A Clever Little Arrangement

We pushed them down and we stepped out of them.

We had stepped towards each other.

We saw each other's tents, through his grey underwear, through my blue underwear. We nodded at each other. We pushed our underwear over and down. We never left each other's eyelock. We nodded again. This time we were silently agreeing to look.

There was no foreskin there. That wasn't disappointing for me at all, I was just a little nervous, everything that was different from my body was something I was inexperienced in making feel nice. It was pretty though. It really was. It was really solid, pretty thick, not small and not humongous, and just cute. I liked it.

"Oh wow. That is... that is big," Simon said.

"It is? I thought I was average."

"Dude, that is... not average. Well I actually don't know, but I don't think it is.

"Is that okay?"

"YEAH. I mean I think?"

We smiled at each other. And hesitated.

"Okay," he said, "We're naked and horny. And no one's coming through that locked door!" We smiled some more. We slowly realized what choices were involved now. Someone had to steer what was happening, someone had to give and someone receive, and I slowly realized those two factors weren't necessarily the same. This wasn't a story or video where someone 'seduced' someone, mentored them into how to fuck. For all our preparations, and all our fantasies, we realized that when people were equals there were choices to make.

We had both been giving each other the "What now" face, but not, I don't think, in a bad way. "Okay," I said. "Why not!" So I knelt. I realized I didn't know quite how, the cameras were rarely on the legs. Do you sit on your feet? No, not tall enough. Knight-style? Not comfy. I was almost there when I knelt as tall as I could, but I realized then that I didn't want to yank him down like a lever. "Here, um, can you sit on your bed?"

He had lost 10% of his erection to the logistics of it all, but very soon I had him sitting on the bed. His knees were open enough that I was now kneeling between them.

I was looking down at a penis, not across at one. That felt more right. I noticed that feeling and I let myself revel in it. It felt right. I'm between a naked boy's knees, he wants my mouth. That mental wall still existed, but as I began to feel this proximity, my bravery and hunger were starting to get stronger. This wasn't something I was watching, this was something happening, and I searched my body for instincts, and I was beginning to feel some. I looked up at him again and we watched each other's nervousness, for signs of disgust or fear. From all signs, we were just nervous.

I renewed consent anyways. It was now or never.

"Should I?"

Simon smiled. "Heh. Um, what the hell?"

I didn't let myself go through another phase of indecision. I told my mouth to open, wide as I didn't know how much. And go down, far as I didn't know how much. When something grazed my palette, I tried to close as softly as I could.

So I felt all of Simon all at once.

All of him.

A broad head filled my far back there. A large shaft squirmed around my tongue. Something very very soft cuddled against my chin. His balls! Had I reached that far? I moved my mouth a bit, and that made his wiggling a lot more pronounced. I felt the soft tissue with my face. His balls were absolutely resting against me.

I realized I had inside my face a penis the absolute perfect size and shape to be there. My mouth was perfectly proportioned to accommodate this exact proportion of penis. I experimented with a bob up and down, and stayed a little longer. Simon's squirming continued, twisting him inside me a little, sloshing back and forth, twisting left, barely barely.

I had been so nervous about what to do to skillfully please someone sexually, but my first lesson was that when I'm having sex, I'm not alone. I don't even think Simon was doing this deliberately, but he was communicating all about what he liked, he was even making it happen. He was by no means humping my face, I would have hated that, but he wasn't just passively getting a blowjob either. In the first few seconds ever of my sex life I was realizing that sex wasn't an adversarial contest to achieve pleasure, but a cooperative game towards a shared goal.

As it got less new, less scary, I noticed my sense of hearing again, and I started to notice Simon's voice, not saying anything, but constantly changing up his strategy for how he was going to get the next breath. I listened to my own body, and while my penis was begging for touch, as I suspected and hoped, I was deliriously happy to be kneeling and giving.

We were both happy.

I honestly couldn't say who was enjoying the moment more.

I came up and saw bright sunlight from the window on the penis beside me, and it was beautiful, shining, large, proud, excited. And down I went on it again. It was warmer than before just from the moment of sunshine I had allowed it. I lapped up all its warmth like a frosting.

Maybe I had some instincts after all. Maybe. I didn't actually know whether I was any good.

