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First Time I Compared Dicks With Someone

Chapter 3: Group Debauchery

Neither of them looked over when I grabbed Clark's dick in front of everyone. Brent was scrolling through his own footage on the carpet with his shorts still down around his ankles, his dick standing straight out, ignored. The fleshlight was resting on the couch where Brent had tossed it next to Rhys, who was still doing his silent watching thing, and Jax was adjusting the video playing on the TV. It seemed like Clark's big dick was old news to both of them, and they weren't fazed by me giving him a handjob. They had been doing this since high school in somebody's basement in another town, and it had quit being a big deal to them a long time ago.

"You like touching my cock," Clark said.

"Maybe."

"You do."

He said it without turning his head, and then he leaned forward past me.

"Give it here."

Rhys grabbed the toy and underhanded it at us, and it hit my knee and I caught it against my thigh. It was warm all the way through by then, and the inside was streaked cloudy with lube and cum, nothing like it had been an hour ago when Jax held it over his head in the driveway.

Clark slid off the cushion down onto the carpet, and I followed as he knelt there facing me with his shorts still bunched at his knees and his shirt still on, and there was a clear spot on the carpet in front of him where nobody had spilled anything yet.

We were maybe a foot apart, close enough that my bare knees almost touched his bare knees, and the TV played behind his shoulder and lit up the side of his face blue every time the scene cut.

"Both ends," he said.

"What?"

He took the toy out of my hands and popped the bottom cap off entirely and held it up horizontally between us, gripping the far end with both hands, and tipped his chin at the near end. Then he grabbed the lube off the carpet and squeezed some into his end and then into mine, and it ran down the inside of the clear tube and pooled in the middle where the two openings met.

"Both ends. Come on. I want to see if it works."

I put my hands on the near end. My fingers wrapped around the outside of the sleeve and his wrapped around the far side and we held the thing at hip height, level, and he pushed forward into his end and I pushed forward into mine, and we met somewhere in the middle.

I felt him. Through the sleeve, and not through much of it, that clear rubber pulling tight around both of us at once, and his tip shoved against mine on every push, pressure meeting pressure through the rubber. My whole body locked up on the first one, my thighs stiffening under me on the carpet. This was the closest thing to actual sex I had ever felt.

And I could see it all. It was crazy that this whole thing was clear. I looked down and saw both of them squashed flat and shiny, and his head pushed up against my head in the middle of it, the two tips smeared together under the plastic as they overlapped, pushing each other out of the way, the forceful pressure only making it feel better.

"Okay," I said.

"Yeah."

We got a rhythm going, both of us holding the toy steady with our hands stacked around the middle so it would not slide off of us, my hands under the near end and his over the far end, and whoever pushed harder made the other guy's whole head slide back toward his own end. He would push and I would watch his head slide the whole length toward me and mash into mine, pushing it to the side and adding tight, wet warmth. And I would push back to hold my ground and shove him back where he came from. It turned into a slow contest that both of us were winning, done entirely with our hips and our dicks, knees still on the carpet, hands locked around the middle of a piece of plastic, our warm fingers overlapping as we watched it from above.

His face was a foot from mine. Neither of us looked away for long, not to the TV, not to the other guys, only down at the tube and back up. He had his glasses on and they were fogged at the bottom edge and his mouth hung open slightly, and I could hear him breathing through it.

"Don't stop," he said.

I pushed harder. He pushed back. The sleeve made a wet rubbery noise every time, loud enough that it carried in the room, and somewhere behind me Jax said something and I did not hear one word of it.

I stared at his face harder than I had ever stared at anybody, and he stared right back. His jaw kept tightening and I would feel it in my hands a second later, a flex traveling down his body and arriving in my fingers through the plastic.

Then the toy left my hands.

Jax had reached down over the back of us and grabbed the middle of it and yanked it out from between us, and Brent was up off the carpet already, laughing before he even had a plan.

"One end," Jax said. "Both of us. One end."

They stood hip to hip in front of the TV with their shorts at their knees and their shirts on, Brent holding the sleeve out in front of them with one hand, and they stood together, basically chest to chest, and crammed both of their dicks into the one opening, shoulders jammed together, and Jax started pumping the toy up and down onto their dicks, as they both started moving their hips out of sync, humping into it. From the carpet I could see the two of them crushed together inside the tube, one on top of the other, the plastic stretched so wide it turned white at the edges. 

