This is a true story, modified to protect the anonymity of those involved and simplified to enhance the narrative's flow.
Reader feedback is welcomed, and the author will do his best to answer questions and respond to comments. Contact him at hairy.jacques@yahoo.com.
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"Anything you want," Part 4
Midway through my final semester, I had landed a great job about 500 miles away. He was still waiting tables but toying with the idea of applying to grad programs. The good thing we had going was coming to an end. He was my best friend. I really loved him. I was excited about the future, but I was going to miss him something awful.
My family was set to arrive on Tuesday night, four days before graduation. He had Mondays off and made it clear he had something special lined up. He said he'd pick me at 6 p.m. and that I should dress nicely. Around 5:30 I showered, shaved, and decided to wear my best pair of khakis and a nice dress shirt. I even put on a little cologne. I saw his car outside and went out to greet him. He had on dress pants and a form-fitting silk golf shirt that really showed off his pecs. "So what's going on?" I asked as I lowered myself into his passenger seat.
"Tonight," he said, "is your graduation present."
We pulled into the parking lot of the best steak house in town. He gave his name to the maître d', who found our reservation. We were seated in a quiet corner of the restaurant. I couldn't believe it. We didn't often eat out together, and when we did it was usually Wendy's or the local Mexican place. But now we were seated at a table for two, complete with cloth napkins, a candle, and more utensils than I'd seen since my high school prom.
He ordered a really nice bottle of Cabernet. "You're getting whatever you want tonight," he told me after the waiter had departed with our drinks order. We split calamari as an appetizer and we both decided on some really nice filets. The conversation flowed as smoothly as the wine. Every once in a while I caught myself staring into his eyes for a bit too long, or noting the outline of his nipples through the silk of his shirt. He was wearing cologne, too. It smelled so good. Get a grip, I told myself: we're not on a date. But that's what it felt like. When I got lost in his eyes, he held my gaze. His foot was gently touching mine under the table--maybe nothing, maybe something. Also, he kept paying me compliments. Not just about the job I landed or how well I'd done on my senior thesis, but about me as a person.
My favorite compliment this one: "I want you to know that you're the most giving, most unselfish friend I've ever had."
After dinner, he started driving back to his place. "Won't I need my car?" I asked.
"I figured I'd let you stay over tonight," he said. There was a pause, and then he chose different words: "If you don't mind, I'm happy to drive you home tomorrow. Twenty-four hours from now your family will be here and a week from now you'll be gone. Let's make the most of the time that's left."
"That sounds good," I said. It didn't take long to get his place. I was glad because I didn't know what else to say. Was tonight going to be different somehow? It didn't have to be. I loved our routine. Part of me didn't want anything different. But maybe there'd be more. I didn't want to get my hopes up, but I couldn't help getting lost in thought about the things we might do.
We got to his place. He'd clearly spent some time cleaning. It hadn't looked so good since right after he moved in. "I picked up some beer," he announced, opening the refrigerator door. Usually at his place I contented myself with Bud Light, but now he was fully stocked with six packs of all my favorites. "Tell me what you're drinking and then have a seat on the couch." That's where I usually sat. He usually sat in his favorite armchair, but after uncapping two bottles he sat right next to me on the sofa. It was a big piece of furniture, but he was sitting less than a foot away.
I thanked him for the beer. Then I looked him in the eyes. "Why all the fuss?" I asked. "You didn't have to do all of this."
He smiled. "Like I said, you're my very best friend, and tonight's your graduation present."
It was clear that my present wasn't just the great steak dinner. It was the whole evening. I probably could have moved things forward right then and there. He looked so hot. I loved his face, his eyes, and his strong jaw. His tight golf shirt really showed off his torso, and now there were sexy damp spots at his armpits. He was tall, and right next to me he seemed even bigger. But it was still early--only about 8:30 p.m. And I was enjoying all the attention. "What do you want to watch?" he asked.
It didn't take long to come up with an answer. "A River Runs Through It," I said. We'd seen it before together, he owned it, and it was one of my favorite buddy movies. He popped the tape into his VCR. The next time he got up to bring us beers he dimmed the lights a little bit. He went from sitting close to me to sitting so that his body was touching mine. He put his right arm over my shoulder, hugged me, and left it there, maintaining the physical contact. I could feel his warmth and the subtle but intoxicating scents of his sweat and his cologne. Of course my cock was throbbing.
I got up to use the bathroom. It took me a while to piss through my erection. When I returned to the couch I noticed two fresh bottles of beer on the coffee table. I also saw that he was sitting sideways. His back was against the armrest and his leg was extended across the length of the couch. He'd kicked his shoes off. I decided to do the same. "Have a seat," he said, patting the sofa between his legs. I did. "Lean back," he said. I relaxed against his chest. His strong arms closed around me as my head rested on his shoulder. For a long while we sat like that. I loved the feel of the stubble of his cheek touching and tickling my ear. A few minutes later, his hands landed on my shoulders. He started to knead them and rub my neck. "Let's get this off," he said while unbuttoning my shirt. I got goose bumps feeling his fingertips brush the skin of my chest. He pressed me forward as he massaged my back. It felt so good.
"That feels amazing," I said, "but you don't have to."
"I know I don't have to, but you deserve it." Then he repeated what he'd said earlier in the evening: "Tonight is your graduation present. You're getting whatever you want."
It was a night I'll never forget.
He rubbed my back all the way through the end of the movie. I was putty in his hands. We stood up to toss away the empty beer bottles. In the kitchen, I confirmed: "Whatever I want?"
He pulled me close to him and looked into my eyes: "Anything you want. Everything you want." I hesitated for a second, then turned my lips up toward his. He leaned down to kiss me, gently first but then with more intensity. I parted my lips and his tongue slid between them. I know it was "just" kissing, but to me this felt like the most intimate thing we'd ever done. I could feel the stubble of his chin brushing against my own as our tongues made love inside our mouths.
Our hands were all over each other. I slowly pushed up his shirt to feel his abs and then his pecs. His nipples were hard so I grazed over them with the tips of my thumbs. I felt his hand rubbing my dick through my khakis. Then he started unbuckling my belt. He unbuttoned my pants and lowered the zipper, pushing his hand inside my boxers to gently stroke my cock. When he glanced down to watch his fingers do their magic he noticed something else. "My boxers!" he said, a big smile spreading across his face.
I blushed, remembering the camping trip. "I like to wear them on special occasions," I admitted.
"You chose a good night," he said. He took a step back. "Let's go to the bedroom," he said, pulling me by the dick up the stairs.