Summer of Stu II

He had longish hair, beautiful dark, sloe eyes, thick, sensuous lips ... a face that was one part rock-star and one part model; Stu, my first real lover...the first guy in high school I'd ever kissed, the first guy I'd ever had sex with, the first one to ever mutter, "I love you" to me, and ultimately, my first heartbreak.

I mentioned here before that during the summer of 1977 Stu and I lived together in his late grandfather's old farmhouse which lay at the end of a dirt road deep in the woods of a small town in Southern New Jersey. I loved that old house and I loved Stu. I was young, we were both young, just nineteen years old, unfettered and free and horny and we had each other...

Sex was an ongoing, almost nonstop event between us. When we weren't working or sleeping, chances are we were fooling around.

Most mornings we started the day with a mutual jerk off... it was nice to reach over and feel for his staff through his briefs, free it and jerk it until he came ... it was just as nice to have him do it to me.

Some times I'd rise to the surface out of a sound sleep with him going down on my cock. He'd do these mind-blowing things with his tongue to my cock and and balls and I'd shoot a messy morning load into his waiting mouth... and then he'd look up at me, those sleepy, sexy eyes of his locking with mine and we'd kiss and I'd taste my own cum...

Rock music was almost always playing somewhere in the house ... one day, in the kitchen we were throwing a meal together and Argent's "God Gave Rock and Roll To You" was issuing forth from the radio on the shelf above the stove, "This song makes me horny", he said turning from the stove top, and the next thing I knew he was playing with my nipples making me weak in the knees. I stopped what I was doing and allowed him to assault my chest, to tweak my sensitive tits until they burned and my cock was rock hard, until I fell to my knees and sucked him off while our dinner burnt...fuck it, could life be any better?

There was an old barn behind the house that Stu used when he painted (he was a tremendously gifted artist), we also rigged up the barn as a kind of sex room complete with a jerry-rigged sling that we took turns in getting fucked...sometimes we'd have like minded buddies over and engage in some multiple partner action. Often, Chris and Andy stopped over and the four of us would get it on in the barn ... other times it was just us. This one time, Stu and I smoked a bowl of some crazy Mexican weed and we were both so fucked up that I ended up banging his beautiful ass while he was bent over a hay bale...using my own spit as lube I pounded him raw and he cursed me out while I slapped his ass and rode him like a pony...


One night, in our bedroom, a thunderstorm lighting up the night with strobe effects, we smoked a joint and wrestled around on the bed, ass slapping each other, grabbing each others balls, twisting each other nipples, biting each other, spitting in each others mouth ... there was not penetration at all, no sucking no fucking...we merely came in our underwear while we engaged in erotic horseplay.

I loved getting fucked by Stu. He would rub his huge cock all over me, leaving a trail of slime on my back until he reached my crack and then he'd slide in, all at once, and I'd accept the pain/pleasure of his and hold my breath until he was in to the max and then he'd slowly, almost methodically pump away and I'd relax letting every inch of my lover enter while I'd listen for his breathing to intensify and I'd say his name while he was doing me and he'd tell me how much he loved fucking me, and then he'd tell me that he loved me and I'd wait for his climax; the feel of his jism pumping in to me...

I loved to fuck his face, to ram my cock into that beautiful mouth of his. He would take me and deep-throat my cock, and then I'd pull out and slap his face with my rod and watch as drops of pre-cum dotted his perfect face and his tongue would dart out and try and catch my seed...and then I'd reach back and pinch his nipple and he'd groan and I knew he loved it ... and somewhere in that old farmhouse a rock song was playing, and it would reverberate though the halls and when I would cum and shoot white semen all over his face and shout out-loud, my voice would drown out the music, and for a few shining moments I'd understand everything, and it was good and great and then he'd have his orgasm and it would be just as good for him, and once more I'd think; fuck it, could life be any better?