Just One Bed

I met my best friend John in high school, when we were both on the ski team. Amazingly, we'd kept in touch through college, even though our universities were almost on opposite sides of the country. He was the best man at my wedding; his brother was his best man, but I was still happy to be there as one of the groomsmen.

Our wives and kids get along great; we often vacation together in the summer, renting a big house on the water where we'll all play games and stay up until the wee hours of the morning. While we don't live close to each other, we manage to stay in touch over the years, and our families feel like one big close knit community.

We both had been looking forward to our "guys skiing weekend" for months. It had actually been years since he and I had done anything with just us two, without our wives and kids.

Unfortunately, flight delays due to weather, and making multiple wrong turns in the rental car, meant we arrived at the resort much later than we had planned.

As a result, instead of the adjoining rooms that we had booked, there was only one room left in the whole hotel.

The girl behind the desk apologized profusely, and assured us that two rooms would be open the next night, but was steadfast that with it being high season there were no other openings.

"Does it at least have two queen beds?" I asked.

"No, sorry, it's a king. This particular room doesn't have a rollout either," she said.

"What do you think?" I asked John.

John sighed, "Let's just take it; I'm too tired to try and find a different place. We've known each other long enough that it's not any big deal to me. Besides, we used to have to bunk together on the ski team way back when. You OK with it?"

"Yeah, it's not ideal, but we can make do. We'll take it." I replied to the clerk.

Wrestling our luggage and skis down the long hallway, we finally found our room. Like we had expected, nothing fancy (we were there for the skiing, not the room); a table, chairs, TV on the dresser, hangers on a rod, and the bathroom. At least there was enough room for all our stuff.

"Why don't you shower first, John?" I suggested.

"Sounds good," he said, and headed off to the bathroom with his shower gear.

After calling my wife to let her know we had made it there safely (and telling her about the fiasco with the delays and the single room), I lay down on the bed while I waited. At least the bed was nice and comfortable, and in fact I feel asleep.

John woke me when he lightly tapped me on the shoulder saying "your turn." I was a little surprised to see that he was naked, but thinking back to our high school days that was par for the course with John. He thought nothing of walking around with nothing on following a shower with the team, and this was much like that.

"Don't forget to put on clean underwear. We didn't sleep naked in the past, and we aren't starting now," I teased him.

Sleepily he said, "Oh, right, will do."

I gathered my stuff and stumbled into the bathroom. I was glad to see there were several unused towels, so at least I wouldn't have to try and dry myself with John's soggy towel.

The hot water felt great on my tense shoulders and back. So good that I started to get a chubby, and I toyed with the idea of taking myself in hand to release some tension. But exhaustion won, so I reluctantly shut off the water, dried off, and brushed my teeth.

Remembering John's unintended nudity I put on my clean underwear in the bathroom and headed back to the bedroom area.

John was already sound asleep on one side of the bed, so I slipped under the covers on the other side and turned off the bedside light.

Sometime later I awoke from an erotic dream that I couldn't quite recall. There was a little light leaking in the window, so it wasn't quite morning. That's when I noticed that John was nestled up close behind me, with his arm around me, his stubbly chin against the back of my neck, and his very erect cloth covered penis between my ass cheeks.

I was shocked to say the least; neither John nor I had ever expressed any sexual interest in each other, or talked about being with another man. Like a lot of other guys I had fantasized about it in the past, but never did anything.

Another shocking thing was that my cock was rock hard too, and having him pressed up against me actually felt really good. I told myself it was the pent up tensions that I should have released in the shower. However, as I lay there, I had to admit that him pressed against me felt better than jerking myself off. WAY better. In fact, I started gently moving myself back against him, feeling his chest move against my back, and his cock rub up and down across my butt.

I stopped when he moaned a little in his sleep; when he started grinding against me and nuzzling my neck again I resumed my motions. His cock stroking up and down my ass crack was really doing a number on me; I had played with my own hole a few times, but having his hardness rubbing across it was SO much better.

The hand that was draped across me started moving around my chest, and when his fingers grazed my nipple I let out a soft moan. He gave a quiet snort and stopped, so I froze. Gradually I felt him relax, and his breathing deepened again, so I resumed grinding back against him. His thrusting resumed, as did his groping of my chest and nuzzling of my neck.

I was getting more and more into it, especially the feel of his hard cock. It felt about the same size as my 6", but it was how hard it was that enthralled me. I mean, I was hard too, but his felt like cloth covered steel.

John began more forcefully exploring my chest, and one of the times his hand tweaked my nipple especially firmly. It felt much more pleasurable than painful, but I cried out. I must have been a little too loud, because he woke up with a start.

"Oh jeez, Tom, I'm sorry, I must have been dreaming I was spooning with my wife," he said in a rush.

"It's OK John. No harm done," I replied.

After a few pregnant moments, I said "I hope you're not going to be too freaked out, but you'd been touching me for a while, and it felt really good to me."

"Seriously? Why didn't you wake me up and stop me?" he asked.