I reached over and grabbed Clark's dick as I watched them, and his arm came around my back.

For a bit it was yet another escalation of the strangest thing I had ever seen. Jax was giggling and Brent was going "yeah, damn, I'm gonna cum, no wait I'm not, no wait..." 

Then it quieted down in about three steps. Jax quit narrating, Brent's laugh dropped out of him, and it was just two guys standing there breathing with their bodies close together, meeting at the dick, both of them looking down instead of at the TV.

Brent finished first. I saw his body movements get jerky and uncoordinated before he said anything, the white juice appearing suddenly in the tube around both of them, pumping out and coating their dicks together, running down over the two of them where their meat poles were crushed against each other. From where I knelt on the carpet I could look straight up under Brent, and I watched the muscles under his balls pulse on his taint with every shot, a hard little flex that happened right before each new rope showed up in the plastic. Clark had his eyes on the same thing, I think, his hand loose on my back. Jax lasted maybe another two little thrusts and then he locked up too, and his load went in with Brent's, and the whole chamber clouded over until I could barely see the pink meat of their dicks anymore, just a white smear with two shafts inside of it, white foam frothing up at the base and liquid dripping down their balls. I had never thought about the full structure of an ejaculation before, the whole chain of it from the taint up, and I was learning more about male anatomy in one night than in every health class combined.

Brent pulled out, dripping. He sat his bare ass down on the arm of the couch and looked at his phone.

Clark leaned away, and sat back on his own heels across from me and pushed his glasses up his nose with a knuckle, and his dick was still standing up wet against his shirt while he did it.

I sat back on my heels too, and I looked past the plastic tub to the far corner of the sectional.

Rhys was still there. Fully dressed. Shoes on. His hands were on his knees, exactly how he had sat down when we came into the basement, watching the four of us and intermittently playing on his phone, his face doing nothing at all.

"Don't be a pussy," I said.

It came out of me in Clark's voice. I heard it leave my mouth in his exact cadence, the same words he had used on me in his room, and I heard myself use them on somebody else.

Rhys looked at me. Not at the toy, not at the TV. I crossed over to him.

Jax had put the dripping wet, sloppy toy on the folding table by the Mountain Dew, the lube standing next to it with the cap flipped open. I picked up both on my way past and the sleeve was hot in my palm and streaked on the inside, and I kept going to the far corner.

Rhys stood up. He kicked his shoes off finally, both of them, and then he pushed his shorts and his underwear down to the floor and stepped out of them completely, and he was already hard. Fully. It stood up flat against his shirt and it had clearly been like that for a while, under the fabric, the entire time he sat there with his hands busy.

He was thick at the base, and it curved up hard toward his stomach. He turned to stand next to me instead of in front of me.

"Woah, is Rhys joining?" Jax said quietly from across the room.

"Oh shit," Brent said.

And the three of them watched as Rhys and I ended up shoulder to shoulder in the corner, both our hard dicks pointing out into the room, his arm against mine. I stuck a finger into the disgusting opening of the toy and held it up between us, and I got myself into it, sliding into the warm ridges the other four of us had already left.

Then he put both of his hands over my one hand and worked himself in beside me.

There was no room for two of us in a sleeve built for one. Every millimeter he pushed in pressed us flat against each other inside it. The two of us together filled way more of the tube than Jax and Brent had. The whole length of him pressed against the whole length of me with nothing in between, and my hand was under all of it, holding the weight and his two hands were over mine holding the top. And there we were, side by side under the clear plastic, his thick one crushed into mine, both heads jammed together at the top of the chamber, the lube pushed up around them in a cloudy ring.

Four hands on one end.

"Oh my god," he said, his breath hitting my face, smelling like minty gum.

We started moving. It was less stroking than both of us pushing up into our own hands, our thighs hitting each other without a solid rhythm, our arms and shoulders bumping as we sloppily thrust our hips forward.

