Some months had passed since the incident I had last related- Rob, my best friend, had discovered that I was gay, and had been very upset; not upset at my sexuality, but, rather, at the fact that I'd lied to him for so many years- and I had. Not just lies of omission, but complete and utter lies; over the years I had made up many stories about sexual exploits with women, often trying to outdo his stories in the same category. Rob and I were very close, and told each other everything, down to and including the specifics of our sexual activities.
As it turned out, Rob had forgiven me and asked only that I not go too into detail in the future; in other words, he wanted to stay just as close as we'd always been, implying that I could still tell him about my sexual exploits, with men, as long as I didn't cross some sort of abstract boundary- whatever `too much detail' meant for him. Later that night he crossed his own boundary and kissed me in the barn after we'd finished fishing; we almost had sex but things became too real for him and he backed out. He confirmed to me that he was straight- in other words, what had happened never happened.
So we forgot about it, drew a line under it. We continued to be best friends and nothing changed; until the day I propose to relate to you now. This day, I'd decided to test the boundaries, to see exactly what `too much detail' meant to Rob; clearly he cared for me as a friend and wanted as little to change as possible. I'd hooked up twice since that night, and hadn't told him about it- the opposite of what he wanted. He'd said he wanted us to be able to tell each other everything as we always had, this time with no more lies. So on this day I decided to test the waters so to speak, to see how our dynamic might change or stay the same moving forward.
On this particular day we were in his truck, the same beat up, old, brown bronco that I detailed last time- the one he'd bought years ago as a teenager. We were going on up to Walmart to buy some camping gear, having decided to go camping this fall like we did every year- it was now or never, before the weather got too cold for camping.
Rob drove along the long, potholed road that lead from my house, in the middle of nowhere, up to the one road town where all the stores and restaurants were; this particular road was pretty long as I was pretty far out, and there was nothing to do, or even look at, just a winding road sandwiched between miles of trees. I turned down the radio.
"So, I was gonna tell you about the other night. Finally got to hit this dude I'd been talking to."
There was silence for a minute, I observed Rob's face; he stayed neutral but I assumed he must have been attempting to collect his thoughts and feelings, decide how to respond. After a few more moments he replied, trying his best to talk the way he always had.
"Nice! Was it good?"
"Yeah, it was. We were both drinking but when we finally hooked up he acted like it was the best sex of his life."
He was quiet again and I feared I had gone too far, but
"Nice, dude!"
I changed the subject quickly, scared I might fuck up what had thus far been a pretty good advance in the way things were. By the time we got to Walmart I was in a great mood, feeling like I'd finally overcome a barrier, even if it was only a psychological barrier I'd self-erected. Despite the extremely brief nature of the exchange, I felt as though Rob and I were closer than ever, as though the anxiety I had been building up over the situation had been expelled, and was now cleaned and thrown away. I was looking forward to our camping trip- like I said, we did it every year, and it was always fun. After the way things had worked out in the car I had the idea that there was no way I could ruin things now. I may have been a bit too optimistic; there's always a way to fuck things up in real life.
We got the things we needed to go camping (we needed a new tent, the one we usually used had been too well worn for new usage), including a new pocketknife that Rob wanted. In fact, it seemed like every other time we went to the store he bought a new blade- he was an avid collector of knives and daggers.
We drove out and parked at our usual spot- there was a place in the woods where people would go to camp, along the largest part of the local lake (the same one that runs behind my house), including log houses, but we only used the parking lot itself, and would trek some ways into the woods to go camping- we liked to feel along, at one with nature; it definitely brought out the inner man.
This time, unfortunately, we had a problem erecting the tent. Like I said, it was new and we didn't know exactly how to do it. After nearly an hour of attempts, Rob sat down in exasperation, leaving the thing half put up. I sat down at his side, laughing.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Nothing, just... fuck it. That's all. Just fuck our lives."
He smiled. I thought he looked handsome when he smiled, his lips stretching from ear to ear, his blue eyes bright as the setting sun glanced off of them, but I did my best to ignore the thought, to let it slip from my mind- these aren't the sort of thoughts you have about your best friend, even if he is handsome as hell. His smile turned into a laugh and I did my best to laugh as well, although I was really laughing at the incredulity of my own situation. Camping in the woods with one of the hottest guys I knew, and not only was he my best friend therefore off limits, but he was also straight- straight and had tried to fuck me in the ass the night I came out to him. The irony was mind baffling.
