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- Feb 27, 2023
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- California, USA
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- 90% Gay, 10% Straight
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- Male
All characters are over 18+
The movie droned on in the background as Danny and I sat side by side on the couch, our shoulders almost touching.
I've known my friend Danny when we were in High School. We would all hang out together all the time after school and on weekends, play video games together and go on adventures, you know, just teenager stuff. Anyway, at the end of high school we both went to different colleges across the country for different reasons.
But after college vacations started, Danny and I both came back to our hometown for the summer.
I've been hanging out with Danny pretty much every day since we got back.
I live in my basement and usually he'll come over and we'll play games or watch tv or listen to music, and then he'll crash on the couch, go home in the morning and then come back over in the afternoon, rinse and repeat.
One night, we were watching a romcom.
The scene we were watching was laughably bad—cheesy dialogue, overacted sex scenes but arousing nonetheless. I found myself getting excited.
“Did you even get laid this year?” I blurted out. The words surprised me as much as they probably surprised him. It wasn’t like me to be so blunt, but something about the atmosphere had loosened my tongue.
Danny shifted slightly, turning to look at me. “No,” he said finally, his tone light but there was an edge to it, like he was sharing something he didn’t particularly want to. “You?”
I shook my head, feeling a strange sense of relief at his admission. “Nope. Same old, same old.”
The conversation lingered there for a moment, awkward but not unpleasant. Then, as if the dam had broken, we started talking about sex—or more accurately, the lack of it. It felt odd, confessing our mutual sexual failures to each other, but also kind of liberating. There was no judgment, no teasing, just two friends admitting they were human.
And then, without really thinking about it, I said something I never thought I’d say out loud. “You know… I’d really love to know what it feels like to have somebody suck my cock.”
My heart raced as I waited for Danny’s reaction, half expecting him to laugh or make some sarcastic comment. But he didn’t. Instead, he looked at me, his eyes wide and uncertain. Then, after what felt like an eternity, he stammered, “What if…” He trailed off, blushing furiously and he slipped onto the floor, between my legs.
My mind scrambled to catch up with what was happening. My body was buzzing with anticipation. All I knew was that I didn’t want to stop.
Before I could fully process what was happening, Danny was leaning toward me, his movements hesitant but deliberate. His fingers brushed against my jeans. I froze, unsure of how to react, but he didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he just didn’t care. Either way, he kept moving, unbuttoning my pants with a clumsy sort of urgency.
I let out a shaky breath as he freed my cock from my underwear, the cool air hitting my skin and making me shiver. And then, before I could say anything—before I could even think—his mouth was on me.
The sensation was overwhelming. His lips were warm and soft, and the way he moved them around my cock made my head spin. I groaned, a sound that was equal parts surprise and pleasure, as his tongue swirled around the tip. He was tentative at first, as if testing the waters, but soon he found his rhythm, pulling me deeper into his mouth with each pass.
I closed my eyes, letting myself sink into the moment. It felt wrong, somehow—like I was crossing some invisible line—but at the same time, it felt so right. My hands instinctively reached for him, gripping the back of the couch as I tried to steady myself. But the pleasure was too intense, too all-consuming. I could feel my body tightening, every muscle coiling like a spring ready to snap.
“Fuck,” I muttered, my voice breaking. “Danny…”
He pulled back slightly, looking up at me with those big, curious eyes. For a moment, we locked gazes, and I could see the conflict in his expression. But he didn’t stop. If anything, he doubled down, taking me deep into his mouth with a skill that belied his apparent inexperience. His nose pressed into my stomach, and I could feel the vibrations of his breathing against my skin.
It was too much. I couldn’t hold back any longer. With a strangled cry, I came, my hips bucking as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me. Danny swallowed reflexively, his throat working as he took every last drop. When I finally collapsed back onto the couch, spent and breathless, he stayed where he was, his face still buried between my legs.
After a moment, he leaned back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He looked at me, his expression unreadable. “That was…” He trailed off, clearly unsure of how to finish the sentence.
