My Trusted Friend Ch. 06

I was taken by surprise when the shower curtain suddenly opened. He stood there naked. He was still erect and his eyes were filled with lust. I still do not, in general, find the male form sexually exciting, but I found my friend, in particular, to be well put together and very sexy. Although I had a larger frame, his shoulders were broader and I envied his V-shaped torso and trim waist.

"I, uh, I guess I could use a shower myself," he said as he joined me and closed the curtain.

I let him take the soap from me and wash himself as I watched. He rinsed and then soaped up my already-clean erection. He rinsed it thoroughly before he surprised the ever-living hell out of me and went down to his knees. Taking my balls gently in hand, he used them to pull me forward as he opened his mouth and took me in. As I watched this process, he stared directly into my eyes. When I hit the back of his throat he choked a little, but he withdrew to the tip before taking me in again. He had only put his mouth on my cock once before and he had seemed reluctant to do it. Now, there was lust in his eyes as he repeatedly took me as deep as he could. I could feel my cockhead hitting the tight opening of his throat on every thrust. He gagged or choked a little each time, but kept gazing with intensity up at me.

It took less than two minutes. I braced myself with one hand on the wall and the other on his head and began to spurt into his mouth. It felt as inevitable as an avalanche as I shuddered, trying to thrust into his mouth and pumped more and more of my seed onto his tongue. My cockhead continued to strike his throat and choke him, but he never let up, meeting every thrust.

Worried about my feet slipping out from under me in my weakened and unbalanced condition, I eased myself down to my knees. He stared into my eyes. I looked at his lips and leaned to kiss him. He met my kiss hard and our lips parted, our tongues plunged and danced. I could taste my own cum as he shared what was left in his mouth with me. He wrapped his arms around my neck and I put one on the small of his back. Realizing what we were doing, I moved that hand from his back down to cup his small, muscular ass. I began to knead that rounded, well-formed ass as I reached to stroke his erection, which had been poking me in the belly since we started kissing.

He came explosively on the fourth stroke and his seed was washed down the drain before I had the chance to taste it.

Half an hour later, after we'd dried off and returned to the living room, we kissed again. That first kiss in the shower had been an expression of pure lust. This one was an exploration of desire that skirted around the edges of curiosity and dove deep into the depths of luxuriant sensuality. I kissed him because it felt good, and because I could. Like so many other things since we'd started down this path, it was a thing that would likely have felt wrong with any other man, but it felt right with him.

When we came up for air, we were both hard again, but neither of us was in a hurry. As we had gotten out of the shower, he had dried my back and said, "Let's not hurry this. We have the rest of the afternoon and all night too." I could see the wisdom in his words and I resisted the urge to spoil or cheapen this chance to be "gay for a day" by being unnecessarily hasty. We would take our time and pay attention to maximizing our pleasure.

We lay down on the sofa, naked in each other's arms, and continued to make out. I tried something I'd read in a dirty magazine and placed my cock on his and rubbed them together. The sensation was electric and we thrust our members against each other and enjoyed the erotic friction. He reached between us and began to stroke our cocks together in his hand, but the size differential made this awkward. We continued to kiss and things began to come again to a boil.

"Hey, man," I said, breaking our kiss, "I'll be right back."

I rose from the sofa and ducked down the hall to his bedroom and its giant waterbed. In the nightstand I found a bottle of lube. Bingo!

When I returned to the living room, he was lying on his back on the sofa, eyes closed. His modest erection had deflated somewhat, but was still in play. I knelt on the floor and leaned over to lick his nipple. In response, my broad-shouldered, hairy-chested friend actually giggled. "That tickles," he said in a slightly deeper voice.

Feeling silly myself, I told him I wanted him to, "Tickle me with his pickle." I showed him the bottle of lube I'd retrieved and placed it on the coffee table.

"I don't know...," he started. He looked at me and I saw something in his eye. I didn't understand what his eyes were saying. Had he changed his mind? Was he backing away from giving himself over to absolute pleasure with me for this one day we had together?

I licked his nipple again, then sucked it into my mouth. He groaned slightly and then sat up. "Let's finish that joint we started after lunch and get really mellow, so we can take our time and let things happen," he said.

