Summer is slowly turning to autumn; the dark nights are beginning to draw in and the leaves are hinting that they might turn and fall very soon. The weather is getting more unpredictable and opportunities for me to walk with the camera are becoming fewer, with or without Paul to walk with.

He still likes to come around and watch a movie or two, usually on a Saturday or Sunday afternoon or evening. I’m getting more and more comfortable in his company. We are slipping into a routine that we are both at ease with.

We have our own ends of the sofa and Paul is happy to kick off his shoes and relax with his feet up. He loves to take the keyboard that is used to control everything, revelling in just being in charge of operations. I’m equally comfortable to let him take charge, casually dressed in a loose t-shirt and a pair of nice, warm, soft jogging pants.

This evening, our chosen movie has ended before nine and Paul is looking through the server, trying to find something that’s short enough for us to see before he has to head for home before his parents are on the phone shouting about his curfew. He stops the cursor on the ‘Adult’ folder.

“Alan, can we watch something from in here?” he asks quietly.

“Yes, of course. I said before that it was okay if you wanted to at any time.”

“Well, I do, but after we talked about it, I don’t want it to be embarrassing or awkward. It could be embarrassing, couldn’t it?” He’s at least thought about how we might react to the action on-screen.

“Yes, it could be embarrassing, and I understand. Do we need to set some ground rules or anything? Do we have to sit in silence and stare straight ahead at the screen at all times?” I ask him.

“I don’t think so, I might want to talk about what we’re watching, if you don’t mind. You know, just like we do with any other movie. We’re always pointing out stuff when we watch normal films.”

“Well, I’m glad you’ve considered the situation. Put whatever you want on then.”

Paul picks a title that sounds suitably corny and turns the volume down low. Soon, the preliminary ‘story’ has been played through and the first couple get down to the serious on-screen action. Neither of us are saying much, and Paul is clearly concentrating on the screen.

“I hate the fact that all these porn stars have to be so well endowed,” I say as the action heats up and the male star’s erection is being deep-throated by his willing partner. “Why can’t they make porn with average-sized guys. Actually, with girls with average sized boobs too.”

“I suppose it doesn’t sell as well that way,” Paul says. “Everything has to be bigger and better in the movies and that’s even more the case for porn.”

We are concentrating on the action and, for me at least, it appears to be having the expected effects. The guy in the scene is big and muscular, with a truly massive, nine- or ten-inch-long circumcised cock. His poor partner can barely get the head of it in her mouth. Inevitably, I’m paying more attention to him than the girl he’s getting intimate with. I have to slip my hand down inside the waistband of my jogging pants to adjust myself into a comfortable position.

Paul notices my movement and turns slightly to look in my direction. “Oh, are you hard?” he asks quietly.

“Fuck, sorry, but yes. The whole point of porn is to be a turn-on!”

“It’s okay, me too,” he whispers, moving his hand to show the obvious bulge in his jeans.

“Well, I knew this would be kind of embarrassing, but what can we expect when we are watching people fucking on a screen this big. Sorry if it makes you uncomfortable,” I tell him.

“Alan, I’m not uncomfortable about being hard, just uncomfortable being hard, if you know what I mean. Are you still cool?”

“Well, yes and no. I’m not uncomfortable or embarrassed about getting a hard-on, but I’m a bit conflicted about you being here, about the whole situation. It seemed so simple a couple of weeks ago, when I said you could watch porn anytime, but now I’m not so sure it was the right thing to suggest.”

“Why, what’s bothering you?”

“Well, I know you’re nearly seventeen, but I’m so much older than you and that age difference makes me a little uncomfortable. I don’t want to feel that I’m placing you in a situation you aren’t comfortable with. I’m not going to abuse any position of trust I feel I might have.”

“Okay, Alan, I get it. This isn’t child abuse or grooming. Not even close as far as I can tell. I’m not a child. I’m free to do whatever I want, with whoever I want and you’re not a teacher or my guardian or something. There’s no law covering this that’ll get you in trouble.

“So, if I want to watch a porn film with you and we get aroused, that’s not your fault or something for you to worry about. I’ll soon tell you if I’m feeling uncomfortable or don’t want to do something.”

We sit for a minute or two in silence, the action in the scene on the screen reaching a climax before the story moves on to then next encounter.

“Are you feeling a bit more comfortable about things now,” Paul asks.

“Yes, thank you for understanding. I do feel less stressed about the situation.”

“That’s good.”

“I’m still painfully hard though!”

“Yes, so am I. Would we be going too far for you if I got, well, a bit more comfortable and enjoyed the rest of the show?”

