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Boys In The Band 
by Paul Anderson (moreau@ktc.com)
 
***

Some of the Band members find enjoyment in each other 
on a band trip over night. (MMM-teens, youths, 1st-gay-
expr, mast, oral)

***

Goddammit how I hated guns! That sounds strange coming 
from a boy in Tennessee. I hated all guns... especially 
M-1 rifles. In the sophomore and junior years of high 
school, it was required that all male students take 
ROTC. This meant an hour class every day, and the 
wearing of wool Army uniforms every Monday and Tuesday, 
which meant we had to march or do exercise, mostly 
push-ups, no matter what the weather. 

From December through March, it was so fucking cold, 
your hands could drop off carrying an M-1 in ten degree 
temperatures, without gloves. Your platoon leader would 
make you stand at attention and come by for rifle 
inspection, which meant you had to click that bolt back 
on the count of "two", hand him the rifle to check for 
dirt, and push the automatic spring bolt closer down 
with your frozen blue fingers, hoping against all odds 
you could get your thumb out in time, before it slammed 
shut and you lost a finger. Fridays were always spent 
cleaning the goddamned thing, taking it apart, 
reassembling, followed by another inspection. 

There was no way in God's world that you could get out 
taking Rotsie for two years, your senior year, if you 
weren't a candidate of to becoming an officer, it was 
an elective and you could opt for gym class. I was not 
too popular with my ROTC class officers or army 
supervised instructors. I never seemed to pass 
inspection, which meant, my platoon was deprived of 
getting medals and they were forced to do extra 
pushups, due to my lack of army discipline. I was 
yelled at and screamed at constantly, and loathed by 
the guys in "G" platoon. 

One day during, third period English, I got stomach 
cramps and had to run to the bathroom to escape a 
diarrhea accident. I couldn't stop "going", and I 
stayed sitting on the john, missing half of my fourth 
period ROTC class (I was so sorry, ha, ha, ha). I went 
to the First Aid Nurse to get a swig of Kaopectate and 
a pass to get to class. When I arrived at F.A., the 
nurse asked how I was feeling and I said not so good. 
She told me to go into the back room and lie down for 
the rest of fourth period and she would send a note to 
my ROTC instructor. 

This was the first in a long series of chronic diarrhea 
attacks, that (for some reason) always hit me right 
before fourth period... I spent a lot of time lying on 
that cot. Needless to say, I got a "D" in the course. I 
would have flunked completely had it not been for the 
"A"'s I made on the manual tests on Wednesdays and 
Thursdays. I don't know how I survived nine months of 
this figurative and literal shit, but I made it through 
sophomore ROTC. Just short of suicide, I would have 
done ANYTHING to escape the junior year requirement. 

My best friend had found a way to escape, he played 
trombone in the marching and concert band. They were 
considered the ROTC band, and the only marching they 
had to do was the routines for Friday night football 
games, and two annual parades. The band NEVER saw a 
rifle or NEVER had to do pushups. I had a big problem. 
The only instrument I played was the piano and you sure 
as hell couldn't march with one of those strapped under 
your chin or to your back. 

Then I heard that two of the four band "managers" had 
graduated and the band director was looking for 
replacements. I had no idea what the duties were, but I 
would kill myself trying to fulfill the duties. I found 
out that a band manager was a glorified "water boy" or 
"gofor". You carried instruments, making sure that the 
one's belonging to the school, were always, shiny and 
clean. You had to keep the band members supplied with 
uniforms, music, and equipment. 

Hell, I would have taken 64 uniforms home and washed 
them by hand, weekly, to get out of junior ROTC... you 
see, that was the deal... it you were in the BAND, you 
were exempt from ROTC... and that's how my daily 
uniform consisted of white coveralls instead of army 
green pants, that scratched your legs so severely when 
you sweated and marched, in hot or cold weather, that 
you quite often bled from the chaffing you received 
daily. So I officially, became a band manager. I was so 
happy, you'd have thought I was the band captain... no 
more M-1's!!! 

The duties weren't difficult. The band's focal point 
was on the Tri-State Band Festival, held each year in 
Bristol, Tennessee. Our band had been No.1, in the 
state for years, so another superior rating was 
expected in this competition. It would be a four day 
trip. Via Greyhound bus. We would be sleeping in 
private homes, furnished by residents in Bristol, 
housing two, four, or six, whichever they could 
accommodate. 

