Fulfilling A Fantasy

Fulfilling A Fantasy By: Journeyman Harper (JourneymanHarper@yahoo.com) No copyrights, no infringements, names substituted to protect the innocent.

Unfortunately, this story did not work out in reality, but oh did I wish that it had! Although the first part actually took place (with a little embellishment) nearly twenty years ago, I have been living with this fantasy nearly every day since then. Full kudos to "Pierre" for holding us together.

--

Part I - The Chase

Pierre and I were panting for breath. HE was gone. His lean frame had run off into the night, hair streaming behind him, looking like he was bent on flying by sheer speed. Paradoxically, he was a track runner. Track was the reason for his sleek sexy self. But when one wants to catch him, track is NOT an asset. And his "asset" was perfect as it quickly retreated.

Pierre and I looked at each other. "We've got to grab him somehow." He nodded, unable to speak still. I'm in better shape than Pierre, but Pierre is straight so to me it doesn't matter.

Our moving target was Rolf. Rangy, drop-dead gorgeous Rolf. Rolf with the incredible hormones that affected him as well as everyone around him. Rolf with the deep brown eyes, quirky smile, and just plain magnetism that encompassed him with that "I am sex" aura. I was certainly feeling it!

Right now Rolf was wicked drunk. One of the highlights of a college education is building up a tolerance to alcohol by partying. Pierre drank, and got humorous about everything. I would drink and get quiet until some threshold was achieved, and then I would follow the first suggestion made to me. Usually it was "she's cute, go talk to her." They never realized I was gay.

Rolf would drink and start hitting on girls. He almost always ended up with one. If he didn't he was quick to reduce the experience to "consorting with dogs" or some other comment. And then start on the next one. And the next. When you went to our college, you had to have some persistence because there weren't many girls around. Not that that bothered me!

Pierre and I looked at each other again. He finally said, "Look, he can't get through the Estate because it is fenced off. He's got to go around and up to the quadrangle. We can catch him there."

Pierre was right. It was five below zero, snowing, and Rolf had bolted out of the party so drunk he had left his coat and stuff behind. The thought of Rolf running for the pure joy of running made me have a raging hard-on, but even though I can appreciate the thought, he was going to likely do something stupid. We ran up the Hill to cut him off.

It worked. He ran between the buildings and before he could stop Pierre and I grabbed him. "Rolf, what the fuck are you doing!!" Pierre asked.

"Running."

"Running where?"

"Just running."

I could see his nipples harden in his shirt. Jeez!

Pierre rolled his eyes. "Why were you running?" I demanded.

"Felt like it."

"It wasn't that girl, was it? The one with the NIN shirt?"

Rolf grinned and then broke away. We tackled him in the snow. Just as well, because Rolf passed out. He had had more than ever before to drink.

"He's totally plastered." Pierre was disgusted. Besides being the stable one of our close-knit trio, Pierre was Rolf's roommate. Believe me, NOTHING ever went on between them that was the slightest bit gay. Which is why this is so right in the telling.

We brought Rolf back to the dorm. He was completely dead to the world. Carrying him had been exquisite torture, as Pierre and I propped him up on our shoulders. He was light enough I could have cradled him. But there was Pierre to deal with.

Pierre was in a unique position. I had known I had gay interests for years, since before high school. I had had one friend that we had explored a very little bit together, but that ended past elementary school. I had never acted on it, ever since then, to anyone. I had scraped together a prom date (which failed miserably) and gone on to college. Now a junior, with Rolf a sophomore and Pierre a freshman, we had formed the best friendship ever. That is, except that Rolf's gangly self turned into that hot wiry rangy walking erection-producer. I had once confessed my interest in Rolf to Pierre. He couldn't understand. In a way, no one could. I wanted Rolf to feel good, really sexually good! I wanted him to cum and cum and scream MY name as the reason! Was that too much to ask?

Apparently so. I suggested that Pierre hint to Rolf that I might be gay. I don't know what transpired, but nothing happened. Kind of a blessing, except that now the knowledge was there, it tainted everything. And still Rolf didn't say anything. At the worst, I would boil with frustration and fury at one of my best friends for not acknowledging my needs. Even if it was a negative response, I needed to know that he knew. Something had to break.

--

Part II - Actions and Reactions

Anyway, Pierre was in a unique position. He wanted to go back to the party. The cover had been expensive, but worth it. Pierre knew that Rolf was vulnerable and I was so incredibly horny. It might have been an opportunity missed except that someone had drenched Rolf's clothes in liquor.