I didn't really need any more weed at that moment. I was already taking my time and I was already ready to let just about anything happen. Something was up, however, with my friend. Maybe he needed his special herbal medicine to go further into what I would once have called 'depravity'.

"Okay," I agreed.

I didn't smoke much of what was left of the joint, letting him have the lion's share. While we smoked, I tried to draw him out a bit about his previous experiences with his friend in his home town. After a couple of leading questions, I asked, "What was his cock like?"

His mouth quirked up at one corner, in what was either amusement or fond remembrance. "Bigger than me, not as big as you," he stated, adding, "he was uncircumcised." I tried to get more information out of him, but all he said was, "He could really..." and he grew rather quiet.

By that point he'd finished smoking. I was still semi-erect, but he looked entirely soft. "Why don't you lie back on the sofa," I told him, "and let me pay some attention to your cock?"

He did and I tried getting up on my knees again and leaning over to take him into my mouth, but it was awkward. I rubbed his hairy chest and thighs as I tried to get a good angle on his cock, but it wasn't working.

He put his hand on my cheek to stop my clumsy attempts and said, "We both might be more comfortable on the waterbed." I grabbed the bottle of lube from the coffee table and followed him down the hall.

In his room he moved to the center of the waterbed and rolled to his back. He spread his legs as I maneuvered the rippling waves to kneel between them. I bent down and took his soft little cock into my mouth. Flaccid, he was about three inches long and quite slender. I found his soft cock fascinating; he'd always been hard our earlier times together and this was the first time I'd had to explore it in this state. It flopped and wiggled as I tongued it around my mouth until it began to grow, become altogether less floppy, less wiggly. Soon, I had a very stiff hard-on in my mouth.

I moved down, thinking to arouse him further by teasing his balls. Instead, I found myself lost in a remarkable experience. Stoned and in lust, with fantasies of him crossing the final line of taboo and feeling his cock in my ass, I started to lick his sack. Twenty minutes later I was still at it. In our previous experiences I'd always felt pressed for time, fearing discovery. Now, I luxuriated in sucking and kissing his sensitive balls and pulling the soft flesh of his scrotum with my lips. There were seemingly endless ways to amuse myself with his family jewels and their pouch.

My lips traveled back up the underside of his cock where, starting at the base, I planted a sucking kiss and licked. I moved up a bit and did it again. When I reached the point just beneath the crown, that most tender spot just below the 'V' that leads to the slit, I covered it with my lips and sucked. I kept right on sucking as I started stroking my tongue side-to-side across it. Some part of my brain told me this was a novel thing, a thing that I had never heard or read about. Another part of me wanted to wait no longer, to pour some lube on his cock and use it to rid myself of my anal virginity. I tried to ignore my internal distractions and simply enjoy the feel of his hot and tender flesh on my lips and tongue.

I got into a zone, a groove. I became oblivious to the passage of time—to everything except the blissed-out sensation of kissing my friend's dick. At some point during the proceedings, the doorbell rang but neither of us considered the possibility of answering it. Eventually, I felt the throbbing of his pulse in his cock grow into a series of what felt like spasms. Not until my friend started grunting "uh-uh-uh-uh" in time with these spasms did I realize he was shooting fat drops of fluid all over his belly and chest with each one. I kept the suction with my lips and stroked my tongue relentlessly as he emptied his load. Only when he finished with a final "ooh-aaaagh", did I relinquish my kiss to lick off the little bit of viscous fluid that dribbled from the hyper-sensitive tip of his spent cock.

I lay beside him and we rested. A glance at the window told me that the sun had not yet set on this long summer day. My erection was as solid as an oak beam. I wanted to cum, but I was positively consumed by my desire to have my friend take my ass. I began to contemplate ways to return my friend to an erect state.

"Well," I told him, "I messed up."

"What?" he asked, puzzled. "No, dude, that was awesome. I've never had anything quite like it."

"Flatterer," I accused him. "But I want to feel you in my ass. Now I've got to get you hard again."

"Dude, I'm not sure I—"

"Oh, you can be sure. I'll get you up again."

