Names Changed to Protect the Not-So-Innocent!



My name is Michael. I am a very straight athletic kind of guy. But this is the story of the first time I messed around with another straight guy, my buddy Trey from across the street.

First you should know a little bit about both of us that summer. I was 16, a rising high school junior, quarterback on the junior varsity football team, and deeply in love with my sexy but frustratingly pure girlfriend Kathy.

Even though I constantly thought about sex and making Kathy squeal with delight from the powerful athletic boy sex I was saving for her, I was still a virgin. Kathy believed she was "worth waiting for" and I have to admit I agreed. I was willing to wait. My fantasies had revolved around her since my first boner. And I had had a crush on her since we were little kids in the same neighborhood, playing basketball and tag together.

As committed as she was to waiting, she DID love to flirt and tease and drive me crazy. As insane as she made me, I also have to admit I enjoyed being taunted. The sexual tension was a major part of our relationship. If she didn't have me hard and horny and on the verge of hormonal frenzy she didn't feel she was doing her job to test my virtue. Yeah, it was kind of mean, but we both loved it. God I loved her and the way she got me going.

Trey was 14 and my neighbor directly across the street and a rising sophomore. Even though we were only one year apart in school and two years or so in age, I was much stronger and bigger, and more athletic than Trey.

I was about 5 foot 9 and 160 pounds of firm young boy muscles in the full prime of puberty-smooth, tan, decently toned firm boy muscles, and as full of ego and testosterone as any he-man stud who ever walked the planet. I had--and still have-a majorly inflated ego. I am the kind of guy who poses in front of the mirror to admire my own bod, my face, my brown hair parted down the middle. Yeah I am out of control, but, hey, at least I can poke fun at myself about it. The point for this story though is that it is no exaggeration to say I was sort of a hero to young Trey.

Trey was shorter and very skinny, but his low body fat gave excellent definition to his muscles. His main sport interest was basketball and he was fairly talented and a starter his freshman year. I would say he was about 5 foot 6 and around 125 pounds. That's right, nothing but skin, bones, and very lean boy muscles. He was also cute as hell with blue eyes and crew cut blonde hair.

Almost all my time with Trey involved sports and physical activity.

Swimming, punching the boxing bag in my garage, lifting weights and spotting each other. It was always funny, and hot, to watch his skinny arms and lean pecs shake and tremble as they flexed doing the bench press. We also played basketball a lot in each other's driveways-always shirtless, cause that is the studly thing to do.

But our favorite fun was always my trampoline. Besides jumping, flips, dancing like maniacs to hyper music, and other tricks, the tramp to us was the perfect boxing ring and wrestling mat-an arena for straight boy hero athletes.

I was and am into both boxing and wrestling, but never did either sport in school. I just thought it was fun to mess around with Trey and some of my other friends on sleep overs. The trampoline was a great place to sleep on summer nights too, camping out under the stars.

While it was also easy for me to dominate Trey at boxing and wrestling, I would leave my midsection unguarded so he got a few good punches in and I could flex my abdominals enough to take his punches and just grunt enough to let him know he got me. This sort of thing kept his spirits up just enough. He had lots of heart but I pounded the hell out of us lean young bod so many times I just felt he deserved a few good ones.

On wrestling, after I would get him pinned and he absolutely could not break free, he would eventually just say "break" and I would let him go and we started the grappling all over again-usually wrestling till we were both dripping in sweat and our muscles were so sore we could barely move. It was a major workout, especially during the heat of the summer.

A major part of the wrestling was also the tickling and torture. Once I would get Trey pinned or in a hold, I would tickle or torture him while he tried to break free. Trey had zero willpower when it came to tickling, especially under his arms, which were still smooth and hairless. Holding him helpless and tickle taunting him to the verge of insanity, making him flex and squirm and beg was a major thrill.

As you might imagine, all of this close physical contact made us "straight" boys horny. I always had a major erection during these matches and most of the time I could tell from sight or the feel of my leg against his crotch that Trey did too.