He was stronger than me, and soon he was setting the pace, his forearms flexing against the backs of my fingers, his shoulder driving into mine every time he pushed. Our shirts were still on, and we were bare from the waist down, with the TV playing and Jax slumped over on the far end of the couch, a foot of cushion between his hip and Rhys's bare butt as it tensed repeatedly in a frenzied humping.

His breathing got loud about a minute in. Not talking, just air, and it got shorter and shorter, and his hands squeezed down on mine hard enough that I could not have let go if I had wanted to.

"I'm gonna," he said.

"Okay."

He pushed up one more time and then his whole body stiffened against my side and he finished, and I felt his breath on me as I felt it happen on my dick, watching the white emanation under the plastic. The first shot came out of him white and thick and coated the heads of our dicks, and then the next ones pumped out against the side of my shaft and spread between us, coating both of us as we both kept thrusting, and every pulse pushed more of it down the tube so it filled the ridges and clouded the whole clear wall from the inside. I felt every one of them against me, warm and pooling at the base of me. His forehead came down onto my shoulder and stayed there, and his shoulders jerked twice under his shirt, his hands staying on top of mine.

I stood there with a guy's forehead on my shoulder and his load sitting warm against my dick, starting to drip down my balls, looking down at both of us smeared white in a clear tube, and I finished about ten seconds later into the same mess without either of us changing a single thing about how we were standing. I let out a controlled breath as my load came out thinner and added to his, and I watched it swirl over the medley of pink flesh and white liquid, until I could not tell where one of us stopped and the other started, the two of us in there slick and dripping.

He did not move his head off my shoulder for a while.

"Sorry," he said into my sleeve.

"For what."

"For finishing on you."

"No, it's cool. You can do that. I jizzed on you too."

He straightened up and took his hands off mine, and when he pulled out, a ton of fluid followed him and dripped immediately down both of our legs, making him flinch. I held the toy carefully in my one hand as I pulled myself out of it, and he stepped back and picked his shorts up off the floor.

····[]····

Everybody slowly got dressed. I carried the toy to the utility sink under the stairs and ran it under hot water, and it took a while, the cum hanging in the ridges and forming into strings under the tap before the water finally came through clear again. 

Clark came over with a roll of paper towels and tore off a stack and handed it to me without saying anything, and we stood there at the sink while the other three put on some video game streamer they liked, a guy with a headset yelling at his screen. I had lost track of a lot of things by then, my memory of the last hour fuzzy from having my dick pulled in so many directions.

"Did you cum tonight?" I asked him under the noise.

"Twice," he said, and he nudged his big dick into my hip with a push of his hips and chuckled.

Jax was asleep sitting up on the long side of the sectional with his chin on his chest and his mouth open. Brent was on the floor going back through his footage with the phone an inch from his face.

"His brother's gonna want this back," I said, nodding over at Jax.

"He'll put it right back under the bed," Clark said. "Kid will never know."

I dried the toy off and walked it over and dropped it into Jax's bag on the floor, and Clark grabbed a shirt off the arm of the couch and threw it over the middle cushion where I had been sitting, and pressed it down with his palm a couple times.

The TV went off late and we laid sleeping bags out across the basement floor. Jax and Brent took the strip by the stairs, Brent near the outlet, Jax passed out before he had a say in it. Clark laid his out along the front of the sectional. Mine went between Clark's and Rhys's, close enough that the edges overlapped on both sides.

I was on my back with my hands on my stomach looking up at the floor joists. Rhys was on his side facing me. Upstairs a whole room of women was still laughing, and it came down through the ceiling in bursts, and my mom was somewhere in the middle of it.

His foot was against mine under the blanket. Bare skin, the side of his foot flat against the side of mine, and neither of us moved it once it was there.

"Hey," I said.

"Yeah."

"Why peanut butter cup."

He was quiet long enough that I thought he had fallen asleep.

"Because he's sweet, but salty," Clark said from behind my head. 

I turned my head. He had his eyes open in the dark.

"That's it?"

"I just used to eat like fifty of them a day," Rhys said, "Brent called me that in tenth grade, and it stuck."

The laughing upstairs went up and came back down.

"Was that your first time?" I said. "Doing that with a guy."

"No," he said.

I looked back up at the joists and left my foot exactly where it was.