I took a little break to breathe, and sat on the bed next to him. We breathed heavily together.

"Hi Simon!" A breath. "So?" Two breaths. "Any notes?"

"Um... I don't know if I know enough about doing this to say so, so for now I'm just going to enjoy the right-hand-to-huge-tongue pipeline!" We chuckled. "Welp. I've just gotta try, don't I?"

"Nope. Nope you don't. You're just welcome to it. And I'm nervous, but in a YES kind of way. Just FYI." Simon slid to the floor. He got between my knees. He tried leaning, and then scooched me closer. And then he was right beside me. A guy was right beside my penis. Watching it. Planning how to touch me.

Simon looked it up and down, maybe gauging how much his mouth could do here, and eventually, with mouth and tongue relaxed and dripping, he placed every soft surface in his mouth on my shaft, lips and tongue grazing me at the same time, and started slipping up and down me.

This was completely and utterly new. It wasn't so much that something way softer than a hand was grinding against me. It was that I didn't control what it did. Someone else was deciding what happened with my penis. I looked down and watched him (that looked lovely by the way, sexy and just nice), but even as I watched him my body still swelled with surprise at every new touch.

Fast, slow, stimulating, exploring... So many soft feelings were touching me all over my whole penis. My shaft was being shaken back and forth by his soaked mouth, his drool was already tickling into my balls, turning the curve underneath.

As I started to sway in pleasure, his mouth did more than an up-and-down, it searched around, always moving. He tried my balls in his mouth. Holy crap, that was like being shocked. He tried my head, pretty tentative with the tip, probably strange to him covered in a hood of skin.

Simon reached my foreskin, and stopped and returned. He very tentatively hesitantly noticed and explored the unique taste there. The unique taste of an afternoon writing erotica and half an hour preparing to be naked with a boy. I watched to see if he was having second thoughts, but from what I was seeing him do, he was searching for an approach. He puppy-licked my tip in big happy slathers, up and down, and when he saw that made me squirm and gasp and smile he just kept doing it for a while.

Eventually he gave his first-ever try to take me. He slipped me into his mouth. When he realized his palette went down only part-way, he innovated. In a wonderful, seismic minute of my life, Simon the adventurous former virgin roamed all over, slipping down my shaft, sending his mouth and tongue back up from the balls to the tip, engulfing the top when he reached it, and repeat, each time using his mouth to jack me off a single thrust. My entire organ was being licked, every side of every inch, by one adventurous fellow.

Already in the highest peaks of pleasure I had ever reached, in my unrelenting expanding horniness, I listened for what that horniness was going to make me become, what it needed me to be, to do. And it didn't answer something to have happen to me. But what to do to him.

Right on time, Simon came up, heaving a bit, holding me, watching my face to see whether he was making me happy. I had such energy in me and I needed to put it somewhere and the answer was obvious. I ignored my body's request to cum and answered a louder request. Half with my hands and half with my voice I requested him back up on the bed and didn't wait a second for his comfy repositioning, or even for him to really get fully on the bed.

As he clumsily descended, I nuzzled him all the way into me and drank whatever fluid he had been generating. I spent a moment bobbing, using the sharp angles of the head and the satiny wall of his testicles as landmarks, but I kept coming back to my happy place, feeling his whole shape perfectly inside me, letting his own squirms stimulate him.

I didn't know whether that made him or me the top: the fact that it was him that was humping, but only in uncontrolled whimpering little spasms of pleasure.

Does it really matter? Maybe neither of us was in control of the other. It was like we were a team, that we were teaming up to make him cum, neither of us knowing perfectly how.

He yelped new sounds. I wasn't sure whether this was it. But if so I was about to learn something about myself. So I filled my mouth with new saliva, chose a few fingers to keep his shaft in one position, and gave him the softest longest bobs I could. His whispered groans were my only hint and even then I wasn't sure.

There wasn't a single eruption. But as I moved him in and out of me, in a two second transformation my mouth became hotter, fuller, and way saltier. I had decided many seconds ago not to stop when this happened. I knew what it was like in those first few seconds after. And I realized I had chosen a moment ago, maybe a year ago, that in this moment I would gulp without stopping.

And it was working.

