After a bit, Kenny touched me again on the shoulder, lightly: "Well... you want your turn? I'll do it, if you want." My turn? I felt a little odd, hearing that - it was like being on my hands and knees receiving him was my turn, in a sense - but I knew what he meant. And I definitely wanted to try it the other way, too. I was getting back to normal. My butt still hurt. But I could live with that. I said, "Yeah - let's do it. Let's go ahead. I think I'm ready."

Kenny told me later that he was anxious to get fucked, too, and his big fear was that I was too wasted or too sore to do it. But I was ready. I wasn't sure until he got into position, and I got this blinding bolt of lust that overwhelmed me. But let's take things in order...

As we talked, I'd turned so I was sitting (very gingerly) on the straw. Now Kenny looked at my cock, and his gaze made me aware that I wasn't hard any more. (I have no idea when I lost my erection, but I doubt it was still there after he entered me.) I knew what he was thinking. I said, "I think I can get it up... why don't you get on your hands and knees, and I'll try." He said "Want me to suck it first?"

It was a genius thing for Kenny to say, at that moment. That word was charged for us. I don't know at what point it began happening, but somewhere early in our relationship, we both realized that just saying the word "suck" to each other got us horny. This wasn't all that much of a blessing. The word "suck" came up very frequently in the conversation of 15 year-old boys, and it seldom has anything directly to do with sex. It was okay, usually, if Kenny and I were with a bunch of friends, and one of us said casually, "yeah, that sucks", or whatever. It was common enough that the meaning was detached from the word.

But sometimes, I could say the exact same thing - "yeah, that sucks" - same tone of voice, everything; and it would strike me the other way, and I'd look at Kenny, and he'd look at me... That was always awkward, when it was more than the two of us. As I said, I don't usually get spontaneous erections. But you don't have to get a boner for your friends to realize that the look you're exchanging isn't innocent (or for you to imagine they're realizing it.) Moreover, Kenny did get spontaneous erections. And with the size of his cock, he couldn't hide it, and that was really awkward.

Luckily, it didn't get that serious more than a few times. And luckily, adolescent boys don't pay much attention if you abruptly walk away and then come back after a few minutes. Saying "excuse me", and feeling constrained by protocol, doesn't show up much until you're an adult, in my experience.

Anyway, back to the barn: When Kenny said "suck" - and particularly the way he said it, then - I felt myself responding, inside. I said, "You can, but I don't think you need to." He said, "Okay, whatever." (That sounds dismissive, written down, but it was cheerful in our context. Back then, "whatever" wasn't a synonym for "I don't care", as it is today.)

Without further discussion, Kenny got into position, exactly where I'd been a few moments earlier. He'd left his tube of KY back there, so I went back and retrieved it and got on my knees directly behind his butt. I looked at him - vulnerable, like I'd been. Kenny's butt-crack was shallow, not a cleft like mine, and in that position, his anus was clearly exposed. Receptive. His thighs were apart, and his balls were hanging there, and I could glimpse something beyond them - his big cock, hanging down. And his anus, ground zero, like a bull's-eye.

I looked at him for a second - no more than that. And out of nowhere, I felt this huge bolt of electric lust. This wasn't a new feeling, unlike those others - just good old-fashioned sexual electricity. It was a welcome friend, right then. It drove the thought of my pain and my zoned-out state way, way into the background.

I guess some would say that my true nature - Danny, the perpetually horny kid - was resurfacing. Maybe so. In any case, that was all it took. I got a hard- on as fast as it's ever happened.

I didn't want to waste any time. I squeezed a giant glob of KY on my two fingers and another glob on my thumb, and started coating my dick, as Kenny looked back at me over his shoulder. I had to pause a minute and get my damn shirttails out of the way - they kept falling down and covering up my dick. I briefly thought about taking off my shirt, but settled for rolling it up to my chest, like Kenny had done.

I finished lubing my dick, then squeezed another glob on the tip of my finger. i didn't have any better idea of how to proceed, so I was going to do the same thing Kenny had done - get my finger in, then pull it out fast, and replace it with my cock before his sphincter clamped down too tightly.

I got between his legs, having to nudge them farther apart just as he had to do with me. (Kenny had lost the pants and underwear at some point earlier; like me, he was naked from the chest down except for socks.) I whispered "Gonna touch you now, here comes." And I touched his anus with my slick fingertip. He flinched... and then relaxed. And then I felt him flex. I pushed immediately, not too hard and not too soft, and his anus opened right up and accepted my finger.

