Wrong Side of the Bridge Ch. 01

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He was fist pumping then turned and caught me staring at his crotch. I tucked my knees up tighter to try and hide my erection, but Pete grabbed me by the shoulders and pushed me backward onto the mattress. I don't think he meant to be rough but he was a big guy, and the force was enough to knock the breath out of me. I sprawled out on my back and he clambered on top of me, staring down into my face.

I licked my lips nervously and Pete's eyes narrowed as he focused in on the movement. He lowered his head and pressed his mouth against mine, hard. His lips were slightly parted and I think I whimpered when I felt his warm, scratchy mouth pressing down onto me. He tasted like salt and vinegar potato chips.

I could feel his sweaty bare chest pressing against my skin, his hair crunchy like how I'd imagine a bed of moss to be, whenever he shifted his weight slightly his body rubbed across mine and that chest hair sent tickling sensations all over me. I could even feel his armpit hair, thick warm nests against my shoulders from where his arms were spread out across the bed over me.

Pete kissed me for a few minutes then leaned back on his elbows. "I've been wanting to do that all day," He grinned at me, and my heart leaped. "You're so hot Eli."

He slid onto his side on the mattress, facing me. I rolled over so I was on my side too and timidly raised a hand to his beard, stroking a finger over the rough stubble. It felt wiry, like egg noodles. I could never grow a beard and I'd often wondered what they felt like, to grow one or to have it rub against your skin. I was fascinated with the way the short hairs parted and shifted around my finger, I couldn't stop staring and stroking.

Pete grinned at my obvious arousal and said, "You like my beard, don't you?"

I nodded nervously and glanced down at the thick curly dark hair on his chest, then blushed when I heard him start laughing.

"I can tell, you know," He said huskily as he leaned in close to me and licked along below my ear. "You always look at my beard and stare when I'm taking my shirt off."

I laughed nervously. I had thought I hid it well. But it didn't seem like he was about to beat me up.

I let my hand slide down his neck to his beefy arm as my eyes wandered freely over his body. His belly was rounded and his thick biceps were covered in red textured bumps, like shaving rash or ingrown hairs. Dark curly hair covered his whole chest from collarbone to belly button. I wanted to bury my face in it, to see if it was as soft as it looked.

Pete pulled me back to him for a kiss, and as we kissed his hands started roaming my body, stroking my smooth tanned skin and moving to play with my nipples. His fingers stroked across my left nipple and my whole body jerked at the sensation, it was like a sharp electric shock. I whimpered into his mouth and clutched at his chest, my fingers twining through his chest hair. It felt thick and a bit dry and scratchy, totally different to anything on my own body.

I found one of his nipples and stroked it the way Pete was touching me, and he moaned aloud. He grabbed my hand and, in one sudden movement, shoved it down beneath the waistband of his sweatpants. My hand touched his dick and I gasped in shock while Pete let out a loud moan.

"Do that again," Pete muttered, although I was having trouble hearing him through the ringing in my ears. I couldn't believe I was finally doing this.

My hand had frozen from the shock of touching that hot column of flesh. I swallowed and tried to steady my trembling, to think past my dizziness and focus on touching a penis for the first time in my life.

I pulled his stretchy waistband down and stared at Pete's pulsing cock. It was fat and sort of torpedo shaped, uncircumcised and thick with veins. When I wrapped my hand around it, Pete groaned and collapsed backward. I looked up at him in alarm but saw there was a giant goofy grin on his face and his eyes were half closed.

His dick felt totally different to mine -- I was uncut too but my own foreskin barely covered the tip of my erect penis. Pete had so much foreskin that it extended well past the tip of his penis. I wanted to see his head so I gripped his shaft firmly and ran my hand down. The excess of foreskin gathered up around his shaft and made it feel soft and squishy.

There were bubbles of skin around the underside of the head, like tiny pimples. I ran the pad of my thumb over them, across the sensitive skin where his foreskin met the head, but I couldn't feel the bubbles. I stuck my tongue out to see if I could feel them that way.

Pete groaned loudly and I suddenly became aware of what I was doing -- I was so focused, I hadn't realised I'd just licked his dick! I felt myself flushing up. I looked into Pete's face and saw his expression clouded with desire. He was so clearly aroused, it made my stomach lurch in delight. He wanted me?

