A month passes, and the taste of his best friend's cock is all Jon can think about. The hard, silky skin against his tongue and the way it stretched his mouth and throat to the point where he could barely breath. The musky scent of balls, the salty taste of sweat, but it was the bitter, yet somehow addictive taste of Manny's sperm haunted him the most.
He needed more of it, but as time went on it became clear that his best friend had begun to put distance between them. It started with short, curt responses to Jon's texts, with Jon always having to initiate communication. Then came the string of last minute canceled plans to meet up and hang out. Eventually, Manny stopped taking his calls entirely, and by the end of the month, he knew he'd ruined everything.
To make things worse, his life had begun to fall apart at the seams. His numbers at work were slipping and it was only a matter of time before someone in management would notice that one of their top sales reps was no longer performing to expectations. It was just that he couldn't focus at his desk, distracted by thoughts of that beautiful, cock. His nights were full of shuffling in bed, unable to sleep.
By the third week he thought of seeking out someone else to placate his obsession, but the idea of any other cock but Manny's in his mouth repulsed him. He'd been ensnared by one specific cock, and he didn't want anyone else's. So he was miserable, lonely, and hungry in a way that he couldn't satisfy, and he didn't know how long he could keep going.
Coming home from work after a disappointing performance review to find out that the pipes in the building had burst and flooded his apartment was the cherry on top of it all. He scrambled to salvage his belongings but he had nowhere to go. It would take several weeks before the repairs were finished as the water damage was substantial. He couldn't imagine moving back in with his parents who were living in a senior community in a city hours away, and he had no relationships, no girlfriend to fall back on. He hadn't spoken to a woman outside of work in God knows how long. He hadn't realized how much he had let things slip, and so quickly, too.
He sat in his car which was packed with what little of his things he could salvage. He stared at Manny's contact in his phone, sighed and then clicked call. It rang once and then immediately fell to voicemail like he'd expected.
"Manny, I need your help, dude," he said, trying to hide the desperate tremor in my voice. "My apartment's totally wrecked and I need a place to stay. I don't have anyone else, bro." The voicemail service notified him that his message was received. He sat in silence for a few moments, trying to remember if there was a local spot he could spend the night, but before he could start the car he got an incoming call. It was Manny.
Unlike Jon, Manny owned his own house and when he knocked on the door, Manny answered with a neutral expression on his face. It wasn't angry or unkind which Jon had been expecting, but it wasn't brotherly, the way it had been before they’d done what they’d done. In fact, it was as if Manny could barely bring himself to look at Jon directly at all.
They spent dinner in near silence, only bothering to talk about time tables and logistics. How long would it be before the repairs were done? Did Jon need any help replacing anything he'd lost? All the while, the both of them seemed to be maintaining a mutual physical distance between them.
By the end of the night, Jon was settled into bed in the guest room down the hall from the master bedroom. His heart had been drumming in his chest all evening. Shame thrummed through his veins as he'd spent the night hyper aware of Manny's presence, his day's worth of natural, clean body odor, and the hint of an outline in his jeans that Jon couldn't help but peek once or twice while they ate. He didn't sleep that night.
On the first morning they crossed each other's paths on the way to the bathroom. Manny was still half asleep, black curls disheveled, and wearing only a pair of tartan pajama pants and nothing else. His hairy, defined chest covered in thick trail of dark fur leading down to a ridged tent of morning wood. It swayed with heft as he walked down the hall. Jon stood frozen, his throat aching at the sight in front of him. Then suddenly, Manny caught sight of him and seemed to shift to full awareness. He quickly readjusted himself, trying unsuccessfully to hide his stiff cock.
"Excuse me," he said before shuffling past Jon, careful not to make physical contact before closing the bathroom door behind him. Jon retreated back to the guest room and got back into bed. He hid there until Manny left for work. The whole time considering sticking the long, black dildo he'd brought with him as far he could down his throat to ease the want for what he knew could never have again.
Jon worked from home, which meant he would be spending his time alone in the house while Manny went off to his office to work. The first day was torture. He was alone, in his friend's house, with his laundry hamper full of dirty boxers and jocks that would carry his scent. His manly stink that Jon craved like a fucking drug. He’d held out all day, but by lunch time he was standing in the laundry room, his heart bounding in his chest as if he had just unearthed buried treasure and was staring at a pile of glittering gold.