The moment came when I realized the saltiness was gone. I was still sucking. The one piece of experience to draw on was that he must be very sensitive right now. I didn't disappear from his penis, but I slowed, and stopped. And I gradually slid him out. On the way out I brought with me a little of the extreme saltiness and swallowed it. It was thick-feeling, I wanted it down.

I looked at what was in my hand, as it flexed, a little softer now but not a LOT softer.

As I pet him softly, and he autonomically gave two more flexes, a little more emerged, and I decided to deliberately just plunge, and so I softly went down again, placing my gently sealed mouth around him, and swept the aftershock of cum up with a few soft flicks of my tongue.

And I came up. My breathing had finally slowed. His had not. He was staring at me, finally convinced that yes, this was absolutely happening. I smiled, sheepishly shrugged, and said with a breathful of cum,

"So I have good news."

".....Yeah? Uh-huh?"

"You have a neighbour that enjoys drinking cum. And thinks that your penis is beautiful."

We grinned at each other, and just breathed. I ended, "I think this is going to happen again."

Simon was obviously very happy about this, and then seemed to have a check-in with himself, and looked bashful, maybe even nervous. I wondered why, and then something occurred to me. About him having just cum.

"Simon?"

"Yeah?"

"Does your desire to do this with a guy disappear when you cum?"

He looked surprised, more surprised than sheepish, so he answered,

"Yeah! How did you know that??"

"Because me too. And that's okay."

"Really? It's okay?"

"Absolutely. It has to be!"

"...Well, what do we do? I mean, does that mean only one of us can be happy? I mean all of that was VERY happy, going either way, but... you know...?"

We thought for a moment.

It may have hit us both at the same time.

The next hour was almost indistinguishable from any other time students scheduled and planned. Okay, we were butt-naked, but otherwise pretty much the same.

We reconciled our academic schedules, tying in such factors as roommates, project deadlines, and student crowd patterns. Despite our heavy course regimen and other stuff, we noticed a few very convenient overlapping stretches of time every week. One was during Sunday morning. One was Wednesday between 11:30 and 1:30. One was Friday before 08:30.

This however didn't solve the "Horniness Doctrine". The Horniness Doctrine, as we gleefully defined it, states that you can't plan when you're going to be horny, and if you try to get sexy when you're not horny, it's "only okay", which isn't conducive to enjoying the act whether you're giving or receiving, which was the whole point. Article 2 of the horniness doctrine demands mutual, eager, hungry horniness is a necessary condition for a visit.

But how. We could send each other messages, but it felt too much like pressure. The last thing either of us wanted was to have sex with someone who was only "okay" with that. Article 3 of the Horniness Doctrine states that conditions are only right if both parties, hypothetically, are in a state of mind that they would have an enthusiastically good time even if they were only there to kneel and give the other person pleasure.

The final article of the Horniness Doctrine is that "Yes" is Opt-In, with no prompt, and otherwise it doesn't happen.

There, on Simon's couch, we formalized our little system, with our student Microsoft Teams interface: if, shortly before either of these times, during a boring class or study session or evening, one becomes BORED-bored, he sets his status to "Do Not Disturb". This does not represent a request, just a fact. In fact we agreed not to even look at each other's status unless ours was on. It was a good "no weirdness" system. In theory.

Any time it just so happens that both of us have that status active (and there shall never be any feeling of pressure to get on the bandwagon), then we would meet in Simon's room. Unambiguously for sex. (This sounds bold, but as we wrote it it was all just hypothetical.)

Simon's bedroom wall now sported an arrow tacked to a post-it, pointed to a penciled-in "J" or "K", indicating whose "turn" it is in case we forget. But either way, before that agreed conclusion, we both spend as much time mutually pleasuring each other as we please. Okay, as much time as we had, these weren't huge openings of time. But we were sexually awakening college boys. Spoiler: we never once ran late. We didn't have the patience to make our sex that slow. We were actually having sex!

The final part of the arrangement: after whoever's turn it is cums, the other can stay and make himself cum or leave to do it alone.

We looked at it all. It was solid. We just nodded. Naked on a couch.

Simon broke our silence.

"So... I don't actually know what it's like to, y'know, finish a guy off. Who knows whether I like it? Maybe I should... try? Right now? Before we agree to anything."