At this angle and position, I was able to get my finger nearly all the way inside his butt. He made a small noise. I whsipered, "Okay?" and he nodded. (I guess a basic proposition of anal sex between two boys, is that the receiving partner isn't supposed to talk. :)) I left the finger in a moment, then moved it in and out, trying to coat the insides as much as I could. He didn't moan again, but I could hear him breathing.

I said, "I'm gonna put it in now... ready?" He nodded, quickly, and then I saw him grab the straw, as I had done. Smart, I though - he's getting ready for it to hurt before it hits. Wish I'd thought of that.

I moved up closer, maneuvering my dick with my left hand so it was touching the bottom of my right index finger still inside him. Then I shifted the hand to his hip. I counted: "On three - one, two, three." And on three, I pulled my finger out, and quick as I could, got the head of my dick against his anus, and pushed.

It worked even better than when he did it to me. I slid right in, all the way past the ridge, and stopped. Kenny gasped, as I had. I knew what that meant, and I was expecting it. I whispered, "How's it feel? You okay?" He whispered back, "Yeah... it doesn't hurt all that much." The difference between 5.75 inches, thin, and 7.75 inches, thick. :)

At that moment, it felt awesome - incredible. It was hot in there - alot hotter that a boy's mouth. And his anal ring gripped me, right below the head, where it felt the best. My butt still hurt, but this almost overcame that. Not quite, but close.

I pushed, and my erection slid in further. I was about one-third buried already. I stopped to check on Kenny's state. But he was quiet, just breathing hard. He was still clutching the straw. But I got the sense it wasn't hurting him the way I had hurt.

And now for "something completely different", as Monty Python would say. Kenny and I had this minor running tease about how your toes curl up during sexual excitement, especially when you're coming. We both did that; so had other partners. And now, in the pause and the silence, out of nowhere, I got the utterly ridiculous - but irresistible - urge to check. I looked down at Kenny's feet. They were inside his socks, which were black, and in the dim light I couldn't tell at first... but then I saw it: Yep. Curled up. :)

I laughed out loud. The whole idea was so ludicrous. Here we were, in this intense situation, and suddenly I got the urge to check out his damn toes. Kenny whispered, "What?" It seemed too ridiculous to explain. So I whispered back "Nothing - tell you later." He didn't pursue it, and after we were done we both forgot about it. But it was too funny not to remember; and that weekend, when we were going back over the whole thing, I told him, and he found it just as funny as I did. :) That kind of thing - humor in the middle of somewthing intense - happens to me alot. I still think it's great. :)

Well, back at the scene: I'd let go my dick by this time, and was holding both Kenny's hipbones. I pressed, and slid in another little bit. I was over halfway up his butt. Now, for the first time, I felt him tense up. I froze, whispered: "Okay?" He didn't answer for a few seconds, and I was getting a little worried. Then he said, "Yeah, it hurts now... inside. But I'm okay." I said, "I think that inside hurt will go away... mine did." He said, "Okay, but go slow... how much farther do you have to go?" (In retrospect, his choice of words, versus mine, is interesting: I wondered how far in he'd gone from the tip; Kenny wondered how much farther in till I reached the root. Not sure what that means, except that he expected me to go in all the way. I never thought he would get even close to fully burying himself in me. Size difference again? Or psychology? Who knows?)

I didn't think of it that way at the moment, of course. I said, "I'm about halfway." He nodded. I rested, gave him time to adjust. Then I pushed, as gently as I could, and went in a fraction farther. Kenny didn't react, that time, so I figured it was better, or at least no worse. (I didn't want to bug him by asking every millimeter, as long as he seemed okay.) I pressed again. Unlike me, he wasn't impaling himself, helping. It didn't bother me. I knew he hadn't read my books.

Another push. This was far enough that I felt my pubic hairs touching his butt. He felt it too, and whispered, "That tickles!... Are you all the way?" I said, "No, but not far to go." I hadn't thought about it before now; things had moved along before it occurred to me. But now it did occur to me that it would be really cool if I could bury the bone completely.