“Fucking incredible,” I finished for him, my voice hoarse.
He nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah.”
For a few seconds, we just sat there, the silence between us charged with something I couldn’t quite name. Then, almost without thinking, I said, “Let me return the favor.”
Danny blinked, clearly caught off guard. “What?”
“You heard me,” I said, my tone firm.
I watched as he unfastened his belt and dropped his jeans to the floor, revealing his boxers. Without hesitation, I slid them down, exposing his hard cock. It was smaller than mine, but beautifully proportioned, with a slight curve that made my mouth water.
I leaned in, inhaling his scent—musky, male, and entirely intoxicating. Then, slowly, I wrapped my lips around the tip, feeling him twitch in response. Danny let out a sharp gasp, his hands clenching into fists as I began to move, my tongue exploring every inch of him.
He tasted different than I expected—tangy and sweet, with a hint of saltiness that made my own cock twitch in memory of what had just happened. I took him deeper into my mouth, savoring the way his hips jerked involuntarily as I worked him. His moans grew louder, more desperate, and I could feel the tension building in him, winding tighter and tighter until it exploded in a burst of warmth.
When he was done, we both collapsed onto the couch, panting and sweaty. For a long while, neither of us spoke. We just lay there, staring at the ceiling, trying to process what had just happened.
Finally, Danny broke the silence. “I should probably go,” he said, his voice small and uncertain.
I turned to look at him, my heart sinking. “Yeah,” I agreed, though the word felt like a weight in my chest. “Okay.”
He hesitated for a moment, as if he wanted to say something more. But in the end, he just got up and left, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
As soon as the door closed behind him, my mind went into overdrive. What the hell had just happened? Why had I enjoyed that so much? I’d always thought I was straight—hell, I’d never even considered the possibility that I might be into guys. But now… now everything felt different. Fuzzy. Confusing.
And then there was Danny. What did he think about all of this? Was he freaked out? Did he regret it? Or… did he feel the same way I did?
The next morning, I decided to check up on Danny, so I grabbed my phone, my fingers hovering over the keypad as I debated whether or not to text him. Finally, I decided to keep it simple. Hey.
But as the minutes ticked by with no response, I began to panic. What if he didn’t want to talk to me anymore? What if this ruined everything?
Just as I was starting to lose my mind, my phone buzzed. I snatched it up, my heart pounding as I read the message.
Can I come over?
An hour later, the doorbell rang, pulling me out of the fog of overthinking. My heart thumped in my chest as I padded to the front door in just my boxers and a ratty old t-shirt. When I opened it, there he was. His usual confidence was gone, replaced by this strange mix of hesitation and something I couldn’t quite name.
“Hey,” he said, his voice soft, almost shy.
“Hey,” I replied, stepping aside to let him in.
He slipped past me, and I caught a faint whiff of his cologne, something warm and faintly woodsy that I hadn’t noticed before but now seemed suddenly intoxicating.
We moved toward the basement in silence. When we reached the couch, Danny sat down first, leaving me to awkwardly perch on the edge of the loveseat, stiff and unsure how to act.
“So,” he started, his hands fidgeting in his lap, “about last night…”
I swallowed hard, my throat dry. “Yeah. About that.”
He glanced at me, his green eyes searching mine for something, though I wasn’t sure what. “I didn’t mean for things to get… you know, weird.”
“Weird?” I repeated, my voice cracking on the word. “Danny, it wasn’t weird. It was…” I trailed off, not sure how to finish that sentence without making it worse.
“It was good,” he said softly, almost under his breath. Then he looked up at me, his expression open and vulnerable. “Right?”
I nodded, my mouth suddenly too dry to speak. “Yeah. It was good.”
There was a long pause, the kind that stretched on so long it felt like time itself was hesitating. Finally, Danny leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and staring at the floor. “Look, I don’t know what this means, either. Like, I’ve never… I mean, I’ve never even thought about guys like that before, but then last night…” He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “And now I can’t stop thinking about it. About you.”
