We were sitting beside each other. His left arm was wrapped around my shoulder, my face was nuzzled into his neck. I kissed his lips once and wrapped my arm around his abdomen, sliding across the tent with my hand. Then I pulled my arm back, sliding my hand across it again. I swept my hand across it a few times, acquainting myself with it before I continued further. Then I rested my arm in a comfortable position and began to trace the outline. I caressed the tip and around it through his shorts, pulling the drawstring when it came untucked. I pulled them down over the bulge and they snapped back when I lost my grip. I winced, hoping I hadn't hurt him. His right hand swooped in to hold it back. "I-I got it."

"Thanks," I started caressing the newly revealed outline through his boxer briefs. There was a wet spot from his precum and I bit my lip. I wanted to dive right in and mouth him through the fabric but I could do nothing more than stroke and squish what pressed against the cotton. Maybe it was cotton, I wasn't really focusing on the fabric. I spent a while just feeling it through the fabric then pulled the waistband down slowly. His sturdy cock sprung straight up, the tip damp. He grabbed the boxer waistband too and held it down.

Three thoughts played through my head looking down at the large droplet of precum forming at the tip. The first was how eerily anatomically accurate my dreams had been, the second that I didn't know precum is clear, and the third was that damned Kronk audio clip. “Woah. Nice cock.” It really was: circumcised given the skin hardly stretched one direction or the other (I was expecting more give before remembering foreskin stretches, and a lack thereof doesn't. Read that in a fanfic once or something), veiny with a curly ginger bush at the base, eager to see me, and close in proportion to those cans of off-brand Redbull they sell at Aldi. The first cock I've held, or beheld. And Holy Fucking Frogs was it intimidating.

I swiped the bead of precum from the tip and spread it across the rest of the shaft. I faltered, stroking him and wondering if I could even muster the courage to slide it in. I blinked the thought away, I was not going to back out now after everything, even though he probably wouldn't shame me for it. I took a deep breath and continued running my hand up and down his member. I let my mouth lubricate itself with spit, stroking until the precum was no longer slick enough to allow my hand to glide across his skin. I briefly considered spitting on my hand to give myself more time to build courage but then I thought, Fuck it.

I lowered my head slowly until my mouth was just above the tip. He probably felt my anxious breaths because he made a noise. Or he was getting impatient. My brain immediately suggested kissing the tip gently first but I did not think that would be the best idea, so I just curled my lips around it. I winced, feeling it graze my teeth, then opened my mouth wider and slid it in. I attempted to swirl my tongue around the tip but I didn't have enough room left in my mouth. Instead, my tongue slid across the slit. It tasted salty-sweet, and the tip was much softer than I expected, like a marsh mellow. I slid my head down and back up, reaching farther and farther down the shaft but not far enough to gag. Once my mouth was slick enough that I couldn't tell what came out of me or him, I popped off to swallow some of it down.

I watched a spit-precum trail thin and break and just thought of how fucking sexy that was. I turned my head and licked and kissed up and down the shaft, his hair tickling my cheek. I made a quip about him lasting longer than he had joked about. He laughed and moved his hand to the back of my head. I moved back above the tip and bobbed back up and down. I pushed my head farther down until I felt the tip squish against the back of my throat. He huffed a moan just loud enough for me to hear over the squelch his cock made. I did smaller motions, keeping his cock as far in as he'd fit, hoping he'd make more noises. After realizing my efforts were in vain and I may gag myself into puking, I pulled off to swallow again.

I was going to tell him he can be more vocal but he moved his hand on the back of my head. I immediately surrendered to the idea of him grabbing a fistful of hair and pushing my head back down. I didn't care how loud he was anymore. Didn't care if I gagged to death. But he just stroked my hair gently. I wasn't sure which was hotter. Maybe both. I started sucking again and realized I wasn't using my hands at all. I looked around for busy work. His balls were still tucked under his shorts and I didn't think I could fit my hand in. And I wasn't in the right position to touch his chest. Fuck I wish he was just naked. Hold on what am I doing again? Oh, right, choking on spit and precum.

I pulled back off to swallow so I didn't slobber on him and kissed down his shaft. I bobbed my head back up and down a few more times, then slowly slipped from beside him to the ground in front of him. I moved my right hand from around his back to his cock. I used just my fingers so I didn't get my wrist brace wet. I tried to make eye contact as I licked from the base to the tip, but my head was angled too far down. I wish I had because I heard another stifled moan. I noticed my brace came unclasped so I moved that hand away as I slid him back in my mouth, my left hand cupping the base. I moved down until his cock squelched against the back of my throat again, my wet hand touching the side of my face.

His hips rotated just enough to notice and he firmly placed his hand on the base of my skull. I swiveled and bobbed my head slightly, gagging or choking every great once in a while. I pulled about halfway off, his hand ever so slightly resisting, then pushed back down, gagging and squishing my tongue against his shaft. He moved his hand and said something desperately, then patted the top of my head. I lifted my head up and looked at him. His face was red as he looked at me through lidded eyes and loose hair. He mumbled in a sort of weak, high-pitched tone that made my hair stand on end, "Babe, I'm- I'm gonna cum."

I wanted to just keep going but I knew I'd definitely choke, and coat his shorts and favorite hoodie in jizz. I moved back beside him and used the hand that was still cupped at the base to stroke him. I rested my head against his chest and felt his heartbeat reverberate into my skull. I squeezed lightly as I pumped my fist, feeling his cock pulse in my hand. After a few seconds, he arched his back, and three squirts of cum erupted out. I caught most of it with the back of my hand, but there was a large drop dripping down the tip. Without thinking, I bent down and sucked it off. He gently pushed my head back up. "N-No, no more."

"Okay." I just watched him slowly grow flaccid until he tucked his cock away. I fixed my posture, sitting up and thinking, Man, I barely tasted that... I looked at the glaze on my hand, both admiring the look of it and realizing I had nothing to wipe it off with.

"We don't have anything to wipe it off with," he observed. "Do you have something in your bag?"

"No..." I licked some off my hand and made a face. It tasted like someone dissolved a Tylenol in a vaguely soapy cup of water. It was sour but bitter, and the taste really stuck. "Yeah, I'm gonna wash it off."

I got up and he followed. He tied his shorts while I rinsed the cum away. I looked him up and down. Yeah, next time he should definitely strip more.