Sometimes I almost creamed my shorts holding his squirming young bod helpless, tickle torturing him almost to muscle spasms. But neither of us EVER said anything about having boners or being sexually aroused by our boy hero straight stud wrestling. But I am sure this is the main reason Trey let me whup up on him so much. He loved it. It got his boy dick hard and throbbing to have his buddy Michael working him over.

That is as far as it all went, until THE day where I tried something.

Inspired by a cool gay guy I meet on the Internet (a long and different story) who had been doing his best to get me to admit I was at the very least bi, I finally decided to test Trey's interest.

I was scared as hell. But my teen hormones were winning out over fear.

Kathy's decision we should both hold off on anything that might lead to going all way (she wouldn't even touch me below the waist) had me frustrated beyond belief, especially when she flirted and taunted me relentlessly, amused at the idea of how easy it was to keep her stud boyfriend horny. And, in talking to this Internet guy, I was very in touch with the fact that Trey and our wrestling was turning me on as well.

So one night Trey came over for a planned sleep over. After video games, a movie, and normal stuff we headed out to the tramp with pillows, boxing gloves, and sleeping bags. I was rock hard in my umbros and boxer briefs just thinking about it all day. We were shirtless, of course, planning feats of stud warrior wrestling with each other till we collapsed.

Trey was hyper too, taunting me about how I was "going down" this time.

I just laughed and thought to myself, he may not be a hunky he-man muscle stud yet but he is all heart and he hates to give up. It made me want his blonde crew cut, cute-faced, studly smooth lean boy bod more.

All the times I had seen near orgasmic expressions on Trey's face from his manly boy exertions as he maxed out his muscles trying to break a wrestling hold while I tortured his ticklish body, made we want to see Trey orgasm right in front of me. I wanted to make Trey's studly teen dick cream a load.

After padding the springs on the trampoline with our pillows and sleeping bags, I sprang on Trey, taking him down without warning. The boy grunted and our muscle flexing combat began immediately. It is hard to describe in detail how hot wrestling was and is for us.

Our lean muscle-flexing shirtless upper bodies on each other-hands and arms touching and feeling straining legs, arms, pecs, abs, ticklish ribs, and arching backs. I get horny just thinking about it. And yet, to me, it was the studliest most straight-guy athletic thing to do in the world. Nothing we did was what we thought of as gay. We just knew it was a rush and couldn't get enough of each other.

After enough straining and groping to get us both good and sweaty I put Trey in my personally-developed tickle hold as planned. Imagine this. Trey's sweaty boy body sprawled on his back, and me lying on my side right alongside him, with his arm closest to me pinned under my ribs, my full weight on it. My legs scissor-locked around his, holding them together. My bottom arm, shoulder against mat reaching underneath his head and hand grabbing his bicep-flexing thin upper arm in my fist, holding his arm firmly above his head. In this position, because of my strength, Trey has no escape and he always knew it. It also exposes one of his bare armpits to merciless tickling with my remaining free hand-not to mention an occasional dig tickle to his pecs or unprotected abs, sometimes even a stomach punch or two, or three, or four.

I had Trey right where I wanted him. But, typically, he was not ready to give up. He was still squirming and flexing and grunting and trying to be a boy hero and break free. Desperation was also sinking in. He knew the tickle torture was coming.

"Oh mannnnnn," he moaned in anticipation. "Tickling is way unfair, man. It is like cheating."

"Are you giving up?" I taunted.

"No, fuck you," he squirmed in protest. "I can take it."

I laughed and began to softly stroke his exposed bare pit. A few strokes and he was going wild, desperately flexing his boy muscles to protect his ticklish flesh. He tried to pull his arm down, flexing his pec desperately, but my hand had a firm grip on his bicep and my arm was solidly braced underneath his own head.

Trey did his best to stifle himself so as not to wake the entire neighborhood, but he could not help making some desperate noises of panic. His breathing raced. His chest heaved, his lean young pectoral muscles stretched and contracted to the maximum. I had him good and I was going to keep him like this as long as I could, praying he wouldn't call "break" and end it.

