It was summer, and my friend Chris and I were mucking around in the woods when we found a page from a porn mag. We both stared at it hard. Neither of us had a girlfriend, and we hadn't seen a great deal of naked women before.

Seeing this woman, with her legs open and lingerie pushed aside, was one of the most exhilarating things I had seen in my life.

We spotted another page nearby and eagerly ran to collect it and absorb more images into our young minds. A hunt began, and soon we had rounded up the entire magazine. We dutifully arranged them into page order so we could read it completely.

We sat side by side on a fallen tree trunk, in our tight 1980s football shorts, to read it. Soon we were getting physically excited. Our hard-ons were pressing against our shiny polyester shorts. I could see the shape of his cock, right beside me, clearly pressed against his tight shorts. He could see mine.

I felt mesmerised by the sight of his erection. I had never seen anyone else’s.

I don't recall which one of us made the suggestions that day, but I don't think either of us was pushing the other into anything. Every step was mutually desired, and our eagerness was equal.

We could clearly see each other's erection pressing awkwardly in our shorts. Football shorts back then tended to be tight and small even when things were at rest.

I could see Chris fidgeting and trying to adjust his shorts to get comfortable. I was dealing with the same predicament. At this stage, we were pretending not to look at each other. Although we kept catching each other looking, so we were failing at that.

All the while we were turning the pages and taking in every new and arousing sight. With the pages loose, we had to work together to hold them. I was on the left and held each page we had turned on my bare legs. Chris was on my right and held the rest of the magazine on his legs.

The bottom of the pages rested almost on our bulges. They were far too obvious to ignore. Eventually one of us said something about it.

As soon as we started talking, it was a big relief to both of us. To ease our embarrassment, we agreed it was a perfectly normal thing to happen. I think our excitement at the pictures was also overriding the awkwardness.

We discussed how nice erections felt and how we both liked to stroke ourselves when we had the chance. As we talked, we realised we weren't going to get laughed at or look silly.

It seemed to give us licence to look at each other more openly. I think it was becoming more of a safe space for both of us to be able to say what we really felt.

We agreed that it would be ok to rub our cocks through our shorts.

I was deeply fascinated as I watched Chris, holding the pages in his left hand, grip his shaft through his shorts and start moving his right hand.

I felt incredibly conscious that he was watching me, as I did the same. It felt wonderful to finally answer the demands of my throbbing cock.

Both of us were panting a bit and red-faced. The pictures on the pages were getting increasingly stimulating.

Also, though, we were looking at each other, as much as we were looking at the magazine.

I was fascinated to see how Chris stroked himself differently to me. My hand was moving back and forth along my shaft. He now had his hand still and was moving his hips to make his cock slide through his grip.

I was absolutely mesmerised at the sight of him doing that beside me. I had seen magazines with women in before but never another boy stroking his cock. Also, it was much more affecting having a real person doing something. I could feel the warmth of his thigh against mine.

Everything about him and what he was doing was so much more vibrant than the magazine. We were both so turned on and, by now, we were both looking at each other openly without embarrassment.

We were both finding it difficult in the confines of our tight shorts. It was almost painful.

We talked about how it wouldn't be so bad to push our shorts down and get our cocks out. Neither of us was saying anything about wanting to see each other. Officially, we were just being practical, to make it easier to stroke ourselves as we looked at the women.

We made each other promise that this would be our deadly secret. We both knew neither of us could tell anyone.

We stood and faced each other and agreed to do it on the count of three. We agreed we would pull our shorts and underwear completely down and off. I think we were both so turned on that neither of us was contemplating the other wimping out and being the only one exposing themselves.

Luckily, when the moment came, we both whipped everything down and off. I remember staring at his cock bobbing in front of me. With a small patch of brown pubes above, much like mine.

We both stared for a few seconds before we sat down and picked up the pages again.