My pulse quickened, my skin prickling with heat as his words sank in. “You’re thinking about me?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
He nodded, still not looking at me. “Yeah. All morning. I kept wondering if I should text you, or if you’d hate me for what happened. Or if… if you even wanted to see me again.”
I bit my lip, trying to steady my racing thoughts. “I don’t hate you, Danny. I could never hate you. And I definitely want to see you again.”
Finally, he looked up at me, his expression a mix of relief and something else—desire, maybe? “Then what do we do now?” he asked.
I hesitated, my mind whirling. Part of me wanted to play it safe, to laugh it off and pretend like last night was some weird fluke. But the other part of me—the part that had been aching all day, the part that couldn’t stop replaying every second of last night in my head—was desperate for more. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “But… maybe we could figure it out together?”
His lips parted slightly, and for a moment, neither of us spoke. Then, slowly, he stood up and walked over to where I was sitting. When he sank down onto the loveseat beside me, I could feel the heat radiating off his body.
“Like this?” he asked, his voice rough now, his fingers brushing against my knee.
I nodded. “Yeah. Like this.”
He leaned in closer, his face inches from mine, and I could feel his breath on my lips, warm and sweet.
My heart pounded in my chest, my cock twitching beneath my boxers at the memory of his mouth on me.
He nodded.
Without thinking, I reached for him, my hand shaking as I slid it into the waistband of his jeans. He moaned softly as I found him, his dick already half-hard and warm in my grip. I squeezed gently, my heart racing as I realized just how much power I had in that moment. This was Danny—my best friend—and I was touching him, really touching him, in a way I never had before.
“Fuck,” he muttered, closing his eyes and tilting his head back. “That’s… God, that’s good.”
Encouraged, I tightened my grip, stroking him slowly as I watched his face, taking in every reaction. His jaw clenched, his breathing grew shallow, and his hips bucked ever so slightly, grinding himself against my hand.
“Keep going,” he murmured, his voice strained. “Don’t stop.”
The movie droned on in the background as Danny and I sat side by side on the couch, our shoulders almost touching.
I've known my friend Danny when we were in High School. We would all hang out together all the time after school and on weekends, play video games together and go on adventures, you know, just teenager stuff. Anyway, at the end of high school we both went to different colleges across the country for different reasons.
But after college vacations started, Danny and I both came back to our hometown for the summer.
I've been hanging out with Danny pretty much every day since we got back.
I live in my basement and usually he'll come over and we'll play games or watch tv or listen to music, and then he'll crash on the couch, go home in the morning and then come back over in the afternoon, rinse and repeat.
One night, we were watching a romcom.
The scene we were watching was laughably bad—cheesy dialogue, overacted sex scenes but arousing nonetheless. I found myself getting excited.
“Did you even get laid this year?” I blurted out. The words surprised me as much as they probably surprised him. It wasn’t like me to be so blunt, but something about the atmosphere had loosened my tongue.
Danny shifted slightly, turning to look at me. “No,” he said finally, his tone light but there was an edge to it, like he was sharing something he didn’t particularly want to. “You?”
I shook my head, feeling a strange sense of relief at his admission. “Nope. Same old, same old.”
The conversation lingered there for a moment, awkward but not unpleasant. Then, as if the dam had broken, we started talking about sex—or more accurately, the lack of it. It felt odd, confessing our mutual sexual failures to each other, but also kind of liberating. There was no judgment, no teasing, just two friends admitting they were human.
And then, without really thinking about it, I said something I never thought I’d say out loud. “You know… I’d really love to know what it feels like to have somebody suck my cock.”
My heart raced as I waited for Danny’s reaction, half expecting him to laugh or make some sarcastic comment. But he didn’t. Instead, he looked at me, his eyes wide and uncertain. Then, after what felt like an eternity, he stammered, “What if…” He trailed off, blushing furiously and he slipped onto the floor, between my legs.
