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Chapter 2
Digging deep in a test of mental fortitude, I try hard to keep my mind off the video Kyle and I had... starred in last. I was put in a tight spot financially, and that's how I try to rationalize it, but I'm constantly bombarded by reminders of how perfect and wet his mouth felt as it engulfed my cock. Gargh! Like I said: I try. And try. And I try some more but I fail every single time. Awake or asleep, my brain kept conjuring up the image of Kyle spread out flat on his bed, spit-slick lips the color of the juiciest cherries and his eyes shimmering like the sea that you could only find while on some tropical island.
He was the picture of sin but also the picture of sex.
My rational brain still can't comprehend why I am still so hung up on him, I mean the blowjob. I've had dozens of them before but in the last few weeks I've been so utterly touch starved that I'd practically been celibate sans the vow. Anything looks good when you're hungry, you know?
Okay, let's get to the point.
Having someone else (even if it was a guy) service my cock was both nice and welcome but it didn't move the foundation of my sexuality in any way. I'd say that's a fair observation. Also, I did it out of necessity and not desire. Just stating that, so case closed.
After I call a recess on my very own internal libido committee, I push my thick navy sheet aside and stretch my arms, then my legs and finally my back, revelling in the feeling as I let out a gigantic yawn before sinking back down into the soft mattress.
My room is still mostly dark, save for the little beams of golden light that are cutting through the cracks in the blinds. It's Saturday morning so no class today, I remind myself as I run my hands down my face. It's also the morning after Kyle sucked my dick.
Ah fuck! There I go again! My dick stirrs again in my basketball shorts. I don't even need to lift my head to look down at where my dick is pointed up at the ceiling, restrained only by the black material prison.
Should I rub one out quickly?
I consider this for a moment but I ultimately decide against that particular course of action. Not when I need to piss and definitely not when thoughts of my very male best friend are still circulating fresh in my mind. I'm not gay, I tell myself like I need a reminder of this fact.
When the stiffness of my member finally becomes too much for me, I push myself out of bed and make my way over to my bedroom door and pull it open, careful not to make too much noise. The apartment's silent, save for the occasional clattering of some utensil or beep of whatwver apploance. I glance quickly into the kitchen, spotting Kyle who has his back to me, presumably busy with the coffee machine as he goes about preparing his breakfast.
A pit forms in my stomach. A small one, mind you. Didn't he hear the sound of my door opening? I mean, sure I was being careful to not make too much noise in case he was sleeping but the hinges could do with some oil. Maybe he had airpods in or perhaps he was just deep in thought. Why did I want him to notice me? I didn't know but I couldn't stand the fact that he was still probably pissed or whatever and wanted to ignore me.
I don't allow myself to dwell too long on that and continue on my original mission of getting to the bathroom. Maybe him not hearing me was actually better. I would have rather he not see me with a giant tent in my shorts. Despite us both being guys and it happening to him as well, it would've still been kinda embarrassing.
After pissing, washing my hands and then splashing some water on my face, I steel my nerves for mine and Kyle's impending face to face. Kyle looks up from his bowl of cheerios as soon as I enter the kitchen amd offers me the obligatory 'hey' before diverting his gaze and shovelling another spoonful of the cereal into his mouth. I mumble out an awkward greeting of my own as I head over to the cupboard for a bowl, mindful to keep my eyes from wandering to those sinful pink lips of his.
So that sorta confirmed my suspicions, didn't it? The greeting was a bit off and like... he didn't give me his trademarked crooked grin. Hell, he didn't even look me in the eyes when he greeted me. Was his thoughts all caught up in twister like mine was? Maybe he was having conflicting feelings about last night's shebang too. I guess in a way I wanted him to so that I wasn't the only one, but on the other hand I didn't want this taking a toll on our friendship.
I try glancing over my shoulder discreetly, just barely catching Kyle's eyes returning quickly to the bowl in front of him. He's always been somewhat of a proud person so there's little to no chance that he'll be the one to offer an olive branch here. Looks like it will fall to me to play peacemaker.
I take my time pouring my milk, thinking of a way to open up a channel of communication. I turn around, scratching absently at my slightly furry chest and walk over to the kitchen table, throwing myself down unceremoniously onto the empty seat across from him.
A loaded silence falls over us like a blanket. Only the occasional crunch from one of us chewing or a siren in the distance pierces the palpable tension. Kyle pointedly avoids making any kind of eye contact or any attempt at conversation. He doesn't make any attempt at leaving either, which does confuse me a bit.
Are still pissed at me for what I said. Or how I said it?
It's a question that rests on my tongue, but I'm still too much of a chicken shit to verbalize my thoughts and the last thing I want is to kick off some kind of confrontation with Kyle that early in the morning. Sitting there, I try and think of something, anything to say. Eventually, with nothing to lose and the expectation of being shot down anyway, I lean forward and ask, "you excited for the game?"
