Sunday
9:17 am
I wake up a little dizzy. Disoriented. Playing scenes from last night over and over in my head. The movie. The porn. Lewis. My morning wood is screaming for my attention, but I don't touch it. I can't. Or don't want to. Not now, at least.
It's not lost on me that I made Lewis cum. Not directly. Not by touching him. But definitely by what I said. It's like I gave him whatever he looked at that video for and it sent him over the edge. I feel weird about it. Conflicted. A little embarrassed but also kind of…proud? Satisfied I made somebody feel good, even if that somebody was my best friend jerking off beside me.
I'm also nervous. Nervous he might wake with the same realization and not want to look me in the eye. Nervous that things will be awkward while we're snowed in, unable to leave the house all day.
Fuck, did I make a huge mistake?
But it didn't feel like a mistake last night. It felt fucking awesome. It was fun and exciting and so goddamn hot. I never thought I’d enjoy that but I did. And while I lay here, body straining against the sheets, I can’t help but hope we do it again.
9:33 am
I make coffee and sit on the couch to drink it, hoping it might settle my stomach. Besides my nerves, the full bottle of red wine might be to blame for my uneasiness. I scroll on my phone for a while until I hear a door open behind me, hear footsteps in the hall.
“Morning,” a sleepy voice calls out.
“Morning,” I reply, looking up. “Coffee's made.”
“Awesome,” he mumbles before disappearing into the kitchen. He returns a minute later with his usual mug, steam curling up from the top of it.
He nestles in on the far end of the couch, leaned against the armrest, scrolling on his phone. I can't help but notice his body today. How light and limber it is. How coiled with energy. The energy I saw him release last night. There's something exciting about it today, knowing what's under that sweater, under the shorts.
“How'd you sleep?” I ask, wanting to fill the silence.
“Like a rock.”
“Same,” I nod. “I guess that happens after a bottle of wine.”
“Not to mention getting off.”
I exhale. We're mentioning it. Good.
“Yeah, that too. Nature's Ambien.”
He laughs, looks up from his phone.
“It's sunny out. Guess it stopped snowing?”
“Yeah, they said it should be done now. Gonna be pretty sunny the rest of the day.”
“How much snow did we get?”
“Hmm,” I muse, opening up my weather app. “Says six-and-a-half inches.”
“Nice. Exactly one average penis’s worth of snow.”
“I guess that's true,” I laugh. “Although, that number is a little low for me.”
He looks up like he's about to make some snarky comeback but pauses, reconsiders.
“I guess I have to agree with you there now that I've seen it. Don't get to call your bluffs anymore.”
I just roll my eyes. It's weird, talking about it so openly. It's not all that different from the jokes and jabs we've thrown at each other in the past, only now we don't have to package it up so carefully, don't have to make it sound like an insult or land like a quip. It can just be a comment, a statement, an observation. Something we talk about. Something we now know about each other.
I feel this strange urge to stay on the topic, to keep the conversation lingering on taboo things, but I've no idea what to say or how to do it. So I stay quiet. Scroll a little on my phone.
2:06 pm
After breakfast and a lazy morning, we decide to venture outdoors. I've dug out my old ski pants and a sweater, laced up my boots for a proper walk. When I come into the living room, Lewis is also geared up, though his hiking boots don't look entirely fit for the task at hand.
“Those gonna work?” I ask, gesturing toward his feet.
“They're gonna have to.”
We grab our coats and head out to the back yard. The snow is deep, piled on branches, covering roofs, blown into drifts that creep up the sides of buildings and nearly cover the back porch stairs. It's good snow, powdery and cold. It makes me think of the mountains.
I cautiously approach the steps, try to walk down them, estimating where each step might be, but my foot plunges into the drift. It's halfway up my calf by the time my foot finds something solid. I grab the handrail while Lewis laughs behind me. He gets a running start, leaps over the steps entirely, lands in the yard with a melodramatic somersault, like some kind of wannabe stunt man. Powder flies around him, drifting through the air like dust. I laugh, pull my foot from the drift, plunge forward.
From there we mostly stomp around, shaking snow from branches and marveling at our buried cars. Lewis tries to climb a drift by the detached garage and plunges into it, sinking to the waist. I can't stop laughing as I shuffle over to pull him out.
It's stupid.
And fun.
I feel like a kid again, playing in the snow for no reason other than there's snow to play in. I want to go sledding, but we don't have a sled or a hill or a way to travel. It's only when I realize I can't feel my toes that I think about going back in. I say this to Lewis who reluctantly agrees.
“Honestly these boots are fucking useless and I've had snow in my crotch since I fell in that drift.”
“Guess you'll just have to go inside and rub some heat back into it,” I tease.
“That’s the plan,” he smirks.
3:25 pm
I sit on my bed and listen to the sound of the shower running through the wall behind me. I'm restless, energized, like our jaunt outside was just an appetizer and now I'm ready for a main course. I wish I could go to the gym, but there's no way my car would make it out of the neighborhood. Not till a snow plow comes.
I showered first when we got back inside. Lewis said he needed a minute to get the snow out of his pants, so I got first dibs. I showered quickly, leaving the door open. Not all the way, just cracked a few inches after pulling my towel from the hook on the back. After last night, it felt silly to close the door for something as harmless as a shower. I thought about jerking off again but I didn't want to get ahead of myself, hoping we might do another round of videos today. But now, lying on my bed, hearing Lewis in the shower, I wish I'd gone ahead and done it.
