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Best-Friend Fantasy Comes True
- Thread starter sfcfml
- Start date
Glad all is ok. I was worried 
Undisclosed
Slut
- Joined
- May 24, 2005
- Posts
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Eagerly awaiting...
I have to say that this story is magnificent. Such realism and character diversity is rare to find. And of course, Jay and Stu are fraking hot. sfcfml, I hope you can find the time to finish your story. I'll be here to read it. 
I have to say that this story is magnificent. Such realism and character diversity is rare to find. And of course, Jay and Stu are fraking hot. sfcfml, I hope you can find the time to finish your story. I'll be here to read it.
QFT
Quoted for Truth!
I miss this story! Hope to see you back soon sfcfml
sfcfml
On the Prowl
Hi. Many, many things have happened to me the last few months. They have affected me, and my story. Here's the latest, many months in the making.
Part 40
It was a rainy, cold October Saturday in my hometown in rural Iowa. I had left my rain jacket back at college, but I stayed warm because I had laundered my cum out of Jay's practice jersey and was wearing it over a long-sleeve t-shirt similar to the one Terry had worn at Bible study a few days earlier.
I was home to see Kirk, my best buddy from high school, whose mom had recently been diagnosed with terminal cancer. As I piloted my Toyota Tercel toward Kirk's familiar family farmhouse, I tried to estimate how many times one of our parents had driven one of us up and down that gravel driveway with the intention of helping us foster a friendship. Certainly it had to have been a hundred times. Maybe more. Kirk's family was salt of the earth. Each and every one of them. His dad, like my dad, had died too young. Now his mom was dying, and for obvious reasons Kirk was hurting and had made it clear that I was the friend he wanted -- needed -- to see.
So much had happened in just the couple months since I had last seen him, during the trip when I had touched a naked male penis for the first time -- that of an 18-year-old hockey player in a northern Minnesota sauna no less.
Kirk knew nothing of the details. Should I tell him? Not this trip.
A lot had happened with Kirk too, some of it still not discussed between us. There was the issue of Jessica, my ex from high school whom Kirk had been dating.
Should I bring it up? Not this trip.
I, like Kirk, had experienced the loss of a parent at a too-early age. So even at 19 I had the vocabulary to speak to someone for whom death was fresh. "I am so sorry." That's all you really need to say. But as I walked toward the familiar side door of Kirk's farmhouse, I realized I had no idea what to say when the person who answers the door was perhaps a couple months away from dying.
"Oh, hi, uh, Mrs. --"
"Stu, it's great to see you."
Kirk's mom most certainly was thinner than the last time I had seen her. Her eyes seemed deep-set in darkness. Her smile forced.
"Yeah, wow, it's, um, great to see you."
Kirk's mom folded half of her pained smile into a wrinkled nose and blinked twice in a way that said, no, Stu, it's not great for you, or for me, to see me in this situation. My bottom lip quivered. I did not want Kirk's mom to see the face of a 19-year-old not strong enough to keep from crying, so I buried it in her shoulder and was mature enough to realize the irony of a terminally ill middle-aged person comforting a perfectly healthy young one.
When I pulled myself from Kirk's mom's shoulder, I came to realize all that needed to be said as she petted my hair. "I am so sorry."
Then we both heard Kirk's bari-tenor voice. I stepped back, wiped my nose on my wrist, and crossed to meet my buddy, my best buddy, dressed in his trademark tight jeans and, on this day, a tucked-in checkered flannel shirt.
"Hey, Kirk, man ..."
Kirk's dirty blond hair was wet but had the center part that he wore all through high school. His blue eyes sparkled in his trademark glass-half-full way. I took Kirk's right hand in mine, ignoring for now that it was the hand that he probably masturbated with.
"Stu, thanks for coming."
Kirk put his left hand on my back and drew my body into his. He smelled of Dial soap and Speed Stick, as if fresh from the junior high shower.
"Anytime. You know I'd be here."
I moved my right hand to his back and initiated a hug. Then my eyes met his blue ones. No words were uttered, but the thousand things that were said by the eye contact were outnumbered only by the things that would be left unsaid an hour or so later.
And then, it was just Kirk and me, the two of us in the farmhouse's familiar basement. I was flooded with a feeling that despite my various awakenings, nothing really had changed. The same old Foosball table was in the corner, by a shelf filled with board games ranging from Chutes & Ladders to Risk. I figured that the games hadn't been touch in years, and certainly not since I had lost my virginity to Rebecca and had experienced gay sex with Rudolf, Jay, and Jay's brother.
In a flash my mind went back to when Kirk and I were fourteen, the night we played Truth or Dare with a foreign exchange student from Spain. We had started out in the basement but then moved to the barn's hayloft where eventually, of course, all three of us ended up entirely naked. It had been dark, except for a bare lightbulb in the corner, which gave me just enough light to see the shadow of Kirk's perky penis that had seemed to stick out more than lay flat for as long as I had known him. The Spanish boy, by contrast, had a long uncut one that pointed down. While Kirk's dick had been the subject of my lust for years, on that night I could not stop looking at the exchange student's foreskin, and his black bushy pubes.
I was trying to remember the Spanish word for cock when my daydream was interrupted by Kirk turning on the TV for some background noise. As I looked at my best friend's basically nonexistent butt in his characteristically tight farmer jeans, I took a seat and wondered silently whether Kirk and Jessica had had sex on the very couch where I was sitting. The thought left me half jealous and half hard.
Kirk put his right arm on the back of the couch, sat on one shin, and gave me a nice view of his crotch. After all these months, his penis was still there. Looked pretty much the same, even though I was yearning to confirm whether it had endured thrusts of violence into Jessica's arousing frame. My ex-girlfriend's frame.
Shit.
"You cold, Stu?"
"No, why?"
"You just have two shirts on. What is that, a baseball jersey?" Kirk said the words "baseball jersy" as if it were dress. "Never seen you in one of those before."
I declared that my wardrobe was a "new look, I guess," and then steered the conversation to where it needed to be. I said all the right things -- that I "couldn't believe this" and that it "wasn't fair," and Kirk of course agreed and volunteered that it had caused plenty of friction.
"Friction? What do you mean?"
"Well, I have some news, Stu. Jessica and I. We broke up."
My eyes drifted back to Kirk's crotch, relieved that maybe it wouldn't be thrusting into Jessica's anytime soon, but wondering silently how many times Kirk had blown his seed into my ex, seed I wanted to see and feel, and an ex who remained one of my jackoff fantasies.
"Wow, Kirk, I'm sorry to hear that."
"Are you?"
"Sure."
"Really?"
"OK, no."
"I didn't think so. Stu, look, before we talk about about my mom, let me just say, I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"For dating your ex-girlfriend."
"It's OK."
"It's been bugging me, for a while."
"Why?"
"Well, it was more than dating."
Here comes the coming clean about cumming, I thought.
"What do you mean?"
"She's pretty hot, Stu. You know that. Things got pretty, you know, pretty physical, pretty fast. Looking back on it, too fast."
I was angry, jealous, relieved, and turned on all at once. So naturally I quickly glanced at Kirk's crotch and then made light of the situation.
"Can there be a too fast?"
Kirk did not see it as a joke.
"Yeah, I think there can be. Wow, Stu, she was into me. My body." I felt a tingle in my groin upon hearing Kirk say the word "body."
"I mean, Stuie, she's hot. I liked her body, but, wow ..."
I broke him off with a whisper. I had to know, terminally ill mom upstairs or not.
"You had sex?"
"Yep. Right where you're sitting. One of the times, at least. Well, maybe three."
I glimpsed at Kirk's crotch to see if he was as turned on as I was. I thought I saw a bit of a stir, but couldn't be sure.
"Jessica said you and she didn't?"
"Didn't what?"
"Didn't have sex? You and Jessica. That's what she said. Is that true, or was she lying about that too?"
"No, that's true."
"She said that was the case, but I was wondering, judging by how she came on to me, and how much she lies."
"Lies?"
Kirk ignored my question and proceeded to tell me what I wanted to hear but yet didn't.
"Don't tell anybody, but it happened for the first time at the end of our driveway, in her car, actually."
"It?"
"Sex. We screwed there, in the car, at the end of the driveway."
"No shit? Your driveway?"
"Yeah. It was pretty hot. Then we had a couple quickies here, in the basement. And I started thinking with the wrong head, Stu, and drove down to see her at her college a lot."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. And that's where we REALLY did it. Like, in bed, which was a lot better. Experimented a lot."