To top it off, I just want to add that Rob and I look incredibly similar- like, incredibly. So many people have asked us if we're brothers, and we really do look like brothers. We're both fairly fit (I'd say he's a little stronger and works out more often), not too tall, not too short (probably around 5'9) and typical country dudes. We both have brown hair that we keep short, big ears, suntanned skin, bulldog noses, and big lips. I know it's weird to add that last part in, but it's true. One of the biggest differences between us is that I have dark brown eyes while he his deep blue eyes. Again, I'm trying my best to ignore his appearances and stay objective.
Before the sun set, we did have the tent up, although it may not have been exactly the way the manual instructed us to get it up- but we had to sleep somewhere, and as things got darker we got more desperate and finally got the damn thing up. We lay inside the tent, on top of our sleeping bags, slicked in sweat after having so quickly and arduously gotten the tent erected at last. Rob rolled his jeans up to his knees to cool off, laying back down and taking off his shirt. I remember thinking that he was definitely stronger than me, with more well defined muscles, and I'd better work out more before he got too ahead of me. I also remember having an irresistible urge to jerk off, but I tried my best to ignore it.
When your best friend is hot you do your best to ignore it, for the sake of your friendship; this was made exceedingly difficult by the memory of my straight best friend kissing me in the barn, pushing me up against the rough, wooden wall, his stubble scratching against my face, jerking me off, taking out his cock and spitting all over it, trying to fuck me and, failing, walking away, leaving me unfulfilled. In fact, it was kind of unfair that he could do something like that to me, awakening, or opening a possibility that I had never entertained as graspable, and then snatching it back. Maybe it made things even- after all, I had lied to him my entire life.
"What?" came his gravelly, exhausted voice. I was confused.
"What... what?" I asked.
"You're staring at me." Was his response.
"I'm not... oh, well, I was just thinking."
"Thinking about what"
"Just about... stuff." Was my pathetic response. Rob leaned up, propping his head up with one arm, facing me. He almost looked like a greek god with the last of the sun setting, illuminating him from behind, sweat drying on his tanned skin, his arm muscles bulging as he propped himself up, his chest uneven, his hairy legs revealed by his rolled up jeans (I guess that last part isn't very classical). It certainly didn't help matters. I could feel the very beginnings of an erection starting in my own jeans and was doing my best to think about anything other than the image displayed right before me but that is not exactly the easiest thing to do.
"What stuff? Thought we told each other everything" he said in a joking tone. I didn't much feel like joking. My boner was growing and I didn't know how to hide or stop it without turning around which would almost certainly arise suspicion. I was trapped. My mind immediately went back to the feeling of him pushing me up against the barn wall, `trapping' me between his hands. It didn't seem to help matters for some reason.
"We do, Rob. I just, was thinking. About-"
What I was thinking about now was how to hide my boner without his noticing and my cache of ideas had a concerning paucity.
"About what, Ken?" He laughed, exposing his straight, white teeth. That grin did it for me, I don't know why. My erection poked straight up out of my jeans and I turned around as quick as humanly possible and pulled it up between my waistband in order to hide it from view, then turned around to face him, sitting up and putting my shirt on to make sure my head wouldn't poke out from the top. I smiled at him, but he didn't but it. He was laughing, laughing very loudly. I knew he'd seen.
When Rob finally stopped laughing he just looked up at me with a grin and those big, blue eyes, and asked me the question I knew he was going to ask me,
"Did you just hide your boner?" and went back to laughing. I said nothing, as I really felt there was nothing to say.
"Dude, are you hard right now?"
I gave a thin laugh. I wanted to turn the situation into something funny, somehow alleviate it, but I had no idea how. I shook my head around. Rob sat up.
"You're hard right now. You're literally hard." He sounded more serious now, and wasn't smiling. I felt... scared. I didn't want to ruin things. I'd already been scared, once, that my sexuality would ruin our friendship. I thought that fear had been overcome, but maybe it was still lurking- maybe it would never really go away. Maybe that fear of my sexuality ruining things would exist forever, between me and everyone.
Rob smiled. He put his hand on his pants, to my surprise, and started to rub his crotch. He smiled again, it looked oddly out of place, I couldn't place the expression behind the smile. He reached over and turned on an electric lamp, to illuminate the tent, as the sun was almost completely gone now.
