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

Wednesday, July 30, 2014

All Male Fiction: Nocturnal Emissions

By: Ryan Michaels
ryanxxx@hotmail.com
 
 
 
Mark and I had been friends since we were eleven years old. He was, and still is, my best friend. As a kid, I probably spent more time at his house than I did my own, so when we got older, and I realized that I was bisexual, I had no problem telling him. He, as I expected, didn't care. He never treated me any differently, except that while it was perfectly ok for him to talk about sex he had with women, and for me to talk about sex I had with women, he didn't want to hear about any sex I had with other men. At first I didn't think that was fair. I mean, if you can't be yourself around your best friend, then are they really your friend? But then, when I thought about it some more, I figured it was a perfectly reasonable request. I mean, he's straight, and if I was straight and he was bisexual, would I want to hear about him sucking cock and fucking guys? Probably not.

Ever since my bisexuality first came to light many years ago, I have never once thought of Mark in a sexual way… not that he wasn't attractive; he was, just not to me, in that way. I mean, I wouldn't say no if he ever asked me to watch porn and jerk off with him, or tag team a pussy (not that he ever would in either case), but as far as me wanting to do things to him, it was just never something I've ever thought about. But, as I'm sure you have figured out, that all changed.

It happened about four months ago, when I went over to Mark's place after he had called and told me that he and his girlfriend had just had a huge fight. The fight was bad enough that she had walked out and gone to her parents, taking their five year old son, Josh, with her, and he wanted his buddy there to get drunk with him and watch some action movies to put her out of his mind, at least for the night.

When I got there, instead of being depressed or grumpy, he was all smiles. This, no doubt, was due to the amount of beer he had already consumed, evident by all the empty cans on the coffee table. I had a lot of catching up to do and he was thinking the exact same thing, as he handed me a beer at the door and said just that.

As we sat down on the couch, I asked about the fight right away but he said he didn't want to talk about it. He said he wanted to watch movies, guy movies, and get wasted. He then put on Die Hard, not a recent movie, but one of his all-time favorites.

When the movie ended, he was well wasted and I was right around the corner from being there myself. Rather than putting another movie on, things took a weird turn as he turned off the TV, looked right at me and said, "Fuck, I'm so horny!"


Normally I would say something like, "You're always fucking horny," but he was drunk and I was tipsy, and he had turned sideways on the couch and was staring at me intently. "Uh, ok… what the hell are you telling me for?" I asked looking at him strangely.

"Hey, I'm just talking, ok? You're my best friend. Can't a guy even talk to his best friend about this stuff?"

"Sure, ok," I said still looking at him strangely.

"That's what the fight was about," he slurred.

"About you being horny?" I asked as I cracked open another beer.

"Yeah, I wanted to fuck her and she got mad and stormed out, took Josh with her!"

"She stormed off to her parents with your kid just because you wanted to fuck her? That seems like a bit of an overreaction just because you were horny and wanted sex. What did you do, ask her if you could fuck her in the ass or something?" I laughed as the buzz hit me hard.

"Nah, that's more your department, buddy," he replied, which was an odd response because, as I mentioned, he never, ever talked about me having sex with guys, not even in the sense of cracking jokes about it, not even when drunk.

"So what's the whole story, then?" I asked not acknowledging his comment.

"Well she's at her parents. We were supposed to go there tonight, together, and spend the night, because her mom and dad are taking Josh to some grandparent/grandkid thing tomorrow. And because we fought, she went without me, said she didn't want me there."

"Ok, but where does the sex come into it?"

"Oh, yeah, sorry buddy, I'm a bit wasted."

"Uh-huh," I agreed with a drunken giggle.

"Anyway, the thing was only for the grandparents and the grandkids, but we had to make the trip to get Josh there so they could take him, and hang around to bring him back home after. So I told her, since we would be alone at her parents for half the day, with nothing to do, we should get naked and fuck."

"And that made her mad enough to go without you?"

"No, I think it was when I said we should fuck all over her parent's house, like on their kitchen table, the countertop, their bed, those kinds of places."

"You think?" I laughed. "No wonder she got so pissed at you."

"Dude, you agree with her?"