I got hot in one way and bothered in numerous ways at the thought of my ex-girlfriend experimenting with the first male body I had ever really lusted after -- a long and lean body not as muscled and baseball-playerish as Jay's, but one that I had watched grow from a pubescent adolescent in the junior high locker room to an 18-year-old man who looked delicious when naked during our still-puzzling-to-this-day shower in his Freshmen dorm a year earlier. Throughout the years, Kirk's penis had stayed pretty much the same. A little smaller than Jay's, a tad thinner, and whiter too, but it looked large and sort of vulnerable on Kirk's skinny seventh-grade frame. But by the time we were seniors, Kirk's pubes had seemed to give shelter to his perky penis and his balls had begun sagging in a way that suggested he was most definitely a man.
And, from the looks of his crotch there on the couch, his manhood was multiplying. Mine sure was, and as I remember was perhaps three-quarters hard.
"Stu, are you listening?"
"Yeah, sorry. You said, um, you were, ah, experimenting ..."
"Yeah, you know, BJs, me doing the same to her."
"Wow ..."
"At the same time."
"Sixty-nine?"
"That's it!"
I moved Jay's practice jersey away from my crotch and looked toward the TV. And sure enough, a second later I could feel my best friend's eyes on my bulging crotch.
Fucking shit!
Out of the corner of my eye I could see my buddy adjust himself in his tight jeans.
Jesus Christ!
But when I looked back toward Kirk, my eyes had to go not to his erection, but to his eyes. My best friend's eyes.
"Yeah. Anyway. Sort of liked that better, to be honest."
"What?"
"Blowjobs. You know."
"Better than what?"
"Sex."
"Well, that's sex, isn't it?"
"Well, OK. Screwing."
I didn't ask which he liked better -- giving or receiving the oral -- and it would be three long years until I got the answer. But what I did do was get enough courage to look back at Kirk's crotch. In less exciting times, Kirk's perky penis usually sort of snaked down the left side of his leg. On that evening, in Kirk's basement, the left side of my best friend's leg was lonely and a mound unmistakably had developed on the left side of his zipper. I could not help but look, and Kirk could not help but move his pant leg down a little to let his erection point directly toward his navel.
My best friend, it seemed, was fully hard. And was sitting perhaps a foot from me.
"Stu, I guess I learned a lot."
"What did you learn?"
"That sex is powerful, and exciting, but once you do it, it sort of takes the edge off, you know?"
"I know."
Actually, I knew no such thing. Sex had lost no edge for me. Just the opposite. Particularly in Kirk's basement, with him hard, and on the couch where he had screwed my ex.
"You do know?" Kirk raised his eyebrows. "Like, personally?"
"I've had some experience recently too."
I could not quite place Kirk's reaction. It seemed to be a mixture of disappointment and interest, but I couldn't be sure. But there was little question that he, too, had been looking at my crotch.
"At college. College has a way of doing that too you."
"Who was she?"
There was a she, by the name of Rebecca. But of course there also was a he, and a very hot one at that. His name was Jay, and it was his practice jersey that I was wearing while hearing my best friend tell about screwing my ex.
I tugged at Jay's jersey as I explained that I had lost my virginity to another RA, who was 22, who also had been pretty aggressive, and how "that was a mistake, too, looking back on it."
"Are you sorry you lost it -- you know, your virginity -- to her?"
"How'd you know I was a virgin?"
"Well, I was, before Jessica. I figured you were. We're best friends, for crying out loud."
That was true, we were best friends. But Kirk had no clue about Jay and me. I did not like that I was keeping it a secret, but I didn't know how to tell Kirk. And then there had been the Bible study, and the homosexuality discussion four evenings previous.
"Well, yeah. Her name was Rebecca. Just don't call her Becky, or she'll blow."
"What's wrong with that?" Kirk chuckled. "Nothing better than a blow."
"Not that kind of blow, doofus. Blow her top."
"I know. I'm just kiddin' ya."
"I'm sorry she was the first. I wish it would've been somebody else."
"Like Jessica?"
I shrugged.
"C'mon, Stu. Come clean. We're buds."
"Yeah. Her. Or somebody like her, I guess."
"Any other ladies, Romeo?"
Again I could answer truthfully, and again I did. No, there was no one else.
"So nobody else? At all? At college?"
I scrunched my lips together, raised my eyebrows, and prepared to tell Kirk a secret that would've changed our friendship, and maybe our lives, forever. But then -- crrrreeeek -- the stairs. Kirk's mom appeared with a pitcher of lemonade and three glasses.
Kirk put a pillow on his crotch and I pulled Jay's practice jersey over mine as Kirk's mom asked whether we had had "enough time." Kirk said we had, and the three of us proceeded to talk for an hour. It was one of the most vivid, memorable experiences of my life. Kirk's mom was just coming to grips with the fact that she was dying, and since she had lost a husband as well she was remarkably forthcoming about the feelings of anger, including toward God, that she felt.
Her tears did not flow. The same could not be said for Kirk. At one point, when I brought up the subject about how "unfair" it was for Kirk to lose both parents at such an early age, he aimed his familiar and typically happy-go-lucky blue eyes into mine, let them redden, and allowed himself to cry as if he was a 5-year-old who had just fallen off his bike and yearned for Mommy to kiss his skinned knee.
Kirk's mom put her hand over her mouth and sniffed in a sob. Her boy's reaction was even beyond what a mother could comfort. So it was I who scooted over a foot and touched my best friend on the basement couch where he had screwed my ex-girlfriend. It was Kirk who reached out to me. His mom left the room as Kirk somehow got his face under Jay's jersey and onto my long-sleeve t-shirt. with each of his sobs, my chest was jostled and made warm with Kirk's breaths, and after about ten seconds I could feel the dirty blond's body fluids soak onto my skin as we both heard the familiar creek of the family's stairs. As Kirk's mom left the basement to go to the kitchen, her son and I sat in an embrace for perhaps thirty seconds, my hands on his skinny back, sometimes rubbing his his head or his bare neck.
"It's OK, Kirk. It's OK."
And then, with a full-throated sob, Kirk pushed his body into mine and pretty much forced me to recline back on the couch. He pulled his feet from the floor, wrapped his arms around my back, and sobbed into my neck. As I petted the back of my best friend's hair, I felt his crotch push into my thigh. Kirk was taller, so his privates landed perhaps three inches below mine, on my left thigh. There was no question that there was a mound there. Kirk pressed his penis into my muscle, as he had done into my hand in the high school cafeteria years earlier. This time, though, the sexually experienced 19-year-old moved his penis away and then pressed it into me again, grinding gently, thrusting a little. As if fucking. Me. Or at least my thigh.
I pressed my concealed hard-on into the midpoint of Kirk's chest as I let my right hand touch my best friend's left buttock. He shuddered and sighed as he buried his nose deeper into my collarbone and then moved one of his hands to the middle of my chest. The tall, lanky blond pressed hard as he went lower and lower, toward the point to where we both knew he was going. I let Kirk know it was OK by moving my hand from his buttock and more into his crotch, and I held my breath as I used my middle finger to lightly press against the area where I thought the backside of my buddy's testicles might be.
I felt a warm rush of blood to my brain at the moment that Kirk's hand found the top of my erection, pressing through my jeans. He used his thumb and firs two fingers to take stock, to assess the size and shape to the best of his ability through the blue denim. Had he had his hand on my naked penis, and had he looked down as he pressed, he would've seen precum ooze out of my pee slit and onto his hand. As it was, my fluid was being soaked up by my boxers.
And then -- fuck! -- the creaking stairs. Christ! Kirk lifted himself from me and stole a glance at my eyes before surveying his own crotch and scrambling for the pillow that would serve as his proverbial closet. I had my closet. Jay's practice jersey.
"Kirk?"
"Yeah, mom?"
"Your brother needs some help in the barn, with one of the cows."
"OK. In just a minute."
"He says it's pretty important. I think she's giving birth, the pregnant one."
"Oh, wow. Yeah, OK, he'll need me."
Kirk turned back to me.
"Stu, um. I don't know --"
"Kirk. Shh."
"If you wanna stay, this'll take an hour or so. We can, I can --"
My eyes floated away from Kirk and toward something I had never seen before on his basement wall.
A cross.
The sight left me deflated, in more ways than one.
* * *
I don't really remember how I got out of Kirk's basement and into my Toyota Tercel. What I do remember is starting the car, opening my jeans, and masturbating as I drove down my best friend's long driveway, the end of which, I knew, was the place where Kirk had blown his cum into my ex-girlfriend for the first time. I massaged the slit of my penis and felt the precum ooze and at that point wanted more than anything in the world for Kirk to be feeling me, but in a place where a cross was not hanging on the wall.
And then, at the end of the driveway, I saw some headlights came on. Shit! I stopped my manual stimulation and put the manual transmission in neutral so I could zip up and finished just as the Tercel was about to run off the road.
When I got to the end of the driveway and in a place where my Tercel's headlights could illuminate the body of the other vehicle, I recognized it immediately.
I could not believe it.
It was Jessica's.
I was horny.
And minutes later, I was to discover that she was, too.
