He lay down over the object of his lovemaking, and pulled his giant penis up under him and began to thrust. I was a little worried, since so far nothing seemed to change from my previous encounter with his masturbation technique. It was already hot in the little tent, but it seemed to become like a sauna. He was upping the temp with his own body heat rising and I was getting hot watching this unfold in front of me once again and this time in broad daylight.
Joe began humping his sleeping bag in earnest. The workout of arching his back to miss landing on his cock on the inward thrust was a sight to behold. His muscular ass rose high in the air and then he clenched his butt cheeks together as he thrust in. All this extra maneuvering in the hot confines of our tent caused him to glisten with perspiration in no time.
I made no bones about the fact that I was just sitting there watching him. He didn’t seem to mind. He kept very focused on his task and was able to tune me and anything else out to keep working up to a climax. My own cock was already stiffening up again as I just watched Joe work his teenage body as it pumped and flexed. At every inward thrust his back would arch showing me his mighty pink cock.
As he worked harder, he began letting out small grunts. My fears were starting to return. His breathing became more labored as his intensity grew. His penis looked angry and seemed to turn bigger and redder at every thrust of his hips. The sweat started to gather and drip from his body as he moved rhythmically.
I would have thought that the hot, moist conditions would start to make masturbating using his technique next to impossible. His penis and underside became sweatier, but he just kept plowing into his bedding without a single pause for air or to regain his composure. His glistening flesh just kept grinding. His grunts started to build up in a slow crescendo. Joe seemed to realize what this would mean and buried his face in his pillow to attempt to hide the vocal manifestations of his lovemaking. He took in air on his upstroke and as he released air he grunted, groaned and growled into his pillow.
He needed more oxygen to keep going, so he ended up releasing more spent air, thus making more noise into his pillow. Sweat was wiped away from his sides and underside on his bag as his humped into it. Stains of sweat formed in pools radiating around his muscular frame. I don’t know how he kept his pace up.
I didn’t even realize that I was touching myself until my cock spitted yet again with a trickle of cum. I noticed my breathing was elevated and I also was flush from the heat in the tent watching my big buddy.
His grunts turned more and more into groans as he kept flexing, almost as if he was in pain. Then without the procession of his last show he arched his back with a massive thrust and clenched his ass cheeks once again and kept them that way as he came. His head was buried in his pillow as he released his sperm into his bag.
While he kept his back arched, I could see his penis release its contents with every massive spurt. Each spurt had its own grunting noise coming deep with in Joe as his intensity was released. I could actually hear some of his releases of liquid squirt out of his penis and onto his bedding, and chest almost as if he was peeing in spurts of white. Then as he relaxed, the arch in his back subsided as he calmed down. His penis kept unloading until I lost sight of it underneath him. I was sure this load would be every bit as big as the one from the previous night.
His remained buried in his pillow, breathing giant breaths as he recovered from his exertion. His lungs filled up completely and then released moving his entire upper body up and down with each breath. He relaxed and remained in that position for some time slowly returning to a normal breathing pattern.
I almost thought he was going back to sleep. It was so hot; I didn’t think sleep for another minute in the tent would be possible. He seemed to return to the land of the living, and his head turned over to me. His hair was matted with his sweat.
He asked nonchalantly, “Quiet enough?”
I told him, “Barely, but I don’t think anyone noticed anything out of the ordinary.”
There were sounds of Coleman stoves being put together and pots and pans being used. I knew we’d be expected soon. I found my swimming suit lying outside my sleeping bag from last night and grabbed it and put it on in front of Joe without any qualms at all. I hoped he would follow my example for two reasons. The first being I wanted to see how he managed to put all of his meat away, and the second was that we needed to get moving.
He sat up and turned to face me sitting Indian style. His soft penis was drooping down between his legs with his cum still dripping out of his slit. I smiled and laughed when I noticed that he had a mixture of sweat and cum all over his smooth belly and chest. He saw what I was laughing at and cracked another grin and wiped himself off with his bedding.
I told him, “Too many more like the last couple you’ve had and your sleeping bag will be too crusty to sleep in!”
He laughed and looked at the huge wet mess he had caused and said, “It already is pretty crunchy. Not many soft places left.”
I could only guess that he had to be telling the truth as he had already christened his bedding at least three times in the last day. And judging from the amount of the loads I have seen him produce, I can only imagine that his other ones are just as comparable. I could only guess what he could unleash when he hadn’t spent his seed for a while. I told him, “Maybe we can find something else for you to use later.”
He smiled as he reached for his jock. He stuck he legs through and pulled it up to his midsection while he was still seated. He allowed me to see everything just as I had hoped he would. He grabbed his softening meat and tucked it down in the pouch. He positioned his cock head so it nestled below his balls and the remainder of his shaft arched around the front producing a huge bulge against the straining elastic material. He pulled up his shorts over the bulge and he quickly grabbed himself through his shorts, positioning his manhood right where he wanted it. In his shorts, the bulge from his penis’ position made it look as if it had become his cockhead. When I looked at him this time it was perfectly obvious that he was hung.
He saw me ogling him, and said, “Don’t worry it will go down.”
I realized that he meant he was still getting soft. I was still thinking of dumb questions, and before I could censor myself I asked him, “What happens when you get hard and you’re strapped in like that?”
He told me as a matter of fact, “It hurts really bad.”
I could only imagine this to be true. His jock already seemed strained to hold him in place while he was flaccid. Just imagine when his big meat starts growing against the elastic. Something has to give.
He said, “The best thing is to masturbate and loose my hard on, but when I am out and about, I usually have to just bear with the pain unless there is a restroom nearby. At least then I can ‘go to the bathroom’. At least usually the pain makes it go back down after awhile”.
I could only infer that going to the bathroom was a completely different experience for him than it was for me. It did explain way he always seemed to jump into a stall instead of going up to a urinal.
Another dumb question, “So when you do get hard and are out in public with out a restroom nearby…”
Joe interrupted me saying, “I just grin and bear it.” He then put is t-shirt back on helping to add to his deception.
I laughed and continued, “But how do you walk?”
He laughed patted me on the shoulder as he headed out to breakfast and said, “Slowly”.
By the time it took us to get dressed and arrange our sleeping bags to conceal anything that may be left behind, I could already tell that his masquerade would work. By the time we left the tent he was perfectly concealed to the average onlooker. I would have never guessed that he was hiding such a huge hunk of meat in his disguise.
Once Joe began to realize how much I envied him, and now envied his huge dong, he would needle me…but only me, and never let anyone else know what was going on. It was important to him that he not become known as Donkey Dick or Giant Joe. It was something to be kept between us…at least at this time in our lives. He wanted to be in control of who knew. I guess my reaction that night must have reinforced this notion. He wanted people to like him for him first…not his penis.
Later in life he shared it a lot more with others and me. I was just thankful I got to be included in any aspect of his life. I truly got to live vicariously through him many times. I have first hand knowledge of some of his experiences. To me, it is a gift. Some guys never get to have the knowledge of what having a big penis is like. I may not know what it feels like to own a penis Joe’s size, but I can at least say I know what it must be like.