"We have reason to believe that man first walked upright to free his hands for masturbation."

Thursday, March 14, 2013

All Male Fiction: Better Than Green Beer

  By: Tommyhawk1 & Ryan Michaels

I got home from classes that Friday before St. Patrick's Day, and walked into a darkened apartment with the television set going. Shit, not again! This meant one of two things. Either Matt was drinking again... or he was thinking about it really hard. By the time you’ve lived with a guy for two years, like I'd been roommates with Matt, and known him for much longer before that, you pretty much have your friend figured out and know how to work things to your best advantage. First thing on my plate was to find out which of those two options it was. Was Matt drinking again... or just feeling really tempted right now?
I felt a little better when I heard him talking on the phone with his AA sponsor. That meant he was fighting it still. I knew he didn’t like me listening in on his talks with the sponsor, so I grabbed some crackers and cheese from the refrigerator and skittered back through to my own room without saying anything.

In my room, I ate my snack, watching “Gilligan’s Island” on my little black-and-white set (bought for me by Matt one time he was drunk and in one of those states that an alcoholic can get into; when they try to make amends for being a lousy friend/comrade/buddy by buying you stuff), and when the show was over, I sneaked a peek into the living room. Matt was off the phone, watching television in the twilight that was the darkness broken only by the light from the TV set (he had drawn all the blinds shut.)
“Hey, Matt,” I said. Matt was sprawled out on the couch wearing only a t-shirt and a pair of boxers. He worked nights and slept days, and likely had just woken up only recently, given the hour of the day that it was then. And ever since his girlfriend left him two months ago, he was getting sloppier and sloppier about housekeeping.

Me, I was pretty much taking care of myself so I could finish out my college year here in this apartment, and then I was to move back in with Mom, and then start next year back in the dorms, maybe... unless Mom was still willing to help out with the rent, like she does now, and Matt got his act together before then. And, he was trying, going to AA meetings and working nights as a busboy at a Denny’s restaurant. And working out a lot, something he did to keep him occupied and his mind off his addiction.
Now he was big and buffed and handsome as hell, the t-shirt was stretched out tight by his massive shoulders and chest, and his stomach was a washboard of rock-hard abs. I’d been working out some, too, the last couple of years, but hadn’t done much more than gotten a little definition. His hair was nearly the color of mine, a sandy brown that was just about three shades too dark to be called blond, and his eyes were a brown only slightly darker than his hair.

Matt was watching the television set intently. On the screen was a commercial - people in a tavern drinking beer and having fun. With it being the Friday before St. Patrick’s Day (which was next Monday), you got a lot of those drinking commercials with people drinking on a drinking holiday... and being watched by a recovering alcoholic still fighting the craving to drink!
“You should turn off the television, Matt.” I recommended.

Matt looked at me, grinned weakly. “I tried. It doesn’t help.”
“It’s just a holiday, Matt,” I said, “And not such a big one after all. More like just an excuse to go out and drink.”

“I know,” Matt said. “That’s enough, Chris. That’s more than enough. An excuse to go out and drink is all I need.”
Well, I hadn’t been to all those Al-Anon family-support meetings for nothing. Be supportive but not enabling. Besides, I was curious about one thing. “Matt?” I said, sitting beside him on the couch. “What’s it like, being drunk? For you, I mean. What exactly do you get from it?”

That had the unexpected benefit of him shutting off the sound on the television to talk to me. “It’s the best feeling in the world,” Matt said, dreamily. “When I’m drinking, I feel all my problems slide away and tuck themselves down into this little tiny place in the back of my brain and it doesn’t bother me at all. All I feel is good, floating there in the big, empty, peaceful place in my mind.”
“Until you stop drinking, and then what happens?”

“I usually drink too much and pass out,” Matt said. “And that gets me through the night and I wake up and I’m sick and hurting and all my problems are right back up in front of my brain. So I reach for the bottle again.”

“You’re staying sober now, though,” I pointed out, hopefully, “Aren’t you?”
Matt smiled. “I sure am. This is my twenty-second day of being sober.” Matt looked back at the television set. A television show set in a bar, “Cheers” was just coming on. Late afternoon was when they reran most of those old shows. “But it’s hard, especially with St. Patrick’s Day coming up. I liked the crowds on St. Patrick’s Day and the green beer they serve at the Dover Cliffs Pub. You can pay twenty dollars and they’ll fill up your mug with green beer as long as you want it, from seven o’clock to midnight.”

“But you’re not going, are you,” I asked.
“I hope not,” Matt said. “I’m going to try hard not to go,” he sighed. “But that feeling... that’s awful hard to resist. And this year, they’re starting the celebrations two days early. So instead of one day, it’s going to be a three-day celebration,” he sighed again, a sound of complete and total longing.

