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A week later I was still re-living the balloon bustathon in the old barn. It had been good for multiple orgasms in the past week and would be for many more years to come. Although Dave was sexually aroused by our play I wasn't sure if it was the balloons or just the body contact. I was certain Dave had checked out my 'boner' and I was concerned that he might suspect I had a thing for balloons. Trying to be alone together with Dave would be difficult because he always tagged along with his younger brother.

Dave and I were occasionally together alone, but since I didn't enjoy an age dominant relationship with him and he hadn't shown signs of any arousal, I didn't think it wise to suggest any direct sexual play. Although the boys always jumped at a chance to bust balloons when I provided them I wasn't sure they got any sort of sexual stimulation from their destruction. On one occasion carnival balloons inflated for over five months in my room had lost about 1/3 of their air and Dave had asked if he could re inflate them. I knew they would pop and he made sure that they did. Even without them showing signs of sexual stimulation our pop offs together really turned me on. I was very concerned, however, that my seeming endless supply of balloons and all to frequent suggestions that we bust off a few were giving my buddies the right idea about my fetish.

We were only about four weeks from the end of school and had already pretty well exhausted our repertoire of summertime activities when Dave mentioned we hadn't been on an overnight camp out since the previous fall. Balloons aside, I immediately jumped at the idea. On previous trips, although we had never engaged in any sex play, I felt we might have been close.  Since on this trip I would make a point of insisting that they wear the scout uniforms I had given them my buddies would be sporting nice loose fitting shorts and bare knees. This would greatly add to my enjoyment during our trek. Additionally many more possibilities for hands on fun would be opened up, literally.

We gathered up all our gear except for food the night before. I couldn't resist bringing a large supply of balloons including a dozen or so fourteen inchers that I reserved for special fun. This overnight foray into the deep woods might very well turn out to be a special occasion. I also took the liberty of bringing along a couple of unused rubbers that I had been fortunate to find at a secluded lovers parking spot. Aside from all but eliminating the clean up mess when I used them, the natural lubrication when I started to cum produced a much better approximation of the normal cavity than just using a bare hand. I was planning on giving the boys a demo if things got to the point that I was hoping they would. The camping spot we would use Dad and I had discovered on one of our many Sunday drive / hikes. It was about half way down the side of the mountain at the head of a large ravine and featured the primary camping essential; pure fresh spring water.

I honestly had no idea how sexually active either of them were; whether they came off solo or mutual, or even engaged in any masturbation at all. This was a subject that was never discussed by the boys or any of my other friends at school. In those days a boy hinting or admitting he masturbated would label him a queer by his friends.

We set off early Saturday morning and with rest stops it took us about six hours to hike to our camp site. If we hadn't been carrying sufficient supplies for Handball's army we could have probably made it in four. I had a 6 by 8 foot WW2 canvas wall tent that would provide our shelter. Watching the boys as they hiked along with the baggy legs of their shorts slapping against their now tanned thighs tended to keep me on the gooey side most of the day.

None of us had sleeping bags, just some heavy army blankets. On our other outings we just slept in any change of clothes we brought along or what we had been wearing. Previously neither of the boys had been willing to strip to their under shorts for sleep, but I always pulled off my 'longies' and slept in my school gym shorts. This time the absence of long pants on my buddies would provide relatively unobstructed access to their erotic areas even with them fully clothed.

After resting for the better part of an hour, we got the tent set up and a large supply of fire wood gathered. The main course for our evening meal was Dinty Moore beef stew. It was simply a heat and eat deal.

After we finished eating there was still an hour or two of usable sunlight left and the boys wanted to go exploring. I was really hoping they would stick around while I could try to think of a way to introduce some balloon play around the campfire. I find balloons are so much more fun when there is a fire around. The thought of the tightly stretched thin rubber getting kissed by flickering orange flames sent shivers up my back. Balloons tend to have a very short life when you play with them around fires.

It was nearly dark when we got back to the camp site. I was really beat from all the walking with the heavy load I had been toting for half a day and I figured the boys were as well. I suspected they would simply want to sponge off, change to dry clothes, and hit the sack. I knew for myself, sexual lust notwithstanding, I would be zonked in five minutes if I were to lie down. To my surprise, however, Dave suggested we build up the fire.