"That's not what I'm sayin'," I slurred. I was wasted now too. "We're both guys and guys think like that, but I can see why a woman would get mad at a guy for saying something like that. I mean you were talking about her parent's house, doing it in their bed."

"Yeah, I guess so," he said. "You're so lucky to be single."

"Why's that, buddy?"

"Because, at least when you get horny you can just go out and get laid!"

"Yeah, ok," I laughed. "Just because I'm single doesn't mean I can just go out and get a woman to fuck me when I want some. I have to work at it just like you did when you were single, probably like you still have to do with your girlfriend sometimes. The truth is, most times when I try to get laid by a woman, I end up going home to my hand. And that's not just me. Most guys strike out more often than they score and have to use their hand, too. They just don't admit it." I laughed and added, "And I guess I wouldn't be admitting it either, if I wasn't drunk on beer."

Mark didn't laugh at my revelation that I got more action from my hand than I got from women. Instead he replied with, "Yeah, but dude, you do guys too, and guys want sex all the time, so I know you can probably go out to some gay place and get some from a guy whenever you want sex."

"I'll admit it is easier to get no-strings-attached sex from guys, but that doesn't mean that I can get it when I want it. Just like with women, I've come home lots of times after trying to get laid by a guy and still had to use my hand."

I couldn't believe what we were talking about. It was so strange for us, a type of conversation that had never happened between us before, ever, even when we had both been drinking, and what he said next was even more surreal.

"Still, you have more chances and better odds. Man, sometimes I wish I was bi, too."

"No you don't, you're just drunk and horny," I laughed.

"Yeah, but if I were bi, at least I'd have a good shot at getting my cock sucked tonight," he said looking directly at me.

"Ok, well, even if you were bi, I wouldn't be sucking your cock tonight or any other night. Sorry to disappoint you buddy, but I don't have any interest in you in that way."

"Well that's a fuckin' relief. Even if I did go both ways, I wouldn't want you to do that to me either."

I guess it was the booze, but I got defensive at that remark. "Why the hell not?" I said a bit angrily.

"Because you're my buddy, I've known you since we were kids. It would be too weird. Jeez buddy, why are you getting so upset?" he laughed. "You want to, don't you?" he teased.

"Fuck off! I do not!"

"Ryan has the hots for me. He wants to suck my big cock. I bet he'd swallow, too," he sang teasingly.

"Fuck off!" I said slugging him in the arm.

"It's ok, buddy, I don't mind if you have the hots for me. Just as long as you know that you can never have me," he laughed.

"I don't have the hots for you! You're being an asshole! I'm going home!" I said as I stood up, stumbling a bit before I got my balance.

"Buddy, I'm only joking with you. Come on, sit down," he said as he grabbed my arm, which made me lose my balance and caused me to fall back into the seat of the couch. "You're not mad at me too, are you buddy?"

"Only if you really think I have the hots for you!"

"I don't really think that buddy. I know you don't. Come on, let's watch another movie, ok?"

"Ok," I said.

"Hey, it's not like you could have left anyway," he laughed as he wobbled over to put another DVD in.

"Why couldn't I have?" I wanted to know.

"Because you're too drunk to drive," he said.

"True," I laughed.

During the movie, we didn't talk much, except to make comments about the onscreen action, and when it was over, and several more beers later, I was ready to go home.

"I think I'm still a little too drunk to drive. Better call myself a cab," I said fumbling to get my cell phone from my pocket.

"Dude, why don't you just crash on the couch," he suggested. "Saves you the cab fare, and saves me from having to come get you tomorrow to bring you back here to get your car."

"Well, if you're offering, I guess I may as well, since you got the place to yourself."

After getting me a pillow and blanket, Mark went off to bed, and I got myself as comfortable as I could on the couch.

The problem with me when I drink is that I have trouble falling asleep, and as I lay there I couldn't stop going over the weird conversation we'd had earlier. While I still had no desires to be with my best buddy, I couldn't help but think about how, when he said I wanted his cock, he had said it was big, and I found myself wondering just how big his cock was.