"Well, you were obviously enjoying it. And so was I. Look how hard my cock is."

I saw him glance at the bulge in my shorts, then back up at my eyes. I looked down at his shorts, with the big bulge still showing, then back up at him.

"I liked what you were doing. Would you like to do it some more?" I asked.

"Are you sure?" he said hoarsely.

In response, I gently pulled his arm around me again, and nestled back against him. His hand started to tentatively explore my abs and chest again. In a bit, he started running his hardness against my ass, and then his lips began slowly tracing their way up my shoulder to my neck.

My more fervent grinding against him emboldened his exploration even more, and his brushes across my nipple became tweaks, which elicited gasps of pleasure. All too infrequently his hand would brush across my engorged but covered manhood, bringing cries of frustration from me.

"You like that, don't you?" he teased, stroking my cock again.

Moaning, I turned my head towards his, and he lightly kissed me. I had never thought about kissing a man before, but it was electric. I kissed him back; our kisses got deeper and more urgent, and when his tongue invaded my mouth I thought I saw stars.

Our tongues danced back and forth, dueling to see who could give the other the most pleasure. I moaned into his mouth, which caused him to push his tongue deeper into mine.

He broke off the kiss. I didn't know why, until he looked down toward our waists. I looked down too, and noticed John's hand was at the top of my underwear. He looked me directly in the eyes with an intense look of lust. His mouth took mine again, and I felt him slip his hand inside my shorts and grasp my cock unclothed for the first time.

"Oh. My. God." was all I could gasp out.

He smirked, "I thought you'd like that skin-on-skin feeling better than through your shorts."

Without a word, he pulled my underwear completely off, and began to methodically stroke me. I was speechless with pleasure, only able to make mewling noises as his hand slid up, then down, then up, then down my cock. Yes, it was the same motion as I made on myself, but having someone else doing it - correction, having another man doing it - was infinitely better.

And John was good at it. He would play with the head, then tantalize the shaft, then caress my balls. Not always in the same order, but mixing it up, so it would always be exquisite.

All the time he was doing his marvelous stroking, he was kissing some part of me. My mouth, my neck, my nipple, my chest, even my fingers (which was hotter than I thought it would be).

After what must have been a good 10 minutes of ecstasy he stopped. I let out a disappointed whimper until I saw that he was taking his own underwear off. He climbed back onto the bed and started stroking me again, while shifting himself so I could easily reach his cock.

Reaching out and touching John's hard penis for the first time was even more exciting than I thought it would be. The familiar soft-skin-over-hardness that I knew so well from masturbating, but different. Different in a wonderful way. Touching his head, stroking his shaft, cupping his balls. Hearing him moan in pleasure as I did them. Stroking him while he was stroking me was heaven. Back and forth we went, trying different things, different touches, different pressures, different grips. All to try to maximize the pleasure for the other.

I knew I wanted to go further. I began moving my body around so I could suck John's cock; John saw what I was doing and moved himself so he could be closer to my hardness.

I couldn't take it any longer, and took John's manhood into my mouth. It was a revelation of sensations; the salty precum taste, the clean masculine smell, the soft-and-hard texture of his cock, the sight of it disappearing, the slurping sounds.

John moaned loudly, and drew me deeply into his mouth. Our heads bobbed up and down on each other, first in a matching rhythm, then different, then matching again.

I was delirious with all the sensations. The singular feel of his cock head passing through my lips. The feel of his steel hard shaft against my tongue. The texture of his balls as I took first one, then the other, then both into my mouth, feeling them drawing up towards his body in pleasure. The flavors of his precum as I drew it from him, and the smell and taste of his excitement as I buried my face in his crotch. All the while he was doing the same things to me.

All too soon, it was too much for me to take; I took my mouth off him long enough to say, "I'm gonna cum."

He moaned, "Me too - cum in my mouth."

That was all it took. As I unleashed my first spurt I felt John's cock swell and pulse in my mouth. The dual sensations of cumming and being cum in was indescribable. All I knew was that I wanted John's cum. I just kept sucking and swallowing and cumming for what felt like forever, but finally John said, "Stop, I'm too sensitive to take any more."

We lay back on the bed, catching our breath.

After a few minutes, John whispered, "Tom, can I tell you something?"

"Man, after what we just did you need to ask?" I joked.

"Yeah, but I don't want you to freak out," he said earnestly.

"Ok, I won't, what is it?" I wondered.

"Well, I've actually been wondering about what it would be like to have sex with a man for a long time. I didn't expect this to happen, and sure didn't plan it, but it was even better than I fantasized. I hope we're still going to be able to be friends?" he said softly.

"I had no idea, John. I've wondered what it would be like too. And I agree, it WAS better than anything I'd made up in my dreams. To be honest, I'm kinda sorry we ended up waiting this long. After all these years, of course we're still friends," I replied.

"I'm really glad to hear that Tom. Now we've got just one more decision to make," he said.

"What's that?" I asked.

"Whether we really want that additional room that'll be freeing up tomorrow," he said with a grin, as he crawled towards me on the bed.