I still haven't been able to shake the image of Lewis and I on the couch, legs sprawled, cocks in our hands, shooting the breeze while we jerked off watching porn. I'm still dizzy with disbelief that we ever ended up in that scenario. I want to do it again, just to prove that it happened. Just thinking about it gets me going again.
The shower stops and a minute later the door opens. I hear Lewis walk into his room. My heart is fluttering a little as I get out of bed, walk toward his open door.
“So,” I begin, leaning against the doorframe in an attempt to act normal. Lewis is still in his towel. It hangs low on his waist. He turns to look at me but doesn't seem surprised I'm here.
“Yeah?” He asks, one eyebrow slightly raised.
“I, uh,” I sputter, realizing I should've practiced this in my head. “I thought of that video. The one I owe you. From last night.”
“You did, huh?” His eyebrow raises a little higher.
“Yeah,” I shrug, the epitome of calm and collected. “Thought of a couple, actually, that might be fun to watch. But one in particular if I've got to settle a tab.”
“Alright,” Lewis smiles, crosses his arms. His happy trail disappears beneath the towel. It's defying gravity to stay around his waist. “When should we watch it?”
“I mean, I was kinda thinking…now? I could for it, anyways. But whenever.”
Lewis nods, considers this.
“Now’s good. Go pull it up, I'll be right there.”
I hold myself against the doorframe to conceal my excitement.
“Right on.”
3:33 pm
I'm sitting on the couch, video paused but pulled up on the TV, waiting for Lewis to join. My knee bounces nervously. I start to wonder if he's pranking me, but then look up and see him enter from his room. He's already naked. His dark pubes contrast against his pale skin, instantly drawing my eye. His cock is soft and plump, hanging between his legs. It bounces and swings cheerfully with each step.
“What the fuck, dude?” I laugh.
“What?” He shrugs shamelessly. “This is the end goal, yeah?”
He sets a bottle of lotion down on the coffee table, tosses a couple of hand towels on the couch. I look up at him; he matches my gaze coolly.
“You're right, you're right,” I concede.
Now I'm standing. Pulling off my sweater. Kicking off my shorts. I turn to him, cock already swelling a little from the exposure.
“Better?” I smirk.
“Better.”
We sit down and I start the video. It shows a pretty standard living room, a girl sitting cross-legged on the couch. She's cute. Brunette. She looks like she's trying to act sad. Another girl appears holding a bottle of wine and two glasses. She's tall, blonde, confident.
“Thanks for letting me come over,” Sad Girl says.
“Of course,” Blonde Girl replies. “I can't believe he stood you up. What an asshole.”
She pours two glasses of wine.
“I really thought he was gonna be a nice guy. He seemed so nice on the app.”
They talk for a bit, painfully bland porn dialogue trying to establish the scene.
“You ever stood up a date before?” Lewis asks me. We're both still soft, both settling into the space again.
“Once,” I admit. “In college. Felt bad about it. You?”
“Nah, never did.” He pauses. “Been stood up though.”
“What?” I turn to him. “That sucks, man, I'm sorry.”
“Yeah, you oughta be,” he teases. “Where was my glass of wine and shoulder to cry on?”
We look at the TV where Sad Girl is literally crying on Blonde Girl's shoulder. Blonde Girl wraps an arm around her shoulder, consoles her gently.
“You didn't tell me,” I raise my hands in mock defense. “You know my shoulder’s always here for you.”
“Yeah, it better be!”
We laugh, exhale, settle in.
Blonde Girl takes Sad Girl's face in her hands, tells her a compliment, assures her she doesn't need some loser guy from a dating app. Sad Girl looks up pitifully like she doesn't believe her. And then they're kissing. Passionately. Feverishly. There's a lot of tongue, which is just good foreshadowing.
Pretty soon Blonde Girl is peeling off Sad Girl's clothes, kneeling between her legs. There's more tongue.
“Still want that shoulder to cry on?” I quip to Lewis. His cock is swelling. It's moved from hanging between his legs to resting heavily on his hip. I can almost see his pulse in it. I'm also hard, my shaft pointing up towards my stomach.
“I don't know, this just got pretty full-service.”
He says this without looking away from the TV. I chuckle, start grazing the underside of my shaft with my fingertips. Lewis palms his cock, rolling it a little on his hip. We hang in this middle ground for a bit, watching the screen and touching ourselves without fully touching ourselves. My cock is especially sensitive, aware of the extra eyes in the room, aware of the daylight pouring in through the windows. There's no darkness to hide behind now.
I also realize we haven't been drinking. Last night this was a drunken stumble into something horny and fun. This is a sober decision to share this moment, to have this interaction again. I wonder if that means anything. I hope it doesn't make us more shy.
The girls continue kissing, peeling off each other's clothes. Soon they're both naked. Blonde Girl lays on the couch while Sad Girl rides her face. They've got amazing bodies, great breasts. Sad Girl has a patch of neatly trimmed hair above her pussy. We watch it tickle Blonde Girl’s lips.