Unlike me, Mark was dead to the world when he fell asleep drunk. A bomb couldn't wake him up. I knew this from the many times we had gotten drunk together over the years and crashed at one or the other's place. Blame it on the booze, I do, but about half an hour later I was still wondering how big he was and found myself heading to his bedroom.

Once there, I moved over to the side of his bed. I called his name a few times and even nudged him a couple of times. Like I said, he was drunk and dead to the world. I pulled his blankets back and watched him to make sure he didn't stir. He didn't. Then, with my heart racing, I gently lifted the front of his boxer shorts up and peered inside. His cock was soft and didn't look like anything all that impressive, just an average looking soft cock. In order to see just how big it was I would need to see it hard, but I still had no interest in doing anything with my buddy, so I put the front of his underwear back against his body.

As I was grabbing the blankets to cover him back up, I had an idea. Maybe if I whispered dirty stuff in his ear he'd get hard while he slept. Hey, I was drunk, it sounded like a really good idea at the time. Leaning down near his ear, I started talking about pussy, as if I was a woman and he was fucking her pussy. No reaction below the waist. I started talking about him getting his cock sucked... still nothing. I pulled the blankets up and headed across the room to go back out to the couch.

When I got to his door, though, I stopped. For some reason I just had to know how big he was, or if he really was at all. With the booze fuelling my curiosity, I went back over and pulled the blankets down again. This time when I lifted his shorts, I pulled them down and gently tucked the front of them under his balls. I knew what I had to do to get it hard and reached down and grasped my buddy's cock in my hand. I gently squeezed it and began to slowly stroke it. It felt so weird to be doing that to my best friend. I still wasn't turned on for him at all even as I touched him, just curious as to his size.

His cock began to respond, slowly thickening and lengthening in my loose grasp. I kept gently massaging it and soon it was rock hard in my hand. I could feel it pulsing. I brought his cock down to his stomach and slid my fingers off it, letting it lay against his belly. I took a look at it as it lay displayed for me. He hadn't been lying when he used the word big to describe his cock. It was big in both length and width, probably about eight to eight-and-a-half inches long and six inches around. He was also uncut, something I envied.

What happened next threw me for a loop. My own cock was responding to the sight of his hard meat! If that was the only thing, I wouldn't have been so worried - if you like guys it was only natural for your body to respond to a sight like that, no matter whose body the cock was attached to, platonic friend or not. What worried me was that while I still didn't feel an attraction to my best friend, my drunken body wanted to do nothing more than lean over and suck that large, uncut cock into my mouth... and that's just what it did!

As if a puppet on strings, my body bent in half as my hand grasped his cock and raised it up, and then my mouth enveloped it. Then my mouth began to go at that cock like a starving man shovels down a plate of food! As I worked my buddy's cock, my brain was saying, What the hell are you doing? but my cock was saying, Suck it! Suck it!

It wasn't too long before my buddy made a quiet noise in his sleep and my mouth was being filled with his cum. I could have held it in my mouth and spit it out after, but again it was as if I wasn't controlling my desires, and I began to swallow repeatedly until his cock had stopped spurting and I had every drop in my belly.

After his cock had finished spewing out its load of jizz, I pulled my mouth free, pulled up his underwear, covered him with his blankets and made my way back to the couch. Rather than going over what the hell I had just done, I was smiling and still hard. I took my cock out and jerked it off, cumming after only about thirty seconds, which was extremely quick for me. Satisfied, I soon drifted off to sleep.

The next day, my buddy and I were a bit groggy when we first got up, but after we had each taken a shower and had something to eat we were both feeling ok, no hangovers. He had no clue as to what I had done, and even apologized for acting 'weird' the night before. I of course was feeling really guilty about what I had done and swore I'd never drink with my buddy again when we were alone together.

Of course, a few weeks later we were tossing back the beers together. Nothing happened, though. To be honest, even if he came up to me drunk or sober and said he wanted to try getting sucked by a guy and wanted me to do it, I think I would still say no. Been there, done that. It was weird and, in retrospect, kinda hot, but not something I want to repeat with him, asleep or awake. Like I said, I wasn't attracted to my best friend like that, and I'm still not. I was just drunk... that's not an excuse, just an explanation.




©2010 By Ryan Michaels 

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