"Well, dude," he began, sounding doubtful, "it's just that—"

"Oh, ye of little faith," I chided and I propped myself up on my left elbow to suck his nipple. I cupped his balls in the palm of my right hand. "I know I can get you up again."

His scrotum was still damp with my saliva. I slowly, gently stroked my palm down over it and back up. After I had done this two or three times, he started to respond. His cock stayed soft, but his hips began sliding up as my palm slid down. It took several more passes of my palm down over his scrotum before I noticed he was inhaling, making an "ah" sound each time the tip of my middle finger rode down his taint and into the beginnings of the cleft of his ass. On the next several passes over his balls, I slid my hand farther down, my finger going deeper into that cleft. That little "ah" noise got more intense each time and his legs spread a little wider.

His eyes were closed. When I finally touched his pucker with the tip of my finger, he went silent. I began sliding my finger over his hole, making short strokes along the path of his crack. His pelvis tilted upward as I did this, providing me far easier access. The skin of my hands is rough, so I reached for the lube on his nightstand and popped it open. After applying some to my finger, I returned to caressing his most vulnerable place.

I watched his face for the entire time since I began making my finger become increasingly intimate with his anus. His eyes never opened. He was afraid to open them, to look at me.

When I started to penetrate him with my fingertip, he lifted his spread legs. His hands grabbed the backs of his legs and pulled his knees to his chest. He began to make tiny noises, sounding much like my wife did when I began to work my finger deeper into him. When he had relaxed somewhat, I added more lube and a second finger. The volume of his breathing increased with each slow, deliberate two-fingered thrust. Then I thought I heard him whisper something. I watched his face intently and he whispered something again, almost soundlessly. I never actually heard what he said, but his mouth kept repeating the nearly silent whisper and I was able to read his lips.

He was saying, "Take me!"

It was at some point after I read his lips and before I later came deeply into his tight, clutching ass that a revelation hit me. I realized how wrong I had been in so many of my assumptions about my friend and about myself. From the time I had first asked him to fulfill my cock-sucking fantasy, I had assumed that, as the one doing the sucking, I was naturally the submissive one. Getting up to my knees on the unstable surface of the waterbed, it occurred to me that maybe I hadn't been a submissive cock sucker, that maybe I had been an aggressive one. I had pursued the opportunity and had taken what had then seemed like a great risk to make it happen. I had aggressively sought to have his cock in my mouth at first to satisfy my curiosity, and then to satisfy my own lust as well as to bring him pleasure. As I re-opened the lube and poured it on my still-hard and increasingly impatient cock, I reflected on the fact that he had been the mostly passive, mostly submissive partner, allowing me to take what I had wanted from him.

I re-inserted my fingers to make sure he remained loose and he repeated his whisper, loud enough to be clearly heard. "Take me!" I didn't understand how he could have so successfully hidden this side of his sexuality. I hadn't even known how my desire for greater physical intimacy would explode after we had first experimented. He'd known for years exactly what he desired because he'd had it before and I knew no one had a clue what hidden lusts he harbored.

I lined up the head of my slippery cock with his opening and pushed until it popped inside his tight, muscular ring. He became very vocal as I worked my way deeper into him with a series of patient thrusts until I felt that ring clenched as far down on the base of my cock as it was possible for me to make it go. I won't try to describe the various noises he made in any detail, but some were soft and others were deep and masculine. I had been erect so long that I had feared that I would climax before I had even fully penetrated him, but somehow my cock had become desensitized and I found that I had no problem delaying my climax.

I stayed fully erect and I pumped him until some part of me noticed the sun was beginning to set outside but I felt in no hurry to cum. His legs were now on my shoulders and he was still holding the backs of his knees with his hands. I had found it necessary to add a bit of lube to keep things moving smoothly. My friend just lay there, eyes still closed, taking all I gave him with a semi-rapturous expression on his face.