I held his dick firm in my hand and started stroking, guiding the loose foreskin up and down his shaft, trying to reveal as much of the head of his penis as possible each time. I watched my tanned hand stroking Pete's dick, watched the foreskin moving and the dark purple head being revealed then hidden again. It was hypnotic.

I thought about licking it again, but I was nervous. What if he wanted me to suck it? I could barely fit my hand around it. Instead I wriggled my body around to lie beside Pete, pressing my chest against his side and resting my head on his beefy arm. I kept stroking his dick and when he looked into my face and met my eyes he smiled lazily and kissed me. Just like that, I was kissing a guy and stroking his dick.

He broke the kiss to whisper, "Eli, you're so hot. It's so great when you touch me."

I grinned and kept stroking his penis. I was filled with excitement and pleasure at the way his breathing changed.

"Eli, faster baby," He grunted then kissed me harder -- grabbing the back of my head and pulling me into him so our lips were sliding over each other, so soft yet solid.

I sped the motion of my hand up, it felt different to jerking myself and at this angle a different muscle group was being used, my arm started getting tired and I switched to my left arm for better access. Pete rolled his head around and groaned in pleasure so I knew he didn't mind.

It felt like his dick was getting harder in my hand and I wondered if maybe he wasn't fully hard, that that was the reason it seemed like he had so much foreskin. But then I felt his body tensing up and realised he must be close to orgasm.

He stopped kissing me but kept his grip on my head, his fingers caught up in my long hair and pushed my head into his shoulder as his body jerked and he came. I had to twist my head to see, but I watched as ropes of gloopy white semen burst out of his cock. The first spurt hit just above his belly button and it was quickly followed by two more, one on his treasure trail and one in his pubic hair. There were some dribbles which got on my fingers, too.

I watched as the semen seemed to melt into his dark curly hair. At first that semen had seemed all connected, ropes of goo which was thinner in places and more like blobs in others. But now it was cooling it was more transparent and liquid, like a glaze over Pete's hairy belly with only some globs visible caught in his curls. I wondered what it would be like to lick it out of his fur.

"It's cum," I heard Pete grumble into my ear. "You've seen it before."

I met his eyes and he was grinning. I stammered, "I've seen my own, but never... You know..."

"I know," He replied simply, and pulled my face in for another kiss. It was long and slow and I suddenly became aware of my own dick, pulsing and dribbling in my boxers and desperate for attention.

I wondered if Pete was going to touch me now, how I should go about asking. I was nervous again, nor sure how to ask or even if I wanted him to touch me -- I wanted to get off, but I didn't want him to laugh if my dick was too small or not want to touch it because it looked so different to his.

I started panicking and my mouth went dry. I stammered an incoherent sentence. "Do you, uh, do you want to, um."

Pete looked at me through half-closed lids. "I wanna watch you jerk, Eli, that would be so hot."

My hand was sticky with Pete's cum but I reached down to my pants anyway, pulling at the waistband of my loose shorts. My dick twitched at the thought of being touched but I was having trouble breathing, I was really nervous.

I looked at Pete for reassurance, but he had his eyes closed and was lowering his head back onto the bed and jiggling his body around like he was getting ready to sleep. I guess he wasn't actually waiting to watch me touch myself.

It was half passed ten and dark outside, but Pete hadn't invited me to stay the night and I definitely wasn't going to shake him awake to ask if it was okay. So I put my shoes and tee shirt back on and headed for home.

I lived in the suburbs just beyond the downtown area. It was easy to catch a bus in to town and quite close to Pete's house, but to get back to my house from Pete's I'd have to swap buses downtown because the only direct route looped around across the bridge to the other main shopping hub. I didn't like waiting around ages for buses, so I generally caught one into downtown then walked the rest of the way from there.

I usually tried to keep an eye on my surroundings when I walked home in the dark, but tonight my head was swirling with thoughts of jerking Pete off -- there was the warm glow at causing him such great pleasure, but I was also anxious about whether I should have stayed or if there were things people normally did after handjobs that I was meant to have done but just hadn't known about.

I was pulled from my thoughts when I heard someone calling my name. I was just passing an old downtown shopping complex and the voice came from the shadows under it. When I looked over I could see the glare of a cigarette but I couldn't see who was there so I just stood there in the street.

