Adventures on the Moon - Discovery Missions

I really do think that I grew up as a kid in a time that being a kid was much more fun than it is today. We used to take our bikes for miles and miles and miles. My parents woulda been shocked if they knew where we ended up sometimes. An ever-ready scout, my map and my compass handily helped us out more than once when we got our idiot selves lost!

And oh yeah...the classic summer apparel was a t-shirt and cut-off blue jeans. Those cut-offs were usually from a pair of jeans that you had outgrown so just about all of us innocently revealed the developing bits inside our shorts. Even though we were just 13 years old, our emerging male development was already bulging in front with our round little butts pushing out the backside. I bet we all looked pretty sexy. And, we'd cut the legs super-short, too.)  Any time one of us relaxed on a rock or knelt down, the accidental appearance of tighty-whities was inevitable.However nobody ever really said much about it because it was such a common occurrence.

I was a young teenager in the early 1970’s, and in many ways I think it was a much better time to be a kid than it is today. With only three television stations and no Internet, social media, or video games, there wasn’t all that much to do inside the house. Consequently, during the summer we spent almost all of our time outside having fun with our friends. It was also a much more trusting time. We didn’t worry that every stranger might be a pervert waiting for an opportunity to molest us, and our parents didn’t worry that we might be kidnapped or shot if we try to leave the yard.

Particularly for us boys, our bicycles were our one true freedom. There were many days where with one friend or a group of friends we would leave the neighborhood on our bikes at 9 AM and not return home until supper time. We had our bikes equipped with wire metal baskets that hung down on both sides of the rear wheel. We would load these baskets with needed supplies for our explorations, and I always took along a detailed map and my Boy Scout compass which both came in handy more times than I would like to admit. On top of the baskets we could strap a cooler with sandwiches and cans of pop chilled in ice.

With that background, I thought I would share with your readers one of the very special and exciting areas my best friend and I used to go to on our summertime day-long biking explorations.

We discovered a path or a trail that took us down through a lot of overgrowth to the edge of the river that flowed through our town. This path was a few miles well outside of town. There were absolutely no houses around, and this path was much too narrow for a car to travel. Toward the end of this trail we discovered what looked to us like a giant “meteor crater”. It was round, probably 75 to 100 yards in diameter, and the rim of the crater was a ridge rising maybe 20 feet above the path (and then dropping 15 feet into the center of the crater). This was probably some form of water overflowed basin, but in our young minds we were absolutely certain we had discovered a prehistoric meteor crater. We studied our encyclopedias and Time magazine about Space and imagined how some galactic phenomenon from another galaxy had surely made this impression, and it was us who had claim of discovery. We told no one until we had the entire depression mapped and each characteristic rock formation was named. There was Pine knob, Glass cove, and The Fiery Forest, which was named after a lone tree in the clearing that had probably burned due to lightning strike. The fiery forest was well seeded by our young sperm, as it held many tempting shady spots for us to cool down from our long journey, and have a nice slow wank.

I need to mention that this friend and I were also very active wanking buddies. Usually under the covers during sleep-overs we jerked our gherkins to a drizzle of pleasure. Often comparing how much oozed out,  or who had more hairs down there. So back to the crater, once we realized this was absolutely in the middle of nowhere, with no other people or cars ever to be seen we both concluded this was a terrific private outdoor spot for us to pull down our shorts and jerk off together. It took us about 30 minutes to bike to this location, but it soon became a favorite destination for us, and our private activities soon became more and more daring. Not to mention the devilment  enhanced our sexual enjoyment as that summer went on. We both agreed that we loved the feeling of the warm sun and summer breeze against our genitals and our small patches of pubic hair lifted a new sensation as the air freely caressed our endorphins to tempt new discoveries. We came to realize it was quite safe for us to strip completely naked (except for our socks and sneakers) then perhaps spend as much as an hour exploring this crater completely in the nude. (Looking back, it is a good thing neither of us got sunburn on our dicks! That would have been really hard to explain.) We began bringing a big beach towel with us so we could start doing some extremely enjoyable 69 activity outside, completely naked, in the warm summer sun.

I miss those exciting boyhood journeys, and I don’t think boys of today are doing much of anything as exciting as we were, back so long ago. It was as if we were space pioneers on a journey that no one had ever dared to explore, especially nude like us. Everyone knew Astronauts wore special suits, and here we went boldly going as "No boy" had gone before.... in just the suit we were born in.

 As I get time, I'll send in some more stories of the Moon Crater if the readers like it.

Thanks if it gets posted.
Ziggy