This series of short stories is dedicated to all you lonely guys who wait and wish for some bombshell to fall into your sex lives. Until it does, there's always Miss Mary and her five sisters. Just remember the old Army answer to the question of "How's it coming?" is" "Mostly by hand." As it usually is.
So, if sex between men offends you, please read no further or you will be offended garanteed. These stories are hot. If you like what you read, I love to get feedback from my readers, so don't hesitate to e-mail. I try to answer all e-mail I get.
Enjoy, Stony
Best Buddies
When My best buddy Dave's wife kicked him out of the house, he called me and asked me if he could spend the night at my place. I was a little hesitant, because we were old friends, since third grade, and although he knows I'm gay, he doesn't have any idea how much I'd like to get him in a lip lock. I guess I've been in love with him since I was a kid. Now, at twenty-four, he wants to lay temptation in my lap.
"Look Dave, can't you and Gena patch things up? I mean you're welcome to stay at my place man, but you know I've only got one bed, and I'm queer for you in a big way." He laughed, like he usually does, and asked about my sofa.
"It's a friggin' love seat. You'll be dead by morning with a broken neck." He laughed again, and then told me he didn't think Gena was willing to kiss and make up this time. He'd spent their vacation money on a new bass boat.
"So fuckin' butch Dave. You make my dick hard just thinking about it. I wouldn't blame Gena if she dumped you over it. What better grounds for a divorce...Yer Honor," I imitated Gena's drawl. "The jerk spent my vacation money on a fuckin' bass boat. Now I ask you madam judge is that anyway to run a marriage?" He was howling over the phone, and when he calmed down, I told him to collect his jammies and teddy bear and come on over if he had to.
He rang my bell about half an hour later, and I was startled to see, he had the beginnings of a shiner rising on his right eye. I took him in tow, and headed for the kitchen. I dabbed at the painful bruise with a damp cloth, and then wrapped some ice in a dish towel, and showed him how to hold it over the eye.
"You poor man, married to such a vicious bitch." Gena had to be all of five feet, but obviously a spitfire in the ring. Dave's a husky six foot two, and was the star fullback on our high school football team. "You're a pussywhipped mushpot if you ask me." I popped the tops on two beers, and slid one across the kitchen table to him.
"Thanks Bud." He drank, and seemed to deflate like a hot air balloon loosing its gas.
"What did she hit you with? A skillet?"
"Her damn fist. It might be little, but it packs a wallop."
"I can see. You might lose the vision in your right eye," I joked. He winced a bit, and moved the ice pack to a different spot. "So sweety, it's over between you two?"
"I'd say it's been a long time coming. She wants kids and I'm not interested. The bass boat was just the thing that brought it to a head. Looking back on it, I knew it was going to cause a blow up when I bought it. I guess it was just my way of addressing the problem. The fact is, I don't believe I love her. Can't even figure out if I ever did."
"Well, I thought you two should have waited a bit longer. There has to be more to a relationship than the fact you both like chocolate dipped Dairy Queens." He chuckled again, and swallowed some beer.
"Well, here's the skinny Bud. She wouldn't let me have my jammies, and she cut my teddy's head off, and threw him in the furnace. Truth is, I'm beat, and could crash on your living room floor right this minute."
"Well come on then, I'll lend you a pair of my silk undies. You like pink or blue?"
"You have blue silk undies?"
"For days when I'm feeling butch. You won't see me running off and spending forty dollars on a bass boat. Blue panties do the trick for me." He chuckled again, and I showed him to my bedroom. I helped him out of his shirt, and dropped it into my dirty clothes hamper. His Doc Martins came off his feet, and I put his tube socks with the shirt.
"Now your pants, if you dare. I reached for his belt buckle, and he just lay on the bed watching me with his one good eye, and a little grin on his face.
"I'll bet you've wanted to do this to me for years," he said, and I looked up as I pulled his pants off his legs.
"Is it that obvious?"
"I've thought about it a time or two Bud. Maybe more than a time or two."
"Really?"
"I've wondered what it would be like to make it with you, but I've always thought we were best buddies, and sex might throw a clinker into the mix."
"Dave..." I didn't know where to begin. "I don't know if we should continue in this vein. I mean, I've thought of you as my best friend since we were kids. You've always been straight. Straight with me, straight with everybody around here as far as I know. Now you're telling me you've thought about making it with me?" He nodded, and motioned me up next to him on the bed. I sat down next to him, and put my hand on his chest. I could feel his big heart beating under my palm.
"Truth is Bud, if I look at what I think love is. Then what you and I have together, qualifies. What Gena and I had, was just an arrangement, a convenience, to keep up the family values thing. Something I never really cared about. What I cared about most all this time, was you. It was your opinions I valued, not Gena's. It was you that made me laugh when I was down, not Gena. You're the one I turn to when I want to have fun, a good time, not Gena. I'm just facing facts about myself. The truth is, I love you."
"My god, she's rattled your brains. You sure it was her fist?" He grinned.
"Are you listening to me?" I had tears burning in my eyes, trying my damnedest to stop them from falling. He reached up and pulled me over on top of him, and I melted across his chest into a sniveling idiot.
"Cut that out Bud. This is something to be happy about." He knocked me beside the head gently with his fist.
"That's soo butch sweety," I said, sitting up and drying my eyes. His big chest, covered with hair made me feel protected somehow, but I knew if this got out, even a hint of it, we'd both be tarred and feathered.
"Now, can we go to bed? I'm bushed." I pulled his dirty underwear off and slid them down his legs. I dropped them into the hamper with the rest of his clothes. and asked again if he wanted pink or blue.