He was yelling out something about not wanting me to walk home alone and I replied without really being aware of my words. I decided to keep walking -- and walk fast -- when the guy came out of the shadows.

In the streetlamp light I recognised Damien, the sexy skinhead who'd hit on me at the show last night. He was in a singlet and tight bleached jeans again, displaying his hot tattoos. I felt my stomach flip and my cock starting to swell at the sight of him -- I couldn't help it, tattoos just do that to me. I looked down, hoping to hide my delight at seeing him.

When he spoke again, his voice was low and slightly gravelly from the smoke. "You going home from a gig? It's a bit early to be heading home, isn't it?"

It was past eleven so it wasn't that early, but I didn't know what to say and I didn't want to mention Pete so I just said nothing. What if Damien wanted to hurt me? If I just walked away now, would he stop me?

But I didn't want to walk away, not really. Damien was only a couple metres from me and in the silence of the night I could hear his steady breathing and the way he dragged deep on his cigarette. When I looked up he was staring intently from beneath those dark brows, his mouth quirked.

He took another slow drag of his cigarette. His eyes didn't leave mine and his expression was so intense I had to look away, down at the glow of his cigarette. He moved his hand away from his face and I found my eyes tracing along the bright curves and points of his tattoos. I itched to get close and have a good look at them.

I love tattoos and I loved how the look on Damien. When his bicep flexed it made the bright shapes move in fascinating ways. He rested his arm against his rounded belly and the light fell across his tattoos. It was all I could do to not stare like a zombie.

If felt my dick getting harder in my shorts and I had to swallow to get saliva back in my mouth. I moved my hand to hook through a pant loop in the hope I could hide my erection, but it only served to remind myself that just that evening I'd had my friend's dick in my hand. Now here I was gawking at a skinhead like a slut.

"Let me walk you home."

I shook my head to clear it and muttered, "I gotta go."

He didn't make any move to stop me. I tried to forget the way he looked in just his singlet and jeans in the street lamp but the memory stayed with me, stronger and more arousing than the memory of jerking my friend.

Pete invited me to his house two or three times a week -- it was crazy to think that just three weeks ago I was having my first kiss, and now I had a steady boyfriend and was jerking him off nearly every day.

I'd see him at hardcore shows on the weekend but he never acknowledged me as his boyfriend -- if anything, he seemed to be avoiding me. I'd finally built up the courage to get a haircut, lose all that shaggy hair and try to look more manly. I didn't know if Pete had even noticed it. That made me sad but I didn't have much time to dwell on it -- I was busy with work and preparation for my final university exams.

I work at a popular tattoo parlour called Defiant. We get customers from both sides of the bridge because we're known to be clean, quick and skilful. I was getting a bit of a rep and now I was requested more than some of the artist's who'd been there years. The work helped keep my mind off Pete.

And keep my mind off Damien. He'd come into my work on Saturday, just walked right on up to me where I was killing time at the counter and asked me to give him a lip piercing. Even thinking about the experience made my dick harden and made me want to swoon, I had to push the thoughts aside to keep from having a heart attack. Pete and I were sharing something, and that mattered so much more than any hot skinhead.

But Damien was obviously out and his friends didn't care. Sometimes, alone at night, I'd wonder if Pete would ever be willing to come out and announce me as his boyfriend. But I tried not to think like that.

Finally on Friday afternoon I got a text from Pete. There was a show that night and he wanted us to meet at his place and go together..

I was nervous on the bus to Pete's. My nerves only increased when I peeked in the door of his detached rooms and saw him alone.

"Hey," I said.

Pete was lying on his mattress in a tee shirt and boxer shorts, tapping away at his laptop keyboard. He looked up when I spoke and grinned widely.

"Eli! Come here!"

I walked over and knelt on the mattress beside him and he rolled onto his side and opened his arms to me for a hug. I got down on my side awkwardly, trying to co-ordinate myself around his beefy arms. I didn't know if he wanted his arm to be around my neck or my shoulder and I shifted around uncertainly until Pete grunted his annoyed amusement and I just sopped moving.

He grinned and grabbed me around the neck, pulled me in for a kiss. It was open-mouthed and wet and Pete kept his hand on my neck as if afraid I'd pull away. When he finally pulled back so we could breath, he muttered, "So glad you're here Eli!"