“Couldn’t you find something else to do this weekend,” I pressed him. “I’ve got the next week out of college, spring break, you know. The next nine days I’m all yours.” I’d planned to spend time with my friends, and still would if I could, but for now, Matt needed me. And so I continued, “I can support you, help you not give in to the urge, and if you do give in and go out and drink, Matt, I’m going to know all about it. If that helps you, I mean.”
“It’s just....” His voice faltered, and his eyes were drawn to the television. Damn, another commercial came on, happy people in a bar hoisting beer. Green beer! Just what Matt didn’t need right then! “It’s just that drinking beer makes me feel so good. Nothing else feels that good,” he finished, never taking his eyes off the TV commercial.

At the richly horny age of nineteen, I had an answer to that. “What about sex?”

“Kelly’s gone,” Matt pointed out. “I don’t know any other girls who will put out casually, and as desperate as I’ve been for some sex, I just can’t bring myself to use my only other option right now, paying for a hooker, you know, mainly because, on my salary, I can’t afford to.”

“You could, uh...” I couldn’t bring myself to say it, I made a jerking-off movement.
“Believe me, Chris; I’ve done that, like ever since Kelly left, pretty much every day, at least twice a day actually, regular as sunrise and sunset.

“Really?” I couldn’t help but look at his crotch, and to my delight, his cock was swelling up inside his boxers, opening the flap and giving me a glimpse of bronze-colored shaft on a bed of dark-brown pubic hair.

Matt followed my gaze down, and when he realized his semi-exposure, he reached down and adjusted his shorts to close the gap. “Yeah, I’ve been working it out, but hell, after you’ve had yourself a regular girl for a while, you get pretty damned tired of pumping your dick yourself. It just doesn’t work as well as it used to when I was fifteen or so, and hadn’t had sex before.”
His eyes wandered back to the television set. Yet another damned St. Patrick’s themed drinking commercial. Matt watched those mugs of beer they were lifting to their lips and his tongue came out and he licked his own lips like he was licking off the froth those mugs of beer left behind.

I’m not totally sure why I did what I did next. I mean, I knew my sexual desires were aimed toward men, but hadn’t wanted to dump my being gay on Matt, what with him fighting alcoholism and his romantic problems this last year, and stuff. I had always had a bit of curiosity about Matt’s cock ever since I’d hit puberty but, mostly, I wanted to draw Matt’s attention away from that green beer on the screen!

And so, without really thinking it through first, I just reached over and slid my hand right inside that flap and caught hold of his cock and, between its size and position and still semi-erect state, it popped right out for me.

Matt’s reaction was a sort of gasp. “Wha... Wha... Wha...?” But his eyes quickly went back to the TV at the sound of clanging beer mugs, his eyes and desires focused on the sight of that green beer in those mugs, more than anything else that was going on. His cock surged up and swelled to full tumescence, a steel-hard column of hot male flesh in my hand. The head gleamed in the light from the screen.

And, when the beer commercial ended, Matt was refocused, and his hands came down on my arm, to pull my hand away. I gave his cock a few quick pumps before he could pull my fingers away.
“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Making you feel good, Matt. Making you feel good like you do when you drink.”
“God, Chris, you can’t do that! It’s gay!”

“That’s ok,” I said, “So am I.”
“Wh-what? You are?” I nodded and grinned. “But I’m not, I’m straight, man, you know I am.”

“Yes, I know you are, and this doesn’t make you gay, lots of straight guys jerk off together and give each other handjobs.”
“They do? No, I don’t believe you! You just want to do it because you're a fag! Stop it, Chris, or I’ll fuckin’ kick the shit out of you,” Matt threatened, as he grabbed my arm, and tried to pry it off.

That’s when the “Cheers” show came back on. And it had a scene of people hoisting their beers in a toast and then drinking it down. “Look, Matt, look at the TV,” I said, pointing at it, and his head turned, and Matt was hypnotized by the sight.
And I grabbed his cock again and pumped on it. “Don’t look at that anymore, Matt, don’t look at it,” I said to him. “I can make you feel good without the beer, Matt. I can make you feel good, better than your own hand, like Kelly used to.”

The show had Norm talking to someone, and in front of each was a half-empty mug of beer. Matt’s eyes were focused on that beer in that mug in front of Norm.
And I leaned over and took his cock in my mouth while he was enraptured by the sight. As long as his eyes could feast upon beer, I could do whatever I wanted. In fact, the sight of beer was giving my roommate a pounding erection, like the thought of drinking beer was turning Matt on so much, he couldn’t differentiate between that desire, the desire to drink, and the desire coming from his crotch.