I could also feel Trey's growing young erection rubbing my leg now. Yep, he was hard. And so was I. But he didn't know that. Trey loved being tickle tortured and dominated as much as I liked toying with him and driving him nuts. That is why he didn't call "break" even in this hopeless situation.

Finally, putting my plan into action, about the time his boy grunts were turning to weakened desperate whines, I deliberately raised my top knee to his crotch area and rubbed his bulging boy package, nudging his throbbing penis underneath his shorts and briefs.

"Hey," I said curiously and with tone of deviousness. "What is this stud? You horny? You getting off on this?"

Even in the dark I could tell Trey was blushing in embarrassment. I had noticed and mentioned something we had both sort of ignored by an unspoken agreement. This was the moment of truth. Trey was silent as he could be, both of our bodies tense and flexing in anticipation. I could smell his sweet teen sweat.

Trey held his breath as I moved my hand down his ribs and his smooth tummy muscles, pressing my palm flat on his stomach. I nudged his crotch with my knee again, rubbing his rock hard boy cock between my knee and his abdomen. He groaned in pleasure, but said nothing and made no effort to resist.

"Hey, its cool, wrestling makes me hard too," I offered, sympathizing with his panic, wanting to reassure him. "Man your dick is hard as a rock. Guess we are both pretty horny."

"Yeah," Trey said, his voice wavering nervously.

"I can't stop thinking about Kathy and sports always give me a boner," I offered. "Just part of being a stud I guess."

"Yeah," Trey grunted more confidently.

"But a real man in my opinion know how to hold his load no matter how good it feels," I said devilishly. "Don't you agree Trey?"

"Uh, yeah I guess so," Trey responded, confused, as he continued a futile effort to squirm his left arm free of my grip. "What the fuck is your point Michael?"

"My point is I got you in a position here to test your manly stamina punk," I laughed, nudging his boy cock again with my knee. "If you cream your shorts, you lose just as if you gave up. New rules."

"What???" Trey exclaimed, almost too loud for our neighborhood, then stifling himself, then groaning in nervous pleasure from the intense nudging started by my knee.

"Ohhhh mannnn," he started to moan, his body writhing in pleasure, still locked in my hold. I put some pressure on his rock hard boy penis, pressing my knee down hard on his shaft, pushing it against his firm abdomen, rubbing up and down his strong young cock trapped inside his workout shorts.

"Come on stud," I whispered. "Take it like a man. Don't wimp out and blow you load. Don't cream your shorts Trey buddy. No matter how good it feels. Hold your cream Trey. Be a man. Don't give in. You can take it.

Control your manhood. Be a stud. Hold it boy. Be strong. Does it feel good? Can you take it? Oh man, you look like you like it. You sound like it too. Don't shoot your cream. Hold your cream buddy. Don't give up."

Between the words of manly encouragement and the stroking of my knee, Trey's horny young boy cock exploded with sperm, spasming loads of boy cream in his briefs within less than a minute of this treatment, sending off a new round of flexing and squirming and groaning from Trey's tired young sweaty bod, but this time all from the pleasure of his horny teen orgasm.

I released my spent young bud and let him enjoy the afterglow of his orgasm. Physically exhausted he didn't move much, or even make an effort to clean the mess in his underwear. He just laid back moaning and fell asleep.

For a little while I laid there watching his sleeping bod, and stroked myself off inside my shorts. His smooth lean boy muscles, exhausted and spent, his sexy boy noises, and the thought of what he let his buddy do to his horny young boy dick sent me to an orgasm fast. And then, finally, I feel asleep, one arm laying over his sexy tummy muscles.

I awoke the next morning to the smell of dried cum and boy sweat, as well as the sensation of weight on my midsection and hands pressing down my shoulders. I opened my eyes and looked up. It was barely light out, just after dawn, a slight dew on us and everything. And looking down at me was my stud bud Trey, trying to pin me before I even woke up, hoping for a pre-dawn get Michael while he is still sleeping advantage. His mischievous smile sent a surge of lust through my tired boy bod.