He hesitated, not sure if he wanted to cross this boundary, but then he remembered the jockstrap he'd snagged from the locker room what seemed like years ago. It had lost its scent and its flavor by now, and he'd left it back in his own apartment because it felt wrong to bring it back here. It felt wrong to take it, but he’d wanted it back then the same way he’d wanted this. He needed it. Moving before he was even aware he'd made up his hind, he dug into the basket and pulled out a pair of navy, cotton boxers.
He brought the boxers to his nose and felt the endorphins flood his brain, immediately sending him to the stratosphere. He inhaled the familiar fragrance of ball sweat and musk, nearly purring at the joy it brought him after months of misery. His nose caught the slightest scent of piss trapped in the fly and his reaction surprised him, because he didn't pull away, instead it thrilled him in a new, slightly terrifying way. It was enough to rock him back to earth. He stopped, stuffed the boxers back into the hamper and went back to his desk, adding a new layer of guilt to his burden.
Three days of them avoiding each other. Manny would be gone for work before Jon even woke up. When Manny came home in the evening, Jon was hulled up in the guest room having already cooked or ordered dinner for the both of them, and leaving a plate for Manny in the fridge.
Thursday morning he expected the same, but when he exited the guest room Manny was still in the house and Jon remembered that Thursday's were a late day for him. He made them both breakfast, and to his surprise, Manny actually came into the kitchen and sat at the table, accepting the offering of food.
He ate the pancakes and bacon on his plate with the barest hint of a smile.
"This is good," Manny said, his tone light, almost sounding like he used to.
"Yeah, I know you usually like them charcoal flavored," Jon teased, his voice rough from exhaustion after several nights of little to no sleep. Manny's pancakes were awful, always burnt to shit. Manny chuckled and they both laughed, the mood lightening as they continued to eat with idle chitchat. When they were done, Manny stood, his own plate in hand before reaching over to grab Jon's plate. As he stood Jon's eye-line fell to the crotch of Manny's gray sweatpants and the slight bulge of what must have been lingering morning wood. Unable to pull his eyes away, he couldn't hide it, and he could see realization dawn on Manny's face who flinched away from him. Manny plate dropped down on the table with a jarring clatter.
"Jesus fucking Christ!" Manny yelled.
"Sorry!" was all Jon could say. For a beat, neither of them moved. Manny stood, turned away from him and Jon stared down at the table, trying not to think about the tent in those pants. Then he felt Manny move and he was about to get up and retreat to his room, but then Manny spoke.
"God, dude, you look like shit," Manny said with genuine concern. Jon looked up from the table and saw Manny was really looking at face for the first time since he'd arrived. "Have you been sleeping at all?" Jon shook his head.
"I haven't, not for a long while," he said. "Not since..." He trailed off, but they both knew what he meant.
"Dude, why?" He saw fear flash across Manny's face. "Did I mess you up?" Was that what he thought, that Manny was the one who messed things up? Jon didn't know how to answer that. He was messed up, just not in the way Manny probably thought.
"No, you didn't mess me up. I...I just.." he couldn't bring himself to say it out loud.
"What, dude?"
"I need it." He choked out. Manny cocked his head to the side, confused, trying to process what he'd just said, and it seemed to click when Jon's eye-line floated again to his crotch.
"Fuck, man, it was just one time! Only one!" Manny said.
"I know," Jon said, growing panicked, guilty. "But...I fucking think...I can't focus at work...I can't sleep because I fucking need it so bad!"
"No, dude!" Manny said. "Just no, you're not fucking sucking my cock again!" He said one thing, but Jon saw that he was already getting hard in his pants and his desperation suddenly skyrocketed.
"Please!" He begged, seconds away from getting on his knees at Manny's feet, but Manny shook his head, no. "What about your cum?" If he couldn't have it all, then maybe he could at least have this. "I just need some cum, please, dude!" He begged.
Manny paused, looking at him, searching his face before turning away again, and Jon thought he'd been rejected again. Then Manny was walking over to the sink, grabbing a clean glass from the rack. He came back to the table and set the glass down.
"Don't move!" Manny said sternly. He pulled down the waistband of his pants, the underwear with it, tucking them under his massive, hairy balls as his thick, brown cock sprang free. Jon's breath caught in his throat and he felt his mouth begin to salivate. He watched as Manny spat in his right hand and started to smear the fat head of his cock with it. He jerked himself with a practiced speed, the meaty cock turning greasy in his palm as the spit-lube became frothy. All Jon could do was watch, his fists clinched at his side, holding himself back with all his willpower, practically panting with excitement.