“How do you feel about pubes?” I ask, casually curious.
“I don't mind them,” he answers honestly. “You?”
“I don't mind them either. As long as they're not out of control. I prefer it smooth, but it's not that big a deal to me, ya know?”
“I get that,” Lewis nods. “I think as long as she's okay with me having them, I'm okay with her having them.”
“That's very fair,” I laugh. Pause. “I used to shave mine.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, like all through high school. And most of college. I don't know why,” I chuckle.
Lewis chuckles.
“I used to trim mine a lot more but I never really shaved them. Never wanted to take the time.”
“It honestly wasn't worth it. It just itched.”
“Good to know,” he laughs. I feel him look down at my crotch, notice the hair that's tangled there. “I feel like guys look better with some hair down there. We're dudes, we ought to be a little hairy.”
“I agree!”
“And, like, if I don't at least have some body hair happening, I just look like I'm fifteen.”
“I don't know man, that's a pretty big dick for fifteen,” I tease. “But I know what you mean. I think I look better with them too.”
“Yeah, you do,” he says coolly.
This compliment almost surprises me until I realize I just told him he’s got a nice dick. I don't know what to do with this exchange. There's nothing loaded in our observations; it's not different than two guys complimenting each other at the gym, only instead of biceps and pecs we’re talking boners and pubes.
The girls on the screen roll into a sixty-nine, eating each other with glee. I start stroking myself now, lazily, not wanting to rush anything. Lewis sits up, gets a pump of lotion from the bottle on the table, and does the same.
“Do you like eating pussy?” He asks me with the same frank curiosity.
“Yeah,” I say quickly. “I mean. Yeah. I guess. Do you?”
His forehead scrunches up.
“I think so. I've only done it twice. No idea if I was any good.”
“Okay, honestly, same,” I laugh with relief. “I had no idea what I was doing and I thought I was gonna sprain my tongue.”
Lewis laughs.
“Yeah, like, if I got the chance to practice more and knew that I was good, I’m sure I'd enjoy doing it more.”
“Dude, I feel that. It's not like the times I did it I could ask for a review.”
“Three out of five stars,” Lewis grins mischievously.
“Fuck you. Four at least.”
“Guess you'll never know.”
“You think girls feel that way about sucking dick?” I ask after a pause.
“Probably,” Lewis says. “No one's ever asked me for a review.”
“Me either,” I laugh. After a beat, another question pops up. “What's the best blowjob you've had? Out of five stars.”
“I guess a four,” Lewis admits uncertainly. “You?”
“Yeah,” I consider this. “I'd say three-and-a-half.”
“That low?”
“I guess. I just haven't–” I pause, realizing how insufferable the rest of that sentence might sound.
“Haven't what?” Lewis looks at me.
“I haven't had anyone who could really…you know…take all of it.” I say this like I'm embarrassed. I don’t mean it as a brag. I do know I'm not that big.
Lewis just looks at my cock, really studies it for a second. It's sturdy base, mushroom head, thick vein running down the shaft. I'd say it's above average but it's nothing like what you see in porn. Lewis sees all this then nods.
“It's pretty big,” is all he says.
“Thanks,” I laugh.
I look at his now. He lets me. It's honestly impressive, but in ways I don't know how to describe. It's a pretty average side. No curves to it. No veins or blemishes. It's…well, it's perfect. It's like what you picture if you imagined the perfect cock. Like what the status of David might look like if he ever popped a boner. I don't know how to say any of this without freaking us both out, so instead I ask a question.
“Was that the problem with yours?” I ask, meaning about his blowjob. “She couldn't take it?”
“Nah.” He actually chuckles. “I don't seem to have that problem. They just weren't all that…impressive.”
“How so?” I ask, intrigued.
“Like, I can do more with my hand than they did with their blowjobs.”
“Dude,” I groan. “I feel that.”
We go quiet and watch the video, still stroking. The girls look close to finishing.
“I didn't ask yet why you like this one.” Lewis pipes up.
“Oh yeah.” Truth be told, I'd almost forgotten it was playing. “I think…honestly, I just like the girls working on each other. Like they both know exactly what they're doing. How they're making each other feel. It kinda seems like they're moaning cuz it actually feels good, not just to put on a show. That's super hot to me.”
Lewis squeezes up his shaft and a bead of precum appears.
“Yeah man, I get that.”
The girls cum, collapse, cuddle, and the video reaches its end.
“That was hot, dude.” Lewis says approvingly.
“Glad you thought so.”
“That made me think of one.” He looks at me, one eyebrow raised. “You up for one more?”
“Obviously.”
I wiggle my erection to prove my point. It makes me harder, flagrantly flashing my boner to my best friend. But he just laughs like he genuinely thinks that it's funny. Like he's having as much fun with this as I am.
3:55 pm
Lewis's video opens on some California mansion, all glass walls and modern furniture and a turquoise pool out back. Inside, two babes stand in the kitchen wearing tiny swimsuits. One is a hot Latina with flowing dark hair and hips for days, the other a pale redhead with perfect skin and abs that honestly make me a little jealous. They're getting wine and fruit out of the fridge when there's a knock on the door. The Latina opens it, revealing some hunk handyman, complete with a tight white t-shirt and a tool belt around his waist.