Without a word I rolled him off me, grabbing his arms and, with the help of my rolling momentum, threw him off me and onto his side.

"Oh shit," he laughed, excited and nervous at the same time. "Just trying to get even Michael, okay?"

"I guess I still need to teach you who the stud of this ring is boy," I said laughing in a tough voice, as I swaggered across the trampoline on my knees to an obviously panicked Trey. My morning erection was already raging and I could see the outline of Trey's hard penis in his shorts, laying against his left leg, as he looked up, ready for me to pounce.

The wrestling ensued all over again. Muscles flexing. Cheat shot punches when a midsection proved unprotected. Dig tickle pinches to an unguarded pectoral muscle. I was whupping up on Trey and he was loving it, fighting back against the superior muscle power with every ounce of his young energy. Before long, he was in THE hold again and at my mercy.

"You ready to give up?" I taunted, finger poised to stroke his bare underarm for a marathon of tickle torture.

"Never, fuck you," he said defiantly, laughing in fear. "Oh mannnnnn, no pit tickling please."

"Hmmmmmm," I thought out loud. "Okay Trey stud, no more pit tickling this morning. Now its time for the ultimate torture."

"What???" he asked an edge of both terror and thrilled excitement in his voice, and a half smile on his face. "What is the ultimate torture."

"You will find out," I added. "Unless you want to give up."

"No way," Trey insisted, gritting his teeth, bracing for the assault his teen body would have to endure.

Without a word I slowly traced my finger down the length of his bare underarm and ribs, making him tremble in ticklishness, smoothed my hand over his firm young abdominals, already in a constant state of flexion, and grabbed the waist bands of his umbros and briefs and swiftly lifted them up and over his fully erect hard on and tucked the waist bands right under his hairless ball sac, trapping his testicles tight in his scrotum and exposing his horny young teen meat to the open morning air.

Trey breathed in deep, a loud gasp. But no words. His body tensed. His teen erection throbbed and twitched. I was ready to really mess with my buddy Trey, and he was letting me. The sight of his hard boy cock was beautiful. The heavy-breathing flexing of his boy body was priceless. The lust-filled anticipation in his wide open blue eyes and pretty-boy face was incredible.

In the spirit of torture and taunting I began by softly tickling his tight ball sac. The trapped testicles were right up against the skin and he had to be feeling it 100 percent. From the first touch he arched his back and moaned in ecstasy, forcing me to clamp down my hold on his squirming boy bod. I became fascinated with the deep guttural man hunky boy noises my buddy was making and the way his whole body responded to my gentle tickle torture of his privates. His cockhead flared, impressing me, engorged with blood and hardness. His muscles tensed in constant spasms of resistance and pleasure. His face, his open mouth spoke volumes he couldn't say. He loved it like nothing else that had ever been done to him.

Call me a sadist if you want but I kept this up for a LONG time, just fascinated with Trey's quivering privates. The soft tickling of his ball sac was sending him into fits of physical stimulation never approached even by my most intense tickling of him elsewhere. I had him and I had him good. He was loving it and I was driving him insane. His solid five inches of rock hard boy penis, obviously aching from erection and desire was dribbling a steady stream of pre-cum, a flow almost approaching that of orgasm levels.

"Oh mannnnnnn," Trey moaned. "Oh fuck. Oh please. Oh God. I can't take it. Oh fuck. Oh God. Oh man. Oh Michael. Fuck. Oh yeah. Oh fuck. Mercy. Fucking mercy please. Oh my cock. Oh fuck my balls are tingling so bad. Please man. Mercy please. Oh fucking mercy please. Oh God! Mercy, fucking mercy."

But he never actually said, "break," so I kept going. After a good hour of testicle tickle torture I put my hand back on his heaving tummy muscles, letting him get a chance to breathe. I smiled at him. He smiled back, chest heaving. His body was covered in sweat, as was mine. The things I was doing to his privates was inspiring a muscle flexing workout no one could possibly design. But my tickle hold and studly muscle power was holding my helpless buddy solidly in my control.