My mind scrambled to catch up with what was happening. My body was buzzing with anticipation. All I knew was that I didn’t want to stop.
Before I could fully process what was happening, Danny was leaning toward me, his movements hesitant but deliberate. His fingers brushed against my jeans. I froze, unsure of how to react, but he didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he just didn’t care. Either way, he kept moving, unbuttoning my pants with a clumsy sort of urgency.
I let out a shaky breath as he freed my cock from my underwear, the cool air hitting my skin and making me shiver. And then, before I could say anything—before I could even think—his mouth was on me.
The sensation was overwhelming. His lips were warm and soft, and the way he moved them around my cock made my head spin. I groaned, a sound that was equal parts surprise and pleasure, as his tongue swirled around the tip. He was tentative at first, as if testing the waters, but soon he found his rhythm, pulling me deeper into his mouth with each pass.
I closed my eyes, letting myself sink into the moment. It felt wrong, somehow—like I was crossing some invisible line—but at the same time, it felt so right. My hands instinctively reached for him, gripping the back of the couch as I tried to steady myself. But the pleasure was too intense, too all-consuming. I could feel my body tightening, every muscle coiling like a spring ready to snap.
“Fuck,” I muttered, my voice breaking. “Danny…”
He pulled back slightly, looking up at me with those big, curious eyes. For a moment, we locked gazes, and I could see the conflict in his expression. But he didn’t stop. If anything, he doubled down, taking me deep into his mouth with a skill that belied his apparent inexperience. His nose pressed into my stomach, and I could feel the vibrations of his breathing against my skin.
It was too much. I couldn’t hold back any longer. With a strangled cry, I came, my hips bucking as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me. Danny swallowed reflexively, his throat working as he took every last drop. When I finally collapsed back onto the couch, spent and breathless, he stayed where he was, his face still buried between my legs.
After a moment, he leaned back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He looked at me, his expression unreadable. “That was…” He trailed off, clearly unsure of how to finish the sentence.
“Fucking incredible,” I finished for him, my voice hoarse.
He nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah.”
For a few seconds, we just sat there, the silence between us charged with something I couldn’t quite name. Then, almost without thinking, I said, “Let me return the favor.”
Danny blinked, clearly caught off guard. “What?”
“You heard me,” I said, my tone firm.
I watched as he unfastened his belt and dropped his jeans to the floor, revealing his boxers. Without hesitation, I slid them down, exposing his hard cock. It was smaller than mine, but beautifully proportioned, with a slight curve that made my mouth water.
I leaned in, inhaling his scent—musky, male, and entirely intoxicating. Then, slowly, I wrapped my lips around the tip, feeling him twitch in response. Danny let out a sharp gasp, his hands clenching into fists as I began to move, my tongue exploring every inch of him.
He tasted different than I expected—tangy and sweet, with a hint of saltiness that made my own cock twitch in memory of what had just happened. I took him deeper into my mouth, savoring the way his hips jerked involuntarily as I worked him. His moans grew louder, more desperate, and I could feel the tension building in him, winding tighter and tighter until it exploded in a burst of warmth.
When he was done, we both collapsed onto the couch, panting and sweaty. For a long while, neither of us spoke. We just lay there, staring at the ceiling, trying to process what had just happened.
Finally, Danny broke the silence. “I should probably go,” he said, his voice small and uncertain.
I turned to look at him, my heart sinking. “Yeah,” I agreed, though the word felt like a weight in my chest. “Okay.”
He hesitated for a moment, as if he wanted to say something more. But in the end, he just got up and left, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
As soon as the door closed behind him, my mind went into overdrive. What the hell had just happened? Why had I enjoyed that so much? I’d always thought I was straight—hell, I’d never even considered the possibility that I might be into guys. But now… now everything felt different. Fuzzy. Confusing.
And then there was Danny. What did he think about all of this? Was he freaked out? Did he regret it? Or… did he feel the same way I did?