I grinned at him, feeling a rush of happiness. Pete grinned back and grabbed my hand, pushed it down to his crotch. I gasped as I felt his hard dick, jutting out of his fly.

"Give it a rub," He groaned. I looked down at my hand, curled around his purple torpedo penis. When I glanced up at his laptop I saw the blank desktop. It made me wonder if he'd been watching porn and hurriedly exited the window when I arrived.

I started moving my hand up and down, twisting slightly as I moved from the base to the head. I watched Pete's generous foreskin moving around, bunching up and growing tighter but never quite taut.

Pete dropped his head back onto the mattress and let his mouth fall open as he moaned. With the hand on my neck he nudged me downward and I let him. I was fascinated by the way his foreskin moved -- partly disgusted, partly curious. It didn't look like the dicks in porn, or like my own skinny pale shaft. Pete's dick seemed like it never got fully hard, just stayed squishy and fat.

I scooted down on the mattress, resting my weight on my knees so my hands were free. I stroked Pete's dick with one hand and with the other I played with the dark wiry bush of hair that was sticking out of his fly. He was moaning and making small thrusts with his hips. It seemed like he was really into it.

Pete's boxers were loose cotton, the hems sat away from his thighs so I could see up inside them. When he thrust his hips they gaped open.

I rested my head on his thigh and have a clear view up his boxer leg at his balls hanging in their wrinkly sack, shifting around as I played with his dick. I could also see his crack, dark and tempting. I loved playing with my hole when I masturbated and I couldn't wait to give Pete the same kind of pleasure.

I grabbed his dick again and Pete grunted his delight, thrust his hips harder than ever. That made his butt lift up so I had a clear view in at his dark hole.

I sucked my finger into my mouth and, still stroking Pete with the other hand, I let my hand slide along between his thigh and his boxers until I could feel the warm flesh of his crack. It wasn't hard to find his hole, and when I started teasing the sensitive skin there Pete let out a loud groan.

I grinned in pride. But the next moment Pete was sitting up and grabbing my hand, pushing it away from his boxers.

"What?" I said in surprise.

Pete wrinkled his nose at me. "Don't do that Eli. Just rub or suck me. None of the gay stuff."

He flopped back down on his back. I realised my hand was still on his dick, but now I wasn't remotely aroused. I felt cold and shocked and hurt. Gay stuff? What did he think I was, what he was? He wanted me to suck his dick but didn't want any 'gay stuff'?

I sat there frozen until Pete bucked his hips and grunted, "Come on baby, come on."

Like a robot I resumed stroking -- what else could I do? But my heart wasn't in it. I hardly even felt a stirring when Pete called out my name as he came.

As soon as he'd had his orgasm Pete stuffed his dick back into his boxers, batting my hand away. He got up and pulled off his tee shirt, wrinkled his nose as he looked at the splashes of semen wet and sticky on it, and threw it into a pile in the corner. I just sat there as he got dressed and trimmed his beard, then we left for the show together.

There was a small crowd already gathered outside the venue and happy voices and laughter could be heard rising from the hubbub. Normally I felt really amped and excited when I stood outside a hardcore show -- I knew that there was a good night of movement and music ahead of me -- but tonight I was just feeling a bit flat. Pete had hardly talked to me the whole way there and I didn't know what to say to him.

As we waited at the traffic lights before crossing the last road before the venue, Pete turned to me and said, "Listen Eli, it's not a great look if we turn up together. People might judge and I'm not ready for that yet. Do you want to walk around the block and then come over like you've just arrived?"

I gaped at him. He'd said we could go to the show together. Had he just wanted a quick handjob and nothing more? He was already turning away and I didn't know what to say except okay.

But as I watched him crossing the street and waving to his friends, I felt more isolated than I ever had at a hardcore show. These people, and especially Pete, were supposed to be my friends. So why the hell would they care if I was gay?

I thought about crossing the road and joining the crowd but I just didn't have the energy. I turned away and walked home.

It still wasn't late -- it was an All Ages shows and they always started in the early evening so young drivers could get home before their license curfew. The street lamps came on as I trudged through the streets, the bustle of traffic and light of shop windows slowly dying off as I approached the less popular downtown area.