“Oh come in,” the girl says cheerfully. “It’s just in here.”
She walks away, ass jiggling in her swimsuit, the handyman very obviously checking her out. She leads him to the kitchen where he sees the second girl and his eyes nearly bulge out of his head like something in an old cartoon. They show him the sink or the dishwasher or something in this mansion that presumably doesn't work before taking themselves outside to the pool.
“He's handsome, don't you think?” The Latina girl asks as they lay out on two lounge chairs.
“So handsome,” the redhead agrees. “I'd let him get handy with me anytime.”
More bad porn dialogue ensues and eventually the redhead asks if the other girl can help put sunscreen on her back. As expected, this involves taking off the top to her swimsuit. The Latina sensually rubs sunscreen onto the redhead’s back. After a minute, the redhead rolls over and looks up longingly at the Latina. She reaches up, undoes her bikini, and now they're both topless. The sunscreen applying turns to caressing, then kissing, then fingers slip beneath bikini bottoms.
Suddenly, as they're really getting into it, the handyman walks out onto the pool deck.
“Okay, it's all fini–” he pauses, looking at the girls in a tangle of bare limbs.
“Oh good,” the Latina looks up and smiles, unphased by their sudden audience.
“Since you're all done there,” coos the redhead, “why don't you come and join us?”
He cautiously approaches, unbuckles his tool belt, tosses it onto the empty chair.
“We’ll call this your tip,” smiles the Latina. She stands and walks behind him, presses her breasts against his back. He closes his eyes and sighs. She runs her fingers under his shirt while the redhead crawls onto her knees, starts to unbutton his jeans.
Soon they've pulled off his shirt, opened the fly to his jeans. The Latina caresses his chest, pinches his nipples while she kisses his neck. The redhead reaches in and pulls out his massive cock. It’s huge. Eight or nine inches at least. She starts stroking it, licking it, tonguing the slit.
“Damn,” I whisper. “Now that's a big dick.”
“Yeah, that thing's fucking huge,” Lewis agrees.
I'm a little mesmerized by it. It easily eclipses mine and Lewis's. It doesn't help this guy's shaved smooth and we can see it all the way to the base. Still, it's a monster, and I don't know if I'm jealous or just impressed.
“Like, what do you even do with a cock that big?” I ask, bewildered. “I can't imagine just going on a date and casually whipping that out on some poor, unsuspecting girl. I feel that needs to come with a warning or something.”
“I guess that's why you go do porn instead,” Lewis says dryly.
“Fair enough.”
We watch the action start to escalate onscreen. The girls take seats on the lounge chair and the guy kneels before them, starts taking turns on them, using his fingers on one and his tongue on the other, then trading off. The girls both moan and writhe in ecstasy before they start making out with each other.
“Fuck,” I sigh.
I get another pump of lotion and lean back into the couch while this happens, envying the guy, admiring the girls. As I settle into the cushions, my leg brushes against Lewis's thigh. I pull back reflexively, mutter an apology, but Lewis doesn't seem to mind. He's watching the TV, stroking himself slowly, with intent. I keep watching, keep stroking, relax further, until my leg falls open, comes to rest against his thigh again. I keep it there this time, and again Lewis says nothing. It's pulsing with heat, this point of contact, his bare skin against mine. Our shoulders are touching too, and I realize we could both spread out, have more room to ourselves.
But we don't.
The girls roll on the lounge chair, one on top of the other, still making out while the guy stands – his cock protruding like a tree branch – and steps into place behind the Latina’s glistening pussy. I can't help but moan a little when he slides in. Lewis's breath catches beside me. His free hand reaches down and begins to tug at his balls. I change my grip, pulling my cock with my left hand, milking it low and slow.
“Have you ever had a threesome?” I ask Lewis while we stroke. I feel his head turn towards me.
“What do you think?” He says sarcastically. I can't help but laugh.
“I don't know! You could pull,” I offer. He just rolls eyes. “Well, me neither.”
“Would you?”
“For sure,” I answer excitedly. “I mean, if the opportunity ever presented itself. I just…want to try it once. Ya know?”
“Yeah. Same here.”
The guy pulls out of the Latina, squats down a little to line himself up with the redhead, slides easily into her. The Latina straightens her legs, shoves her pussy into the handyman's face. He accepts the invite and dives in with his tongue. I pause, watching this guy fuck one girl and greedily eat out another. He never misses a beat.
Lewis and I are both full-on stroking now, free hands rubbing our chests, tugging at our balls, roaming ourselves freely. He's grinding his hips a little, fucking his fist, leg rubbing against mine. It's sending signals straight to my cock, feeling his thigh against me. He's leaking pretty good now. It keeps catching my eye.
“Damn,” I sigh. “This is hot.”
I don't know whether I mean the two of us or the video.
“Yeah,” Lewis agrees breathily. “Yeah it is.”
He's also noticeably vague.
On the screen, the guy pulls out, and the girls both shuffle to their hands and knees. They both start blowing him, sucking and slurping making out with his dick between their mouths.
“This is my favorite part,” Lewis confesses. His grip changes. He tugs on his balls, strokes himself with just his thumb and his forefinger. I'm worried he's about to cum, that I'm about to cum, that this is all about to be over. But he moves slowly, pacing himself. I take a deep breath and let myself cool down.