"How about neither Bud. You never know what might come up."
"That's what I'm afraid of," I said, picking up the hamper and heading for the laundry room. I put his clothes in to wash, and went to the living room. I fixed myself a drink and went out onto my back deck to wait for the wash cycle to finish so I could put his things in the dryer before I went to bed. At least he'd have clean clothes to wear to work in the morning.
I have to say that sitting there on my deck, watching the moon sail across the sky almost full, and the stars winking and twinkling up there, I wrestled with several demons. I loved Dave, and always had, but he was my best friend. He'd stood by me through thick and thin, even when, after I realized I was queer. He'd taken my coming out in stride. I remembered the night I told him, that it mattered more to me that he know the truth, even if it destroyed our friendship. He knew first, before my parents did even. He'd acted a lot more civil about the news than my own mother and father had. I loved him for the three dozen roses that had arrived at the house the next day after my old employer had canned me when I told him. The card, which I still cherish in my scrap book said; "It doesn't matter. Love Dave."
I finished my drink, and went to transfer the wash to the dryer. He was snoring gently, curled up on top of the bedclothes when I got back to the bedroom. His strong masculine body naked in the dim light was at once attracting to me and yet I felt a fear of the future if something should happen that he'd have second thoughts about later. His flower card message floated through my mind again, and I whispered to myself, it doesn't matter.
I undressed, and naked as he was, I climbed in beside him, afraid to touch him or awaken him from his exhausted sleep. I curled on my side, and feeling the effects of the Scotch I'd drunk, soon drifted off to sleep.
Sometime later, I turned, and straightened my body, until I was laying on my back, and my turning caused him to adjust his position, and he snuggled closer to me, and I awoke with his body touching me full length, and his strong arm laying across my chest, and his face nestled in my neck. It felt wonderful and I drifted again in a dreamy state of what ifs.
Dawn was just around the corner, and a few mockingbirds were trilling in the trees, when I next became aware. Dave was squeezing me to him, and nuzzling my neck. We were front to back, and I could feel his hardon sliding gently in my crack. At first I thought he was still asleep and dreaming, but when his hand wandered down my chest, stroking and touching, to grip my own hardness, I realized it was me dreaming. This couldn't be happening.
"Dave," I whispered.
"You awake Bud?"
"What are you doing?"
"I want to make love to you."
"Oh Dave. We can't. Think of..."
"Shush Bud. Just tell me what I need to do." I turned to face him, and examined his handsome face in the glow of dawn coming through the windows. I took his face in my hands, and kissed him long and deep. He returned everything he got from me in spades, and when the kiss was over, I knew I couldn't wait. I took a condom from the night stand, and rolled it down his perfect phallus, long and thick. The lube was cold, so I warmed it in my fingers before sliding my greasy hands up and down his length. He moaned a little, and after I'd slicked the way in myself, he mounted me in the only position he knew. I guided his hardness into me, gasping at his pleasure and kissing his eyelids.
He lay on me for a long moment, his hair under my chin smelling masculine and sweet. I tightened my sphincter on him, and he moaned, raising his head to look into my eyes. He began to take short strokes into me, and I used my muscles to increase his pleasure. His strokes increased in length, until his ten inch cock was sliding out nine, and back in nine. His speed was still slow and easy.
"Dave," I whispered. "You can't hurt me. Let your passions go. Make love to me like you dreamed of." He raised up on his elbows, and looked into my eyes. His hips began to rock his big tool a little faster, and he began to get a rhythm to his thrusts.
"Oh man," he hissed. "This is like nothing I could have imagined. What are you doing to me with your muscle ring?" His pace increased, until he was thrusting into me at a speed I'd seldom experienced, and before either of us knew what was happening, my cock buried somewhere in friction between our sliding bodies, convulsed and my cum tube pulsed again and again, pouring a flood of my semen as a lube between us. The odor of fresh cum was heady, and the increased slickness between us, excited him, and my ass muscles tightened like a vice on his thrusting cock, and in a flash, he was where he wanted to be.
I felt his big cock expand in my body, and the contractions of my sphincter, gripped his pulsing flesh tube, and I could feel him emptying himself into my guts. The spot his heated passion created in me was a warm place I'll always treasure, so far inside, no one can ever take it away. He collapsed on my chest, and his tongue licked my right nipple. Gradually, his member subsided, and too soon, he slipped from me with a sad Bronx cheer.
While he showered, I ironed his work clothes, and had them waiting for him after he'd shaved. I made him a pot of coffee, and eggs and toast, and while he ate, I fixed him a brown bag lunch. He kissed me hard and long on the mouth, with plenty of tongue, and said he'd see me later. I watched him climb into his pickup and drive off to work.
I scurried around, and got myself off to work, and spent the day wondering and reliving the wonderful thing that had happened between us. I felt like it was all a dream, I realized I'd wake up, and he and Gena would have patched things up, and nothing would be said about our interlude, and things would go back to normal levels of desperation, but we'd all survive what would become known in time as the bass boat incident.
By the end of the day, I was exhausted, and ready to go home and soak in my hot tub. I stopped by the grocery store, and picked up a steak, and a baking potato, and in the liquor department, bought a new bottle of Scotch, to replenish my dwindling supply. I drove home, put the things away, and turned on the heater for my hot tub, and made myself a drink. I stripped and got into the tub to soak my cares away, dreaming of the love my best bud had made with me that morning. I must have drifted off to sleep, because, I woke sometime later, with the stars shining over head, and the big full moon just beginning to rise, and the sound of an old Ford pickup pulling into my driveway.
End