Oh fuck. I don’t know how to react or what to think anymore. I’m so aroused and so horny that I can’t really think straight. On top of all that, I was thinking exactly the same thing. “I’m so hard now, I think I have to!” I manage to whisper eventually.

Paul changes his position slightly and slowly unbuttons the fly of his jeans. He slides them down to his thighs and pulls down the waistband of his boxers just enough to release his erection. He appears to be a little over six inches long, his cock curving slightly up towards his belly and his foreskin hugging his glans tightly. He wraps his right hand around his shaft and begins to pump slowly, moving his foreskin to reveal his quite pointed and pale tip.

I can’t really take my eyes off him, but manage to slide my joggers and boxers down to release my own cock. I’m close to seven inches, quite thick and straight. My foreskin is already slightly retracted, revealing the deep red/purple of my tip, glistening in the copious amounts of pre-come that I’ve been producing since the start of the video. My foreskin moves freely back over my glans as I start to stroke, also with my right hand.

“You’re a little longer than me, and don’t really have any curve at all,” Paul murmurs as he looks in my direction. “Quite a bit thicker though. And you’re so wet. Do you always leak stuff like that?”

“Pre-come, yes, I’ve always made quite a bit. It lubricates things nicely, but it does make a hell of a mess sometimes.”

“I don’t produce any really, maybe a tiny drop if I’m really turned on for a long time. Your glans is more defined than mine too, more of a ridge.”

“Yes, so I can see.” I pull my foreskin right back until it catches behind the ridge of my glans and stays in place while I stroke my shaft with just finger than thumb.

“Was that what you meant the other day, when you said you couldn’t stroke it properly like that? Is your tip so sensitive then?”

“Yes, I can hardly touch the glans and the ridge is so sensitive it hurts. There’s no way I’d be able to run my fist over it when it’s exposed like this.” I encourage my foreskin to release and continue with my preferred grip. “I much prefer to let things slide, it’s more comfortable and takes longer.”

“I can’t make my foreskin stay back,” Paul says, trying his best to demonstrate. “It just slips straight forward again whenever I let go.”

I’m watching Paul slowly, well now not so slowly, wank away and it’s driving me crazy. “I’m getting very close, Paul. I think I’m going to come?”

“Yes, I’m nearly there too.” Paul moans.

I grunt involuntarily and, as I continue to stroke, my cock twitches and sprays several lines of spunk across my t-shirt and hand.

Seeing me come, Paul moans again and several short spurts of his semen spatter onto his pubic hair and into his exposed navel. He stops stroking himself and his cock continues to pulse for maybe half-a-dozen further small spurts. His come seems a little thicker than mine, creamy white but much the same in quantity.

“There’s a towel down by the side of the sofa,” I tell him when I can speak again. We clean ourselves off quickly and, both a little embarrassed, quickly cover ourselves up.

Paul is the first to break the silence. “I’ve never even seen another erection before. We’re different, but not so different really. I guess it makes sense that we’re both mostly the same. If six inches is average, then that covers me, but you’re a bit bigger than that.”

“I haven’t really seen anyone either. Well, more or less. A friend did get hard once, when we were all getting changed at the swimming pool, when I was doing A-levels, but I looked away to save him from getting embarrassed and also to stop me getting hard too. I remember he shrugged and smiled, as if to say it could be any one of us. He didn’t look as big as I knew I was, but much the same shape. I grow a lot when I get hard, I’m generally pretty small when I’m soft. You had a big orgasm. Was that normal for you?”

“It was massive. I don’t think I’ve ever come so hard or shot so much. What about you. Did you enjoy it?”

“Hell, yes. That was probably among the best I’ve ever had. There was so much come, I thought the orgasm was never going to end. Thank you for sharing the experience with me.”

“You’re welcome. And, don’t stress about it. I wasn’t doing anything I wasn’t comfortable with. I really enjoyed it and it was nice, if a bit odd, to see someone else do it too. I mean, I’ve seen a few orgasms when watching porn of course. It’s quite a bit different in real life though. Actually, I never really thought about the smell, but semen does have a smell, doesn’t it.”

“Yes, and I can’t tell you what it smells like, it kind of has a smell all of its own. Not a bad smell really, just unusual and a bit obvious.”

“Yes, if anyone comes in here, they’ll know what we’ve been doing. Not that I care really.”

“Paul, does that mean you’d do it again? I mean, would you still be comfortable if this was ever repeated.”

“I think so, I’m not quite sure at the moment. I don’t feel uncomfortable about it. How about you?”

“Yeah, maybe. I guess I’m not sure either.”