The video's a different story. The guy throws his head back, pinches his nipples, moans heavily while the girls push his cock to the breaking point. Suddenly he's cumming, thick ropes shooting across both girls’ faces. It's so messy and shameless and feral, all the more so considering Lewis and I are out here wanking to it together.
I grip the base of my shaft and tamp down the orgasm I feel building in my groin. It works, but barely. Instead, I start leaking precum everywhere.
“Shit dude, that was hot,” I sigh when the wave passes, the video ends. “I almost came.”
“Me too,” Lewis grins shyly. “Had to take a break for a second.”
I notice he's not touching his cock. It's lying against his stomach now, thick and red and pulsating. His hands run along his thighs and up onto his abdomen.
“That's a good one. I don't watch a lot of threesomes but I might have to change that,” I admit.
“I love them. They're just so…I don't know. Shameless.”
“Dude, I was just thinking that.”
Our eyes meet. We look down at each other. Speaking of shameless…
“What's next?” I ask, laughing.
“You got another one picked out?”
“Not really. You?”
“Nah. I could think of one.”
“At this point I'll watch whatever,” I tease.
Lewis chuckles in agreement and looks at his phone.
“I can just play what the site queued up?” he asks.
“Go for it.”
4:17 pm
The next video starts without much fanfare. A cute blonde sits on the foot of a bed, wearing denim shorts and a tight white tee. She's flanked on either side by a young man, one blond, one brunette, both built like two fraternity guys who've yet to trade in their gym routines for real world responsibilities. They're saying something to the camera, answering questions asked by an off-screen voice. I'm not really listening though; I'm focused on the girl's nipples pointing through her shirt, the guys’ biceps bulging in the hem of their sleeves.
“Have you seen this one?” I ask Lewis, stroking myself slowly to not lose my arousal in the downtime.
“Nope,” he says casually. He's stopped stroking. Instead he combs his fingers through his pubes, massaging himself. “This one's a wild card.”
“Bring it on,” I challenge.
Soon, the blonde guy starts kissing the girl, hand immediately finding her boobs. The brunette guy starts kissing her neck, his hand groping her bare thigh. They're a little sloppy, a little eager, betraying their youth and excitement and inexperience compared to the more polished videos we've been watching. But somehow that makes it exciting. Raw. Vulnerable. Lewis had mentioned the thrill of watching something that didn't feel like performance, and this one already feels pretty real.
The girl turns her head, starts making out with the brunette. His hand slips under her shirt, starts thumbing one of those nipples. The blonde guy wastes no time, grabs the hem of her t-shirt and lifts it over her head. Her boobs are small but perky. Probably Lewis’s type, I think.
She's kissing the brunette and tugging at the blonde dude's shirt. He pulls it off quickly. He's pretty fit, lean and sculpted, with a blonde happy trail snaking down towards his jeans. The brunette pulls back, looks up, takes the hint. He ditches his shirt too. He's skinnier but still defined, the body of a runner or soccer player or something.
The girl leans back on her elbows and both the guys dive in, each taking a nipple in their mouth. The girl squeals, giggles, moans. She's clearly getting a kick out of their eagerness, maybe even more than their tongues.
“Jesus,” Lewis chuckles beside me. “They're certainly excited.”
“Right?” I laugh in agreement. “I guess this is what happens when they let normal guys do porn. They get too excited.”
“I mean, I probably wouldn't be any better,” Lewis confesses.
“Same.”
The boys suck and slobber on the girl's boobs in a way that's comical but still somehow kinda hot.
“Do you normally watch this kind of threesome too?” I ask.
“What do you mean this kind?”
“You know…two dudes.”
“Oh,” Lewis pauses. “Sometimes. Guess it just depends on the girl and if the video is any good.”
“I get that. I guess I normally end up on the two-girls-one-guy side of the site.”
“Yeah, I do too, but everyone once in a while I'll…branch out.”
I wonder what that means, branch out. If there's a side of things we haven't crossed into yet. I'm curious. I suddenly want to know.
The energy of this video is definitely different from the last one. The two guys, their excitement, their clumsiness. It's the same energy I felt in the room with Lewis when we first started down this road together last night. The same energy I still feel now. Charged, awkward, uncertain. But all the more electric for it.
The guys onscreen start kissing all over the girl's torso. The blonde dude reaches down, undoes her shorts without even looking; the brunette reaches pulls them off; they’re working together, tag-teaming like they've done this together before. Like this is just something they do as friends. Maybe they do. I wonder if any guys I know get up to stuff like this...
Now the girl's naked between the two shirtless guys, and they start kissing lower and lower. I expect one of them to stop, to pause, to move back up to her mouth, but they don't. Instead, they both descend on her pussy, diving in with their tongues like they've done this a hundred times. Their faces rub together, their tongues overlap. They blonde throws an arm around the other guy's shoulder like they're just two bros hanging out. My stomach does a little flip. I've never really seen this before, and my brain doesn't know what to make of it. They're practically making out, which seems a little gay, but at the same time they've both got their tongue on her clit and there's nothing much gay about that. The girl moans like crazy. My dick swells immediately.
“Whoah,” I say, unsure how else to respond. “That's different.”
