It was a soft break in the silence, but it boomed through the room like cannon. Elder Ormonde had been secretly touching himself in his bed, certain he had woken up well before his split companion, Elder Ingles.
Elder Ormonde thought Elder Ingles was incredibly sexy. He loved his long, lean body and his masculine, hairy chest. Not many missionaries had such features, and it was a big turn on for Elder Ormonde to see those dark hairs poking up from the top of his garments at night.
Perhaps that’s what made him incredibly horny: seeing hints of his sexy new companion’s body. Perhaps it was having just been fondled and milked by his priesthood leader, President Lee. The thought of the handsome man handling his cock still stirred him up from his deepest fantasies.
Or perhaps it was the fact that he was an 18 year old boy desperate to cum all the time! Either way, he was horny, busted, and embarrassed.
“It’s okay!” Ingles continued, “You don’t have to stop… I’m doing it, too.”
That confession shocked Elder Ormonde, certain that Ingles was a pillar of Mormon virtue and purity. He had the sweet face of someone unchallenged by temptation or desire. To know that he masturbated–and that he was masturbating right then and there–not only surprised him, it’s excited him.
“Want to see?” Ingles asked, a smile curling his mouth as he finished. Elder Ormonde couldn’t resist! He knew he shouldn’t and that he could get in trouble, but the thought that his handsome companion was right there, offering it up to him… it was fantasy he thought he’d never have come true.
Elder Ormonde turned over in his bed, facing his body toward Ingles for the first time. As his eyes met Ingles’ each boy found their gaze immediately looked down at each other’s hard, aroused genitals, fully in progress of being stroked.
Elder Ingles couldn’t believe it. His companion was hung! He’d been used to having the biggest dick his whole life, but now the idea of a challenger excited him more than he expected! He’d stolen glances at Ormonde’s crotch before, always curious what he’d find. There, in the bed beside him, was at least nine inches of thick, throbbing dickmeat.
“Wow!” Ingles exclaimed. “You have a really big dick.”
Ormonde blushed, not quite sure of what to say in response. As much as he appreciated the compliment, it was also one he’d never received before. He kept his eyes locked on Ingles’ cock, impressed with its beautiful length. Even the way it slid in and out of the boy’s hand made it seem like a masterpiece, something to truly be studied and worshipped.
“Want to the compare them? Ingles asked.
Ormonde nodded and said, “sure,” barely able to speak in response.
The two missionaries got out of their beds, standing up tall beside one another, feeling a mixture of awkwardness and arousal. Their lean, lanky bodies stood stiff as they held their massive cocks in their hands. They didn’t know quite what to do, but Elder Ingles tilted his body just right so their cocks stood beside one another like two ships docked side by side.
Their hands stroked up and down their respective shafts, feeling the occasional graze of the other on them. It surged blood into their shafts even more, knowing that they were being touched by the other.
Their cocks seemed to poke out even further, pressing into one another’s bodies. They looked down in amazement. At least eighteen inches between, they couldn’t believe their shared luck. Not just with their own personal endowments, but to be given the chance to see it in someone else.
“It’s okay… you can touch it,” Ingles offered, seeing Ormonde’s eye grow wider and more lustful. The young boy hesitated only for a second, then moved his hand over from his member to Ingles’. And just like that, like trains switch tracks, the boys had their hands on the other’s, feeling the pulsing of their companion’s cock.
The room was silent. Even their breaths seemed so measured and calculated that a pin drop could have been heard. They held each other in careful contemplation, worried as if the wrong look or the wrong word would cause this delicate moment to crash on itself.
For Ingles, however, he had seen and experienced his fair share of sexual adventure. So much so that he knew the potential that laid waiting for them on the other side of their nervousness. Feeling a burst of bravery from the pit of his stomach (no doubt inspired by his hard cock being stroked by his companion), the hairy chested missionary leaned in and brought his mouth to Elder Ormonde’s, pressing their lips together to kiss.
Elder Ormonde felt his breath shake in his body. A tingle coursed through his body as he felt his mouth press away from their embrace. He’d done it. He’d kissed a boy. Somehow the moment seemed much more magical and intimate than having his big cock being held.
He could always write that off as boys being boys, fooling around, innocent playing and exploration. But a kiss… there was an intention behind it. A longing and a desire that colored everything else about what they were doing. It wasn’t just a comparison of dicks now: it was more.
“Is that okay?” Ingles asked, aware of Ormonde’s enigmatic reaction, trying hard to parse out what he was thinking in every microexpression. Only a could seconds passed, but in that time, Ingles felt like he’d waited a lifetime. His relief came when Ormonde brought his tongue to his bottom lip slightly, as if to taste their embrace again, smiled, and said, “Yes.”