I assumed I would be staying in a home with my best 
friend and "jerk-off" buddy, the trombone player. We 
had had many sexual encounters, jerking and sucking, 
since we were fourteen. These sessions helped me come 
to grips with the fact that I was queer and liked guys. 
It didn't work out that way with him. He enjoyed having 
sex with me, his best friend, but only because he was 
unable to find a girl to have sex with. But now that he 
was going steady, he didn't need me the way I needed 
him. He was my one and only and up until Delores came 
along, I had been his. 

I kept feeling that being surrounded by all these "blow 
boys", there must be one of them that had "queer" 
feelings such, as I. I looked at each boy in the band, 
daily, for that "look" that "movement" or clue... that 
"mating" call. 

I thought I had found one, a cute tall junior, slim 
build, beautiful blue eyes, encompassed by long black 
lashes, named Ernie. He played French horn in the 
concert band and "E" trumpet in the marching band. He 
was a cross between Richard Long and Sal Mineo. 

I, being a blonde, was always attracted to brunettes. I 
wasn't bad looking myself... I was six feet, trim, 
rather masculine... no one would have ever guessed what 
turned me on in my private masturbatory sessions. I 
mean, I was popular, dated girls on the weekend (for 
appearance sake), and showed a date a good time. I 
always took them to a fancy restaurant, followed by a 
movie or school dance. I always settled for a quick 
peck of a kiss at the door, NEVER opting to cop-a-feel, 
or making her feel uncomfortable. I would usually drive 
by my best friend's house to "get off" after I took my 
female date home. No one and I mean 'no one' ever 
suspected anything unusual about me. 

I tested my private waters by jerking off while 
thinking about Ernie, to see if he could make me 
excited. Now if I could only find some way to get him 
to reciprocate the feelings... if I could only find a 
way to get him, alone. I wondered if he had a roommate 
for the band trip. I would ask. I did. He didn't... and 
guess who signed up to share a room together? 

<><><> 

The band was ready and set to go. We had practiced a 
routine that couldn't be topped by any competition. The 
band would conclude its routine with the "1812 
Overture" and it was the manager's job to fire small 
cannons on the end of the marching field during the 
climax. We were all excited. The one thing we hadn't 
planned on was the weather. 

The temperature was to drop to around 10 degrees. This 
left a lot to be desired for those guys blowing in the 
mouthpiece of a brass instrument. God, it was cold! 
When we arrived, we got our rooming assignments. Ernie 
and I were to stay at the home of an Episcopal priest 
and his family; a wife, a teenage son and daughter. The 
son was a freshman in college, also studying for the 
priesthood. He was the perfect specimen of all good-
looking six-foot, blue-eyed, flat-top blonde. His name 
was Jim. He should have spelled his name "Gym", because 
he was muscles personified. 

Ernie and I were to share Jim's bedroom, giving us, his 
double-sized bed. He would sleep in a study on a couch 
in the study on the second floor to their manse. It 
adjoined the "our" bedroom. The family was terrific to 
us; feeding us a prepared family banquet. 

Jim asked Ernie and me if we were going to shower 
before bedtime, and if so, could he shower first, as he 
had to get up early and drive back to college. That 
suited us. We sat in the living room talking to the 
parents, when Jim entered the room stark naked, on his 
way to the bathroom. No one, the father, the mother, 
nor the sister, seemed to notice his nakedness. 

Ernie and I looked at each other in total amazement, as 
we had never seen a family so liberal. It would never 
occur to either of us to even let our dads see us nude, 
much less the whole family. It was such an "openness", 
we had never encountered. We presumed that the whole 
family was use to each other's privacy. But looking at 
Jim, standing their in all his glory, caused a pained 
boner in my pants that I knew would never go down all 
night, without assistance. His perfect face had the 
perfect body to match. 

He had only come in the room to remind his mother, to 
get him up early. I, cautiously, glanced at Ernie to 
see if he was crotch-watching. His eyes were glued on 
that religious icon, that I wanted to drop to my knees 
and worship. When Jim left, the conversation got 
burdensome, as I couldn't concentrate on what to say... 
neither could Ernie.

