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*quot;Roll over,*quot; he said. *quot;I'll do the fronts.*quot;

By that point, I was no longer thinking clearly. I knew only that nothing I had experienced had ever felt this good. In its own right, that was amazing.

Here I was, a college freshmen who had never been kissed, never touched a girl.

However, I had experienced physical pleasure, even if it only was at my own hand -- and I do mean hand.

A few years earlier, I had discovered masturbation, albeit quite by accident in the shower one day.

It felt pretty good, the process, I mean, but the run up -- there's a term -- was not nearly as good as the final result. My first orgasm frightened me nearly to death. Based on the intensity, I thought something terrible was happening to me.

I survived, though, and as it says on every shampoo bottle: lather, rinse, repeat.

The pleasure related to the tickling, though, was different. While it felt nice to stroke myself, the goal was always to produce an orgasm. The preliminaries were just that, the means to an end.

Tickling was just delicious. It always was, and the legs and sides carried that pleasure to a greater height.It caused me to shudder and at time barely be able to endure it.

Still, hungry for more *quot;new sensations,*quot; I flipped over.

He started over again at my ankles, escort kayaşehir as always, barely touching. The feeling was different as he worked his way over the fronts of my calves, which were covered lightly with blond hair.

At times, he was touching only the hair, brushing his palm over it, making it stand straight up.

When Bobby moved past my knee, something else stood straight up. Embarrassed by the small, white tent, I began to roll over.

Bobby laughed.

*quot;What?,*quot; he said. *quot;You think I don't know you get hard?*quot;

*quot;Uh,*quot; I responded.

*quot;Well, I know you do,*quot; he said. *quot;A long time ago, over at your house, I got up in the middle of the night to pee and saw it in the moonlight, a little bump. Oh, I'm not saying you were playing with it; you were asleep. But it was hard.

*quot;And one night last year, while you were sleeping here, I rolled over and it poked me in the back.*quot;

*quot;Uh,*quot; I again replied, unable to think of a single word to say. Pretty sad for a communications major, huh?

*quot;I'll tell you what,*quot; he said, chuckling. *quot;I won't look. Now, let me finish you so I can have my turn.*quot;

I tried to relax, but could not. The higher Bobby went, the more my muscles tensed. I was so worked up I could barely feel the tickling sensation; well, maybe a escort anadolu yakası little.

He got about three inches from the tops of my thighs and slapped me hard on the stomach and said, *quot;OK, get to work.*quot;

Working on the backs of his calves, I was torn. For the first time, I was actually looking forward to my end of the bargain. For some reason, touching him was as exciting and pleasurable as being touched.

In fact, I am certain I spent much more time on Bobby than he did no me. I was almost entranced.

I didn't get the chance to tell him to flip.

After about 20 minutes, he rolled over. Glancing up and down the length of his body, I noticed that his small, dark nipples were erect.

Gee, I wondered if mine did that. I was too nervous to notice when he was tickling. But in that instance I felt the skin on my chest tighten. They were hard all right,which usually was an embarrassment. As a chubby guy, my breasts were kind of fleshy and the circles around the nipples large and light pink. The nipples, themselves, were (and are) pointy and small.

By that time, I didn't care. If Bobby was not offended by my *quot;tent,*quot; the hard nipples would not matter. He probably couldn't see, anyway.

With all that thinking going on in my mind, I did not realize escort avrupa yakası I had worked my way past his knees and onto the fronts of his thighs.

His head was rolled back and his mouth wide open as I tickled. Slowly, slightly, his legs spread. Going with the moment, I let my fingers trail to the inside of his thigh, not very far up.

The reaction was immediate.

My little tent was nothing compared to what I saw next.

That giant cock of his hardened into a stiff sword right before my eyes. I saw the front of his briefs expand and could see the outline of his penis through the cloth.

Then, something more amazing happened. Reaching apparently what was its full length, his cock pushed the waistband out and the head, actually more than the head, followed.

I had seen him before in the shower at school and changing clothes, but never like this.

It was just immense; easily twice as long as mine and probably more than twice as thick.

I turned my head away. It seemed as if I shouldn't be looking at such a thing. Glancing upward, his eyes were tightly closed.

Sitting up, I tried to gather myself together. Simultaneously, Bobby rolled over and out of the fold-out couch.

*quot;I gotta go to the bathroom,*quot; he said, disappearing behind the curtain that separated the laundry-bathroom area from the main basement.

*quot;Yeah, OK,*quot; I sputtered.

Out he went,and when I stood up to pull on my cut-off jeans, I glanced at the basement steps.

Yikes, there was Bobby's sister, Marne,just sitting and staring.

What a development.