Noah and I had been friends all our lives, from skimming stones and tearing clothes on barbed wire, we had fooled around, as all boys do. Sometimes we were joined by other mates, but, truth be told, we were always happiest in our own company, like the closest of brothers. Sleepovers, movies, unseparable. We shared clothes and were in the same classes at school.
As we entered our teenage years, we would spend all day cycling down country lanes, lying back in long grass, happy to be together. Yes, I suppose it was love, if not in the sexual sense. That had never crossed our minds. As adolescents, all the talk was of girls, big tits, and how we wanted to find a girlfriend and lose our virginities. We would walk through the shopping mall, pointing out a nice ass, or a well filled jumper, crudely saying what we would like to do to them.
At 17, we took up BMX cycling, having found a nearby track. Weekends, as long as it was dry, was spent honing our skills. It was not long after Noah's 18th birthday that disaster struck. There was a group of youngsters at the track, and we decided to show off. Stupid in hindsight. We raced each other at top speed, taking off on the hills, until, that is, Noah crash landed. The bike was a mangled wreak. and, with no helmet, Noah was in serious trouble. Someone called the ambulance, while I bent over my buddy, crying, helpless. Having stopped myself, I dried his tears with a hanky. His hands and knees were bleeding badly, I only hoped no bones were broken. I phoned his mum to tell her. The ambulance arrived quite quickly, and the paramedics set about working on him, then laid him on a stretcher and put him in the back of their vehicle. They gave him morphine to ease the pain, and they allowed me to travel with them. By the time we reached the hospital, his mum was waiting anxiously. Not being a relative, I had to stay in the waiting room, while his mum accompanied him to the ward.
Three hours or more passed before a tired looking mum appeared. "He's going to be okay, broken right arm, twisted ankle, cuts and bruises. Luckily no head injuries." I burst into tears again.
Noah stayed in hospital overnight, then was sent home to recuperate. Looking back now, he was very lucky, he could easily have been in a wheelchair. I took two weeks off work, my buddy being the most important person in my life. His mum put up a camp bed in Noah's room, so I could be by his side. In the first few days I did everything for him, helped him to the toilet, even wiped his bottom. His mum and dad had gone to work, and he wanted a shower, and that changed things. It meant that we both had to be in there naked together, me tenderly nursing his wounds. We both sprang erections. Maybe we were overcome with emotions, I don't really know. We kissed, the first time I had kissed anyone with a purpose. He held the back of my head, and, with the water cascading over us, we kissed again, this time with passion, our bodies rubbing together. I dried him first tenderly, his boner still rock hard, as was mine, then dried my self and helped him back to his bed, "Thank you, no thank you for everything, I love you." Tears again, from both of us. I knelt beside his bed, we kissed again, emotions that had been brewing subconsciously for years spilling out. My right hand gripped his penis, and I instinctively began to wank him. He did nothing to stop me, with his right arm in plaster, he hadn't masturbated since the accident. It didn't take long, jet after lovely jet splattered everywhere. For some unknown reason, I sucked the last drops from him. "Thanks, I fucking needed that." It left me with a need to satisfy myself, so I lay on the camp bed and tossed myself, a bigger load than I had achieved in years. It even tasted better.
In the afternoon, Noah said that he was horny again, and could I help him out? I climbed on the bed with him, now at home with the situation, accepting our love for one another. We kissed passionately, erections throbbing. I kissed his nipples, making them grow and harden. On down, kissing his six pack. By the time I reached his penis, it was already leaking. I licked the strands of precum, followed by his velvety shaft. 'My god', I thought, 'what am I doing?' It just felt so right. I cupped his balls and gave him a blow job, not really knowing what I was doing. It came naturally. I was rewarded with his warm cream. We kissed, and I fed his semen back to him. Rolling over, he watched me jerk.
My mum brought me a change of clothes and I stayed with him for a week, every day taking him to the bathroom, wiping his bum, showering together, kissing, wanking and blowing him, It wasn't being gay, it was simply helping my bestie out when he needed it. At least, that's what I told myself. I did go home for one night, desperate for a good night's sleep, then back for another week with Noah. We had always been close, now we were even closer, if that were possible. A third week together, we were into a routine that we both loved. I had never had so much sex, I had only ever done solo anyway. The last thing I expected, was to have my first sexual encounter with Noah. One day, after having sex once again, he confided that I had been his fantasies while jerking for years. I welled up, softie that I am. His mum never knew, but we dispensed with the camp bed and slept together.