Hockey has always been a go to and even now it hasn't let me down!
Kyle looks up at me through his lashes. His lips are parted as he stares for a beat, most likely formulating a calibrated response before he drops the spoon against the side of the bowl. "Who are we playing?" he asks eventually, referring to the Islanders.
"Capitals," I answer with as calm a mask as I can conjure despite my heart rate increasing slightly. He's talking to me, that's a start.
"Not really," he shrugs, clearly contemplating the possible outcome of the game. "Not liking our chances."
"We're still going to watch it together though, right?"
There's an almost indiscernable hint of desperation present in my voice, not easily recognisable to someone who doesn't know me well. The worry, however, isn't as well hidden and I feel almost like an idiot for getting so worked up about this, but what if he says no? There's some hesitation in his ocean-blue eyes, an intangiable sign that he's likely to decline, but it's gone almost as quickly as it appeared. "Sure."
"Cool," I say, exhaling in relief as the tension slowly leaves my shoulders. For a moment there I was actually worried that he would say no, how crazy is that? Hockey was our thing and being from Columbus, I thought Kyle would be a staunch Blue Jackets fan, but that assumption had been dispelled pretty early on and the two of us were able to bond over our shared love of the Islanders. Why we actually like the Islanders when the Rangers are the more popular choice, well that was an enigma wrapped in a condundrum. We also just liked the underdogs.
Anyway, watching the team, our team play had become something of an unspoken tradition for the two of us. It had become something so intrinsic in how relationship that I shuddered to think what would happen if that tradition were to ever unravel. Worst case scenario? The Sun explodes and Earth gets knocked out of orbit, drifting onto deep space.
"Hey Nathan?" Kyle's voice pulls me out of my ludicrous line of thought.
"What's up?" I ask, my voice gentle as I lift my eyes to look at Kyle. His brows are tightly knit, and his expression is one of deliberation but also hesitation. I give him a small smile as sign to continue.
"The money from the video..." he starts then licks his lips before looking over to the other end of the kitchen. "I can wire it you this afternoon, unless you need it sooner or something. I dunno"
My eyes track the movement of his tongue, well aware of the pleasure it could bring. A shiver runs down from the base of my skull down to my cock. Now's not the time, I admonish myself.
"The mon- Oh, yeah! Wire it whenever. No rush," I get out hastily. Whereas the issue of money and rent had plagued my mind not even 24 hours ago, I had, for a brief time at least, totally forgotten about the money. And even the video.
The fissures in our friendship that seemed to be developing had been on the forefront of my mind since last night and I could think of nothing else but looking for a way to try and patch all these cracks. Well that's a lie. I thought about the blowjob too, though it's not a matter of discussion right this moment.
However, the reminder of the cash (and by extension the video) while being a red-blooded, college-aged male... Well, the lizard part of my brain kicks into overdrive and my dick starts chubbing up even while sitting there at the kitchen table. Inconvenient didn't scratch the surface of description. My fucking hormones were running rampant and not even my regular trick of visualizing some saggy granny tits were extinguishing the fire that had suddenly been ignited. I felt like I was in purgatory but I still sent up prayers, begging for a window, an opportunity to escape.
Kyle's phone vibrates on the table right at that moment, almost dancing in the way vibrating phones usually do and captures his attention. I quickly and covertly adjust my semi so that it's resting against my thigh rather than standing at attention like a damn general saluting the president. It's a temporary solution, purely a stopgap measure meant to buy some time while I try to get myself under control. If I don't, I'll be sitting here across from my roommate with a full blown boner and no real explanation about why it just suddenly 'sprouted'.
With that dreaded thought in mind and the sincere hope of avoiding the possibly embarrassing situation of Kyle seeing my cock at full attention, I quickly slide my chair back and high tail it back to my room. I can feel Kyle's questioning look burning into me as I walk, but I don't look back.
I lean my back against the cool door once it's firmly shut behind me, exhaling in sweet relief as the tension slowly drains from my burning body like water running off the leaves of a tree after the rain. I look down. My hand is still grasping my firm dick, the sensation of being touched there, even by myself, sending a hot streak of fire throughout my entire lower region. I tighten my grip then relax, teasingly stroking my shaft over the fabric. A low groan bubbles up from my throat as my legs buckle a bit beneath me.
It feels good and I'm so fucking horny right now.
I hook my fingers in the waistband of my shorts then shove them down my legs quickly. The garment pools around my ankles and I step out of them before making my way across the room to my unmade bed, my cock bobbing and swaying with each step. I lay down, my legs buried beneath the sheet but the rest of my body remains exposed. It becomes uncomfortable after a bit, my legs feel like they're stuck inside a furnace, so I kick the sheets lower to the foot of the bed. Getting more comfortable, I pinch my nipple lightly for just the tiniest bit of stimulation before it continues it slow journey across the plains of my stomach and down to my stiff, throbbing length.