"Pierre, he reeks. We've got to get him out of these clothes."

Pierre looked at me. "What are you going to do?"

"Me? I am going to get him out of his clothes."

"And then?"

"What?"

"You know he doesn't wear underwear."

That sealed it. I hadn't known. Conscious or not, Rolf was going to be mine.

"Pierre, we are all best friends. Do you really think I would hurt him?"

He looked at me, rubbed his eyes, and sat down hard on the floor. "Does butt-fucking hurt?"

"Without proper preparation, of course! I've read all about it." Then it dawned on me. "You think I want to fuck him."

He regarded me somewhat hesitantly. "Don't you?"

I lost it. The drink, the pheremones, the aching need and being so close all let go. "DAMN IT PIERRE, DIDN'T YOU LISTEN TO A THING FROM LAST TIME? All I want to do is be the reason that he cums!! This isn't about MY getting off, it's about me being the one to get HIM off!!" I start pacing. "Why is it that the moment the word 'gay' comes up, it's either fairies or cramming dicks into asses?"

"Jeez, you said that loud enough!" Pierre, always the self- conscious one. "Isn't it though?"

"NO!! It isn't! It's about pleasing someone you love! It just happens to be Rolf."

Pierre stood his ground. "Promise me you won't."

"Won't what?"

"Won't rape him, asshole!"

"NEVER! I promise NEVER to rape him. What do you think I am?"

Pierre had the guts to look amused. "Horny as hell. And drunk."

"Fuck you."

"Not by you, thank you very much."

Now, I know that he believes me. It is torture, but Rolf isn't going to be mine tonight. May as well give in. I turn to Rolf. "Rolf, as Pierre is my witness, I vow never to make you cum and cum and cum until you scream in ecstasy." Turning back to Pierre, I manage a somewhat lopsided aristocratic bow. "Satisfied?"

Pierre is quiet, then, "Yes." But something is going on back there. He turns his back to me and states matter-of-factly, "I'm not kidding that he has no underwear on. His sleep shorts are under the pillow. I'm going back to the party."

"Good luck!" I am grinning from ear to ear. Pierre finally grins, and says, "Hey, I can't stop you from wanking yourself silly over this whole thing. Just don't do him!" And with that he left.

--

Part III - Fleeting Encounter

Rolf was propped up on the floor. Simple objectives: get his shirt off, get him in his bed, get his pants off, cover and say goodnight without drooling too much. This was going to be hard.

I began to unbutton his shirt. As I worked my way down, his smooth chiseled skin and frame slowly revealed itself. With a little work from behind, his shirt was off. I lingered there with my hands on his bare shoulders for a minute (or maybe an hour).

I pulled him into the bed and got his head on his pillow. That was harder than I thought. But, God, his ass was perfect through his jeans, and I couldn't help but linger.

Finally, the moment. I steeled my self, undid his buttons and gently pulled the jeans off. Would you believe that he was half hard? His cock laid down on his abdomen, twitching slightly, and slowly lifted itself off his skin. Rolf was getting excited!! It was all I could not to grab it and milk it for its life!

I carefully covered Rolf over with the sheet. He still tented it up. I never fully realized the impact of a tented bed sheet on a man. Squeezing my eyes shut, I kept telling myself, "I vowed, I promised, I promised I wouldn't."

"I release you from your vow."

What the fuck? My eyes slammed open and I looked around for Pierre. He wasn't here. But Rolf had pushed down the sheet, fully exposing himself in all its wondrous glory.

His eyes squinted slightly. "I release you from your vow."

My heart nearly stopped. "You won't regret it."

I knelt in front of him. This was not going to be about love, or affection. This was about pleasing him, MY pleasing him. He lay there, on his back, legs somewhat apart, and I placed my left hand gently on his warm, smooth chest. He gave a little gasp as I slowly stroked one nipple first, then the other. My hands are quite large, and so stretched across his chest for both at once. I placed my right hand on the back of his thigh, slowly creeping up his leg to cup that butt cheek. I was giving him every chance to back down, but desperately hoping he wouldn't.

I don't know what he was thinking, but his cock told me what he was feeling! It grew so long and hard it must have been eight inches. I hadn't ever seen anyone's hard cock close up until now, but there it was. I left his chest and moved closer to my ultimate goal, running both hands down from his waist to his thighs, over them and then back up the inside and across, over and over again.