I caught sight of the remote control, over on the arm of the couch on Matt’s other side, and reached up and killed the television set. Now the only light was what came from the glow of the clock on the cable box, and that which filtered through the closed vertical blinds on the living room window. Which wasn’t much; it was a cloudy, overcast day.
And Matt didn’t move, even when I resumed sucking on his cock after killing the image. His prick was as hard as ever. I kept sucking and then I heard the first sound from Matt since I’d started blowing him…a long, low moan, “Mmmmmm!” and then another, “Uuuuuuuuhh!”

My hand cupped Matt’s balls and fondled the twin globes in their sweaty, hairy sac. I had Matt’s attention, his total attention. I wasn’t losing that for anything. He’d been sober for twenty-two days. I wanted to make it twenty-three days. One day at a time. Today, my roommate needed me to suck his cock! I’d sucked cock before of course, but I’d never had a monster cock like my roommate’s by a long shot! I was doing my best but the cock was so thick, I began choking.
I finally let go, coughing. “Sorry, Matt,” I managed to get out, my apology not for my coughing, but for sucking his cock, as I began to immediately think, when I pulled off, of what I was doing and what that could mean for our friendship.

Matt was grunting himself. “More, suck it some more,” he urged.

“More, Kelly, more,” he said. “This is better than beer, even better than green beer. Oh yeah, a hot blowjob like this will get me through the urge and keep me sober.”
If pretending I was Kelly sucking his cock allowed Matt to let it happen, than I wasn’t gonna complain! And, if he got mad after, I could point out that it was he who asked me to continue. So, I swallowed hard, got my gullet under control, and went back to nursing Matt’s prick. Matt’s hands were roaming over my head, stroking and urging me to keep him going. His cock was hot, so damned hot. And Matt was grunting harder than before, an “uh-uh-uh-uh-uh!” sort of sound.

Then a strangled “n-n-n-n-n-n-n-nh-guh-huh!” and that was all the warning I got before I found my mouth being blasted with Matt’s hot jizz. Matt’s hands held me down tight and forced me to keep sucking even though I was gagging on the hot spunk that flooded my mouth to the brim. And then it was done and Matt was gasping for breath, his death-grip on my head eased and I was able, not to turn loose of his cock, but able to lift up enough to swallow the rest of Matt’s load. I gulped it down, and by that time his cock had deflated enough to let me turn loose of it.
Matt was breathing hard and then opened his eyes and turned his head to look over at me. “I didn’t know you were a queer, Chris.”

“Well, I am.”
“How come you never told me in all the time we’ve known each other?”

“There never seemed to be a good time, but you know now.”
“Yeah,” he sighed, and then sat bolt upright. “Look, I don’t know why I let you do what you just did to me, but I am not a fag, and if you ever tell anyone, I’ll kill you, got it,” Matt said threateningly.

“I would never tell anyone your business, Matt, and I know you are not gay. What happened doesn’t suddenly make you not straight anymore, you can’t change what you are, no more than I can. You were just in a certain place and needed that to happen. You needed the blowjob, that’s all.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Matt replied, sounding a bit calmer. “And, don’t you fucking read anything into this, but that blowjob felt amazing, it was better than Kelly ever gave me, and she knew how to suck dick, believe me. Ah, maybe it just felt extra good because it had been so long and I needed it.”

“Well, all that matters is that it felt good, and gave you what you needed, which, wasn’t beer,” I said. “And, you got me, Matt, all the way through St. Patrick’s Day, if you need that again, especially if doing that will keep you from drinking instead.”
Although I was hoping, I kind of figured what happened would be a once in a lifetime thing between us, but Matt took me by surprise when he stretched his arm over the back of the couch, rested his hand on my shoulder, and said “I’m not making any promises, but I might just take you up on your offer of, um, support, if I think I might take a drink.”

God, those words were music to my ears, and his arm around me felt so good too. Matt had rarely shown me affection in all the years we’d know one another. When he’d done it in the past, it had been awkward sorts of things, you know, like a brief, stiff hug that barely touched our bodies together. Nothing ever like this, and it made me feel, well, for lack of a better word... intoxicated.
This must be what being drunk felt like for Matt! A feeling I wanted and didn’t want to ever let go of, ever!

My own cock was rock solid, stabbing me against my stomach, and Matt noticed it moments later after he had flicked the TV back on. A soft chuckle slipped from his lips. “Looks like you have something that needs taking care of too.”
My eyes lit up as I looked at him. “Really,” I said, excitedly.