Later, when I finally neared the point of no return, he moved his legs from off of my shoulders and used them to grasp me about the waist. His arms went around my neck and I let him pull me down. His eyes never opened as he kissed me, over and over. I could feel a wetness on his belly that I hadn't noticed before. His cock was still soft between us, but as we kissed I felt more fluid issuing from it. It was during one of those kisses, his legs around my waist, arms around my neck, that I finally succumbed to the shuddering, spasming orgasm that overtook me. Thrust after thrust forced my seed deep into him. He worked his hips up and down to help force me deeper and pull more of my seed into his body.

When finally I lay still but for the unpredictable tremors that shook me as the aftereffect of my climax and I felt my strength rapidly waning, he whispered playfully, his hot breath on my ear, "Take me again."

I was silent for a moment before pretending to snore.

"Very funny, dude," he said, and we both chuckled.

It was about nine when we got back out his bed, making our way to the kitchen for some leftover pizza to have for dinner. We left the lights of his apartment off because my friend was afraid it had been one of his neighbors knocking earlier and he didn't want them to pass back by and knock again.

My thoughts moved through strange places as he turned on the TV to watch the news and we ate the cold pizza, washing it down with cold beer. During a commercial he used the remote to mute the TV and turned to ask me a question. "Dude, do you think—"

I cut him off with my own question, "How'd it happen?"

"Huh?"

"How did it happen?" I enunciated more clearly.

His mind made a connection and he answered, "Between my friend and me back in my home town? Well, it--"

It was the wrong connection and I cut him off again, "Between you and my wife on that Christmas Eve I couldn't make it home because of the ice storm."

In the flickering light of the silent TV he looked like a silent film actor, his eyes wide and his mouth open in his expression of surprise. "What? Uh, how?"

"Yeah, man," I asked, "How?" I knew the question had come out of left field and clobbered him, but I didn't have any other way to ask him before I left tomorrow.

"She told you, didn't she," he said shaking his head. "Well, I did say that I'd respect whatever choice she made in that regard." He studied my expression, unsure of the situation. "What?" he asked. "Is this one of those things where you fuck your best friend in the ass for an hour and then chop him into itty-bitty pieces because he slept with your wife?"

I laughed then and it was a surprisingly carefree laugh. He could always make me laugh, no matter the fucked-up situations we had sometimes found ourselves in. "I was pretty upset when I found out about it, but I got over it. I had to decide how big a hypocrite I wanted to be because I didn't find out until after you and I had gotten, um, sexual. If you haven't figured it out yet, I've forgiven you for that Christmas Eve."

"That's...uh...very enlightened of you, dude. Thank you." He said those last two words with genuine emotion. "She had been crying when I stopped by with the presents that night. I asked if she wanted to smoke a joint to mellow her out and—for the first time in years—she said yes. Before I knew it, she was all over me, and I've never been able to say no to that tiny, skinny body and those big tits of hers."

"Especially when you're stoned," I added.

"Especially when I'm stoned," he agreed.

"But what about the other times? She told me about the whole affair, man," I lied. "I've forgiven you for that Christmas Eve but I haven't even come close to forgiving you for all of the rest of the times you fucked my wife since we got married."

"What? No! She said we what? Huh? I didn't. We didn't! There wasn't!" He seemed as genuinely flabbergasted as anyone I had ever seen.

I laughed. "Sorry, man," I said, "I couldn't resist fucking with you." I laughed again and felt a deep relief in my heart that it had only been a one-time thing and not a long-term affair. I didn't think of what he and I were doing as a long-term affair but then, again, I am a hypocrite.

And then we got stoned again.

After we got stoned again, I did turn our conversation back to some of his experiences with his home-town friend. The weed loosened him up, of course, but he was still reluctant to go into much detail. I won't say that I had a right to know the things I was curious about regarding his sexual proclivities, but I desperately wanted to know them. I pried without trying to seem like I was prying, but that's the kind of thing I'm not very good at. When he saw through my not-so subtle attempts, he told me plainly that he had never been able to penetrate a man. He'd tried to penetrate his home-town friend—and his friend had tried to penetrate himself on my friend's cock—but it's impossible to penetrate an ass with a flaccid cock. My friend felt that it was some kind of a mental block that would not allow him to do it. He became accustomed to receiving anal and received immense pleasure from it, but he'd foregone that as well in the years between ending things with his home-town friend and today.