Part 40
It was a rainy, cold October Saturday in my hometown in rural Iowa. I had left my rain jacket back at college, but I stayed warm because I had laundered my cum out of Jay's practice jersey and was wearing it over a long-sleeve t-shirt similar to the one Terry had worn at Bible study a few days earlier.
I was home to see Kirk, my best buddy from high school, whose mom had recently been diagnosed with terminal cancer. As I piloted my Toyota Tercel toward Kirk's familiar family farmhouse, I tried to estimate how many times one of our parents had driven one of us up and down that gravel driveway with the intention of helping us foster a friendship. Certainly it had to have been a hundred times. Maybe more. Kirk's family was salt of the earth. Each and every one of them. His dad, like my dad, had died too young. Now his mom was dying, and for obvious reasons Kirk was hurting and had made it clear that I was the friend he wanted -- needed -- to see.
So much had happened in just the couple months since I had last seen him, during the trip when I had touched a naked male penis for the first time -- that of an 18-year-old hockey player in a northern Minnesota sauna no less.
Kirk knew nothing of the details. Should I tell him? Not this trip.
A lot had happened with Kirk too, some of it still not discussed between us. There was the issue of Jessica, my ex from high school whom Kirk had been dating.
Should I bring it up? Not this trip.
I, like Kirk, had experienced the loss of a parent at a too-early age. So even at 19 I had the vocabulary to speak to someone for whom death was fresh. "I am so sorry." That's all you really need to say. But as I walked toward the familiar side door of Kirk's farmhouse, I realized I had no idea what to say when the person who answers the door was perhaps a couple months away from dying.
"Oh, hi, uh, Mrs. --"
"Stu, it's great to see you."
Kirk's mom most certainly was thinner than the last time I had seen her. Her eyes seemed deep-set in darkness. Her smile forced.
"Yeah, wow, it's, um, great to see you."
Kirk's mom folded half of her pained smile into a wrinkled nose and blinked twice in a way that said, no, Stu, it's not great for you, or for me, to see me in this situation. My bottom lip quivered. I did not want Kirk's mom to see the face of a 19-year-old not strong enough to keep from crying, so I buried it in her shoulder and was mature enough to realize the irony of a terminally ill middle-aged person comforting a perfectly healthy young one.
When I pulled myself from Kirk's mom's shoulder, I came to realize all that needed to be said as she petted my hair. "I am so sorry."
Then we both heard Kirk's bari-tenor voice. I stepped back, wiped my nose on my wrist, and crossed to meet my buddy, my best buddy, dressed in his trademark tight jeans and, on this day, a tucked-in checkered flannel shirt.
"Hey, Kirk, man ..."
Kirk's dirty blond hair was wet but had the center part that he wore all through high school. His blue eyes sparkled in his trademark glass-half-full way. I took Kirk's right hand in mine, ignoring for now that it was the hand that he probably masturbated with.
"Stu, thanks for coming."
Kirk put his left hand on my back and drew my body into his. He smelled of Dial soap and Speed Stick, as if fresh from the junior high shower.
"Anytime. You know I'd be here."
I moved my right hand to his back and initiated a hug. Then my eyes met his blue ones. No words were uttered, but the thousand things that were said by the eye contact were outnumbered only by the things that would be left unsaid an hour or so later.
And then, it was just Kirk and me, the two of us in the farmhouse's familiar basement. I was flooded with a feeling that despite my various awakenings, nothing really had changed. The same old Foosball table was in the corner, by a shelf filled with board games ranging from Chutes & Ladders to Risk. I figured that the games hadn't been touch in years, and certainly not since I had lost my virginity to Rebecca and had experienced gay sex with Rudolf, Jay, and Jay's brother.
In a flash my mind went back to when Kirk and I were fourteen, the night we played Truth or Dare with a foreign exchange student from Spain. We had started out in the basement but then moved to the barn's hayloft where eventually, of course, all three of us ended up entirely naked. It had been dark, except for a bare lightbulb in the corner, which gave me just enough light to see the shadow of Kirk's perky penis that had seemed to stick out more than lay flat for as long as I had known him. The Spanish boy, by contrast, had a long uncut one that pointed down. While Kirk's dick had been the subject of my lust for years, on that night I could not stop looking at the exchange student's foreskin, and his black bushy pubes.
I was trying to remember the Spanish word for cock when my daydream was interrupted by Kirk turning on the TV for some background noise. As I looked at my best friend's basically nonexistent butt in his characteristically tight farmer jeans, I took a seat and wondered silently whether Kirk and Jessica had had sex on the very couch where I was sitting. The thought left me half jealous and half hard.
Kirk put his right arm on the back of the couch, sat on one shin, and gave me a nice view of his crotch. After all these months, his penis was still there. Looked pretty much the same, even though I was yearning to confirm whether it had endured thrusts of violence into Jessica's arousing frame. My ex-girlfriend's frame.
Shit.
"You cold, Stu?"
"No, why?"
"You just have two shirts on. What is that, a baseball jersey?" Kirk said the words "baseball jersy" as if it were dress. "Never seen you in one of those before."
I declared that my wardrobe was a "new look, I guess," and then steered the conversation to where it needed to be. I said all the right things -- that I "couldn't believe this" and that it "wasn't fair," and Kirk of course agreed and volunteered that it had caused plenty of friction.
"Friction? What do you mean?"
"Well, I have some news, Stu. Jessica and I. We broke up."
My eyes drifted back to Kirk's crotch, relieved that maybe it wouldn't be thrusting into Jessica's anytime soon, but wondering silently how many times Kirk had blown his seed into my ex, seed I wanted to see and feel, and an ex who remained one of my jackoff fantasies.
"Wow, Kirk, I'm sorry to hear that."
"Are you?"
"Sure."
"Really?"
"OK, no."
"I didn't think so. Stu, look, before we talk about about my mom, let me just say, I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"For dating your ex-girlfriend."
"It's OK."
"It's been bugging me, for a while."
"Why?"
"Well, it was more than dating."
Here comes the coming clean about cumming, I thought.
"What do you mean?"
"She's pretty hot, Stu. You know that. Things got pretty, you know, pretty physical, pretty fast. Looking back on it, too fast."
I was angry, jealous, relieved, and turned on all at once. So naturally I quickly glanced at Kirk's crotch and then made light of the situation.
"Can there be a too fast?"
Kirk did not see it as a joke.
"Yeah, I think there can be. Wow, Stu, she was into me. My body." I felt a tingle in my groin upon hearing Kirk say the word "body."
"I mean, Stuie, she's hot. I liked her body, but, wow ..."
I broke him off with a whisper. I had to know, terminally ill mom upstairs or not.
"You had sex?"
"Yep. Right where you're sitting. One of the times, at least. Well, maybe three."
I glimpsed at Kirk's crotch to see if he was as turned on as I was. I thought I saw a bit of a stir, but couldn't be sure.
"Jessica said you and she didn't?"
"Didn't what?"
"Didn't have sex? You and Jessica. That's what she said. Is that true, or was she lying about that too?"
"No, that's true."
"She said that was the case, but I was wondering, judging by how she came on to me, and how much she lies."
"Lies?"
Kirk ignored my question and proceeded to tell me what I wanted to hear but yet didn't.
"Don't tell anybody, but it happened for the first time at the end of our driveway, in her car, actually."
"It?"
"Sex. We screwed there, in the car, at the end of the driveway."
"No shit? Your driveway?"
"Yeah. It was pretty hot. Then we had a couple quickies here, in the basement. And I started thinking with the wrong head, Stu, and drove down to see her at her college a lot."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. And that's where we REALLY did it. Like, in bed, which was a lot better. Experimented a lot."
I got hot in one way and bothered in numerous ways at the thought of my ex-girlfriend experimenting with the first male body I had ever really lusted after -- a long and lean body not as muscled and baseball-playerish as Jay's, but one that I had watched grow from a pubescent adolescent in the junior high locker room to an 18-year-old man who looked delicious when naked during our still-puzzling-to-this-day shower in his Freshmen dorm a year earlier. Throughout the years, Kirk's penis had stayed pretty much the same. A little smaller than Jay's, a tad thinner, and whiter too, but it looked large and sort of vulnerable on Kirk's skinny seventh-grade frame. But by the time we were seniors, Kirk's pubes had seemed to give shelter to his perky penis and his balls had begun sagging in a way that suggested he was most definitely a man.
And, from the looks of his crotch there on the couch, his manhood was multiplying. Mine sure was, and as I remember was perhaps three-quarters hard.
"Stu, are you listening?"
"Yeah, sorry. You said, um, you were, ah, experimenting ..."
"Yeah, you know, BJs, me doing the same to her."
"Wow ..."
"At the same time."
"Sixty-nine?"
"That's it!"