With my hand now lazily stroking my member, I lean over to my end table and retrieve my forgotten phone. Even with the little pre-cum I spread over the head, it's still too dry for my liking, the friction flirting almost with pain so I spit on my hand and lather my pole with saliva, repeating the action once more so that my length is nice and slick. The glide is definitely better but I really need to remember to pick up a bottle of lube or even some lotion when my finances next allow because I don't really see this cutting it the next time.
Navigating quickly to my extensive list of bookmarked web pages, I select the last video I watched on CumHub then rotate my phone for a full screen view. The scene opens on a busty blonde girl wearing a skimpy outfit. She's making out with a muscled dude who gropes her ass a few times before she's suddenly sliding down on to her knees and stroking the guy's hard, veiny cock in her hands. Who needs porn with the unnecessary plot, bad acting and all that shitty dialogue. Get straight to fucking!
My eyes trace over the girl's body studiously but with her still being clothed, it's hard to really note any of her features except for her nips that are peaking through her top. The guy, however, is naked as the day he was born and I find myself inadvertently raking over each contour and crevice. His body is mostly just well defined muscles with a trimmed patch of hair over his pecs and above his dick.
The woman licks tentaviely over the head a few times as she strokes him from head to base before the camera suddenly changes angles, almost giving his POV as he looks down in the girl's eyes. Dark brown. Not the blue that was imprinted in my mind.
The blonde's hand grips around the guy's erection as she leans down and finally sucks the large plum-shapes head into her mouth.
"Mghm," they both moan.
My hand, as if suddenly becoming autonomous, slows its strokes unexpectedly before teetering to a complete stop. The camera zooms in as the guy's shaft fucked in and out of the blonde's lips with slick ease, pushing through the tight ring. What should be a really hot close up that drives me closer to coming seems to have the contrary effect, because my cock starts flagging.
The fire in the pit of my stomach flickers as if resisting a strong wind. It perseveres but it's heat had dwindled substantially.
What the fuck is happening right now? A few nights ago this video had me cumming twice in the span of a few minutes and now I could barely keep it up. It's like a race car that had been driving at 300 km/h before tumbling off the road while taking a sharp turn.
"Grgghh," I push my head deeper into the pillow, as my phone, or rather the video lay practically forgotten in my limp, open palm. I have to actively resist the urge to groan out in frustration at the apparent impossibility to get off. What the fuck is going on with me right now? I ask myself, as the spark progresses to the beginnings of a firestorm.
Closing my eyes, I try some breathing exercise in an effort calm my racing heart. It helps, well kinda. I deperately need that injection of whatever drug jerking off brings. Oxytoicin? Seratonin? I don't know. I'm not a med student, okay.
If porn isn't going to work then I might as well just go with an alternative tried but tested method I used on and off since I was 12. That method is fantasizing.
I try making myself more comfortable as I conjure the image of Tessa Chatmon, a girl I went out with a couple times in my mind. In all honesty she was kind of a shitty person, but had a rocking fucking bod that just would not quit it. And her blowjobs?
Man, they were phenomenal!
There was this one time she blew me in the parking lot of our local Wendy's. The added danger of someone catching us was exhilirating, but the way her hair hung like curtains over her face as she swallowed me down was what had me going.
My hand travels from head to base then back again.
I still remember the way I threw my head back against the rest and tangled my hand in the silky strands, pushing her further down until her nose was buried in my pubes. My huge cock was spearing the back of her throat with each thrust of my hips while my nails dug into her scalp.
The sound of her gagging alone could've tipped me over the edge, but no. I wanted to SEE how wrecked she was so I look down and...
It's not her long dark brown hair anymore but the lighter, fearthery soft chestnut strands that belonged to none other than Kyle.
My eyes fly open and my dick is now pointed up at the ceiling as I cupped my balls, worried that too much attention too fast would make this end too soon. That car that had burned out before is suddenly roaring back to life and taking off down the track. I don't even allow the shame of now fantasizing about my male bestfriend to cloud my conscience. It probably couldn't even if it wanted to because it just feels too good.
But it still doesn't feel like it's enough.
Right now, having just the mental picture is like paddling with a single oar. It feels like I'm only going in circles with no clear destination in sight. I, on the other hand DO have a destination, a goal in mind and that goal is cumming like a fucking waterfall.
That's not going to happen with just a fantasy though.
But what if I check Kyle's FanFavorite for the video of us...
No! That is a step to far. Using my imagination is one thing but what my head, or should I say what my cock is suggesting is way out of pocket. I can overlook the whole slip up of him making a cameo this time and just say it's horniness, not the onset of insanity.
