stories.xnxx.com


Introduction:

First story written for XNXX A brief foreword/caveat: The only sexual stuff in this first part is male masturbation; if you don’t like that then be sure to wait for part 2, as you will be simply wasting your time reading this. The subsequent part(s) will go beyond this somewhat insipid theme. Well, insipid for some; erotic for the rest. Enjoy, or don’t. I’m not going to ask you to go easy on me being as it’s my first submission. Feel free to tear into me; constructive criticism is always welcomed; stupidity is not. That aside, here is the first part of What Are Friends For – my short story written for XNXX.
So on Messenger that night Matt asked me if I wanted to go over his the next day to play some games, watch some movies – that kind of thing.
Why not, I had nothing else planned; “sure” I said. “Cool,” was his response, “see you then”.
We talked a little while longer about different things; mostly chit-chat about nothing in particular. I was getting tired, so I said the customary lines of text and signed out.
I can’t remember what I did after that exactly; I probably got a drink or something then watched some film or TV show from my DVD collection. It’s really not that important actually. Before I got too tired I went and brushed my teeth and rinsed with Listerine, then watched the end of whatever it was I was watching in my room. After that I went to bed.


The next morning I woke up, laid for a while longer then eventually got out of bed as it was a fairly warm day and I was getting a bit uncomfortable and sweaty. I needed a piss but also had an aching hard-on that I think most males get.
To avoid pissing on the cistern I actually had a wank first, while standing over the toilet. I came quite quickly on purpose; doubling over and spitting my sperm onto the rim of the toilet, as you would do with bleach.
As soon as my cock began to soften up I started pissing square in the centre of the bowl, then put my cock back in my shorts, cleaned the spunk off the rim with a piece of toilet paper, flushed the toilet and went back in my room to see that I had a text from Matt, asking when I was coming over.
It was a Saturday, so it wasn’t exactly early then; I told him I’d be there about 10, which give me about an hour and a half to maybe play something, or read something – can’t remember which I did now – get ready and get over there. Not that I was tied to that time, but I like to follow through with what I’ll say I’ll do.


I got ready and went over there, getting there just after 10. I knocked on the door – even though I’d been going to Matt’s for a number of years, and been told by his parents to just come straight in, I find it cheeky and so wouldn’t do it. He answered and told me to come in. I stepped through the threshold and took my trainers off, before turning and closing the door.
“Alright”, he said.
“Yeah, you?” I replied.
“Yeah, I’ve actually just got dressed about 5 minutes ago, though.”
“Lazy cunt” I said with a smile, quieter now, as his parents and younger sister could’ve been in the next room.
As it turned out, his parents were in the next room watching TV and his sister was out shopping with friends. Bit spoilt, I always thought. His parents greeted me and I politely exchanged with them for a minute or two.


When I was about to make my excuses and head up with Matt to his room, I briefly glanced at a small pile of cleaned clothes on the sofa, including a few pairs of her knickers. A few times when I’d slept over in the past, I’d snuck downstairs at night when everybody was asleep, proceeded to lecherously grab a pair and wrap them around my cock and wank until I spurted onto their carpet, before hastily putting them back where I found them and clean up the mess from the carpet.

I didn’t get caught, and I doubt even suspected of such a shameful act; still, after that first time I did it a few more times, but upped the ante somewhat. One time I grabbed a pair, thrust my cock into the gusset, where I imagined her pussy lips to rest against, and made a kind of sawing motion with the panties, rubbing the material harshly over my helmet.

In the throes of sexual bliss, I found it a good idea to deposit my cum into the gusset, but after the orgasm subsided, all that was left was me kneeling in the family living room in the dead of night, shakily holding a pair of Matt’s mother’s knickers, my cock rapidly going soft inside them, my spunk not going anywhere; a thick wad that would coat both her pussy and arsehole nicely if she’d have put them on at that moment.

There was nothing I could do to conceal my defilement of them; my only option was to take them with me and hope against hope she wouldn’t notice the next morning that a pair of her underwear had gone.
What I did was remove my jeans and boxer shorts – all dignity gone by now – put the freshly spunked panties on then put on my boxers and jeans as normal.

I snuck back upstairs to go to sleep, and after I laid for a while, my cock began to stiffen once more. It was agony, as my new underwear weren’t designed to accommodate an erect penis and balls. I quietly pulled them down a little bit, just for breathing space for my cock.
I decided I needed to cum again before I went to sleep, so I quickly knocked one out, my cock making rude, wet slapping noises before I quickened my pace and arched my back, groaned softly and blew a load into the panties once more, ruining them.

I pulled them up, cringing at the feeling of my own paste against my genitals, matting my pubic hair no doubt. I went to sleep after rearranging myself once more, woke up the next morning trying to be as casual and innocent as my acting skills would allow.
Nothing was said, so perhaps his mother didn’t notice. Maybe she did, but if she was to take me aside and ask me about it, I would have said she had an agenda other than trying to recover a pair of then rather stiff underwear.

In other words, she probably would have noticed my interest and wanted my cock in her hot pussy hole. I should have been ashamed of myself when I made my excuse to go home, even more so that I decided to keep the panties, and even more ashamed that I washed them and repeated the process several times, blowing innumerable loads of spunk all over the stolen underwear. Nobody ever found out; therefore, why should I have been blamed. Innocent until proven guilty.
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