I moved Jay's practice jersey away from my crotch and looked toward the TV. And sure enough, a second later I could feel my best friend's eyes on my bulging crotch.
Fucking shit!
Out of the corner of my eye I could see my buddy adjust himself in his tight jeans.
Jesus Christ!
But when I looked back toward Kirk, my eyes had to go not to his erection, but to his eyes. My best friend's eyes.
"Yeah. Anyway. Sort of liked that better, to be honest."
"What?"
"Blowjobs. You know."
"Better than what?"
"Sex."
"Well, that's sex, isn't it?"
"Well, OK. Screwing."
I didn't ask which he liked better -- giving or receiving the oral -- and it would be three long years until I got the answer. But what I did do was get enough courage to look back at Kirk's crotch. In less exciting times, Kirk's perky penis usually sort of snaked down the left side of his leg. On that evening, in Kirk's basement, the left side of my best friend's leg was lonely and a mound unmistakably had developed on the left side of his zipper. I could not help but look, and Kirk could not help but move his pant leg down a little to let his erection point directly toward his navel.
My best friend, it seemed, was fully hard. And was sitting perhaps a foot from me.
"Stu, I guess I learned a lot."
"What did you learn?"
"That sex is powerful, and exciting, but once you do it, it sort of takes the edge off, you know?"
"I know."
Actually, I knew no such thing. Sex had lost no edge for me. Just the opposite. Particularly in Kirk's basement, with him hard, and on the couch where he had screwed my ex.
"You do know?" Kirk raised his eyebrows. "Like, personally?"
"I've had some experience recently too."
I could not quite place Kirk's reaction. It seemed to be a mixture of disappointment and interest, but I couldn't be sure. But there was little question that he, too, had been looking at my crotch.
"At college. College has a way of doing that too you."
"Who was she?"
There was a she, by the name of Rebecca. But of course there also was a he, and a very hot one at that. His name was Jay, and it was his practice jersey that I was wearing while hearing my best friend tell about screwing my ex.
I tugged at Jay's jersey as I explained that I had lost my virginity to another RA, who was 22, who also had been pretty aggressive, and how "that was a mistake, too, looking back on it."
"Are you sorry you lost it -- you know, your virginity -- to her?"
"How'd you know I was a virgin?"
"Well, I was, before Jessica. I figured you were. We're best friends, for crying out loud."
That was true, we were best friends. But Kirk had no clue about Jay and me. I did not like that I was keeping it a secret, but I didn't know how to tell Kirk. And then there had been the Bible study, and the homosexuality discussion four evenings previous.
"Well, yeah. Her name was Rebecca. Just don't call her Becky, or she'll blow."
"What's wrong with that?" Kirk chuckled. "Nothing better than a blow."
"Not that kind of blow, doofus. Blow her top."
"I know. I'm just kiddin' ya."
"I'm sorry she was the first. I wish it would've been somebody else."
"Like Jessica?"
I shrugged.
"C'mon, Stu. Come clean. We're buds."
"Yeah. Her. Or somebody like her, I guess."
"Any other ladies, Romeo?"
Again I could answer truthfully, and again I did. No, there was no one else.
"So nobody else? At all? At college?"
I scrunched my lips together, raised my eyebrows, and prepared to tell Kirk a secret that would've changed our friendship, and maybe our lives, forever. But then -- crrrreeeek -- the stairs. Kirk's mom appeared with a pitcher of lemonade and three glasses.
Kirk put a pillow on his crotch and I pulled Jay's practice jersey over mine as Kirk's mom asked whether we had had "enough time." Kirk said we had, and the three of us proceeded to talk for an hour. It was one of the most vivid, memorable experiences of my life. Kirk's mom was just coming to grips with the fact that she was dying, and since she had lost a husband as well she was remarkably forthcoming about the feelings of anger, including toward God, that she felt.
Her tears did not flow. The same could not be said for Kirk. At one point, when I brought up the subject about how "unfair" it was for Kirk to lose both parents at such an early age, he aimed his familiar and typically happy-go-lucky blue eyes into mine, let them redden, and allowed himself to cry as if he was a 5-year-old who had just fallen off his bike and yearned for Mommy to kiss his skinned knee.
Kirk's mom put her hand over her mouth and sniffed in a sob. Her boy's reaction was even beyond what a mother could comfort. So it was I who scooted over a foot and touched my best friend on the basement couch where he had screwed my ex-girlfriend. It was Kirk who reached out to me. His mom left the room as Kirk somehow got his face under Jay's jersey and onto my long-sleeve t-shirt. with each of his sobs, my chest was jostled and made warm with Kirk's breaths, and after about ten seconds I could feel the dirty blond's body fluids soak onto my skin as we both heard the familiar creek of the family's stairs. As Kirk's mom left the basement to go to the kitchen, her son and I sat in an embrace for perhaps thirty seconds, my hands on his skinny back, sometimes rubbing his his head or his bare neck.
"It's OK, Kirk. It's OK."
And then, with a full-throated sob, Kirk pushed his body into mine and pretty much forced me to recline back on the couch. He pulled his feet from the floor, wrapped his arms around my back, and sobbed into my neck. As I petted the back of my best friend's hair, I felt his crotch push into my thigh. Kirk was taller, so his privates landed perhaps three inches below mine, on my left thigh. There was no question that there was a mound there. Kirk pressed his penis into my muscle, as he had done into my hand in the high school cafeteria years earlier. This time, though, the sexually experienced 19-year-old moved his penis away and then pressed it into me again, grinding gently, thrusting a little. As if fucking. Me. Or at least my thigh.
I pressed my concealed hard-on into the midpoint of Kirk's chest as I let my right hand touch my best friend's left buttock. He shuddered and sighed as he buried his nose deeper into my collarbone and then moved one of his hands to the middle of my chest. The tall, lanky blond pressed hard as he went lower and lower, toward the point to where we both knew he was going. I let Kirk know it was OK by moving my hand from his buttock and more into his crotch, and I held my breath as I used my middle finger to lightly press against the area where I thought the backside of my buddy's testicles might be.
I felt a warm rush of blood to my brain at the moment that Kirk's hand found the top of my erection, pressing through my jeans. He used his thumb and firs two fingers to take stock, to assess the size and shape to the best of his ability through the blue denim. Had he had his hand on my naked penis, and had he looked down as he pressed, he would've seen precum ooze out of my pee slit and onto his hand. As it was, my fluid was being soaked up by my boxers.
And then -- fuck! -- the creaking stairs. Christ! Kirk lifted himself from me and stole a glance at my eyes before surveying his own crotch and scrambling for the pillow that would serve as his proverbial closet. I had my closet. Jay's practice jersey.
"Kirk?"
"Yeah, mom?"
"Your brother needs some help in the barn, with one of the cows."
"OK. In just a minute."
"He says it's pretty important. I think she's giving birth, the pregnant one."
"Oh, wow. Yeah, OK, he'll need me."
Kirk turned back to me.
"Stu, um. I don't know --"
"Kirk. Shh."
"If you wanna stay, this'll take an hour or so. We can, I can --"
My eyes floated away from Kirk and toward something I had never seen before on his basement wall.
A cross.
The sight left me deflated, in more ways than one.
* * *
I don't really remember how I got out of Kirk's basement and into my Toyota Tercel. What I do remember is starting the car, opening my jeans, and masturbating as I drove down my best friend's long driveway, the end of which, I knew, was the place where Kirk had blown his cum into my ex-girlfriend for the first time. I massaged the slit of my penis and felt the precum ooze and at that point wanted more than anything in the world for Kirk to be feeling me, but in a place where a cross was not hanging on the wall.
And then, at the end of the driveway, I saw some headlights came on. Shit! I stopped my manual stimulation and put the manual transmission in neutral so I could zip up and finished just as the Tercel was about to run off the road.
When I got to the end of the driveway and in a place where my Tercel's headlights could illuminate the body of the other vehicle, I recognized it immediately.
I could not believe it.
It was Jessica's.
I was horny.
And minutes later, I was to discover that she was, too.
- Joined
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I am so glad to see you are back writing. You certainly haven't lost your touch. If anything the feelings are deeper. More complex. And certainly arousing. The complexities of desires, needs, fears and confusion that you create are amazingly vivid. Thanks so much!
I wanted Kirk and Stu to make love. I guess I will have to wait. Great writing!
Dear SFCFML,
Wow. It's been a long time, and I know you've been through a lot in the past few months, but your story is as powerful as ever, maybe moreso, because now we're talking life/death of best friends' parents, and past loves/infatuations, and "forbidden" desires coming to light.
Intimacy can be a great cathartic when someone is hurting so much.
Kirk is at a very tender, fragile stage.
I suspect Jessica decided it was time to be sexually active, and she missed her preferred piece of cock, so she decided to go after his best friend, instead.
And that turned out predictably poorly.