"You...You really want my disgusting nut?" Manny asked through a shaky breath. Jon nodded enthusiastically.
"Yes, please!"
Three more sloppy strokes and Manny picked up the glass from the table. He angled it in one hand, his cock in the other and with a long, shuttering grunt he shot thick, white globs of semen into the glass, coating the sides and then filling it up nearly half way with a hot, three day load. He stroked the last drops into the glass and wiped the tip on the edge of the rim before placing it back down on the table and pulling back up his pants. He nodded at Jon expectantly, daring him to drink it, blissed out from a good, hard orgasm.
Jon took the glass, his hands shaking. It was hot to the touch and he could smell the intoxicating, heady musk of it before he even brought the glass to his face. It smelled like heaven. Unable to hold himself back anymore, he drank, moaning as it hit his tongue. It was saltier than before, the texture more liquid as it was heavier than the first time. He drank it down until he had to stick his tongue into the glass to lick the rim and the sides, and doing his best to reach the bottom of the glass.
When he was done and the haze cleared in his head, he realized that Manny had gone back to the room. He slumped in his chair. He'd ruined everything again. Emotionally defeated but finally fed, he stood up, washed the glass and then got ready for work.
The day went smoothly. He felt closer to his old self. He was able to get things done and catch up on things he had let fall behind. When Manny came home he’d made dinner and left Manny's plate in the fridge like he always did. But instead of retreating to his room, Manny came to find him where he was sitting in the living room watching TV.
"How'd work go?" Manny asked as he walked past.
"It went great, actually." Jon answered. Manny gestured for Jon to scoot over and make space for him on the couch. They sat and ate, watching Netflix as if everything was normal. That night Jon got a full 8 hours of sleep.
Friday morning Jon woke to find the house empty, Manny already off to work. He walked into the kitchen about to make a bowl of cereal when he noticed a mug on the counter with a note.
"Have a great day, dude," it said. He paused, peering into the mug, and not believing what he saw. Inside the mug was a used condom, loaded up and tied off at the end. He picked it up and felt that it was still warm to the touch. Still fresh. His heart sped up in his chest and he licked his lips as he hastily untied the condom. He emptied the contents into his mouth, greedily squeezing the condom for as much as he could get before tonguing the inside for dregs.
The next few weeks went on in much the same pattern. Monday through Wednesday he'd wake up to Manny's morning load waiting for him wrapped up like a gift to get him through the day. When Manny got home everything was almost like it used to be. They were friends again, they talked, laughed, hung out. Jon's work improved significantly, he slept well most nights.
On Thursdays, Fridays, and weekends, Jon would make them breakfast and Manny would jerk off while Jon watched, still not allowed to touch him as he filled a glass with his seed.
Three weeks into their new routine something happened. They'd gone out drinking the night before and came home plastered. The next morning, Jon woke up, headed to the bathroom and walked in on Manny letting loose a steady stream of piss into the toilet. Jon's eyes zeroed in on his cock and that strong stream and a world of desire he’d only briefly considered, and just as hastily pushed down, opened up in front of him. It happened so fast, but somehow Manny had been able to read him entirely. It was only for a second, but he hadn't missed the look of disgust that had crossed Manny's face and then just as quickly gone back to neutral.
They froze, Manny's stream stopping mid piss.
Then Manny gestured to the floor next to the toilet. Jon got on his knees and positioned his head over the toilet, mouth open and facing upward. Manny aimed and let loose a stream of hot piss into his waiting mouth. He swallowed the bitter liquid. It was acrid and yet, still masculine and strong. He chased after the stream as it trickled off and Manny tucked himself away.
One Saturday of the 4th week, they were hanging out playing video games for hours.
"Fuck, I need to piss, dude." Manny said, and before Jon knew what was happening, Manny had casually pulled out his cock. Jon leaned forward and allowed Manny to guide his open mouth to dick. Jon didn't suck it, instead he let it stay in his mouth while Manny unleashed a torrent of fresh piss into his throat. He swallowed it all, careful not to spill a drop. When it was done, they went back to things as normal.
Sunday, he walked into the kitchen to find Manny cooking breakfast, eggs and toast with raspberry jam.
Manny came to the table with a plate full of food, but before he could reach for it, Manny pulled out his cock and began jerking off.
"Got your jizz sauce ready for you," he said through a panted breath.
