He was wearing grey flannel slacks and a T-shirt, and I was wearing a T-shirt and white jeans.He was wearing grey flannel slacks and a T-shirt, and I was wearing a T-shirt and white jeans. To our mutual surprise, he had gone to the same high school as I did, although neither of us recalled seeing the other there. He was two years behind me and had gone to that school when his family moved to this country, while I had moved to that town when I entered the eleventh grade, so neither of us had spent our whole school life there. We were getting to know each other as we moved to my bedroom window, but we hadn't gotten onto the subject of sex. He was startled when he saw the guy across the lane, and he looked at me. I told him about the guy seeing me jacking off, and how I'd see this guy taking care of himself. We put our drinks down and I handed him the binoculars, so he could watch the performance. I was turned on from seeing the guy across the lane, and also being so close to Peter. When the guy stiffened, I knew he was shooting. He turned his light out, and then Peter turned away from the scene across the lane. Putting the binoculars down, Peter turned to me and put his arms around my shoulders as he kissed me and moved his groin against mine. It was one firm basket rubbing against another firm basket. He reached down and cupped and squeezed my basket through my jeans. |