“Yeah, don’t tell me you don’t even know that you popped a boner,” He laughed. “Why don’t you take care of it?”
“Oh, yeah, sure, I guess I will,” I said, the hope fading from my eyes, realizing he didn’t mean what I thought he meant.

I began to fumble with my pants. “Not here, man, go do it in your room or something, somewhere private,” Matt said.
“Oh,” I said in a disappointed tone. “I think I’ll go take a shower,” I said a few moments later. “You gonna be alright by yourself for a bit?”

“Don’t worry about me. You know there’s no beer in the house, and I have to leave for work soon anyway, so no chance of me heading out to a bar or anything.” I nodded my agreement and understanding and got up to head to the bathroom to take my shower… and to get off!
My cock was still bone hard by the time I had gotten undressed and stepped into the shower. I let the hot water stream over my head and body for a few minutes, and then began to stroke my rigid meat.

My eyes were closed and I was just starting to really get into it when Matt called out from within the bathroom. “Hey buddy, just need to wash up and brush my teeth before work, okay?”
Even though we had known each other for years, and were roommates now, Matt and I had never gone into the bathroom when the other was using it, even just showering, but I didn’t really care that he had. “No worries,” I called out from behind the curtain.

With the shower curtain being solid in color, and the only light being on the other side of it, I knew Matt couldn’t see the outline of my body through the curtain. And, with the water running, I knew he wouldn’t be able to hear me stroking my cock, which was good, because there was no way, with the state I was in at that moment, that I could hold off on finishing until he left the room. It wasn’t that I cared if he knew or heard, I just didn’t want him to possibly feel awkward, or perhaps think I was doing it on purpose, trying to come on to him to get some more action from him, you know.
So, as Matt got ready for work at the sink, my hand caught my erection again. I began to give it long, loving strokes and after a few minutes of this, I unintentionally let out a quiet moan. My hand froze in place on my cock and my eyes shot open, my ears straining to hear if Matt was still in the room, or if he had heard. He was and he did, as I heard quiet laughter.

“Feel good, man,” he asked with a chuckle.
“Uh, yeah, sorry I thought you had left,” I said, trying to cover up for my unintentional moan.

“Don’t worry about it, man. I saw that boner and pretty much figured you’d be taking care of things in there. Sucks that I get a blowjob and you just have to settle for beating your meat,” he laughed. “Yeah, I feel bad that I can’t return the favor, if I was, like you, you know I would though, you know that right?”
“Yeah,” I almost panted. Listening to the words he was speaking got me stroking pretty fast and hard.

He laughed, “Yeah I bet you’d love a hot blowjob from me right about now, huh?” More laughter. “Yeah, now that I know you are gay, I bet you’ve jerked off lots of times thinking about me... sucking my dick, me sucking yours. You’d like that wouldn’t you, me, your straight friend and roommate, sucking your…”     
I moaned and hunched upwards before he could finish his sentence. “Oh, fuck, oh, oh, oh, UH-HUH-UH-HUH-HNNNNNH,” I moaned and my wads shot out, hitting the shower wall and the bottom of the tub.

Finished, I panted heavily, and heard Matt laughing again. “Yeah, I knew that would do it for you. I felt bad that because I’m not like you, you know, a fag, I couldn’t help you out in the same way you helped me, and that all you got to do was jerk yourself off, so I figured talking about what you’d like me to do to you would be a good way to reciprocate without me having to actually return the favor in a literal way.”
“Uh, well, thanks, it did help,” I said breathlessly.

“Cool, man, and remember, not a word to anyone about what happened in the living room earlier.”
“My lips are sealed,” I replied.

“Good, better be! Anyway, I’m off to work now.”

“Hey, Matt,” I called out.
“Yeah,” he answered.

“Are we cool, you know after what happened?”
“Yeah, man, just one of those things, you know, and we’ll never talk about it again, and we’ll be fine. See you tomorrow when I get up, I guess.”

I was vaguely aware of answering Matt with an ‘uh-huh’ and then him leaving, but at that moment my entire body was still consumed with the aftermath of one of the most intense and best orgasms I’d ever had. A few minutes later I came back down to earth and continued on with my shower.
I ended up jerking off a couple of more times before the night was through, once on the couch, right where I had blown Matt, and once in my bed just before going to sleep. Both times I was reliving sucking Matt’s cock and remembering how his cum felt as it shot in my mouth and how it had tasted.

The next day, Saturday, was pretty uneventful, as Matt slept, and I went about my day running errands and doing chores around the apartment. That night, however, things got a whole lot more interesting, more interesting than I could have ever imagined.

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