
"Don't worry, Gordo," he said softly. "I'm not going to hurt you." The look on his face was so completely honest, I couldn't help but relax. Chris gave a small smile, then gently pressed against my ass once more. I took a deep breath and urged myself to stay relaxed. Chris watched my face carefully as he pushed forward, easing the tip of his member into my body. At first, it wasn't entirely painful. Just a sort of uncomfortable feeling. It was strange to feel a part of someone else's body inside of my own, especially knowing that it was Chris inside of me.
"You okay?" Chris asked, and I nodded silently. He pushed in a little farther, and I winced a bit. The deeper inside Chris got, the more it started to hurt, and I couldn't help but tense up again. Chris stopped in place and slowly pulled back until it was just his tip again. He stayed there for a few moments, then pushed back in to where he was before. The second time around it hurt slightly less, and he repeated the motion a few times until my body got used to the feeling of him inside of me. After a few minuntes, Chris asked me again if I was okay.
"Yeah," I replied quietly, and he pushed forward a little more. This time it wasn't as bad because I was expecting the pain when it hit. I didn't tense up as much, but Chris repeated the process of slowly pulling back and pushing back forward until I was comfortable with the intrusion. We continued on in this pattern until finally, mercifully, Chris's length was entirely inside of me.
"How does it feel?" Chris asked once he was completely seated within me. I could tell from the look on his face that it felt much better for him than it did for me. It looked like he was using every last bit of willpower he had to stay still.
"It's... weird," I replied. I experimented with clenching my butt cheeks and winced a little bit. Chris let out a gasp at the tightening. "It doesn't really hurt unless I do that, but even then the pain's not that bad."
"Does it feel good at all?" he asked, sounding a little disappointed that it wasn't as immediately pleasing for me as it was for him.
"Well like I said, it doesn't feel bad. I wouldn't say it feels good, but it doesn't feel bad."
At this point Chris had a hand on each of my thighs, holding them apart. He let go of one of them and reached forward to take hold of my penis, which had gotten soft in the time that had passed since we undressed. He began slowly pumping my length and the pleasure was so great that I forgot about my anal intrusion almost immediately. For some reason it seemed to feel so much better when it was someone else's hand sliding up and down my hardening member. To this day, none of the women I've been with could compare to Chris Chambers in the hand job department, but that's another story for another day.
I allowed my eyes to slip closed and my head to sink into the pillow as my body relaxed and I surrenderd myself to the pleasure provided by Chris's hand. After a minute or two of this bliss I began to feel Chris slowly pulling out until once again only his tip was inside of me and then pushing back in, all in the rythm of his hand movements. It was a brilliant idea, because the pleasure far outweighed the pain and Chris's hip movements became barely noticable compared to his hands. I opened my eyes to see Chris carefully watching my face.
"Feel better?" he asked hoarsely, obviously putting effort into keeping his thrusts slow and deliberate.
"Much," I replied. It was pretty much all I could manage to croak out through the barrage of sensation. I closed my eyes again as Chris picked up speed in both his hips and hands and I sank further into the pleasure he was providing me with. Something happened then, when I closed my eyes that second time. It wasn't one of those moments where you feel like time slowed to a near standstill, although at times I wish I would have been able to experience this moment in slow motion. No, it seemed more to me like time sped up; every feeling, every sound, every smell, every single aspect of our intercourse suddenly seemed intensified. I was still aware of Chris's hand on my dick, but it was no longer as overwhelming as it had been. It no longer drowned out every other sensation fighting for my body's attention. I could feel Chris's hips moving against the insides of my thighs, and the nails of his left hand digging into the back of my right thigh. I could hear his labored breathing, and the soft squeaking of the bed beneath us. I could smell the first salty fumes as he began to sweat. It was all slightly intoxicating
In this state of heightened sensory awareness I could more clearly feel Chris sliding in and out of my body, his pace having sped up significantly by this point. I was aware of the friction between us but the pain wasn't there, which made it much easier for me to appreciate the feeling of my friend inside of me. My butt cheeks clenched of their own free will, and I heard Chris gasp in pleasure and surprise as he involuntarily jerked his hips, thrusting deeper into me than he had been consciously trying to. That was when he found a special little place that I later learned was called the prostate. I gasped at the (extremely) unexpected wave of pleasure. My eyes snapped open. Chris froze in place. That was what broke the extrasensory spell.
"What's wrong?" Chris panted, still unmoving. I shook my head, reluctant to admit out loud that nothing was wrong. Reluctant to admit that it had actually been very good. Chris watched me with a calculating gaze and I felt my cheeks heat up under his speculation. He must have figured it out for himself because he pressed forward a little further, once again brushing that little bundle of nerve endings. I inhaled sharply, unable to hide the pleasured look that overtook my face. I half expected him to laugh and call me a faggot, because now that I had been brought back to reality it was starting to seem very unreal all over again. But that didn't happen. He didn't say anything about the newfound sweet spot, and looking back on it now I'm glad he didn't. He realized more clearly than I did that even the slightest acknowledgement of it would have been embarrassing for not only me, but for us both. I never got the chance to thank him for that; I could never bring myself to speak of it. I hope he knew how much I appreciated it.
As the shockwave passed and the pleasure subsided, Chris removed his right hand from my length and got his grip back on my left thigh before pulling out and quickly pushing forward until he hit the nerve pile again. He regained his momentum and in no time at all I was panting along with him, feeling just as much pleasure as before even without the stimulus of my penis. Without his arm in the way Chris was able to lean forward for better leverage, until I could feel his stomach against my dick - which felt almost as nice as his hand, as odd as it sounds. He moved his hands from my thighs and slid them underneath his pillow, one on each side of my head. I released my hold on the bedsheets - which I hadn't realized I'd been clinging to until this point - and brought them up to rest on Chris's shoulders. We locked eyes for a few moments, making eye contact for the first time during the act itself. Part of me wanted to look away, or at least close my eyes again, but something about the look in Chris's eyes wouldn't let me. His eyes held mine in place, and I couldn't bring myself to look away.
It didn't take long after that. Chris's attack on my prostate combined with the gentle sliding of his stomach against my leaking dick and the occasional brush of his stomach or chest against my own drove my hormones mad. It occurred to me then for the first time that for a couple of teenage boys, and virgins on top of that, we had been going at it for quite a while. I was honestly surprised that Chris hadn't finished yet. As soon as the thought flew through my mind I felt the familiar feeling of an oncoming orgasm swirling up in my groin, magnified about a hundred times compared to what I felt when it was my own hand bringing me off. My breath hitched and I was finally able to break away from Chris's gaze as my eyes rolled back into my head. My back arched and the majority of my torso was pressed flush against Chris's as my adolescent seed spilled out in between us. My body stiffened and almost immediately I felt a warm flood invade my body as Chris's hips jerked against my ass. He thrust deeply a few more times as he used my body to milk himself dry, and I was actually okay with it.
Once he was spent, Chris collapsed on top of me. We lay there, both panting, for maybe ten minutes before Chris got the strength up to pull himself out of me and roll over so that we were instead laying next to each other. We met each others' half-lidded eyes and I felt a strong need to kiss him, but that would have made it more than just an experiment between friends. I grudgingly kept my distance. After a few more minutes of laying in silence, Chris chuckled.
"I don't know about you," he said, "but I think I learned more in the past half hour than I'll ever learn in Mr. Crooks' math class."
We burst out laughing, then stood to clean ourselves up.