“Yeah…” Lewis says quietly, distracted. I look over. His eyes are locked on the TV. “Wasn't expecting that.”
Neither of us add a comment. Neither of us says to turn it off.
They keep going, licking her pussy, licking each other, tongues tangling together without the faintest hesitation. I can't help but wonder what that would feel like. What it would taste like. I feel that question radiate up my spine. The brunette finally falls back, lips shiny, and drops his pants. His cock springs free. It looks big on his slender frame, accentuated by a bed of well-groomed pubes.
“Bring that up here,” the girl moans.
He obeys.
He crawls onto the bed, straddles the girl's shoulders, points his dick at her mouth. She takes it, licking it like candy. The blonde guy keeps eating her out, starts pulling off his jeans. He kicks them off behind him and starts stroking his cock. He kneels on the ground, back arched, muscles rippling, glutes round and firm. We can see his hole. It's pink and puckered and lined by light blonde hair.
I think about making a comment, cracking a joke, expressing my disgust. Only I'm not disgusted; I'm pretty fucking intrigued. And Lewis seems to be too. He didn't even flinch as we look at this guy's undercarriage – his hole open to the camera, his balls swinging freely between his thighs. We just watch, keep stroking like it's a totally normal Sunday.
Finally, the blonde guy pulls back, and looks up at his companions.
“My turn,” he smirks.
I assume he means he's due for a blowjob, so I am a little confused when the girl and brunette flip over, trade places. The brunette lies on his back, his cock standing tall, and the girl moves to straddle his face. I freeze as I watch the blonde dude slide up the brunette's thighs, hover over his groin, slowly grip his cock. He lowers down, sticks out his tongue, drags it slowly up his buddy's shaft.
I hear myself inhale sharply. Surprise. Arousal. I don't even know. It just catches me off guard, feels like something I shouldn't be watching. The guy onscreen shows no such prudishness. Instead, he starts blowing the other dude, devouring his buddie's cock, and it's clear this isn't a new skill.
I feel the blood bloom in my cheeks, flush across my chest. Unsure what to do, I look at Lewis. He's staring, jaw a little slack, then turns to look at me. We pause, both waiting for the first reaction, the first freak out, the first thrown stone. But neither of us say anything. Lewis just laughs, a little one, nervous and unsure. His eyes hold mine as if asking a question he expects me to answer, only I don't know how. It's one thing to watch to porn with your buddy; it's a whole other game to watch two dudes blow each other while you're wanking on the couch. But I don't know how to say any of this, and in the heat of the moment these boundaries I'm drawing feel incredibly nebulous, so I just return his nervous laughter and look back at the TV. Something in the air changes, an unspoken acknowledgement that we're both free to continue, to jerk off together with this is our inspiration.
The blond dude’s really going to town now, fondling his buddy's balls while taking the full shaft down his throat. I'm not gonna lie, it's impressive. There's an energy to it, a hunger, a recklessness I don't see often when it's a girl. This guy's not just acting like he likes it; he's slobbering like he can't get enough.
“Jesus,” I finally exclaim. “Is it just me or does this guy look like he knows what he's doing?”
“I was just thinking the same thing,” Lewis admits. We've both started stroking again now. Slow, hesitant, unsure but undeniable.
“I mean, that's not a small cock and this dude's just devouring it.”
“Yeah, it's…I won't say I'm not impressed.”
I chuckle.
“Have you watched stuff like this much?” I ask slowly, eyes still on the TV. “With two guys?” I'm worried he'll think I'm confronting him, teasing him, setting him up for some joke. His pause tells me he's debating how to answer.
“I have before,” he finally confesses. “Once or twice. Just to check it out.” There's another silence. “You?”
“Yeah, same. Once or twice.”
My voice is thick. It's the first time I've ever admitted this. It feels weird to say it out loud.
“Trade me,” the girl calls out through moans and giggles. The blonde guy looks up, saliva stringing from his lips. He smiles devilishly.
They trade places, the girl sliding down to blow the brunette, the blonde standing by the edge of the bed, leaning forward. The brunette smiles, turns his head to the side, and reaches for the blonde dude's cock.
“What was it?” I ask. “Do you remember?”
“Not really. Just two dudes fucking. Nothing fancy. You?”
“Same. And some guys sixty-nine, and…”
I pause, realizing my list makes me sound like a regular connoisseur.
“And?”
“And a guy use a dildo on himself.”
“Hmm,” Lewis just nods. “Did you like it?”
I can't help but think the question is a trap, but after all we've already shared I know, deep down, he really wants to know.
“Kinda. I mean, yeah it was hot. Maybe just because it was different. I don't know. You?”
“Same. I didn't not like it. I think I was just horny and hitting a dry spell. Curiosity got the better of me.”
“I get that. And like…this is gonna sound stupid. But I was just…I’d always been curious about the mechanics of it. So I wanted to look it up.”
“Mechanics?”
“Like, you know…” I hesitate. “Anal.”
“Ah,” Lewis nods, smirking a little. “What about it?”
“Like, do guys really like it? Does it really feel good?”
“And were your questions answered?”
“Maybe. I think I just ended up with a lot more questions.”
Lewis laughs heartily. “That's fair.”