Now, she was sitting at the end of the drive, waiting for Stu. It had to be that she knew he was coming home for Kirk at the bad news about Kirk's mom, and decided to go for the gusto.
Whether that was because she still had feelings for Stu, or was her way of getting back at Kirk, only you, as author, know.
This is tragic. Two young boys/men losing their parents at such tender ages.
Losing college to come home and take care of the family and farm as the Man of the house.
That's more burden than someone Kirk's age should have to bear. Unfortunately, it happens all too frequently.
Thank you for finding the time in your crazy life to revisit BFF Comes True and sharing it with us.
Take care.
Wow. It's been a long time, and I know you've been through a lot in the past few months, but your story is as powerful as ever, maybe moreso, because now we're talking life/death of best friends' parents, and past loves/infatuations, and "forbidden" desires coming to light.
Intimacy can be a great cathartic when someone is hurting so much.
Kirk is at a very tender, fragile stage.
I suspect Jessica decided it was time to be sexually active, and she missed her preferred piece of cock, so she decided to go after his best friend, instead.
And that turned out predictably poorly.
Now, she was sitting at the end of the drive, waiting for Stu. It had to be that she knew he was coming home for Kirk at the bad news about Kirk's mom, and decided to go for the gusto.
Whether that was because she still had feelings for Stu, or was her way of getting back at Kirk, only you, as author, know.
This is tragic. Two young boys/men losing their parents at such tender ages.
Losing college to come home and take care of the family and farm as the Man of the house.
That's more burden than someone Kirk's age should have to bear. Unfortunately, it happens all too frequently.
Thank you for finding the time in your crazy life to revisit BFF Comes True and sharing it with us.
Take care.
. Great chapter.
sfcfml
On the Prowl
Part 41
The car, actually, belonged to Jessica's parents, but I knew it in an instant. Her father was the car dealer in town, and Jessica always had one -- a hand-me-down of a sort, in this instance a Buick Century with only about 65,000 miles on it.
My recognition of the car was confirmed by the sight of a slender young woman with long, brown hair and a long olive face to match. She was dressed in skin-tight jeans and a dark pink v-neck sweater and climbed from the Century without a coat on.
Through the windshield, I swear I could smell her perfume. Still, in the cold rain, Jessica looked miserable. For a split second, I thought about running her over. But then she smiled, and remembered her perfume, and (fuck!) saw those lips, lips that once had been on mine, and more recently, on Kirk's dick.
Jee-sus!
As I rolled down the window of my Tercel, I thought about how Jessica's slender hand had been the first to touch my naked penis. So she knew what I felt like. My size. She also knew what Kirk felt like. His size. She most likely had tasted him -- the muskiness of his penis and balls, after he had endured a long summertime drive to see her in college. She likely had tasted the bitter sweetness of his jizz as he blasted it into her mouth. Certainly it was bitter and yet sweet, like mine. Or was it?
That is what was going through my mind when I put my foot on the brake, the manual tranny in neutral, the parking brake handle up, and the window down.
"Jessica. Wow. What are you, um, doing here?"
"Well, Stu, it's nice to see you too."
"OK, it's nice to see you, Jess. But what in the hell are you doing here, at the end of Kirk's driveway, with the lights out?"
"He said you'd be here. I wanted to see you."
"You still talk, you and him?"
"So you know we were dating, and broke up?"
"Well, duh."
"Well, no, we don't talk. Not really. But I called him earlier today, to see how he was doing, and he said he had to go, because you were coming. I asked what time, and he told me before hanging up. And it was still hours away, so I knew."
"Knew what?"
"That he's blowing me off. When he needs me the most. When his mom's dying."
"What makes you say that?"
"Stu, you've known Kirk a long time. But he and I, well, we had something good going on. I was getting into him."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Into his head. Stu, he's at a vulnerable stage. He's a very sensitive guy."
"You don't have to tell me that. I've known him for years. Longer than you. I'm sure I know things about him you have no idea about."
"I doubt it. Like what?"
I wanted to tell her that 10 minutes ago Kirk had been grinding his erection into my leg, but I restrained myself.
"I don't know. Stuff he, uh ... Stuff that happened when we were little, in junior high, when we --"
"I can't imagine you and Kirk experienced anything more intense than what we experienced these past few months."
"You might be surprised, Jessica."
I fixated again on my ex's lips. They still were beautiful, even if the words coming out of them were not. I felt my cock stir and imagined Jessica's lips around my erection. Then I thought back to how Jessica had experienced me intimately, just a little bit at least. How she had touched the most intimate part of my body. But how only God knew about the most intimate parts of my brain, the gay parts, parts of which God did not approve.
So I forced myself to think about when Jessica and I were both 15, and how she had placed her fingers at the waistband of my jeans. I thought about how my whole chest seemed to fill with blood and air upon realizing that this time, for the first time, the next stop for her fingers was not to the thigh of my jeans but instead just a little bit underneath the waistband and to the top of my white briefs.
It felt so right, at the time. God and Jesus and everybody seemed to be smiling.
There at the end of the driveway, with Jessica peering into the open window of my Tercel, I recalled how I had responded to Jessica by lifting the elastic of my underwear away from my 15-year-old waist perhaps a half-inch. Jessica had accepted the invitation and, naturally, found my tip first. The girl seemed bewildered by my pee slit and what to do with it, so she moved her first two fingers to the underside of my erection and pressed very lightly to get a feel, get her bearings, before sliding her fingers down to the midpoint of my erection.
There at the end of the driveway, I recalled how four years earlier Jessica had cupped my erection's head with caution, as if her hand was hovering over a candle's flame. I had frozen, more or less. I neither rocked my hips into her hand nor suggested she move it away. She pressed her fingers lightly into the sides of my erection, exploring each inch, confirming there were about five but not six, and freezing there as if wondering what to do next.
All those years ago, the realization that Jessica was about to touch my balls is what got me right to the edge. I had loved Jessica, to the degree a 15-year-old can love a girl his age at least. What love meant to me at the time was that I didn't want her to go away.
That's why I moved her hand from my pants. I did not want to scare her with what would come next, the slimy substance that I, at 15, was still getting to know, and unfortunately to hate. It was a substance that, regrettably, under the glare of a brooding God, I had learned to distaste whenever I spewed it out while thinking about balls in the gym showers instead of boobs in the alto section.
But what only God knew is that Kirk -- her boyfriend, my best friend -- had been the main subject of my guilty desires. Jessica had no way to know that I had thought about what Kirk did under his covers in the farmhouse, and how the thought of him pleasuring himself made me rock hard faster than if I thought about her or other girls.
What only God knew is that while guys made me hard, girls made me cum. From the time I was 13, I had found that I'd cum harder and shoot farther if I imagined having sex with a girl at that point of no return. I had taken that as a sign from God, that God was sending me a message that cumming inside a female is what He intended for me to do, and that the devil lurked not only in the gym showers but also in my brain.
So I imagined cumming inside of girls, because I could. I imagined cumming inside of girls because that way I could keep God happy. Girls were hottt! Or hot enough. And I was straightttt!. Or straight enough. And I loved their tits. I wanted to cum all over them. Pretty much all of them. OK, most of them.
But as for the high school quarterback, I would not have minded watching him cum all over a cheerleader's tits. In fact, THAT might have been --
"Stu, I'm here because I, ah -- Stu, are you listening to me?"
"Yeah, uh ..."
I turned the car off and drew Jay's baseball jersey close.
"Stu, get out of the car. Let's get in mine, talk awhile. My car's got a better heater than yours."
I put the tip of my tongue on the roof of my mouth and glanced down at Jessica's tits, illuminated slightly by my headlights. They looked larger than they had in high school. Even more intriguing. I wondered whether Kirk had rubbed his throbbing erection between her boobs and whether he had cum right on top of them, right between them. Or instead whether he fed his dick into her willing and quite frankly beautiful mouth. I wondered how the beginnings of a blowjob went for her, for them -- whether she encircled Kirk's erection as soon as possible, or whether she teased it with her tongue before finally giving him what he wanted. I wondered how much of Kirk that Jessica could take -- whether it was possible for her to take him all in, or whether he was just too big.
How big was Kirk exactly? Jessica knew.
So I shut down the headlights, opened the door, and closed it quietly so the occupants of the farmhouse could not hear. Then I scampered into the passenger side of Jessica's familiar Buick Century. It smelled like Fruit Roll-Ups and Diet Coke, as it always had. Jessica smelled like, well, Jessica. We made chit-chat about Kirk and then about me, but only for perhaps two minutes. Then, Jessica curled her body toward me, put her torso on top of mine, and slid her tongue between my lips and then down my throat. I returned the kiss and encircled her torso with my arms, feeling her bra strap and the muscles of her back that even at 15 had turned me on.
I liked muscles. Even on a girl. Particularly on a girl.
