Cross-country Running

I really hated cross-country running. Our P.E. teacher, however,seemed to enjoy making us do it unless a) the temperature was below -10, b) the rain was heavy enough to cut off areas of the town by flooding (and our town is on a hill), or c) world tension could bring on a nuclear war within the next two hours. So most

Thursday afternoons we were subjected to having to run 50 miles(or so it seemed) round the paths of the park and woods nearby.That was another thing – it wasn’t cross-country running. It wasthrough the streets, past the shops, round the park and backthrough the streets running. So I hated it.

One Thursday, however, it wasn’t so bad. In fact, I positively enjoyed it! Let me explain.

I was a typical 14-year old boy, average in academic ability(when I could be bothered), average in physical ability (when Icould be bothered), and well over average in sex drive (and Ibothered a lot with that!). What wasn’t typical, however, was thefact that it wasn’t girls my sex drive was aimed at, it was boys.Especially David Priestley.

David Priestley had been my best friend since the first day we’dgone to school and both sat at the same double desk. We werefive, and our friendship had endured many, many trials andtribulations over the past nine years. We’d discovered much aboutlife together, good and bad, and gave each other help and supportwhen it was needed.

Sex was a thing first giggled about, then learnt the details of,during those years. We had explored each others bodies intimatelyas we learnt and grew, and discovered each others likes anddislikes on the way. David was the first of us to learn aboutwanking, taught in the time-honoured way by his elder brother,and as with all other knowledge soon shared it with me. Hisdescriptions of what he’d like to do with a girl fuelled oursessions together, and I had to lie and make up similarsituations when my turn for the fantasy came along. We’d strumaway on our erect organs setting out imagined scenarios till wewere satisfied, our orgasms flooding our hormone-filled bodies asour semen came flying from our cocks.

David had this game we’d play sometimes where we’d tell eachother what they’d do would with a girl, he’d say what she’d dowith me and I had to say what she’d do with him. He seemed to getoff quicker this way.

Normally during cross-country we’d run together, and at somepoint he’d say “I’d love to be with,-” or, “I dreamt I was with(insert some girl’s name here) and we -” followed by an accurateand vivid description of the sexual passion they’d share. Theeffect of this was, of course, erections for both of us in ourthankfully loose shorts, and the enjoyment that a unrelieved hardon can give a teenage boy. The pent-up passion usually meant agood session at one of our houses after school!

This particular Thursday, though, when he said “I’ll tell youwhat you’re going to imagine”, as we left the openparkland for the woods, it wasn’t the usual boy-girl fantasy.

“Imagine you’d had an accident,” he began, “andboth your hands and arms were in plaster.”I did imagine some of the difficulties that wouldbring.

“You’d need someone to do almost everything for you, wash you,dress you, hold you when you went to the toilet.”

We jogged on together, me imagining someone having to do these things. Wiping the backside seemed pretty gross, but the thoughtof someone else’s fingers holding me while I took a piss startedthe swelling off down in my shorts.

“You wouldn’t be able to wank either, imagine that for eightweeks!”

Impossible. I couldn’t go eight hours without that.

“After six weeks your parents were unable to cope,” he went on.

“They ask someone to come and live with you, do everything foryou that you can’t, even sleep in your room in case you neededhelp in the night. Who would it be? And, it can’t be family.”I thought this one through, who should I say?

“Brittany Spears?”

“Do you think your folks know her well enough to get her to dropher singing career to care for you? I’m talking real choiceshere.”

I named a few girls from our school, ones he’d named in ourfantasy wanking sessions.

“They’re not available, sorry.” He said. “And I don’t think theirparents would allow the night time bit, either.”

I was getting fed up with this silly game. “Well who then? Whowould want to wash me, dress me, feed me, wipe my arse and holdmy prick when I pissed? To say nothing of the wanking!”

“Me!”

I stopped dead, David ran on a bit then stopped and walked back.

“You?” I said incredulously. “You? You’d do all that for me?”

“We’re best friends aren’t we? Of course I would.”

I felt embarrassed now, doubting him like that.

“Even the wanking!” he said. My cock jumped to full stand. “See?You’re ready for it already!” he said, looking down at my tentedshorts.

Now although we wanked a lot together, we always did ourselves.

Only twice in four years had we done each other, and that waspart of an ‘imagine a girl doing this for you’ scene.

“But if my arms were plastered, I couldn’t repay you, could I?” Iasked.

“It’s only your hands and arms in plaster,’ he said, “you’vestill got a mouth!”

My cock got even harder. Oh how I’d dreamed of doing that to him,taking that boy’s cock in my mouth and bringing him to a climaxlike he’d never had before.

“What are you saying?” I asked, a little worried about where thiswas going.

“Look, we’ve been best friends since as long as I can remember. Iknow you better than you think, we talk about doing things withgirls, but I know that’s not your scene. To tell you the truth,it might not be mine, either.”

His hand touched the bulge in my shorts, a finger rubbeddelicately over the damp spot that covered my cockhead.”Shall we find out?” he asked, and led me by the arm off the pathdeep into the woodland.

My mind was in a whirl. I felt him lift the leg of my shorts andhold my raging cock. He rubbed it in just the way I like it done,and within seconds I was shooting rope after rope of cum at thetrees. I gasped as all the breath was taken from my chest.

“Well I liked that, how about you?” he smiled.

I dropped to my knees, gathering my wits and catching my breath.His shorts, so loose that his hard cock stood out straight fromhis body under them, were right in front of my eyes. I carefullylifted the cloth of one leg without disturbing the erectionbeneath, closed my eyes and took it in my mouth.

“Oh my God!” he gasped, “Yes, yes, that’s it!” as I slid my lipsover it and ran my tongue round the head. I sucked, licked andpulled at it with tightly closed lips as I felt his hands on myhead, his fingers running through my hair.

I felt him shudder and try to push my head away. I held my armsround his legs and wouldn’t be pushed off.

“I’m coming, I’m co -” he tried to tell me as I sucked andflicked my tongue. ‘I know!’ I thought as he shot his cum down mythroat, time after time after time.

He finished and I stood. Lost in my lust I kissed him, hard, onhis lips.

We broke and I looked at him, awaiting horror and disgust. Hesmiled. “What the hell have we wasted all these years for!” hesaid.

So once, just the once, I enjoyed cross-country running.I have plenty of other things to enjoy, though, with David, mybest friend turned lover.