It's like my mind is made up of two different fabrics of two different colors, wholly incompatible yet sewn together. My resistance gets worn down with each second that passes so eventually I acquiesce and end up logging into my Fan favorite account, one handed.
After typing Kyle's username into he searchbar the results come up. There are like fifteen suggestions but the profile picture is unmistakable. It's Kyle standing with his phone pointed at the mirror, shirtless and pulling the waistband of his navy blue American Eagle Boxer briefs down, flashing his V line and a little of his trimmed pubes for the camera.
I hesitate briefly, lick my lips then go through with my subscription. What? The little change I have in my account won't be missed once Kyle wires the money, so I'm good. Besides it's not like I'll stay subscribed or anything. Part of my motivation was checking out what kind of comments we'd revceived on the last video provided he hadn't made them private. It's a transparent lie, an attempt at rationalising an irrational decision.
The video we did sits at top of his page. My thumb hovers over the video but something beneath it catches my attention. Something that leaves me feeling dried out, light headed. Like all the blood in my body rushed to my dick.
It's Kyle lying on his bed, his body twisted so that he's looking over his shoulder and his athletic, muscular ass is pointed toward the camera as a large purple dildo rests between the valley of his succulent cheeks.
Good Lord! Has Kyle made it his personal mission to ruin me or am I in the process of self-destructing?
I click on the thumbnail with the intention of enlarging it. Sue me, I'm curious and want to take a closer look, but instead it takes me to the actual video instead. My hand has stilled on my dick as my thumb hovers over the play icon situated in the middle. I shouldn't, I shouldn't, I shouldn't plays on loop in my head like a mantra, but my will is weak amd the pad of my thumb hits the screen.
The video opens on Kyle, leaning back on his bed. He's spreading his long legs, baring his hole - all tight and pink - -to my ravenous eyes. It's already gleaming with a hint of lube, and one of Kyle's big fingers is barely pushing past the tight ring, teasing and tempting his viewers as much as he's teasing himself.
This is whole new side to Kyle that I'm seeing; all rosy cheeks and lush lips parted wetly--with a finger in his ass, staring out from my phone. Of course I'd been aware or at least gotten an idea of what sort of hijinks Kyle got up to when in the privacy of his room but imagining and seeing were two vastly different things.
But now that the image was actually burned into my retinas, and well.... Fuck!
"I feel like such a little slut." Kyle moans out through my phone speakers, and hearing him say that in a wrecked voice has a hot tightness building in my groin. It has me gripping my cock tighter, stroking it with renewed vigour.
Kyle spreads his cheeks to show his hole again, slightly puffy - most likely because he's been stretching himself - and glossy with lube. He picks up the large purple dildo and teases his entrance with the head.
"This should be you!"
Everything I say now is the result of pure horniness and therefore inadmissable in court, but damn if I don't agree. I want it to be my cock so badly. I want to wreck every inch of him then paint that face with my cum.
Enraptured, I watch as the dildo finally enters Kyle's ass with most obsecene squelch while slick trickles down the length of it. It looks like Kyle used so much lube that he's sloppy with it.
"I'm so wet for you."
The screen transitions to a shot of Kyle on all fours, chest down and ass up, hot puffy pink hole on glimmering display. Between his legs, the soft curve of his balls and his cock, oozing precome from the head, complete the vision of masculine surrender. He is positively drenched with lube, muscular thighs slippery-looking, asshole dripping on the comforter as he peeks coyly over his shoulder.
Kyle spreads his legs wider, pushing his ass out a little more, whimpering softly. "Please! Breed me!"
I speed up my hand as Kyle starts pistoning the dildo in and out of his soppy hole. It was almost like I was trying to match pace with him, imagining it was me fucking that hole. I can't lie, even as I tried half-heartedly to picture myself fucking a wet pussy, my eyes kept returning to Kyle's hole - the way his fingers wrapped around the fake purple dick and the way the lips of his ass spread open around it's girth as it sunk deeper. My cock responded, becoming like steel beam in my hand as I continued to stroke.
The moans from the video were getting louder, Kyle's whimpering harmonizing with my own soft moans as if the two of us engaged in a sex frenzied duet.
I knew it couldn't be long before he shot. I wasn't that far off, either.
He removes the dildo and tosses it to the side before taking a hold of his thick cock. He pumps and pumps while his hole winks at the camera. Watching this tableau of sex personified was getting me close.
This was the second time that Kyle was going to make me cum and I couldn't give less of a fuck that he was a guy.
One stroke.
Two strokes and my stomach tightens. My balls churn while try and take a cut off breath that sounded more like a grunt to my ears. I thrust my hips upward into my tight first before I start going off like a firewor. One rope, two ropes, three ropes. I continue stroking as more cream oozed out of my slit and down onto my head and shaft.
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