Northern Lights
Copyright© 2026 by Golden Ghost Pen
Chapter 1
Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Life in rural Iowa and Wyatt, Tyler, Cole, and Joe's exploration of friendship, acceptance in conservative, rural America, and fucking around as friends, regardless of sexuality. The intro gets things going before the well-earned spicy payoffs later on! A 50-part fully finished series!
Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Ma Gay School Anal Sex First
My name is Oliver, but my close friends call me Olly. Actually at this point in life, pretty much everyone I know calls me Olly. I’m 18 years old but a little older for my grade so I get to hit the big 1-9 this coming Summer before I head into my freshman year in the Fall. I’m in the home stretch of the last six or so months before life really begins (AKA graduation).
I wouldn’t consider myself anything special if I’m being honest, and I kinda like it that way. I’ve never been one to really want to stick out, happy to go with the flow and spend time with my friends. Making my own mark was something I could figure out later on.
Like most guys my age, I’ve been spending almost all my time playing sports with my friends, hiking, and going to parties ... if we can really call them that at our age. I know I can’t blend in forever but every time I think of pushing myself beyond what I already know, I get this little wistful flutter in my stomach. Sometimes I think it’s excitement, but most of the time, I worry it’s the anxiety of eventually have to figure out how I fit into the world around me.
Thankfully, my physical appearance fits the average person I’m trying to present to the world: dark, wavy hair that never sits like I want it to, plain brown eyes, and a typical body for a guy my age – 5’9”, 145 pounds, and slim enough that clothes usually hang on my body, but with just a little bit of annoying baby fat left in some places. If I had to put a number on it, purely based on comparing myself to the guys I see around, I think I’m probably like a 7? I do what I can to keep myself presentable – a clean-shaven face (as if I could grow facial hair even if I wanted to), regular grooming “down there”, and clothes that at least semi-fit my frame. My mom insists that I’m “classically handsome,” which always sounded like a way of trying to boost my self esteem, but actually made me sound average as all hell.
I guess the reason I struggle to be fully me as I’m still learning what ‘me’ even means. I’ve known I was gay for a few years now but haven’t exactly gotten around to exploring that massive, locked away side of myself.
My friends and I live in eastern Minnesota in a suburban town surrounded by forest and flatland. Our state is all about lakes and the outdoors, and I’ve tried to spend more time embracing that lifestyle the older I’ve gotten. We live and breathe the sun radiating on our pale skin the four months a year we have it and do our best to thrive in the bitter winters that bring ice skating, hockey, and warm nights by a fire.
Our area of the Midwest is, also like me, pretty average - moderate politically, middle class, a ‘good community’ - an All American kinda place that some groups of people pretend no longer exists. People seem pretty chill these days about the ‘gay’ thing in general but I mostly keep it to myself anyway, especially at school. It’s just not worth the awkwardness of being the only out gay kid in your 1000 person high school.
Thankfully, my core of friends, their families, and my parents did know about my buried identify, and were all supportive (mostly ... more on that later). I was fairly confident people at school would have no idea I was gay and I really didn’t want to deal with the shock and awe of it. In case you can’t tell by now, attention isn’t really my thing.
That core group of friends is everything to me. We’re synonymous with each other around school and were loyal to a fault for each other. They feel like the most special friends in the world, even if most of our time is spent on the same old shit everyone our age did: hiking the trails down by the river, endless hours of video games, camping when we could swing it, playing sports ... all the typical stuff, the stuff that kept us from having to think the future.
I was pretty lucky with the response from them when I came out. They’ve mostly accepted me since.
Well, I should say, they all accepted me, but my best friend (or at least ... he was... ) Luke, was definitely not comfortable with it. I’m lucky to have a really loose dynamic with everyone else though. They’re super comfortable around me and some of them even flirt or joke about stuff, maybe just for attention or to get a reaction, but it makes me feel like I can be myself. As far as I know, they’re all straight, and their stories certainly back it up.
While they’ve been navigating the minefield of dating, hookups, and dissecting every interaction they have with girls, I’ve been stuck with my hand. I’ve kissed three guys, all from other schools, and got to third base with just one of them recently. Still a virgin, though, and more sexually frustrated than ever. My romantic and sexual experiences have been limited (to say the least) and I honestly just kinda want to experience more than 1 dick other than my own before college.
Speaking of sex, like the rest of me, I felt like my “goods” were pretty average too, which I was more than happy with. I was cut and stretched out to a solid six inches ... not that I’ve measured or anything. I wasn’t a hairy person naturally, but I did start shaving the any hair below my waist about a year ago, keeping up with it weekly just in case. Of everything I was working with, I did think my butt was my best quality. It was a little bit plump for my frame, soft, and I did have to admit, kinda cute in the mirror.
Recently, my family had gone on a camping trip in the dead of the Minnesota winter. I hated traveling with my extended family, especially because it took me away from my friends, but this time, I met a guy at the campsite who swore he was straight but after a few stolen drinks from our families, seemed into me.