Obviously, throughout this, my own erection was growing. I couldn't just watch him rub his crotch and not get turned on. I put my hand inside my pants, pulled my shirt back over my hand, and started to slowly rub my dick inside of my pants.
Rob bucked his hip upwards, pulled off his pants. He was only in his boxers now. White, with green strips, for those who were wondering. His hard cock was straining against the constriction of the boxers, begging to be freed. I was staring now, really staring. I wanted him to free his dick from its prison very badly, but felt I had no room to talk, hiding my own contribution behind a shirt and pants. So I did what he did, took my jeans off. I kept my boner hidden within my grey boxer-briefs, shirt on top.
Rob, however, was wearing no shirt, and I could see his muscles rippling as he slipped his hand inside of his jeans and jerked his dick off, following my example. I looked up at his face, just for a brief moment, and observed that he was watching my crotch the same way I was watching his. I felt satisfied that what was happening was exactly what I thought it was.
I, daringly, took my shirt off, exposing the head of my dick but keeping the rest of my erection hidden within my briefs, straining to escape. I could hear Rob breathing heavily, I looked up at him and his face was red with passion; He pulled off his boxers, and quickly, to expose his rock hard cock, standing triumphantly from a bush of brown pubic hair. I immediately felt my libido shoot up, took my shirt off, and my boxers in rapid succession. I was fully naked and masturbating in front of my best friend- a straight guy nonetheless- whom I'd known my entire life!
Rob glanced up at my eyes, he had that expression of I-don't-know-what, once again; maybe it was carefulness, or hesitance. Either way, his masturbation did not stop, only slowed down. I wanted to suck his dick so badly but I remembered his refusal the last time I made that effort and so I didn't try. I simply continued jerking off, going faster as he slowed down. I moved my eyes to his cock, watching his large hand continue to move up and down, up and down over his large veiny cock and his bulging dick head; going down further to caress his nut sack, back up again, travelling the length of his wide cock, and back up again to his fat head. My eyes continued to stay on him, gazing upon his muscular body, the line of brown pubic hair that lead from his overgrown bush up to his belly button, his small nipples that were surrounded by a small sprinkling of hair, his muscular arms that sometimes revealed the hair bursting from his armpits- Robert was sexy, there was no doubt about that. I wanted to fuck him so bad, or rather, I wanted him to fuck me, but there was nothing I could do about it. I'd have to wait for him to make the first move like last time and pray to god he'd either let me suck him off or that spit would be enough to get him inside of me because I certainly hadn't brought lube on our manly camping trip. No idea why the idea hadn't entered my mind.
My eyes went from his tones arms up his neck to his face. He had shaved since last time. I wanted to kiss him again. I looked at his eyes; he was fixated on my dick so I went even faster. I played with my balls. I kept looking him in the face while he kept looking at my dick. I tried to transmit my thoughts to him. I wanted him to fuck me. I wanted him to kiss me.
Suddenly he grunted. He looked down, I looked down. He had blown his load already, all over his sleeping bag. No lie, it was a rather impressive load, definitely more than I could shoot, but I had hoped for it to be thrown down my throat rather than on a piece of canvas. He smeared it into his sleeping bag with his hand. I went even faster and came as well, moaning as I did so.
After cumming, my erection remained; clearly I was ready for more action, but Rob was not- his boner was completely gone (I did note, however, that he was still bigger than me soft, just as he was hard- his dick still looked huge lying down in his overgrown pubic bush)- he grinned at me, short of sheepishly, as in he looked embarrassed. Hopefully it was over the fact that he'd rubbed his cum into his sleeping bag.
"I guess that was weird." He said. I cleaned my excretion up with my shirt. I had brought another.
"Nope," I replied, "not weird. It's whatever."
"I mean, I am straight."
"I know." I said, nonchalantly. I looked at him, keeping a neutral face, letting him knew I took him seriously. It didn't matter to me how he thought of himself, nor whether he saw himself as experimenting, bicurious, whatever else you want to call it. He was my friend so if he called himself straight that was fine by me.
"Yeah." He looked away from me as he said it.
"Dude, it literally does not matter. I don't think you're gay. Didn't you just have sex with a girl like a week ago?"
"Yeah." He looked back at me and grinned.
"Well then you're not gay."
"Yeah." He said, one last time, this time grinning at me. He got into his sleeping bag (now ornamented with a glaze stain on top). I looked away from him, getting in mine.
I turned the light off.