So after a few pregnant pauses, we said we were a bit 
tired from the bus trip and would like to settle in for 
the night. We thanked them for the hospitality and the 
meal, and trudged up the stairway to the bedroom. We 
had just opened our suitcases to pull out our pajamas 
when the naked god got out of the shower and came into 
our room. 

"Anything I can get you guys before you go to bed?" he 
asked. 

"No, no, we're fine... how about you, Ernie?" 

"Err, no, I'm fine... fine... we're both just fine." 

"Okay, you dudes have a good band festival, and I'll 
see you Friday night. Good night." 

"Good night." 

Jim left. 

"Do you believe that?" I asked Ernie. "I mean could you 
ever walk around your house, naked, in front of your 
parents and sister?" 

"No way! My mom would have me arrested, after she came 
to." 

"Have you ever seen a more beautiful body in your 
life?" 

"I wouldn't say he was beautiful," Ernie replied. "Guys 
are beautiful, but he certainly is built." 

I thought, Uh oh. I had better drop the subject rather 
than drop a few hair pins. I didn't know anything about 
Ernie's sexuality, but he had just hinted "homophobe". 
This meant that pajamas were in order. 

I turned my back to him on one side of the bed and 
began taking off my clothes. He did likewise. We donned 
our PJ's and crawled into bed, covering ourselves with 
a sheet, a quilt, two comforters, and a bedspread. I 
was around 5 degrees outside, and the room had a 
psychological chill in it, even though the house was 
well heated. We clicked off the light and lay there 
quietly. 

Then, from the study were heard a steady rhythmical 
thumping. 

"What's that?" Ernie asked. 

"I don't know. Maybe Jim is doing some exercises before 
going to bed." 

We listened closely to identify the movement by the 
sound. 

"I think Jim is beating off!" Ernie whispered. 

"I think you're right." 

The image of that Adonis body I had seen jerking off in 
the next room made me tent my sheet, a quilt, two 
comforters, and a bedspread. 

I grabbed my penis, trying to force it down... all the 
while, listening for more sound effects from the study. 
Maybe two minutes passed and we heard a moan, and a few 
gasps... Jim was cumming... all by himself. Jesus, what 
a waste of holy fluids. 

Then, a minute later, we heard his bare footprints 
heading toward the bathroom. When he got to the door, 
he reached his hand into the bathroom to turn on the 
light before he entered. Our door was cracked, and we 
could see the bathroom light spill across his body. He 
was clutching his crotch, covered by a handful of 
tissues. Ernie and I lay there watching and listening 
as Jim peed, flushed, turned out the light and tiptoed 
back into the study. 

"I wonder if he does that in front of his family, too?" 
I asked in a low voice. 

"Probably." 

The time was right for some probing. 

"Ernie, do you jerk-off?" 

"Occasionally, but I don't make a habit out of it... 
How about you?" 

"I-I... make a habit out of it." 

"Shit, man, you horny bastard, stay on your side of the 
bed," he joked. 

"I can't. My feet are cold, and I was going to ask you 
if I could warm them up next to yours." 

"I bet mine are colder than yours." 

"Let's see, stick out your right foot and touch my 
left." 

He slowly slid it over. Our feet touched. Damn, his 
WERE colder than mine. 

"OK, dammit, you win. Leave it there and maybe the body 
temperatures will warm them up." 

He left it touching mine. I took this as an invitation 
to allow the side of my calf and knee make additional 
contacts. Innocently, he responded by moving closer to 
me, so that the side of his thigh was now touching 
mine, through the pajamas. Once again we lay there, 
quietly, until he said, "Hey, are you hard?" 

"Like a rock." 

"Me too, but don't get any ideas... OK?" 

"OK." 

His right hand brushed my left thigh as he reached down 
to grab hold of himself. I was still grasping mine for 
dear life. I was making slow movements with my hand, 
not big enough to draw his attention. By the slight 
fanning of the covers, I sensed he was doing the same. 
I was about to burst inside with confined excitement 
until I flung the covers down to my knees and said, 
"Hell, Ernie, if we don't beat off, neither one of us 
is going to get to sleep." 

