Back Then, When I Was Still Green

It was a day like any other.

I woke up early and nestled into the sheets, enjoying the soft touch of the satin fabric on my delicate skin. As I felt that John stirred, I stretched myself out and drew his attention to myself. Soon, his right hand reached out to me, stroked me gently and rubbed my swollen head.

This was his way to say "good morning" before standing up and walking to the bathroom. It also made clear that he wasn't up for some morning wood quicky action, so I shrank down to my chilling size.

I loved him anyway.

And if I wasn't satisfied, I tended to play our little game and got hard from time to time until he affectionately pushed against the bulge in his pants or pulled me from the left to the right side. I actually loved to build up the tension until evening to explode inside his gentle hand under the desk or in the bed.

Well, sometimes I teased him too much and got pulled out of his pants on a random toilet. Then he stroked me greedily and stifled his moans as his cum shot through my body and out of my head. He usually used a tissue to catch it but once or twice he didn't manage to grab one and let me shoot the cream all over the toilet. But that's not what happened that day.

As I said it was a day like any other and started with a long, pleasant piss. I know, it doesn't sound like fun to spurt piss from your head but to be honest, it doesn't feel bad at all, especially if John didn't use the restroom for a long time.

However, it is by no means comparable with creamy cum. I mean, John's spunk feels, tastes and smells much better than piss and was so varied. At times it was pretty liquid and sprayed all over John's chest, sometimes even reaching his neck. Then again it was quite thick and just poured out of my head and ran down my body.

Pissing on the other side seemed to be always the same. Standing in front of a toilet to let out a strong jet into a bowl, only moving around a little to make more noise or to aim at the fly in a urinal. Back then, I always wondered why John did that regularly as I couldn't see any use at all.

But enough of that.

After the pee, John went back to our bedroom and pulled on his boxer shorts which were sort of my mobile home. To keep me warm, he also put on pants, though I wished he wouldn't have worn them in the summer.

The next hours, I took a nap or two, listened to the low background noise and occasionally grew inside the boxers or itched a little to draw John's attention until he scratched me affectionately.

Back at home, he took a shower and I looked forward to fucking his gentle hand. I hoped he would do me below the desk, teasing me for hours while watching the flickering lights above the desk and listening to the hot moanings and sporadic screams. I also wished that he would rub me with the slippery lube he tried some weeks ago, starting slow and gentle but getting fast and rough right before I couldn't hold it back anymore.

But after drying himself, he put me back into some new boxers, dressed up and went out again.

I was a little pissed and slept inside my mobile home until John woke me up. Alarmed by his nervousness, I quickly grew inside my boxers before I felt some pressure on top of me.

Sometimes John did that to tease me. He pushed me against a hard surface or rubbed me through the thick fabric but this time it was different. John didn't wear his pants anymore and gently stroked me through the thin cloth of the boxers. I felt his excitement as his fingers hesitantly traced the outlines of my body. He definitely wasn't like this for years.

Why doesn't he let me out? I finally wondered when he slipped his hand underneath my boxer shorts.

Question answered! It wasn't John!

Frozen, burnt or petrified, I'd never mistake John's hand!

My love, best friend, and lover!

What is it? I thought and suddenly remembered the dreams of my youth where I had seen more persons like John but always blamed them to my wild imagination.

The soft and smooth fingertips touched my swollen head and slowly stroked my shaft all the way down to my hairy root. Once there, the long, lean fingers gently embraced my hard body and stroked me fondly. John never caressed me in that position and despite loving him, I was willing to risk our relationship by cheating on him with that lovely hand.

Sorry, John! That is too tempting! I thought and nestled against the delicate skin of that fingers, smelling the intense scent of lemon.

Okay, don't ask me why I know how lemons smell or I won't continue my story!

Well, summarized, it was like heaven but then the hand was suddenly pulled out of my boxer shorts.

NO, don't go! I wailed but it was no use. The hand was gone and I was afraid that I would never feel it again.

I was a little depressed but then I noticed that John got even more excited. A moment later, the fabric of my boxers moved down and as I was exposed to the light, I saw...