Rolf gave a mighty shudder. I then realized that he was breathing hard. It was time, and I was brave enough. I gently stroked the base of his cock. The moan that escaped him was beyond caring, and I stopped thinking and just did what I wanted for so long. I began a slow up-down motion with my hand, my other hand switching from massaging his butt to holding and stroking his balls. Moistening my lips, I gently kissed the top of his desperate cock.

He groaned even louder and longer, and so I slowly pushed his cock past my lips and onto my waiting tongue. My first cock, and it was Rolf's!! I was about halfway down when he started to cum.

He let out a shriek, and convulsed his whole body up off the bed, pushing his cock deeper into me for that moment of exquisite tension, and then started pumping huge loads of cum into my mouth. I just swallowed it - I couldn't do anything else, I didn't want to do anything else! Eight times he spurted his hot thick cum into me, and I just kept taking it and rolling my tongue over the rest of his cock. Even when he was done, he didn't soften and I slowly relaxed and pushed down until his entire cock was in me. A little wiggle while down rubbed my nose in his hot curly hairs, and sent another loud groan out of him from the motion.

Rolf gave a final shudder, and went still. His breathing slowly became deeper and longer, and his wonderful masterpiece in my mouth began to soften and return to its at-rest state. I had sucked down all his cum, and as he left my mouth I made sure that nothing was left. He had passed out again.

I felt great. I had done it - I had made my best friend scream in pleasure, cum in gobs and it was all because of me! Smug, somewhat wondrous, and a bit "now what?" I covered Rolf over with his sheets and sat back. He smelled wonderful! He looked so incredibly hot, relaxed in sleep. Years of wanking in front of me on this one. If only he would . . .

What? I realized I was still a bit drunk too. I was hoping for more. Lightning doesn't strike twice in the same place, and I would have to be satisfied with what I had had. It had been awesome, the feeling of control, and being the cause of my godlike friend's ecstasy. Lost in desire, lost in what might be fantasy, I kept wandering off.

We might have spent a couple hours like this, except for two things. Rolf had gotten a hard-on again. And he never sleeps on his back. He rolled over, his knee brushing me in the process, and got stabbed in the gut by his own cock. He woke up, and I was greeted by his sleepy luxurious perfection.

"You still here?"

"Yes. I've been drinking too, remember?"

Rolf nodded. He looked away. I watched as I slowly saw the miracle fantasy begin to crumble. Rolf began to look sheepish first, then he would look at me, and his hot smile would fade. He would look away again.

"Rolf, don't do that. No one will ever know."

He regarded me again, almost afraid. I felt the tears spring burning into my eyes. I never cry; I wasn't going to here either. But you can't stop the tears from coming.

"Besides, you can always explain anything away as being drunk at the time. No one would doubt it." Much as I hated it, I thought he needed a lifeline. "Even Pierre doesn't know."

Wrong.

"Jean, you've got it all wrong. I heard you and Pierre, and I was so desperately horny that I couldn't keep you away. Tonight, that's what I wanted and I thought it would take care of it all." He looked away again. "I gave Pierre a `get lost' look just before he left." He grinned suddenly. "I wanted to see where this would take us."

It was if the sun rose never to set again for me. Warm, tingly and just plain good inside. Even though I wanted to rush over and hug him, let him know I was OK, he is not demonstrative.

Rolf looked back at me. "Did you really like that? Knowing that there was no way I could return the favor?"

Did I LIKE it?! Stammering first, then rushing on I told him, "There has never been a better, happier moment in my life than feeling you cum long and hard into me and knowing that I was the reason it happened." Deep breath. "It'll be a long time before anything comes close. We are the most excellent of friends. Who knows, someday maybe we'll be in this position again and just that once you will need what I so enjoyed doing and have been dreaming about since we met."

Silence, then from him: "We may, we may not. Right now, though is now." He rolled back over on his bed, and to my surprise his cock is tenting the sheets again. Lust totally brushes over me again. Very quietly, he says to me, "I think you missed a spot."

"Oh, Rolf!" And this time, after ensuring that nothing was left to chance and no skin neglected, he came intensely on my tongue after a sustained and thorough worship of his magnificent cock and whatever else I could reach. I didn't fuck him, or go anywhere near his butt-hole, but I didn't need to.

In all the years that I knew him, he only made one reference to that night. The three of us were in a bar, a week before Rolf's wedding. The topic had come around to Pierre's latest exploit, and Rolf's history. Rolf made one comment only, saying to me, "She's great, you know, but you could teach her a thing or two about cock." Pierre rolled his eyes, and I blushed to the roots of my hair. Rolf just grinned.