"Simon, you won't enjoy it when you don't want it, remember? You'll only ever know once you're already horny. And until then? We haven't agreed to anything. Nothing is set about any of this except that consent is very very opt-in. There's no hurry, right?" We nodded and smiled once more.

"Wow. There's no hurry."

"I guess so! There's no hurry because we'll have sex again."

"Yeah. Wow!"

"Right? It's a 'wow' for me too. We get to have sex! With someone who really really wants to!" I considered. "That's why it's so important that we wait until both of us are like, dying for it. It can never be a chore. It should only ever be... fun, and hungry, and needy, and... y'know? And for both. God, I can't imagine trying to be naked with someone who doesn't really want to be there. That sounds horrible. So we wait, right?"

Simon was nodding the whole time. "That's why, for our own sanity, we don't even look at the other's status unless yours is a green-light too. No pressure. Should we, like... make a no-masturbate clause, to wait for each other?"

"Naw. I mean... I might just do that, because that sounds more fun, but no clauses about someone else's body."

"Wow. We're really doing this. Is this what people who have sex do?"

I laughed. "Um. I may be new, even naïve, but I'm taking a guess this is way more mature and healthy and fun than how most people do it." We nodded. Simon saw in me a disturbing thought.

"What? What's wrong?"

"I'm an idiot. We came up with this whole system, but I completely forgot that I haven't had my turn yet. What if you do it and you hate it? Simon, you've got to tell me if you hate it, we've got to stop if you hate it."

"Hey. Look, we did SOME STUFF, both ways. And I don't know what it's like to... take you all the way... but if I hate that part? I don't know, maybe I'd spit, or just jack you off at the end. I don't know, something. But like, I think I'll still want most of it. Well... I THINK I will. I've never had sex... until now... and so I don't know if all this goes away or if it comes back the same."

"You'll tell me if it goes away? We never have to do this again."

"Yeah, I will. But knowing me, I'm NOT done........"

"Yeah, apparently not!" We both looked down at Simon's returned erection. He smiled sheepishly, and flexed it once.

"Oof. Yeah. Still way too sensitive, but good eye, looks like something still interests me! Wow. You really just sucked me."

"YEAH I did" I said with a toothy smile.

Simon turned away and smiled out the window for a moment, and then back at me, with:

"I'm really glad I read your laptop while you slept."

"I'm really glad I caught you. I'm really glad I met you." Hm, a bit sappy. "And I'm really glad you have tasty cum." There!

It had been two days.

"What the reader has to realize is that this is two plays in one, with completely different tones; and what you have to realize is that it's a complete construct that you're a reader, because originally, you'd be a spectator. And imagine this scene, and imagine it being done, in that century, in a way that doesn't look ridiculous. Your choices are 'man in a bear costume' or 'shadow puppets'. In short, this was meant by The Bard to look so stupid it transformed the play into a comedy."

This was too much for 09:30 in the morning. My erection was so pronounced the moment I woke up even I was attracted to it. I resisted. But hearing an extremely lengthy take on one of the more pointless Shakespeare plays was a bit too much. The boringness had a very counterintuitive effect on me.

My lecture was a two-hour, 08:30-10:30. I must have been a self-destructive idiot to choose a course with that timeslot. It was 09:15. I glanced around at the hall, as though anyone else cared what was on my particular screen. This lecturer was a bit vigilant, he pointed out someone was using the mouse way more than the keyboard and came to investigate. I guess he doesn't know about Alt-F4. (Don't press that right now.)

Anyways, I Alt-Tab-Tabbed to Teams. I set my status to "Do Not Disturb". Glancing around one more time, and spending another sentence looking engaged at the lecture, I expanded the one-man group I put Simon in.

Nope.

No dice. I listened for a few more minutes, tried to make some notes. Maybe Simon was being cheeky and checking in on me? Maybe he would match me? I checked. Nope. Not this time.

As the lecturer demonstrated the shadow-puppet approach with his own props, something occurred to me, and I tried to watch the lecturer while I processed this thought. Maybe he wasn't going to light up his status because it was my turn? Maybe he didn't want it after all? I mean, that's fair... That would be okay. It would suck, but that would be okay. Then I considered a new thought... if he decided he was a 'taker', would I want that? I think I just might... but it would be a bit awkward.