It wasn't too long before he exploded, his load splashed on top of the scrambled eggs and toast. Manny set the plate down in front of him and then picked up the glass, aiming his cock before he started to piss into the glass, filling up to the top with a relieved sigh. "And your favorite juice to go with it," he said as he settled down with his own plate and looked over at Jon with a friendly smile.
Jon picked up the sperm covered toast and began to eat, savoring every bite of food and gulp of golden piss as Manny looked on with pride.
Jon was in his own personal paradise, and even though he never said it, he knew Manny was enjoying it, too. But everything has to end, and the repairs on his apartment were due to be complete by the end of the week.
The last weekend of Jon's stay they spent together hanging out and getting drunk on the couch when Manny wordlessly pulled his cock out, waving the meat in Jon's direction. Jon leaned in automatically, expecting a stream of piss for his troubles. Instead Manny's hand presses down on the back of his head, forcing his cock down Jon's throat as far as it could go. He choked on it, unprepared for the intrusion on his airway, but still delightfully surprised. Manny held him there for a while, letting spit pool at the base of his cock.
"Wanted to do something special for your last night here, dude," Manny said, ruffling Jon's hair affectionately. "I'm going to give you everything that you want, straight from the tap. Sound good?" He didn't let up, but he didn't move either, waiting for Jon to respond. All Jon could do was attempt to speak with a mouth full of his best friend's hairy cock. His words came out gargled as his throat constricted around dick.
“Gawwwd.”
"Awesome," Manny said as began fucking Jon's throat at a relentless pace. He kept it up for a few minutes before abruptly pulling all the way out. He allowed Jon to take a breath before he took his cock in hand, glossy with slimy spit and slapped it across Jon's face.
"You like that, right?" Manny asks him.
Jon hummed in agreement as he started to lick up and down the shaft. He sucked the head back into his mouth on the way up. Manny grabbed him by the hair again and pushed him back down on his cock. This time though he was prepared for it, and when he met resistance he relaxed until his nose met dark, musky pubes. He purred in contentment at having achieved his dream of being stuffed to the hilt with Manny sausage.
"Oh fuck!" Manny moaned. "You're fucking in love with my cock, aren't you?" He gazed down at Jon whose eyes were full of tears as he struggled to breath and they both knew it was true. Manny rocked his hips a little, causing his cock to rub against the back of Jon's throat, triggering his gag reflex and almost making him vomit. Jon fought it back and Manny moaned, his head falling back in bliss.
"Here it comes, bud!” Then creamy fluid hit Jon's gullet, some of it flooding up and out through his nose as he fought to take it all. When it was over, Manny let him go and Jon pulled off, taking several minutes to cough, taking in deep gulps of air. Manny got up from the couch and came back with a rag in hand which he passed to Jon.
They spent the rest of the evening as normal until they went to bed. Manny's demeanor seemed more relaxed. He was once again the kind, loyal friend that Jon had always counted on.
Monday morning came and Jon got up early to pack his meager belongings into his car. He'd spent the evening before closing off in his room, moping at the impending loss of the best thing that had ever happened to him. He had never been more satisfied, more focused at work, and the best part was he was spending more time with his favorite person in the world than he had in years. He wasn't ready to give that up.
He knew it couldn't have lasted forever. They're arrangement was beyond anything either of them had ever heard of, not romantic, but sexual in a way that was complicated. He also knew it wasn't something Manny wanted, just something he allowed Jon to have because he cared about him. So he stood on Manny's porch, giving his best friend a hug that felt more like he was breaking up with Manny's cock than saying goodbye to his best friend.
"So, can I see you again, sometime soon?" He asked hopefully.
"Yeah, man," Manny asked, and he sounded just as disheartened as Jon felt. "We can do weekend brunch or something?"
"Yeah," Jon said, giving a half smile before turning away.
"Or..." He heard Manny say as he walked down the first step. He turned around.
"Or?"
"You could stay? You said you were getting a promotion, and the mortgage on this place isn't cheap." Manny said.
"Oh." He said, trying not to sound too hopeful.
"Also, you're my best friend, and making you happy makes me happy," He said.
"It does?"
"Yeah, dude, plus, it's kind of awesome knowing my loads aren't going to waste anymore. You in?
"Fuck yeah!" They hugged again, this time in joy.
"Let's put this stuff away quick, I've got a fat morning piss I'm dying to let go and I know you're hungry for it." Manny said as they walked out to Jon's car to retrieve his things.