We were sitting across from each other on three large flat rocks we had found and muscled into position near the fire pit. Although we had a Coleman lantern sitting over by the tent, most of the light came from the fire that was between us. I couldn't take my eyes off the brothers legs sticking out towards me out of the legs of their shorts which hung in a loose inviting loops beneath their thighs. I noticed Dave was staring intently at my crotch area as well. I was sure he sensed my tool was fully erect and ready for play. Then I noticed that the fingers of his right hand which was laying across his leg began to massage the fly area of his shorts. Could my buddy be showing signs of arousal? It was more than I could hope for.

Dave noticed my stare and immediately reached back with his right hand and grabbed a long slender branch and stuck the end of it into the fire. After a few seconds the tip was glowing red with a small tongue of fire dancing on it.. He applied it to a number of leaves that happened to be laying outside the reach of the campfire; burning holes in them. He was obviously in the market for items to burn with his new found weapon and I had just what he would enjoy burning in the bottom of my back pack. "Hang on Dave," I said. "I brought along things we can have fun with."

I was back in a flash with my supply of balloons. I had put the eleven and fourteen inch balloons in separate bags. They hadn't seen the fourteen's so I grabbed one and started blowing. Dave and Mike's eyes both lit up. I could see their rapt attention and anticipation through the ever lightening red skin of the balloon. Dave started waving the still glowing tip menacingly toward the rubber sphere in front of my face. He was anxious to apply his burning weapon to the destruction of my toy. I stopped blowing and said "Dave, wait a sec. Let me shown you how big this sucker will get".

He grinned as I added an additional 6 or 7 breaths full. The balloon was a good sixteen inch or more in diameter with a nice elongated neck. I held it out in front of me toward the fire saying "Ain't it pretty. This one's too good to bust".

Ho ho ho. My comment was all Dave needed.

"Only one thing balloons are good for is busting" Dave laughed as he suddenly thrust his burning brand over the fire and into the end of my balloon.

BANG! I think we all jumped even though we knew the inevitable burst was coming. The sound reverberated through the woods and down into the valley like a thunder peel. Anyone within three miles surly heard that balloon's death knell.

Before the echoes had fully died away the boys were demanding I share some of the big balloons with them. I handed them each about a half a dozen cautioning them that I had very few and they shouldn't just waste them. I knew Dave's first balloon would be inflated until it burst because that was his 'fav' way of checking out any new batch of balloons I might give him. Mike fresh from conquering his balloon busting fears down at the old barn also had to demonstrate that his lungs were superior to any hunk of toy rubber.

Both boys stood up with their legs firmly planted so as to unleash their maximum lung power. My eyes were riveted on them, torn between their youthful muscled legs and knees framed between their knee socks and the hem of their shorts, and the ever expanding soon to be destroyed rubber toys that were rapidly obscuring their faces. The balloons put up a good fight but were no match for the boys youthful lungs. Each of the balloons after stretching to the maximum burst with thunderous BANGs even louder than the one Dave had burned a minute or so earlier.

With both their balloons popped Dave said, "OK, lets see you bust one."

I was surprised they didn't just want to continue and finished off the others I had given them. I just assumed they would both continue blowing and popping until the balloons I gave them were gone. Instead they stood and watched as I got to my feet, put my left hand nonchalantly on my hip, and proceeded to blow to pop a nice green one. Could I have the question that had been burning in my mind for a couple of years answered easily? As the explosive BOOM died away I asked tentatively, "Do you like to see me blow up and bust balloons?'

"Sure" Mike volunteered. "You look like a little kid wearing those short pants when you play with balloons. I love to watch you pop 'em and see the rubber flying."

Oh baby, was I ever getting 'hot'.

"Yeah" Dave added. "We know playing with balloons gives you a hard on. We like to see how they get you all excited when we are playing with them and busting them."

OH SHIT! They not only suspected, they knew. Either I was in deep do do or this was going to be an even more super summer than I could have ever possibly imagined.

I was hoping the red glow of the campfire was hiding my red glow of embarrassment I could feel on my face. The only response to their accusation I could think of was, "I'm sorry. The feel, smell, and texture of balloons, and the way they break so easily and thoroughly just turns me on. I just can't help it."