"You don't want to give up do you?" I asked.

"No man," he whimpered with a smile. "I can fucking take it. Just give me a little mercy man. Please."

"No way Trey," I smiled. "You are going down. I got a new rule. I am gonna stroke that stud cock of yours and you had better hold you load. Just like last night. If you cream you load you lose, just like giving in. You ready to prove you are a man and can take it?"

Trey shuddered all over. He didn't speak. Just turned his eyes straight up to the morning sky and braced himself.

I wrapped my hand around his pulsing young boy cock. His teen meat was powerful and solid, but soft and tender too. At my touch he moaned deep and good. He was fucking loving it, admit it or not. I began with long, slow strokes, up and down the shaft of his teen pole. His flex squirming picked up. His body undulating out of control in my wrestling grip. His deep horny boy noises rang in my ears. I was making him feel SO good.

In a very short time his boy cock exploded, sperm gushing up and out and landing on my hand and his abdomen. I kept stroking and pumping his shaft, making him squirt 3 times on the one orgasm. His body went limp in the afterglow. I released him, watching him breath and listening to him moan in sexual gratification.

"You are a fucking stud," I whispered. He smiled back up at me, opening his eyes briefly.

I couldn't take it any longer. My teen meat was raging with hardness and horniness inside my own shorts. I rolled onto my back right alongside Trey and pulled down my own umbros and boxer briefs, tucking the waistbands underneath my scrotum. My six inches of powerful teen meat were waiting. I began to stroke the shaft of my stud boy cock, crunching my own abs enough so I could watch my own privates perform. And then, without warning, Trey's hand was around mine, squeezing my shaft.

"Hey," he moaned weakly, now on his side, his shorts pulled back up. "Don't I even get revenge or anything?" I laughed but my body became flush with excitement. Trey was gonna stroke ME now. It was all happening just as I had hoped and more.

"OK stud," I smiled, putting my hands behind my head, leaning back, my privates unprotected and at his mercy. "See if you can make me cream my load."

Life came to Trey's weary eyes. His body was racked with exhaustion but he was ready and eager to jack with my cock now. He grabbed it tight in his right fist, kneeling at my right side, and began stroking it fast and hard, tickling my ribs with his other hand just enough to keep ME flexing and squirming and giggling through the fucking awesome pleasure of his hand job.

It was my turn to moan and flex and squirm and he was loving it. His smile told me so and the enthusiasm of his stroking told me. This was fucking great. My cock was building fast and it took all my teen stamina to hold my load.

"God your cock is hard Michael," Trey laughed. "It is so big and strong. God, I wish mine was this good. It is a power stud cock. I hope mine gets this big and strong. Oh Michael, I love watching your body like this. You look like a stud. Please hold your load. You can last, Michael. Be a stud for me, too. Hold your cream for me. Can you take it? Am I making you feel good? Be a hero stud, Michael. You can make it! Your muscles are so good. You are so sexy. Come on Michael, hold it good."

But no matter how I tried to resist, Trey's sexy coaching and the hard fast hand-pumping of my boy cock was sending me over the edge. With a grunt and moans of ecstasy my teen meat exploding load after load of white boy cream. Trey kept pumping and I kept cumming. In the sweet afterglow of my own orgasmic bliss, I felt Trey lay across me, his chest on my stomach and head on my chest, hugging me.

It was a hot and humid morning by then, already baking our mostly naked teen bodies. As the neighborhood stirred awake we got up and went to shower up for a new day of boy hero athleticism.

That was the beginning of something new for us. We did a lot more that morning and later, but everything we did was always in the context of studly straight tests of our manliness-to see who could endure ball tickling longer or who could hold their load the longest while the other one stroked.

It never went beyond that, but that was about all two horny teen athlete straight boy buds were looking for-at least, that is, until Kathy decided I was worth not waiting any longer for and claimed me as HER sex toy (but that is another story).