Jilling Off

for whatever reason, we went to fist-bump tonight, and as your hand hit mine, I felt the impact of chunky metal. “I”m sorry about the ring,” you said, and I looked at you, and looked at the ring and all it symbolises and laughed and laughed and laughed. You had the grace to laugh as well, and to say “in all non-ironic forms as well, I’m sorry about the ring”. That was really sweet.

Because it was New Year’s, and because we were in a beach town, my friend’s house was full of people so it was only fair that I offered to share the sofa bed that I was sleeping on. Two other guys crashed out on the floor, one on a bean bag, and the guy that hadn’t been giving me the eye all night rolled his sleeping bag out next to mine.

Because it was New Year’s, and because we were in a beach town, it was far too hot to sleep. I heard the breathing of the boys in the room slow down, and one started snoring, but I was pretty sure that the boy next to me wasn’t asleep. I was also pretty sure that his hand was snaking over to my side of the bed, softly drawing circles on my back. Was it on purpose? Was he really touching me? Did I want this to happen with the other boys in the room, or even at all?

I wanted to be sure, so pretending to stretch, I wriggled a little closer to his side of the bed. The hand stroking me was now unmistakeable. I rolled over and took his hand. There was a minute’s pause, a realisation that this was something that was happening before he started to stroke my arm again, and I reached out to touch him as well. His hands slipped up under my tshirt, found me braless, squeezed my breasts. I tugged lightly at his nipples, my arm grazing the top of his boxer shorts. I wasn’t sure how far he wanted this to go but he moved my hand down and I felt how hard his cock already was. His body went stiff as I took it in my hands, and then shook with the effort of keeping totally silent as my hand moved faster and faster. I could feel how much he was straining as he came in my hands, shaking and almost choking from trying not to cry out. I kissed him on his forehead, wiped my hand off on his shorts, rolled over and went to sleep. It was New Year’s, after all.