I guess this is one of those Murphy's Law things: as soon as you think something like that, a monkey-wrench gets thrown into the works. I pressed a little farther now - probably an inch left outside his anus, no more. But he gasped again, and got tense; and this was a bigger reaction than any so far. I felt him quiver a little under my hands. That didn't seem good. I said, "Okay? Does that hurt?" He nodded, and in the dimness I could see his teeth were clenched.

We waited. It was like my experience earlier. Gradually he lost his tension. I could feel it leaving his body. I whispered, "Better now?" And he nodded, and whispered "Yeah... but man, for a minute there I thought you were spearing my guts." I knew what he meant - that deep, interior pain. Poor kid. I knew - no fun.

I whispered "Is it going away?" He nodded... and then added, "Not all of it." I felt a momentary pang of regret - damn, I wasn't gonna be able to go all the way up his butt - and then stifled it, feeling ashamed for wanting that at my friend's expense. I stifled it, but I still felt disappointed. Not one of my prouder moments, but I'm being honest. And unfortunately, it got worse.

I said, "I want to try it in and out. Can I? Or does it hurt too much?" Kenny whispered, "No, go ahead." So I pulled out, slowly, till just the head was inside; waited a few seconds to see if he'd react; he didn't, so I pushed back in. I stopped a little short of the depth I'd gone before. Kenny was breathing hard, but seemed okay.

And now, something else completely different. No Monty Python here. This was not fun. That in-and-out stroke - just that single one - caused one of the weirdest sexual experiences I've ever had. Two things happened: (a) It immediately made my anus and my rectum start hurting again - not as badly as when Kenny was fucking me, but bad enough to kill my enjoyment; and (b) a second or two after I noticed the pain, I noticed something else: I was ejaculating. I had never, ever ejaculated before without the electric-tickle feeling of orgasm. It was really weird - so much so, that at first I didn't believe I was shooting. But I was - the evidence was there, when we finished.

I still don't know what that was all about. I'm sure the two were connected. Maybe the contractions of my ejaculation caused my anus and rectum to ache and sting again. Or, the other way around - maybe the pain directly triggered my ejaculation. (I've never noticed in myself the slightest connection between pleasure and pain - physical or mental - but maybe this was the exception.) Or, possibly I had a regular, pleasant exciting orgasm - but the feeling was totally masked by the returning pain. I don't know. I guess the only way to find out is to have anal intercourse again, receiving and then penetrating, and see what happens. I don't foresee that. Unless my wife wants to try a dildo on me, and I don't foresee that either. :)

Anyway, I knew when I felt my come spurting out that it was all over. I pulled my cock back out of Kenny's rectum. It was going soft by now, and I didn't see any need to linger, so I just pulled it all the way out. That startled Kenny, and he sort of jerked a little, and then said, "What's up? Why did you do that?" I said, in a sulky, whiny voice, "Why do you think? I came. It's over." Kenny said "No way. You just started." I said, "Don't tell me 'no way', man. I did come. Put your finger up your butt if you don't believe me." He just looked at me a second, and then looked away. I knew I'd hurt him.

This was the low point to the whole experience - then, and now. At the time, it was a low point because I was really disappointed with my experience. I felt like I was robbed of an orgasm, and that all I had to show for it was a sore butt.

It's a low point to me now for a different reason. I couldn't care less anymore about the orgasm - what's one orgasm in the scheme of things? My low point now is that I was a selfish bastard. I thought only of myself, at that moment. Totally selfish, and I'm not proud. But this is autobiography, and I won't leave out the unflattering stuff. I turned selfish sometimes even when I knew it was wrong - at nine years old, at eleven, at fifteen. I still do.

If you've read the narrative about the first time I had sex with a girl at age 14, you know how I acted when that was over. This was the same thing, only in mirror-image. Instead of celebrating my great new thrill, I was pissed about my lousy, cheaty lack of a thrill. Both times, my partner somehow got left out of the picture.

I'm lucky that Kenny was a really good-natured guy. I usually am, too. After a few minutes he was over it, and I was over it, too. But sometimes, you want to turn back the clock - not to relive the whole past, but just to change one or two specifics. That time after fucking Kenny is one of the specifics that I'd change. And that time after fucking Julie is another. I'd think of my partners (my girlfriend, my boyfriend) instead of me.

You can't turn the clock back, of course. And so I'm not beating myself up over it now. But it's not one of my prouder moments, like I said.