He ended up being kiss #3 and this guy let me give him a blowjob - a pretty big milestone. It wasn’t a big, emotional connection or anything, but it was something. He didn’t really reciprocate anything but I think he would’ve if I’d pushed. It hit me after that, that maybe I needed to think outside the box more. It seemed like guys my age were horny 24/7 so maybe pushing my friends’ boundaries a bit (respectfully of course!) wasn’t a crazy idea?
That experience, combined with the ticking clock of graduation, had sparked something daring in me. At this point in school, I was unlikely to stumble upon other surprise gay guys in my town, but I had a group of pretty good looking friends who constantly seemed horny and who, at the moment, were all single.
It got me thinking suddenly that the risk of putting myself out there, even a little bit, felt like a better gamble than the regret of not trying. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but I had this growing hunch that at least one or two of them might be open to more than just a friendly hug or a slap on the back. Maybe not full-blown sex, maybe not even kissing, but letting me cop a feel? A little massage? Maybe some hand stuff? Something. With graduation looming, I figured “fuck it”, and decided to see where things could go with them. Speaking of my friends...
The Core Group
Grant
Grant is our tall, lanky, cross-country genius friend. He’s reserved and can be hard to read to the point that it often feels like he knew more about each of us than we did about him combined.
Of all of us, Grant seemed the most ready for the next steps in life, the most focused and least fazed by the thought of moving away from home. He was also the smartest of us, by a mile. Not just good grades smart, but genuinely insightful and grounded. What he lacked in letting on about how he felt, he made up for in how interesting he could be in helping our group to understand the world around us. But he wasn’t a jerk about it, he just got excited to share his perspective on the world. He wasn’t the caricature of a nerd; he didn’t have the social awkwardness or the single-minded obsession with one thing - in fact, he probably played less video games than all of us.
Grant was lean, tall, and built a bit like a giraffe. At 6’1”, with short, dark hair that always seemed to fall just right, he had a slim cross country runner’s build through and through – a 6 pack more from how lean he was than from having large muscles, calves of steel, and not an ounce of fat on his body. He switched between contacts and a pair of clear, plastic-rimmed glasses that made him look slightly more serious.
He seemed to go for runs every day, year round, even in the harsh Minnesota winters. He was the quietest member of our crew. We’d be loud and interrupting each other, and Grant would just listen. He liked to process everything internally, choosing when to speak up carefully.
Despite his reserved nature, you always felt accepted by Grant because of this quiet kindness he had about him. When I came out to him and Luke, on a late-night drive, the initial reactions from them couldn’t have been more different. Grant had been driving and had immediately expressed his support, sharing that he was here for me.
Luke on the other hand, despite knowing me for much longer, was visibly uncomfortable in the backseat and took days to even acknowledge what I’d shared. Grant wasn’t one for deep, confessional talks about personal stuff, but I did believe him that if I ever wanted to share what I was feeling, he would listen.
As far as any of us knew, he hadn’t ever even kissed a girl. It wasn’t something we teased him about though, because it was more out of boredom with the pursuit of girls at our age than from anything else. It was just how he was. He was cute. The way his eyes crinkled slightly when he genuinely smiled, the quiet intensity when he was focused on something, the contrast between his intelligent observations and his complete lack of social pretense – it was all so mysterious.
Declan
For our friend group, Declan was our ‘fun’ catalyst, the unpredictable one that ensured no two hangouts were ever quite the same. He was 5’7”, maybe shorter, and weighed maybe 130 pounds soaking wet. He had this mess of curly red hair that somehow stayed in place and framed a face that was usually split by a grin or contorted to mock those around him.
His mom met his dad while on vacation in the UK and they moved back here just before Declan was born, adding another layer to his persona. Hanging out with him was all about anticipating the next ridiculous stunt, the next sarcastic joke, or elaborate lie he was spinning. He seemed incapable of taking anything, including himself, seriously.
He was the most extroverted of us by a mile. While the rest of us were good just relaxing and taking in the vibe around us, Declan needed to be the center of attention at all times.
He wasn’t a troublemaker in the sense of starting fights or rules, at least not intentionally. His chaos was more personal, all about fucking with each of us and poking across our group, teasing relentlessly. He also played the guitar with enough skill to make it a fixture of our hangouts and was always the last one asleep at our sleepovers.
Despite his chaotic energy and immaturity, Declan somehow managed to have a girlfriend through most of high school. One girl, for years, just up until recently when he decided to break things off before college. This meant that while his emotional maturity in relationships might have been untested, he was, by our group’s standards, pretty experienced sexually (and he never shut up about it). Conversations about anything could, and often would, turn to Declan’s graphic accounts of the sex he’d been having.
Declan also had a relaxed relationship with clothing and privacy, especially around us. He was the only friend I’d ever seen basically naked. He used to constantly moon us, often mid-sentence or as a punchline to a terrible joke. His bare ass would flash into view, usually accompanied by a cackle. And it was, as he often noted proudly, his “little butt.” Adding to the visual was a light dusting of bright red hair on his cheeks.