I then had to chance the question. "What turns you guys on? Don't tell me you don't play with yourselves at times. All guys do".

I sure hoped in this case with the brothers it was true. After a seemingly endless pause during which I am sure they were evaluating whether to admit to such sinful decadence, Dave ventured, "Well those bare ass babes in the girlie magazines give me a hard on just thinking about jumping into the picture with them."

It was the sort of answer I expected if they were going to admit to anything at all. Dave sensing my disappointment finally added, "Well, the other day when we were playing in the old barn with the balloons getting popped and rubbed on my legs and crotch I got a hard on."

Mike gave Dave a disgusted look. This just encouraged Mike to embarrasses his brother further, "Yah, and Dave here loves to look at your pretty legs. He'd love to get his hand up inside those loose fitting shorts of yours and feel up your dick."

"Don't you call me a queer, balloon baby," Dave screamed as he lunged for his brother. Suddenly an evening that had held so much promise had turned very ugly.

Fortunately I was able to separate them. All the daily pain from hefting iron was paying off; I was physically able to separate them for the minute or so that it took Dave to calm down. I said, "Look, we have been the best of buddies for nearly three years now and we are not children. Let's discuss this like grown ups and get everything out in the open."

My main concern at this point was the sudden further exposure of my balloon fetish interests to my buddies and worse the community at large. If the boys started blabbing to other kids It would make my life a living hell and would have grave implications for my family, possibly even costing my dad his job.

I started the ball rolling by explaining how I got hooked into the fetish and that it really was no different than having a girlie magazine porno picture fetish. Both the boys then admitted their sexual self indulgence of once or twice a week which was far less than mine at an average of twice a day. I was particularly interested in an honest revelation of what turned them on. Our play in the old barn had confirmed their suspicions of my unnatural love for rubber toys and Dave at least had admitted that hands on balloon busting play got him excited.

Then I addressed Dave's seeming interest in my shorts wearing. I volunteered the fact that homosexual leanings were not all that uncommon for boys of our age and that I enjoyed seeing the boys in their loose fitting shorts showing off their well muscled good looking legs. At this point Dave admitted that watching me or his brother wearing the scout shorts was a turn on for him too. I pressed him about his response to balloon play. He indicated that he loved to blow balloons up and bust them but they didn't do anything for him sexually. This is what I had suspected for some time; he was a non passionate buster. Mike didn't seem to be as turned on to the homo implications of the shorts we were wearing but finally admitted that having balloons rubbed on his bare legs and arms had given him an erection.

I suggested, "I think we need to make a pact, swearing to never reveal to anyone else anything we know about each other from our conversation this night. Do you agree?"

Dave said "Yah I think we had better be damn sure no one else knows about our getting horny from busting some rubber balloons.

Then after thinking for a moment Dave added, "What we need a ritual act to cement our bond as blood brothers."

I had been through such a ritual involving other friends in my younger days. Kids had more fun then because no one had ever heard about AIDS. The act of drawing blood from yourself and your blood brother then squeezing the two wounds together was a boyhood act of life long fidelity and trust.

The usual bloodletting and commingling was not what Dave had in mind, however. His plan would be trial by fire. As each of us swore to keep our pact secret we pulled the hem of the left leg of our shorts up to our waist while the one standing to the left pressed the burning end of a faggot from the campfire against the thigh of the proclament just above the normal hem line. I was the first recipient. As Dave pressed the burning tip into my flesh the pain was even worse than when dad's cigarette burned my knees up at the dump.

I followed by searing Mike's leg and he gleefully applied his brand to Dave. We each in turn got through our brotherhood ordeal with only muffled screams. Then the three of us spent the next half hour applying the cool spring water to the singed flesh of our legs. It felt good for the moment but it didn't remove the burning feeling. The pain and emotion I had just experienced had totally killed my raging sexual desires from an hour earlier. I was ready to douse the campfire and call it a night when Dave ran up with one of the balloons I had given him waving from his fingers, "How many more of these beauties do you have?. Come on, let's put some more wood on the fire and pop off some more of them. Maybe you can get Mike and me really interested in balloons".

Wow I thought 'Whoa baby. Rummmmmm. Rummmmmm'.