That was all the encouragement he needed. He raised his 
hips to pull his pajama bottoms down to his ankles. I 
did the same. We both grabbed out cocks and started 
jerking them forcefully. The main difference was that 
our "bare" legs were now touching from foot to hip. His 
right-hand stroking was causing his elbow to bump into 
my side. This let me monitor the speed of his stroking. 
I had no place to put my left arm and hand. During the 
movement, my hand was resting on the left side of his 
pelvis. 

Once again, I got the courage to pry, "What are you 
thinking about?" 

"Cumming. What are you thinking about?" he asked. 

I waited about ten strokes before I blatantly said, "I 
was thinking about Jim's naked body." 

"Hey, hey, do guys turn you on?" 

"This is a helluva time to say it, but, yes, at times." 

He stopped his hand thrusts to pursue the topic. 

"All guys? Some guys? Or just one guy in particular, 
say, like, "Jim". 

"Most guys, I guess Ernie." 

"Are you queer?" 

"Sometimes." (Well with my best friend any way). I 
thought about him and suddenly wished he were here so 
that I could "get off" properly. 

"Do I turn you on? Or just Jim?" 

"I'm not in the bed with Jim, right now, so I guess you 
can say that you turn me on. But don't worry, I won't 
do anything, that is... anything that you don't want me 
to." 

"Have you ever had sex with a guy?" 

"Several times... well, with one guy, several times." 

"Do I know him?" 

"Yes, he's in the band." 

"Who is he?" 

"Oh no, I don't kiss and tell. Have you ever done 
anything with a guy?" 

"No, never." 

There was a pregnant silence. I didn't know whether to 
start masturbating again, or wait for him to continue 
his query. 

He continued, "Suppose we were to do something, would 
you tell?" 

"I told you... I don't tell anything." 

"Would you like to touch me? I mean just touch?" 

"Only if you want me to." 

He waited about ten seconds and grabbed my hand and 
placed it on his swollen phallus. As soon as I touched 
him, his penis throbbed. 

"Jerk it, just a little." 

I grasped it and started a slow movement. 

"Oh, man, that feels good." 

My hand grew tighter and I started a steady beat. On 
the up slides, I could feel his pre-cum covering his 
glans. I took the side of my forefinger to catch some 
of the fluid and began using it to wet his entire 
shaft. He sighed and moaned, and I reached with my 
other hand to cup his balls. As soon as I did, they 
began to contract as his ball sac tightened. Without 
saying a word...he edged his hand over toward my crotch 
and let his hand envelop me. His hand was cold, but I 
knew that my cock heat would soon warm it. He started 
pumping me, matching me stroke for stroke. 

"Oh God, this feels wonderful..." he whispered. 

"Are you about ready to shoot?" I asked. 

"I'm almost there." 

"Don't cum, just yet. Let's play a little bit first." 

"What do you have in mind?" 

"Trust me." 

"OK." 

I finished removing my pajama bottoms and straddled his 
thighs so that our balls and cocks were nestled 
together. I reached down and grabbed both our dicks and 
began to masturbate them together. 

"Oh, God, this is TOO much." 

"Now let me know when you get close... so that we don't 
get any semen on the sheets." 

"I'm ready now... do you have some Kleenex or a 
handkerchief?" 

"No, but I have something better." 

"Well, you better get it because, here it comes." His 
hips began to jerk.

With that, I quickly lowered my head and engulfed his 
entire cock in my mouth. He came in jetting spurts. I 
caught the first one and swallowed it... then 
another... and another... seven, in all. His legs and 
toes flexed as his back stiffened and the back of his 
head pushed down into his pillow. 

I continued feeding on him until I felt his body begin 
to relax. My mouth was still filled with his cum, mixed 
with my saliva. I kept thinking, I've gone this far. I 
touched him, jerked him, gone down on him, swallowed 
his most intimate treasure, I might as well go a little 
farther and risk the whole deal.

I had nothing to lose, so I raised my head toward his 
and searched for his lips. I kissed him, tight-lipped, 
at first, and then I let just the tip of my tongue try 
to gain entrance into his mouth. 

