Middle School Mountain Climbers

 We were stationed for a while at a base surrounded by the jagged peaks of the Rocky mountains. I immediately noticed from our quarters that there was a black, triangle-shaped hole on the slope of one mountain. A cave! My adolescent sense of adventure kicked in and everything in my young being wanted to climb the mountain and explore the cave. It didn't take long to find out that some of the other boys, Air Force dependents like me, had the same desire.

 Finally three of us aspiring young mountain-climbers talked our families into the idea. One of the dads had a four-wheel-drive pickup. He drove us into a canyon along a rutted trace that could hardly be called a road. We set up base camp at a picnic shelter where the gravel ruts ended. The ascent looked simple enough. The cave was about a half mile ahead of us but substantially higher than our elevation. Our angle of approach would have us climbing upwards at about a 30-degree to 45-degree angle. We were young, stoked and properly dressed.We were going to make history, we told each other.

 We expected to conquer the climb in an easy half hour or so, and strode off leaving our adult guardian below. Armed with walking sticks, energy bars and water bottles, we were an excited crew. 

  Three hours later we stopped to rest. We had been picking our way through loose rocks of every size, dodging prickly-pear cactus, jumping in and out of ravines and avoiding thorny brush. Occasionally one of us would lose his balance in a rock-slide and the others would help him back onto his feet. We were wet with perspiration plus becoming short-tempered with each other. And there was more to come.

 At this point I think each of us individually would have given up and returned to the truck. But the pride of peer pressure kept us going.

 After another hour that was booby-trapped with loose earth and steeper angles, we began to close in on the A-shaped hole. We found, to our disappointment that the approach and the big hole itself were littered with candy wrappers, beer cans and graffiti. The "cave" was only six or eight feet deep, more like a crevice than a cavern. So once we climbed into it there was really nothing to explore.

  "What are we going to do to mark this conquest?" one guy asked kind of sarcastically as we stood in the trash. Nobody said anything for a minute, and then another guy unzipped his pants, announcing "Well, I know what I'm gotta do."

 All three of us pissed at the same time, three uninhibited streams soaring out of that black hole. The wind caught our pee and blew it away while we still pissed. Cute, but not much of a celebration.

 Since there was nobody around to see us, we didn't immediately cram our peters back into our pants. None of us had ever been horny together, but now we let our bare dicks enjoy the wind. "Feels good to let it all hang out," somebody said. Instead of zipping up we wiggled our junk at each other and tried to look at the exposed dicks without getting caught. Then one of the guys wrapped his fingers around his rising dick and said, "I know! What if we...?" He didn't have to finish the sentence. His pecker rose while he self-consciously wiggled it.

  I think that I said "Hmmm," but I'm not sure, because I had sprung a stiffie of my own and wondering whether the other guys liked the idea as well as I did.

 The guy who had made the daring suggestion now looked straight at my crotch. "You've got a hard-on," he informed me. Then, continuing, "And Morgan's got a hard-on too, and here's mine." Now we were openly staring.

 Apparently we were all on the same frequency. Stepping back from the entrance, we stood in a line facing out toward the distant truck. We made appropriate jokes about each other's equipment while our stiffies thickened into genuine boners. And then we got busy.

 We all knew the routine: fast strokes, slow strokes mutual strokes. One of the guys dropped his pants and briefs. He imitated the sound of a steam engine while his hand pistoned up and down. In a minute  me and the other guy unbuckled our pants too. We took turns helping each other pump, feeling of one another's family jewels and snickering as we freely displayed our progress.

 We squeezed, wiggled and jacked one another. Suddenly my system approached orgasm before anybody else's. "Cum-MING!" I warned them and they sped up their strokes while watching me ejaculate several explosive bursts of cum that jetted through the air and hit the cave's littered floor about six feet ahead of us. It was one of my best climaxes.

 Then the others caught the brass ring also and we ended with three distinct trails splattered on the rocky floor.

 That was the celebration of our climb and it seemed like a perfectly natural thing

 Going downhill was almost as difficult as our ascent, but this time we had gravity working for us instead of against us. We got back to the picnic area and tore into our rations. Altogether it was a full day's adventure. As the truck bumped its way down to civilization, my friend's dad had an interesting comment: "Bet you guys know each other a lot better now."

 "Oh, my gosh" I thought. "How much did he see while we were leaving our marks way up there?" Probably nothing, I decided, since the hole was so distant and so black.

 But I still wonder if he might have caught a glimpse..

Thunder Cloud