We go quiet, watch the video. The trio keep their position for a moment until the girl hops up, straddles the brunette's thighs, slowly lowers herself onto his cock. She starts riding him while he blows the blonde guy. The blonde guy reached down, plays with the brunette dude's nipples. The girl leans over, starts making out with the blonde dude.
It's…a lot. My cock is hard and leaking. I reach up for another pump of lotion, hold the bottle out to Lewis. He accepts, and I squirt a little into his palm. I settle back into the couch and somehow it's like we're even closer now. My leg is totally against his leg, my arm is pressed against his arm. And suddenly I'm so painfully aware of his cock just a few inches away from mine. I'm watching him intently, watching the way his hand slips up and down the shaft, the way he grips the base and twists a bit as he reaches the head.
I can't help picturing the guy in the video, so freely descending on his buddy's boner, not stopping for a second to wonder what that might say about him, what someone might think, and I feel, strangely, something like jealousy. Envy. Of his confidence. His freedom. No doubts, no second thoughts, just desire. Just lust. Just…
I look up at Lewis and meet his gaze. He's been staring at me, watching me watch him. He doesn't seem to mind. In fact, he seems a little flustered, like maybe he knows what I'm thinking. Like maybe he’s thinking the same thing.
I look down at his cock, back up to his eyes.
He stops stroking, lets his hand fall to his thigh.
For a second it's like I'm watching myself move. I see me pause, take my hand off my cock, and with a slow determination reach over and take hold of Lewis's. My fingers curl around it. It's skinnier than mine; my grip closes more than I'm accustomed to. And then I freeze. Look up into his face. He's gazing down at my hand, face frozen with a not-unpleasant disbelief. I'm sure mine looks the same.
I start moving my hand, gliding slowly up the shaft, twisting a little at the head like I’d watched him do, still staring at his face. It's warm and smooth in my hand. I drive my hand down, squeezing a little tighter, until I feel the coarse brush of his pubic hair against my wrist. I feel him shudder, but I can't tell where from – his shoulder, his thigh, his cock. It could be all of them. Probably is. And so I do it again. Raise my hand, twist my grip, drive back down.
And then suddenly I'm jerking my best friend off. His breathing changes a little, like he's fighting back moans. Like he's unsure how much he's allowed to enjoy this. I want him to know that he can, that we've already come this far, there's no more use in keeping up pretenses.
I focus on the head, swirling it around in my palms. A shudder tears through his thighs and he bucks his hips into my hand. I slide back down the shaft and squeeze, drawing out a thick drop of moisture from the tip.
“Fuck dude,” I marvel, watching it slowly slide down the head. I move my hand up, drag my thumb across it, watch it moisten the skin. He turns to look at me, his face a tapestry of repressed emotions. “That's hot,” I add, hoping to set him a little at ease.
He nods a little raggedly.
“Yeah.” His voice is thick. “Yeah, it is.”
So I keep going, returning to a slow and steady rhythm. He relaxes a little, the muscles in his thighs and torso releasing a bit of their tension. I don't know why, but this makes me notice them. Without even thinking about it, I reach up with my other hand and rub it across his chest. It's lean and firm and taut beneath my touch. My thumb grazes a nipple; I watch it get hard. He gasps.
“Is this okay?” I ask, looking up.
He just nods.
My hand explores his chest, his ribcage, his stomach. I can feel each of his abs beneath the skin, smooth like stones in a river. I drag my fingers through his happy trail, feeling the hair that's denser, coarser than mine. I realize how much I've leaned over. To get a better angle. To get a closer look. I'm practically hovering over his torso now. My fingers graze the outskirts of his pubic hair and he moans again, a little louder, a little more freely.
I look up at him and notice our faces are just inches apart, so close I can feel his breath against my cheek. We lock eyes and stare for a moment, the air charged with something neither of us can begin to articulate. I'm a little surprised when he speaks.
“Can I?” he asks, and even though that's all he says I know exactly what he's asking.
“Yeah,” I say breathily.
He shifts forward a little, our faces coming even closer together as he angles himself towards me, and then I feel it – his hand reaching out, wrapping around my cock.
I gasp.
His hand feels so delicate compared to mine, but he's not being tentative. He's holding it firmly, confidently. I can see him processing the feel of it.
“Different, huh?” I hear myself ask.
“Yeah,” he laughs. “Yeah, it is.”
He moves his hand up the shaft, over the tip, and back down. I moan again. I don't mean to. I can't help it.
“Fuck, that feels good.”
“Your cock feels huge, dude,” he laughs nervously.
“It's not that big,” I dismiss him.
“Bigger than mine,” he retorts.
“That's arbitrary," I insist, stroking him again.
And now we're both stroking, hands exploring each other's cocks while we huddle together on the couch. I'm vaguely aware of moans and squealing coming from the TV but I couldn't tell you what's on it. I don't even care. I'm too invested in whatever the hell is happening on this couch.
I pull back just long enough to switch hands, taking over stroking with my left, bracing my right arm against the back of the couch, draping it a little around Lewis's shoulder. He switches hands too, stroking me with his left. I see his right hand come up, hesitate.
“Do you mind?” He asks.
“Go for it,” I answer, thinking how there's nothing I'd say no to at this point.