I don't know if he was responding or trying to get his 
breath, but he opened his mouth and received a gush of 
cum, saliva, and hard tongue, all at the same time. He 
began to swallow the spunk and twirled his tongue over 
mine. I lowered my body, covering his, while giving him 
the most passionate kiss I have ever given anyone... 
male or female. 

He was so into this, that he wrapped both his arms 
around my back and pulled me into him. Our bodies, 
meshed together, began to roll onto our sides then back 
to his back, to the sides, once again, and then, as if, 
in a wrestling match, he rolled me onto my back, 
putting himself on top me, without ever stopping the 
long, long, kiss. The room was still dark, so I never 
once could see the expression on his face. Finally, he 
unlocked our lips. 

"I don't believe what just happened." 

"Did you like it?" 

"Oh, man, I've never felt anything like that in my 
life." 

"You're not mad?" 

"Only if you tell." 

"I told you... that's one thing I won't do." 

"Swear to God?" 

"I swear." 

He still didn't offer to move. He was still lying on 
top of me. He lowered his head to kiss me, once more. 
Either I had created a monster or I had unleashed a 
demon inside him that had been trying to get out for a 
long time. 

"You didn't cum, did you?" 

"No." 

"Want me to help?" 

"Only if you want." 

"What do you want me to do? I mean, how do you want to 
cum?" 

"It's your ball game. I'll lie here and you can do 
anything to me that you want, outside of beating the 
shit out of me?" 

He laughed. "Just lie back, and let me try a few 
things...this is all very new to me." 

"My body is yours, doctor." 

He kissed me again, briefly, and let his tongue start a 
saliva trail across my cheek, down my neck to my 
sternum. He moved his mouth over to my right nipple and 
flicked it with his tongue, then back to the quest. He 
went to my left nipple to even the sensation, then a 
slow crawl to my navel as he pushed his tongue in and 
out. I heard him breathe heavily, trying to dander up 
the courage to continue his downward journey. He did a 
few quick licks down the path of my pubic hairs leading 
to the blonde patch. He nuzzled his nose, at the same 
time flutter kissing the top of my shaft at the base. 

I locked his lips on the base and slid down toward the 
tip. He didn't take the tip in his mouth, instead, he 
continued his movement to slide down the underneath of 
my cock where he began kissing my balls. He steadied 
the sac with his hand while he took each one in his 
mouth separately, and then the entire scrotum. I was so 
hard, you could have run a flag up my pole. If he 
didn't suck me soon, I was going to be the only junior 
in high school with an enlarged prostate. I soon got my 
wish, as he took a plunge and took all of me into his 
mouth, down his throat, and gagged, gasping for air. 

"Just take a deep breath." I assured him. 

He began bobbing his head up and down with long, tight, 
wet, suction. I, suddenly, thought, that if I came in 
his mouth, with as much excitement as I had built up 
over the past four hours, he would probably choke to 
death. I decided to warn him that I was on the brink. I 
pushed his head back, but, NOTHING DOING. He had worked 
hard for his reward and he wanted it... so I gave it to 
him.

It must have been an all time record for me, as I had 
never ejaculated as much and as long as this before. He 
sputtered, gagged, swallowed, breathed, and dived for 
more until I was drained. My well was dry. He copied my 
action, like a mother bird. He ascended back to my face 
and began to tongue feed me, my own jism. Ernie had 
really gotten into this, and I was enjoying every 
minute of it. His kisses were so hot and heavy now, 
that there was no way I could have heard the footsteps 
coming toward the bed. 

"Hey!" a voice called. 

Ernie and I froze, completely. 

"I couldn't help but hear, what was going on in here? I 
just wanted to see if you guys were all right?" 

It was Jim, the blonde god. 

I waited for a few seconds to get some sort of signal 
from Ernie on what to do next. Finally I took the 
initiative. 

"No Jim, we're not all right... we were just cold and 
were trying to create some body heat." 

"I threw back all the covers and said, "Would you like 
to join us?" 

"Yeah, sure, I'd love to," he said as he joined us in 
bed, all three naked now, facing a cold winter's night. 

Jim leaned over and kissed me on the mouth, as Ernie 
lowered his head and joined us in a three-way oral 
linkage. 

END

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world 
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per 
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 48