I remember being acutely aware of his bare skin against mine. The sides of our thighs and naked bums in contact. Now I could see his hand moving on his naked shaft. His foreskin moving back and forth below his purple helmet. His cock was slightly longer and narrower than mine. It was totally straight. Mine was slightly thicker and shorter, with a slight curve upwards.

He was staring at me as I stroked myself. I remember enjoying the feeling of him seeing me. I felt like I was putting on a show for him, as he was for me. We were both stroking ourselves for the other to see. We kept looking up to check where the other was looking. I opened my legs wider, pressing my bare skin against his. I was enjoying the feeling of exposure; both to his view and to the cool outside air lightly caressing the skin of my cock and balls.

Somehow, we contrived to talk about imagining what it would feel like for a girl to stroke our cocks for us. What if one of the women in the magazine did it? How much better it must feel when someone else does it for you.

Despite the pretence, I think we both knew where we were heading. We just needed to dress this up as something it wasn't. We both needed to set the scene. We couldn't admit anything was happening between us. We weren't doing anything gay. This was purely doing each other a favour.

Right from when I first saw it exposed, I had wanted to hold his cock. I couldn't admit that though.

We agreed that feeling someone else holding our cock would be amazing. We would look at the pictures and pretend it was the woman doing it.

Tentatively, we both reached over and took hold of each other.

The feeling of Chris's hand on me was mind-blowing. His strong fingers wrapped around me.

I also couldn't quite believe I was gripping his warm, hard cock. It felt so different from holding my own.

We both started stroking each other. We weren't looking at the magazine at all. We were both totally into what we were doing with each other.

Our naked bottom halves were side by side, pressed firmly against each other. We were looking at each other’s cocks and then making eye contact.

As soon as we had touched each other, things had changed. We were no longer doing some for ourselves in tandem. Now we were very definitely getting off with each other. Our faces were closer together than before.

Chris was looking at me strangely. His mouth was slightly open, and he was making slightly high-pitched moans as I stroked him.

I felt a strong urge to kiss him. I don't know why, but it felt like it should be part of what we were doing. But I knew we were still kind of pretending we weren't doing anything gay. It was all about imagining a girl was doing something for us

But the feeling persisted. Chris had his forehead against mine like he wanted to kiss too but didn't dare make the move. We were both panting, almost into each other's mouths. I could feel his fingers moving up and down my cock and over my balls. I could feel his shaft throbbing and twitching in my hand.

I got the idea to ask him if he wanted to practice kissing too. If we closed our eyes, we could pretend it was a girl.

He didn't need asking twice.

Almost instantly we turned into each other and put our open mouths together. Neither of us had French kissed anyone before, but it just happened naturally.

Stroking each other and kissing. We were moaning into each other too. I remember Chris was making high-pitched whimpering noises as our tongues entwined. They were getting more frequent, and he briefly broke the kiss to ask me to move my hand quicker now.

We both sped up our stroking and went back to kissing. Chris was making almost squeaks as he shot his load. I could feel his warm cum all over my fist.

This sent me over the edge, and my own orgasm followed almost immediately. Chris pumped me fast, and I moaned as spurt after spurt shot out from his pumping fist.

We stopped kissing and sat still, slowly stroking the last quivers of orgasm out of each other.

Quite quickly the atmosphere changed. We let go of each other and quickly dressed and cleaned up.

Embarrassment returned. We promised never to talk about it.

And we never did. It seems strange now, but somehow, we went to pretending it never happened. Both of us were fearful of being exposed as "gay".

Weirdly, I think the whole experience also empowered us both to make moves with girls.

Chris got a girlfriend soon after. Things also changed between the girl next door and me. Yes really. She lived next door. To be fair, there weren't many other houses within a few miles of us anyway.

My love of women and their bodies was ironically kick-started by that moment with Chris.

For a few years, that experience with Chris was something to be hidden. However, the memory of that time is buried deep in my psyche. Increasingly, through adulthood, my fantasies have become far more flexible.

Looking back at that experience now and recalling what happened turns me on a great deal.

I hope you enjoyed it too.