Jessica's mouth tasted the same, just as in high school. But this was all different, knowing that Kirk's cock had been in the mouth that was in mine. And something about Jessica's scent was different.
I untucked her t-shirt from the waistband of her jeans and ran my hands across her naked back until finding her bra strap, which I remembered how to undo. The garment fell toward her waistline as I caressed my ex's naked shoulders and then moved my hands to cup what they needed to feel. My God, she felt soft.
Jessica moaned as my palms dug into her erect nipples. My erection, meanwhile, dug into my jeans.
"God, Stu, I've missed you. I've missed this. Your hands there. Right there. Kirk never -- Yessss!"
I moved my hands to the sides of Jessica's sweater and lifted it toward her armpits so my lips could go where my hands had been. Jessica sighed and moaned as I tongued her left breast and then her right. She smelled like sweat. Girl sweat, but sweat nonetheless. Sort of like Jay's sweat, yet different. And different, at that moment, at the end of Kirk's driveway, was good. Very good. God liked different.
Jessica responded by giving me a lap dance of sorts before peeling her body away from mine and toying with the top of my jeans. Then she pressed her right palm into my erection to confirm I was hard. Jesus, was I. But what she had no way of knowing is that I had been at least that hard perhaps 15 minutes earlier, in Kirk's basement, as her ex pressed his erection into my thigh.
I unbuttoned my jeans and she sighed upon realizing what was happening, what I was doing. She kissed my neck before whispering in my ear whether I "had protection."
"Shit. No. Damn."
Jessica shrugged, put her thumbs on either side of my jeans, and began wriggling them toward my knees. Fuck, it was hot! She was hot! I helped her a little before getting further instruction from Jessica.
"Go sideways?"
"Huh?"
"Put your back against the door. It works for Kirk. I suppose you didn't want to hear that."
Actually, of course, I did.
Within seconds, I had turned 90 degrees and my pants were at my knees. Jessica turned on the dome light to -- she said -- "get them the rest of the way off." But I could tell what she wanted. Me. To see me. My erection. Size me up. She had felt me when we were 15, but she had never seen it, or REALLY touched it.
There in Jessica's Buick Century, there was no question that she wanted to see all of me. Feel all of me. Taste all of me. All of Stu.
I kicked off my tennis shoes so Jessica could take my jeans and my boxers all the way off. Then she drew up her sweater, and played with her tits as I sat mesmerized by the realization of what was about to happen.
"You look hot, Stu."
"So do you."
"You like these, my boobs, don't you Stu?"
"Yeah, Jess."
"I know. You always did. Kirk, he just ignored them. But not you."
"Fuckin'-A, Jess."
"Pull up your shirt, and that weird jersey. It's just in the way."
I complied, and before I knew it Jessica's naked tits were on my hairless 19-year-old chest. She ground her breasts into mine, sighing and rocking, clearly hot for me and for herself. Then she scooted back and began tonguing my breasts sort of how I had tongued hers. It was the same, yet different. When she pulled away, I saw that my penis had deposited a load of precum on her tummy.
Jessica kissed my chest lightly, and then my abs, and then it became clear what was about to happen.
"Oh my God Jessica!"
I laid down a little bit more, spread my legs, and pointed my knees toward the dome light. She touched me under my scrotum, tickled me really. My body jerked.
"So you like that too, huh?"
"Fuck!"
"Guess you and Kirk have that in common."
I almost shot my wad at the thought of Kirk in this position, having his scrotum and dangling balls touched in that way, by this very girl, this very woman. But I contained myself as Jessica lightly squeezed my balls -- first together, then separately, stopping on my left.
"Huh."
"What?"
"You're different there."
"Wha-?"
"This one. It's, um, bigger."
"Than what?"
"Than your buddy's. His left."
"Oh my God, Jess--"
"Kirk's other one, it's, um --"
"Jesus Christ, Jess!"
"Let's try it with this."
Jessica licked the underside of my left ball, and then the right.
"Mmmmmm, Stu."
Jessica chuckled and I began jerking myself. But my ex made me stop.
"No, no, no. That's for me to take care of, Stu."
"Jee-zuz .. CHRIST!!"
"We're not 15 anymore."
"Ugh ..."
"You're not in your bedroom, just thinking about me. I'm ... here!"
"Ah, I --"
"Mmmm. Stuie. You ... smell ... GOOD."
"Like Kirk?"
"Pretty much? Why?"
"Fuck! I don't know!"
"Well, let's see how you ..."
And then, I watched my ex place the tip of her tongue on the base of my erection. I wanted to watch, but I knew that if I did, I'd blow my semen way too soon.
The feeling of having my ex's tongue run up the underside of my throbbing erection was pretty much indescribable, particularly since I knew for a fact that she had done the exact same thing to my best friend -- the friend over whom I had lusted since we were in seventh grade, the friend whose erection had pressed into my thigh perhaps 20 minutes earlier. At that point in time, God seemed very, very far away.
I opened my eyes just as Jessica had reached the top of my erection and then brushed her long, brown hair out of the way so I could see what was going to happen. My ex puckered her lips as if she was going to kiss the tip. But instead, she uttered just one word through her puckered lips to complete the sentence she had begun.
The first "T" in the word had been uttered with Jessica' lips perhaps a half-inch from my hard-on and her tongue in her mouth. The second "T" came with her teeth over the throbbing head of my dick and her tongue coming in contact with my swollen dick head as if it was the roof of her beautiful mouth.
The word was "taste."
The second T stung like it came from a sex-starved wasp. I ejaculated -- not semen, but breath. My body shuddered and my ex giggled upon realizing that she was completely in control of me and my privates. I felt her tongue on the top side of erection and her teeth on the bottom side. Fuck, it was hot. She was hot. It all was hot. Kirk, Jessica, Jay, Rebecca, Rudolf, Dana. All fucking all of it!! Everybody was HOTT!!
I did all I could do -- I started bucking my hips into her face, so I could help bring pleasure to my penis in a way that I wanted it and needed it to be pleasured. Jessica climbed on top of me even more to accommodate my erection, pretty much all of it, and then moved her head so she could take every last inch of it in. I could feel her sighs of pleasure through her nostrils on my pubes. she held my dick right there, the whole damn thing, for a second or two, and then bit me at the base to let me know she was in charge.
I thrust my head toward the left armpit of Jay's practice jersey and thought I smelled some scent of the Freshmen baseball player as Jessica began moving her head in tandem with my thrusts.
"Oh, FUCK, Jess! ..."
She knew I was getting close, and the fact that she knew I was getting close brought me even closer. Even in my state of utter bliss, I could realize that it was Kirk on whom Jessica had learned to know how and when a guy was getting close. Kirk, whose very dick had been in this very mouth! Kirk, whose balls got massaged like mine were getting massaged at that very moment. Kirk, whose cum had blasted onto and into this girl, this woman, with explosive force.
Jessica took her mouth from my penis, brushed her hair away, and said she had "never been able to do that before."
"What? I thought you and Kirk--"
"I mean, haven't been able to do THAT, take the whole thing."
"Because, um, Kirk is, what? --"
"You're just the, um, right size, to, um --"
"Oh my God!"
"... Take all of it. It all in."
"So is Kirk, ah, a lot bigger?"
Jessica answered my question by putting my whole throbbing penis back in her mouth. It went in easier this time. I thrust my dick into her mouth perhaps a half-dozen times. Then she dug her fingernails into my shoulders at exactly the right time. The pain made the pleasure more intense as I blasted an almost disgusting volume of semen well into her throat. After the second shot, Jessica dug her teeth into my erection again -- perhaps to hold on, perhaps to let me know she still was in charge. She pulled away a little bit to let the next several shots fill her mouth. The last of my spasms took place with Jessica's lips around the tip of my dick. She seemingly had not spilled a drop.
I bit my teeth into Jay's practice jersey, recalling how I had watched the shortstop blast his semen on the sexy garment. Then I wondered whether Jessica had swallowed. Two seconds later, she kissed me and I tasted the answer.
"Mmmm" is all I said.
My ex pulled away to ask whether I liked that, what she had just done.
"Mmmm."
Then Jessica wiped some of my jizz from the side of my mouth.
"Well, Stu, your buddy ..."
Jessica kissed me again, lightly, on the lips. A trail of my semen streamed behind. I imagined it was Kirk's.
"... You and he, mmmm, you're sorta alike."
After another kiss, I asked my ex if she was talking "our taste."
"Basically, in a way."
Another kiss. I know I smelled perfume, and I thought I smelled Jay.
"But he always liked it when I did this, too."
"Who?"
"Kirk, silly."
Jessica spit the remnants of my cum into my mouth.
"When I gave him a little taste of himself."
Jessica giggled as she tweaked my chin.
"Well, not little, Stuie. You know what I mean."