I divided up the balloons I had in the bags and handed them out to each of them. They each wound up with a few more of the fourteen inch and a couple dozen of the twelve's. I kept back some of each size for the next day because my experience indicated the boys would pop off all the balloons I had just given them even if it took us all night.

We started off by each blowing up a fourteen incher. The boys liked the bigger ones and It was obvious they were going to die first. We were sitting on the rocks we had pulled up on opposite sides of the campfire and after we had them tied off we started batting the balloons from one to another over the dancing flames. It didn't take long before two of them collided in mid air and one was propelled to it's fiery doom while the other bounded off into the night. We stopped play for a moment for Mike to retrieve the escaping balloon. A few passes later the next balloon was unfortunate enough to be traversing the fire when some sparks flew up and killed it in mid air. I might note that this game was not as simple as it sounds. The rising column of hot air from the fire quickly carried the balloons upward if they were not batted somewhat downward and with sufficient velocity. The last one to pop was just hit too close to the flames. It pained me to see those big beautiful fourteen inchers succumbing so easily to the flames so I suggested we switch to the smaller balloons for this play. Probably another two dozen were busted by the flames in our bat the balloon game before we tired of it. During this time we had one or two that hadn't been hit very well get partially caught in the rising column of hot air from the fire. This caused them to  drift well over the head of the recipient even when he tried to jump up to grab them and we had to scramble off to fetch them. From this phenomenon we discovered hot air ballooning. By gently batting balloons into the hot air column  just above the fire they would get trapped in the rising column of hot air and sail up thirty feet or more before drifting back to earth downwind.

The boys rationalized; bigger fire, more heat, more height. Before I knew it they had piled on all the firewood we had collected and we quickly graduated from campfire to bonfire. Their theory to improve flying height was correct but in their rush to test it most of the balloons died by getting batted too near the flames. Others as they tried to escape upward were destructively attacked by all the sparks that were being generated by the rapidly burning wood. Fortunately for Smoky the Bear we had had a fairly rainy summer and the leaves and debris on the ground didn't catch fire.

Our campfire balloon games were a great way to dispose of my balloons, and for the boys that was the name of the game, but the pop pop pops of the balloons bursting wasn't giving me any great amount stimulation. I was looking for a re-play of our balloon free for all in the old barn the previous week. Since our sexual secrets were now out in the open I wanted this session to be more hands on grab ass than the first time.

I was not interested in oral or anal sex involving the brothers. I had been disgusted and turned off by such sexual play when I had been put upon by a friend a few years earlier. The experience was both pleasurable but also frightening and painful, and at that time no matter how hard he tried (and I wanted to) I couldn't achieve an orgasm. Of course if we had had some balloons available for me to get warmed up on I might not have found myself sexually embarrassed. Anyway I went away from that experience disgusted and mortified that my lack of sexual performance was known by a close friend.

I finally called a halt to our hot air balloon flying by calling their attention to the fact that several of the balloons hadn't returned to earth and were probably hung up in the trees. In addition several had popped upon landing in the brush some distance from the fire. I told them we had to do a down town job of cleaning up because others on occasion, often real boy scouts, camped here. Finding and disposing of all the rubber from our balloon fun would be impossible, but I didn't want to leave any large obvious pieces laying or hanging around that wouldn't decay quickly.

Then I had a flash of inspiration. It was something I had only dreamed about but had hoped someday that I could try, so I suggested, "Why don't we blow up all the balloons we have left and put them in the tent. We can flop and roll on them and play grab ass like we did the other week."

The tent had a floor and except for pieces that might fly out the tent flaps at the one end, the rubber residue would be totally contained. It would also address another worry I had; reducing to some extent the intensity of the balloon bursting sound that I was sure audible to farmers that lived about 3 miles down the valley.

The boys agreed enthusiastically. Mike couldn't resist saying he wanted to see how fast I got a hard on. I thought, 'silly boy, it don't get any bigger than it is right now'.

We set to work and in about thirty minutes we had blow up all the balloons I had handed out. They formed nearly two layers on the six by eight foot tent floor. I almost contributed the couple of dozen 14 inch balloons I still had until I saw the floor was well covered. Just as well because I was hoping the boys might be in the mood for more balloon play in the morning.