I feel his hand on my arm, squeezing my bicep while it flexes and unflexes, stroking his cock. It travels up, gripping my shoulder, then slides over and squeezes my pec.
“Jesus dude,” he laughs, his voice and his eyes betraying his fascination, his excitement. He drags his fingers through my chest hair, exploring the differences between us with unhindered interest. My arm rests more firmly on his shoulders. Our bodies draw closer together. Our breathing is ragged and shallow, drawing in as sharp gasps, releasing in long sighs. Our faces hover, mere inches apart, eyes meeting, scanning, resting on lips. Then gravity prevails.
I'm not sure who kisses first, but our lips crash together fervently. My hand finds the back of his neck, pulling us closer together. His tongue slips into my mouth; I hold his lip in my teeth. We're absorbing each other's moans now, feeding them back to one another deep sea divers sharing air. My head is dizzy, my groin’s ablaze.
Lewis's moans get higher, almost whimper-like in their tone and frequency, and something about that kills me. I hear myself purr, growl even, as I devour his mouth with my own. And this he freezes, tenses, moans louder than he has before, and I know what's happened even before his cum splatters on my hand. I keep stroking, keep bringing forth eruptions from his body, whimpers from his throat. He does the same for me, and my body tenses and I spill forth onto the both of us.
We stay there, foreheads together, cocks still hard in both our hands, while the shockwaves echo through us, neither wanting to pull away, to release this moment that's just transpired. I feel like I'm in shock, like my brain can't quite process what's happened. I've just blown a load, and not from my own hand, and not from fucking some girl. This is from a new reason, a third thing I've never had a category for until now. And I can't help but notice how good it felt. How he knew exactly where to touch me, exactly how to squeeze, exactly what that twist over the head would do before he ran back down my shaft.
Eventually our breathing settles. My arm loosens from his shoulder, he releases my cock from his hand. We pull back, slowly, cautiously, neither certain what we are about to find.
“Damn,” I say, still catching my breath.
“Yeah,” Lewis muses. “Yeah, that was intense.
“Fuck yeah it was.” I look down and the cum pooling on my abdomen, sprinkled on my thigh. I'm not sure whose it is. “That felt really fucking good, dude. You know what you're doing.”
“Thanks,” he laughs. “I've had lots of practice. On myself, of course.”
“Of course,” I chuckle.
“That did feel…” he trails off. “Like, that was…that felt fucking great.”
A pause settles between us, like we don't know what all we're allowed to say.
“Well, you're right about one thing,” I begin, toeing the line.
“What's that?”
“You can do more with your hand than half these blowjobs I've had.”
Lewis laughs a little, but something about the comment lands with him. I can see it in his eyes, feel it in the way he shifts in his seat. It makes me think of the video I chose – the two girls working each other because they knew exactly how it would feel on the receiving end. I think we experienced the same thing, a guy's experienced touch, getting us off because he knows exactly what he's doing.
“Okay, yeah, I was gonna say…that was…felt a hell of a lot better than the last handjob I got from a girl.”
“Same,” I nod in agreement. “Way better.”
I think I blush a little as I say this, but I'm not really sure why. Maybe it's just odd to compliment your buddy's hand job skills, I don't know.
“And you know…you're not a bad kisser either,” I say, reaching for one of the towels Lewis brought out earlier. I'm hoping to play this off as a humorous observation. It works, eliciting a quiet laugh.
“Thanks,” he smirks. “I didn't really mean to…I mean, I wasn't expecting…” He stops. Centers himself. “You're pretty good, yourself.”
And then we clean up. Dry off. Go to our rooms to dress. We don't say anything else about it.
9:32 pm
We're settled on the couch, both in our cozy evening best. A movie plays on the TV, a murder mystery we've actually both been wanting to watch for a while. It's quiet between us, a lull that's not been uncomfortable but still makes me a little uneasy. We've crossed a lot of thresholds this weekend, and I'm not quite sure where we've landed on the other side.
“So,” I say as the credits roll. “This weekend was…different.”
“Yeah,” he chuckles, looking at me cautiously. “That's an understatement.”
“Good different.”
“I agree.”
“Just for clarity, I don't think I'm, like, gay or anything. And just so you know I don't, like, expect it to be the new thing between us.” I pause, dissatisfied with how this is going. “What I mean to say is, that was fun. And really hot. And I enjoyed it. But it doesn't have to, like, change anything. If it was just a crazy one-off, I'd totally understand. But…I'm also…open to doing it again. Sometime. If you'd want. Totally no pressure, though.”
He nods, pauses.
“Same,” he finally says. “I mean, I also don't think I'm gay or anything. Not that I'd care if you were. I'd totally be all for it, you know? You're my friend, and…yeah. But I enjoyed it. Also. And wouldn't hate it if we did it more.”
“Cool,” I smile, feeling a gentle wave of relief pass through me.
“Cool,” he smiles in return.
And so our night continues. Tomorrow the show should start melting, the roads should be clear, and we'll both have to go back to work. But I can't help but wait for the next Snow Day, the next storm, the next lazy afternoon with nowhere to go and nothing to do. I wonder how soon that might be. I wonder what videos we might pull up on the TV. I wonder what new facts we might learn about each other. And, most of all, I wonder if we'll keep pushing the boundaries with each new go.
If so, I'm certainly up for it.
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