The car, actually, belonged to Jessica's parents, but I knew it in an instant. Her father was the car dealer in town, and Jessica always had one -- a hand-me-down of a sort, in this instance a Buick Century with only about 65,000 miles on it.
My recognition of the car was confirmed by the sight of a slender young woman with long, brown hair and a long olive face to match. She was dressed in skin-tight jeans and a dark pink v-neck sweater and climbed from the Century without a coat on.
Through the windshield, I swear I could smell her perfume. Still, in the cold rain, Jessica looked miserable. For a split second, I thought about running her over. But then she smiled, and remembered her perfume, and (fuck!) saw those lips, lips that once had been on mine, and more recently, on Kirk's dick.
Jee-sus!
As I rolled down the window of my Tercel, I thought about how Jessica's slender hand had been the first to touch my naked penis. So she knew what I felt like. My size. She also knew what Kirk felt like. His size. She most likely had tasted him -- the muskiness of his penis and balls, after he had endured a long summertime drive to see her in college. She likely had tasted the bitter sweetness of his jizz as he blasted it into her mouth. Certainly it was bitter and yet sweet, like mine. Or was it?
That is what was going through my mind when I put my foot on the brake, the manual tranny in neutral, the parking brake handle up, and the window down.
"Jessica. Wow. What are you, um, doing here?"
"Well, Stu, it's nice to see you too."
"OK, it's nice to see you, Jess. But what in the hell are you doing here, at the end of Kirk's driveway, with the lights out?"
"He said you'd be here. I wanted to see you."
"You still talk, you and him?"
"So you know we were dating, and broke up?"
"Well, duh."
"Well, no, we don't talk. Not really. But I called him earlier today, to see how he was doing, and he said he had to go, because you were coming. I asked what time, and he told me before hanging up. And it was still hours away, so I knew."
"Knew what?"
"That he's blowing me off. When he needs me the most. When his mom's dying."
"What makes you say that?"
"Stu, you've known Kirk a long time. But he and I, well, we had something good going on. I was getting into him."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Into his head. Stu, he's at a vulnerable stage. He's a very sensitive guy."
"You don't have to tell me that. I've known him for years. Longer than you. I'm sure I know things about him you have no idea about."
"I doubt it. Like what?"
I wanted to tell her that 10 minutes ago Kirk had been grinding his erection into my leg, but I restrained myself.
"I don't know. Stuff he, uh ... Stuff that happened when we were little, in junior high, when we --"
"I can't imagine you and Kirk experienced anything more intense than what we experienced these past few months."
"You might be surprised, Jessica."
I fixated again on my ex's lips. They still were beautiful, even if the words coming out of them were not. I felt my cock stir and imagined Jessica's lips around my erection. Then I thought back to how Jessica had experienced me intimately, just a little bit at least. How she had touched the most intimate part of my body. But how only God knew about the most intimate parts of my brain, the gay parts, parts of which God did not approve.
So I forced myself to think about when Jessica and I were both 15, and how she had placed her fingers at the waistband of my jeans. I thought about how my whole chest seemed to fill with blood and air upon realizing that this time, for the first time, the next stop for her fingers was not to the thigh of my jeans but instead just a little bit underneath the waistband and to the top of my white briefs.
It felt so right, at the time. God and Jesus and everybody seemed to be smiling.
There at the end of the driveway, with Jessica peering into the open window of my Tercel, I recalled how I had responded to Jessica by lifting the elastic of my underwear away from my 15-year-old waist perhaps a half-inch. Jessica had accepted the invitation and, naturally, found my tip first. The girl seemed bewildered by my pee slit and what to do with it, so she moved her first two fingers to the underside of my erection and pressed very lightly to get a feel, get her bearings, before sliding her fingers down to the midpoint of my erection.
There at the end of the driveway, I recalled how four years earlier Jessica had cupped my erection's head with caution, as if her hand was hovering over a candle's flame. I had frozen, more or less. I neither rocked my hips into her hand nor suggested she move it away. She pressed her fingers lightly into the sides of my erection, exploring each inch, confirming there were about five but not six, and freezing there as if wondering what to do next.
All those years ago, the realization that Jessica was about to touch my balls is what got me right to the edge. I had loved Jessica, to the degree a 15-year-old can love a girl his age at least. What love meant to me at the time was that I didn't want her to go away.
That's why I moved her hand from my pants. I did not want to scare her with what would come next, the slimy substance that I, at 15, was still getting to know, and unfortunately to hate. It was a substance that, regrettably, under the glare of a brooding God, I had learned to distaste whenever I spewed it out while thinking about balls in the gym showers instead of boobs in the alto section.
But what only God knew is that Kirk -- her boyfriend, my best friend -- had been the main subject of my guilty desires. Jessica had no way to know that I had thought about what Kirk did under his covers in the farmhouse, and how the thought of him pleasuring himself made me rock hard faster than if I thought about her or other girls.
What only God knew is that while guys made me hard, girls made me cum. From the time I was 13, I had found that I'd cum harder and shoot farther if I imagined having sex with a girl at that point of no return. I had taken that as a sign from God, that God was sending me a message that cumming inside a female is what He intended for me to do, and that the devil lurked not only in the gym showers but also in my brain.
So I imagined cumming inside of girls, because I could. I imagined cumming inside of girls because that way I could keep God happy. Girls were hottt! Or hot enough. And I was straightttt!. Or straight enough. And I loved their tits. I wanted to cum all over them. Pretty much all of them. OK, most of them.
But as for the high school quarterback, I would not have minded watching him cum all over a cheerleader's tits. In fact, THAT might have been --
"Stu, I'm here because I, ah -- Stu, are you listening to me?"
"Yeah, uh ..."
I turned the car off and drew Jay's baseball jersey close.
"Stu, get out of the car. Let's get in mine, talk awhile. My car's got a better heater than yours."
I put the tip of my tongue on the roof of my mouth and glanced down at Jessica's tits, illuminated slightly by my headlights. They looked larger than they had in high school. Even more intriguing. I wondered whether Kirk had rubbed his throbbing erection between her boobs and whether he had cum right on top of them, right between them. Or instead whether he fed his dick into her willing and quite frankly beautiful mouth. I wondered how the beginnings of a blowjob went for her, for them -- whether she encircled Kirk's erection as soon as possible, or whether she teased it with her tongue before finally giving him what he wanted. I wondered how much of Kirk that Jessica could take -- whether it was possible for her to take him all in, or whether he was just too big.
How big was Kirk exactly? Jessica knew.
So I shut down the headlights, opened the door, and closed it quietly so the occupants of the farmhouse could not hear. Then I scampered into the passenger side of Jessica's familiar Buick Century. It smelled like Fruit Roll-Ups and Diet Coke, as it always had. Jessica smelled like, well, Jessica. We made chit-chat about Kirk and then about me, but only for perhaps two minutes. Then, Jessica curled her body toward me, put her torso on top of mine, and slid her tongue between my lips and then down my throat. I returned the kiss and encircled her torso with my arms, feeling her bra strap and the muscles of her back that even at 15 had turned me on.
I liked muscles. Even on a girl. Particularly on a girl.
Jessica's mouth tasted the same, just as in high school. But this was all different, knowing that Kirk's cock had been in the mouth that was in mine. And something about Jessica's scent was different.
I untucked her t-shirt from the waistband of her jeans and ran my hands across her naked back until finding her bra strap, which I remembered how to undo. The garment fell toward her waistline as I caressed my ex's naked shoulders and then moved my hands to cup what they needed to feel. My God, she felt soft.
Jessica moaned as my palms dug into her erect nipples. My erection, meanwhile, dug into my jeans.
"God, Stu, I've missed you. I've missed this. Your hands there. Right there. Kirk never -- Yessss!"
I moved my hands to the sides of Jessica's sweater and lifted it toward her armpits so my lips could go where my hands had been. Jessica sighed and moaned as I tongued her left breast and then her right. She smelled like sweat. Girl sweat, but sweat nonetheless. Sort of like Jay's sweat, yet different. And different, at that moment, at the end of Kirk's driveway, was good. Very good. God liked different.
Jessica responded by giving me a lap dance of sorts before peeling her body away from mine and toying with the top of my jeans. Then she pressed her right palm into my erection to confirm I was hard. Jesus, was I. But what she had no way of knowing is that I had been at least that hard perhaps 15 minutes earlier, in Kirk's basement, as her ex pressed his erection into my thigh.
I unbuttoned my jeans and she sighed upon realizing what was happening, what I was doing. She kissed my neck before whispering in my ear whether I "had protection."
"Shit. No. Damn."
Jessica shrugged, put her thumbs on either side of my jeans, and began wriggling them toward my knees. Fuck, it was hot! She was hot! I helped her a little before getting further instruction from Jessica.
"Go sideways?"
"Huh?"
"Put your back against the door. It works for Kirk. I suppose you didn't want to hear that."