The boys were just about ready to jump into the tent on our new rubber mattress when I suggested that we might have more fun if we stripped off our scout shirts and shorts first. Even in the dim glow of the Coleman our stimulation status would be revealed. I always wore loose thin gym shorts as underpants, either the ones dad had bought when we picked up the weight set and boxing gloves, or as in this case a pair I had salvaged from high school. I was pleased to see the boys were sporting the gym shorts I had given them rather than just normal boxer underpants.

Then we lined up at the front of the tent and did a header toward the rear wall of the tent. We had made a point of not over inflating the balloons to improve their durability. As a result our initial leap on to our rubber bed resulted in a major bounce and just a couple of 'pops'. Functionally the balloons acted like large springy ball bearings. Now the tent had been set up with the back against a tree which provided a secure support for the branch that ran under the peak of the tent. I was in the center as the three of us sprang forward. While the boys forward motion was stopped by the tightly stretched rear wall of the tent, mine was a bit more abrupt as the tent wall bulged out and I did a header into the tree trunk. I was damn lucky I didn't break my neck.

My headache notwithstanding I joined the boys as we all rolled around on the rubber toys busting them under our knees, elbows, and asses, as well as pressing them into each others faces and grinding them into each other's private areas. The shrieking and popping of the balloons was non stop. Needless to say I was super excited. There was relatively little light, only the glow of the lantern through the open front of the tent, but we made up for it with a lot of hands on exploration as we busted the balloons on each other's bodies. I assessed that we were all fully aroused within 30 seconds of the start of our balloon bust mailey. We were soon down to just a few balloons left when I suggested we should save them for an orgiastic finale.

Our balloon play in the tent had rapidly annihilated all but about a dozen balloons. I turned my attention to Dave who was lying on my right. As I pushed him over on his back, I managed to find a fairly soft balloon that had obviously undergone a good deal of stretching from being crushed under our bodies. I began to stroke him, rubbing the balloon from below his knees, over his crotch, then upward to his chin. The rubber squealed as the balloon traversed the exposed skin areas from his knee socks to the hem of his gym shorts and from the waist band upward. I was doing this for maybe a minute with Dave making quiet pleasurable groans when I felt Mike's tool prodding my ass through my thin shorts. I told him I wasn't interested in getting fucked and that he should rub himself with a balloon and I would take care of him in a minute.

Dave meanwhile had grabbed the waist band of his shorts and had pulled them down fully exposing his manhood. I didn't exactly see this but I could tell from the increased squeaking from the balloon and the bump as the balloon passed over his stem. I was wondering when he would be ready to move on to the direct hands on phase. This quickly became a moot question. Dave's leg was pressed against mine and I felt the muscles tighten and then relax. On my next upward stroke of the balloon, just as it passed over the ridge above the quiet zone of his shorts, instead of squealing as I rubbed it upward on his chest it just slid with no friction at all. Hot dang. I hadn't even physically touched him and he had shot his load all over his chest. Dave grabbed the balloon as it approached his face and I felt the rubber tighten as he squeezed both it and his loins to get out the last of his juice. The balloon went poof and we were both sprayed with his seed. One long groaning ohhhhh wowwwwww and I knew his immediate needs were taken care of at least for now. I was disappointed that jacking Dave off had not stimulated me as much as I thought I would be. The throbbing coming from the top of my head caused by the bump against the tree wasn't helping. I rolled over toward Mikey.

Meantime Mike had grabbed a balloon and was using it to vigorously rub his tool. The sound indicated he had already pulled down the thin cotton gym shorts he had worn that day. I grabbed the balloon from his hands and started stroking him as I had done his brother. This didn't work too well because he immediately grabbed his stem when I took the balloon and was furiously pumping up and down. I twisted the balloon on his bare thighs and crotch area. Now and again the balloon would press against his flying fist adding a tremolo effect to the squeaking rubber. He seemed to be doing just fine and I figured he preferred self service. He came in less than two minutes. I could tell because most of his load landed on my right arm that was between us. I smeared his goo off with the balloon I was holding and was thinking of pressing the wet rubber in his face. Then I thought that would be unkind to interrupt his pleasurable moment. Instead I pressed the wet side of the balloon against his knees and popped it. Mike didn't even seem to notice.