The next morning, I decided to check up on Danny, so I grabbed my phone, my fingers hovering over the keypad as I debated whether or not to text him. Finally, I decided to keep it simple. Hey.
But as the minutes ticked by with no response, I began to panic. What if he didn’t want to talk to me anymore? What if this ruined everything?
Just as I was starting to lose my mind, my phone buzzed. I snatched it up, my heart pounding as I read the message.
Can I come over?
An hour later, the doorbell rang, pulling me out of the fog of overthinking. My heart thumped in my chest as I padded to the front door in just my boxers and a ratty old t-shirt. When I opened it, there he was. His usual confidence was gone, replaced by this strange mix of hesitation and something I couldn’t quite name.
“Hey,” he said, his voice soft, almost shy.
“Hey,” I replied, stepping aside to let him in.
He slipped past me, and I caught a faint whiff of his cologne, something warm and faintly woodsy that I hadn’t noticed before but now seemed suddenly intoxicating.
We moved toward the basement in silence. When we reached the couch, Danny sat down first, leaving me to awkwardly perch on the edge of the loveseat, stiff and unsure how to act.
“So,” he started, his hands fidgeting in his lap, “about last night…”
I swallowed hard, my throat dry. “Yeah. About that.”
He glanced at me, his green eyes searching mine for something, though I wasn’t sure what. “I didn’t mean for things to get… you know, weird.”
“Weird?” I repeated, my voice cracking on the word. “Danny, it wasn’t weird. It was…” I trailed off, not sure how to finish that sentence without making it worse.
“It was good,” he said softly, almost under his breath. Then he looked up at me, his expression open and vulnerable. “Right?”
I nodded, my mouth suddenly too dry to speak. “Yeah. It was good.”
There was a long pause, the kind that stretched on so long it felt like time itself was hesitating. Finally, Danny leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and staring at the floor. “Look, I don’t know what this means, either. Like, I’ve never… I mean, I’ve never even thought about guys like that before, but then last night…” He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “And now I can’t stop thinking about it. About you.”
My pulse quickened, my skin prickling with heat as his words sank in. “You’re thinking about me?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
He nodded, still not looking at me. “Yeah. All morning. I kept wondering if I should text you, or if you’d hate me for what happened. Or if… if you even wanted to see me again.”
I bit my lip, trying to steady my racing thoughts. “I don’t hate you, Danny. I could never hate you. And I definitely want to see you again.”
Finally, he looked up at me, his expression a mix of relief and something else—desire, maybe? “Then what do we do now?” he asked.
I hesitated, my mind whirling. Part of me wanted to play it safe, to laugh it off and pretend like last night was some weird fluke. But the other part of me—the part that had been aching all day, the part that couldn’t stop replaying every second of last night in my head—was desperate for more. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “But… maybe we could figure it out together?”
His lips parted slightly, and for a moment, neither of us spoke. Then, slowly, he stood up and walked over to where I was sitting. When he sank down onto the loveseat beside me, I could feel the heat radiating off his body.
“Like this?” he asked, his voice rough now, his fingers brushing against my knee.
I nodded. “Yeah. Like this.”
He leaned in closer, his face inches from mine, and I could feel his breath on my lips, warm and sweet.
My heart pounded in my chest, my cock twitching beneath my boxers at the memory of his mouth on me.
He nodded.
Without thinking, I reached for him, my hand shaking as I slid it into the waistband of his jeans. He moaned softly as I found him, his dick already half-hard and warm in my grip. I squeezed gently, my heart racing as I realized just how much power I had in that moment. This was Danny—my best friend—and I was touching him, really touching him, in a way I never had before.
“Fuck,” he muttered, closing his eyes and tilting his head back. “That’s… God, that’s good.”
Encouraged, I tightened my grip, stroking him slowly as I watched his face, taking in every reaction. His jaw clenched, his breathing grew shallow, and his hips bucked ever so slightly, grinding himself against my hand.
“Keep going,” he murmured, his voice strained. “Don’t stop.”