Actually, of course, I did.
Within seconds, I had turned 90 degrees and my pants were at my knees. Jessica turned on the dome light to -- she said -- "get them the rest of the way off." But I could tell what she wanted. Me. To see me. My erection. Size me up. She had felt me when we were 15, but she had never seen it, or REALLY touched it.
There in Jessica's Buick Century, there was no question that she wanted to see all of me. Feel all of me. Taste all of me. All of Stu.
I kicked off my tennis shoes so Jessica could take my jeans and my boxers all the way off. Then she drew up her sweater, and played with her tits as I sat mesmerized by the realization of what was about to happen.
"You look hot, Stu."
"So do you."
"You like these, my boobs, don't you Stu?"
"Yeah, Jess."
"I know. You always did. Kirk, he just ignored them. But not you."
"Fuckin'-A, Jess."
"Pull up your shirt, and that weird jersey. It's just in the way."
I complied, and before I knew it Jessica's naked tits were on my hairless 19-year-old chest. She ground her breasts into mine, sighing and rocking, clearly hot for me and for herself. Then she scooted back and began tonguing my breasts sort of how I had tongued hers. It was the same, yet different. When she pulled away, I saw that my penis had deposited a load of precum on her tummy.
Jessica kissed my chest lightly, and then my abs, and then it became clear what was about to happen.
"Oh my God Jessica!"
I laid down a little bit more, spread my legs, and pointed my knees toward the dome light. She touched me under my scrotum, tickled me really. My body jerked.
"So you like that too, huh?"
"Fuck!"
"Guess you and Kirk have that in common."
I almost shot my wad at the thought of Kirk in this position, having his scrotum and dangling balls touched in that way, by this very girl, this very woman. But I contained myself as Jessica lightly squeezed my balls -- first together, then separately, stopping on my left.
"Huh."
"What?"
"You're different there."
"Wha-?"
"This one. It's, um, bigger."
"Than what?"
"Than your buddy's. His left."
"Oh my God, Jess--"
"Kirk's other one, it's, um --"
"Jesus Christ, Jess!"
"Let's try it with this."
Jessica licked the underside of my left ball, and then the right.
"Mmmmmm, Stu."
Jessica chuckled and I began jerking myself. But my ex made me stop.
"No, no, no. That's for me to take care of, Stu."
"Jee-zuz .. CHRIST!!"
"We're not 15 anymore."
"Ugh ..."
"You're not in your bedroom, just thinking about me. I'm ... here!"
"Ah, I --"
"Mmmm. Stuie. You ... smell ... GOOD."
"Like Kirk?"
"Pretty much? Why?"
"Fuck! I don't know!"
"Well, let's see how you ..."
And then, I watched my ex place the tip of her tongue on the base of my erection. I wanted to watch, but I knew that if I did, I'd blow my semen way too soon.
The feeling of having my ex's tongue run up the underside of my throbbing erection was pretty much indescribable, particularly since I knew for a fact that she had done the exact same thing to my best friend -- the friend over whom I had lusted since we were in seventh grade, the friend whose erection had pressed into my thigh perhaps 20 minutes earlier. At that point in time, God seemed very, very far away.
I opened my eyes just as Jessica had reached the top of my erection and then brushed her long, brown hair out of the way so I could see what was going to happen. My ex puckered her lips as if she was going to kiss the tip. But instead, she uttered just one word through her puckered lips to complete the sentence she had begun.
The first "T" in the word had been uttered with Jessica' lips perhaps a half-inch from my hard-on and her tongue in her mouth. The second "T" came with her teeth over the throbbing head of my dick and her tongue coming in contact with my swollen dick head as if it was the roof of her beautiful mouth.
The word was "taste."
The second T stung like it came from a sex-starved wasp. I ejaculated -- not semen, but breath. My body shuddered and my ex giggled upon realizing that she was completely in control of me and my privates. I felt her tongue on the top side of erection and her teeth on the bottom side. Fuck, it was hot. She was hot. It all was hot. Kirk, Jessica, Jay, Rebecca, Rudolf, Dana. All fucking all of it!! Everybody was HOTT!!
I did all I could do -- I started bucking my hips into her face, so I could help bring pleasure to my penis in a way that I wanted it and needed it to be pleasured. Jessica climbed on top of me even more to accommodate my erection, pretty much all of it, and then moved her head so she could take every last inch of it in. I could feel her sighs of pleasure through her nostrils on my pubes. she held my dick right there, the whole damn thing, for a second or two, and then bit me at the base to let me know she was in charge.
I thrust my head toward the left armpit of Jay's practice jersey and thought I smelled some scent of the Freshmen baseball player as Jessica began moving her head in tandem with my thrusts.
"Oh, FUCK, Jess! ..."
She knew I was getting close, and the fact that she knew I was getting close brought me even closer. Even in my state of utter bliss, I could realize that it was Kirk on whom Jessica had learned to know how and when a guy was getting close. Kirk, whose very dick had been in this very mouth! Kirk, whose balls got massaged like mine were getting massaged at that very moment. Kirk, whose cum had blasted onto and into this girl, this woman, with explosive force.
Jessica took her mouth from my penis, brushed her hair away, and said she had "never been able to do that before."
"What? I thought you and Kirk--"
"I mean, haven't been able to do THAT, take the whole thing."
"Because, um, Kirk is, what? --"
"You're just the, um, right size, to, um --"
"Oh my God!"
"... Take all of it. It all in."
"So is Kirk, ah, a lot bigger?"
Jessica answered my question by putting my whole throbbing penis back in her mouth. It went in easier this time. I thrust my dick into her mouth perhaps a half-dozen times. Then she dug her fingernails into my shoulders at exactly the right time. The pain made the pleasure more intense as I blasted an almost disgusting volume of semen well into her throat. After the second shot, Jessica dug her teeth into my erection again -- perhaps to hold on, perhaps to let me know she still was in charge. She pulled away a little bit to let the next several shots fill her mouth. The last of my spasms took place with Jessica's lips around the tip of my dick. She seemingly had not spilled a drop.
I bit my teeth into Jay's practice jersey, recalling how I had watched the shortstop blast his semen on the sexy garment. Then I wondered whether Jessica had swallowed. Two seconds later, she kissed me and I tasted the answer.
"Mmmm" is all I said.
My ex pulled away to ask whether I liked that, what she had just done.
"Mmmm."
Then Jessica wiped some of my jizz from the side of my mouth.
"Well, Stu, your buddy ..."
Jessica kissed me again, lightly, on the lips. A trail of my semen streamed behind. I imagined it was Kirk's.
"... You and he, mmmm, you're sorta alike."
After another kiss, I asked my ex if she was talking "our taste."
"Basically, in a way."
Another kiss. I know I smelled perfume, and I thought I smelled Jay.
"But he always liked it when I did this, too."
"Who?"
"Kirk, silly."
Jessica spit the remnants of my cum into my mouth.
"When I gave him a little taste of himself."
Jessica giggled as she tweaked my chin.
"Well, not little, Stuie. You know what I mean."
- Joined
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An absolutely awesome chapter. Stu's mind so locked in his brief embrace with Kirk, his history of love/lust for Kirk, that he can't truly focus on what sex with Jessica is like, except to compare it to what it must be like with Kirk. The mind twisting going on is as convoluted as my last sentence. But brilliantly executed in your deft style. I love this story. ANd am so glad it's back in full force.
Sear SFCFML,
What a trip down memory lane, AND, it's as though Jessica knows how they really feel about each other, and is feeding Stu enough tantalizing tidbits to make him harder and harder to cum more and more.
She is one Cock hound, isn't she?!
Wow. Oh what a night - Late December back in '63, what a feeling, what a night!
to try and quote from the song.
Do you have the video? lol
Thanks!
What a trip down memory lane, AND, it's as though Jessica knows how they really feel about each other, and is feeding Stu enough tantalizing tidbits to make him harder and harder to cum more and more.
She is one Cock hound, isn't she?!
Wow. Oh what a night - Late December back in '63, what a feeling, what a night!
to try and quote from the song.
Do you have the video? lol
Thanks!
sfcfml
On the Prowl
Heh heh, Don Q, I LOVE that song! The Meatloaf "Dashboard Lights" tune always gets me going too. Such a child of the '70s I am. Thanks for reading, and your comments. I'll answer your PM shortly ...
sfcfml
On the Prowl
Finnster, wow, thanks. Do not fear: Jay will be back. He is a different sort of bi guy than Stu, but has leanings that way for sure, and also is SMOKING hot! Sorry, but baseball players just plain turn ... me ... on. So do women softball players, and volleyball players, but that is another story. Anyway, there is some exploring to do of some other characters too, though I know Jay will be back. One of my hobbies is to go to the health club and look for Jay look-a-likes! Thanks for reading.