Both the boys were in a state of total relaxation. On top of the hefty workout we had had walking up here and the late hour I was wondering at this point if I was going to get anything out of deal. The roaring hard on I had had during the balloon bust a few minutes before had waned and playing with the boys and bringing them to an orgasmic climax was not near as stimulating as I had envisioned it would be for so many years.

After a few minutes I lay on my back between them and reached over and grabbed each of their joy sticks. I knew in another minute or two and they would surely be sound asleep. I was surprised. Dave's was still half hard but Mike's had already collapsed. I figured Dave was at least still semi awake and I gave his stem a hard jerk. "Hay guys, what about me" I said.

He said "What do you want me to do?"

"Well grab some balloons and help me come off man," I said in an exasperated tone.

Dave rounded up some balloons and started rubbing my legs and thighs. Mike finally stirred and asked his brother if he needed any help doing me. Mike said "Yah, rub his legs and chest with this balloon."

The friction and squeaking of the balloon brought my manhood quickly to life. Then I felt something really good. Dave was massaging my knee with his hand slowly working his way up my leg. His strong fingers were squeezing into my thigh muscles and I envisioned the numerous balloons he had just busted that had not withstood this same treatment. He reached the hem of my gym shorts and paused to pull the leg tightly outward. I thought he was going to rip them as dad had done with my scout shorts several weeks earlier. He didn't, however, and stuck his hand up the leg opening and started to finger my sack. Having someone touch me in my private areas felt sooooo good. I was beginning to climax.

Dave withdrew his hand and lowered my shorts. His tender grip was in sharp contrast to the firm squeezes on my leg. I thought about the condoms I had brought to show them and thought, 'who cares'. A few strokes later I came and Dave caught most of my juice in his hand. I expected him to wipe my goo off on me but he didn't. I not sure how he disposed of it but I think he smeared it on his bare legs.

We still had a few balloons left and I asked the boys if they wanted a second 'go' and they said no. I got up and went out and doused the remains of the bonfire. As I was doing this and listening to the night sounds I had a very eerie premonition that the noise from our balloon busting would have certainly caught someone's attention. I was convinced it might be prudent to clean up the area and clear out at first light rather than fool around with another fire and breakfast even though I would have liked to show them the rubbers to jack off in. There would be other days for demonstrating the added pleasure of using adult balloons. Fortunately I had a travel alarm from a previous camp out in my pack and I set it for 6 AM. The alarm woke us up out of the soundest nights sleep I had had in years.

The boys were pissed at being rousted at such an early hour. I relayed my fears of discovery to the boys and they agreed that someone might hike up to the spring to investigate. We packed up everything quickly and did as good a job as we could with the Coleman and the limited daylight to recover and hide the balloon remains. The boys finished off the few balloons still in the tent by gouging them with their fingernails. We also knew some balloons had escaped our bonfire play and were caught in the trees or had fallen to the ground. Fortunately they weren't too well inflated after being out in the cool night and they didn't make very loud POPs as the boys finished them off with some accurately thrown stones. We did the best we could to round up all the visible rubber remains and then hid them under a large rock a hundred feet or so from the camp site. With the cleanup finished we packed up our gear and  hightailed it up the mountain side to the main trail.

Just as we reached the junction with the main trail we heard the sounds of dogs in the distance. No question someone was coming our way with dogs. We would never outrun them with all the gear we were carrying so Dave suggested that since I was such a good runner I should give them the load I was carrying and act as decoy. I agreed but I didn't think they could manage carrying everything between them.

We quickly transferred my load to the brothers. I was about to take off and run back down to the camp site when Dave said, "Hold on. Let's make sure they follow you and not us."

He was standing in front of me and before I realized what he was doing he hiked up the hem of his shorts, wiped out his dick, and started to pee all over the hems of my shorts, my legs, and the top of my knee socks. The strong smell of his urine quickly filled the air. I was at first revolted but then the warm urine from my blood brother on my flesh began to feel sexy. Pee soaked I ran back towards the campsite at the spring while the boys took off down the trail away from our pursuers.

The ruse worked and the dogs followed me. From what I could hear from the barking I don't think they followed any further after me than our camp at the spring, but driven by fear I just kept running and running until I thought my lungs were going to explode. I rejoined the boys at the foot of the mountain and after hiking an additional five mile detour to avoid roads and civilization we returned home undetected, or so I thought.
Revision Date 2/03.
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