It had been a long week. And a tense week. And an unfulfilling week. And...
Well, if I'm going to tell you this story, I might as well just come out and say it from the very beginning - it had been a sexually frustrating week. My computer was on the fritz, which was getting in the way of my release mechanism: accessing hot content on the Internet to fuel my overactive imagination and, well - well you know where that leads. You're reading this hoping to get there right now. Am I right ?
Before you start thinking I'm some greasy old pervert who's only sexual release is cyber-perving, let me set you straight. (That's funny - straight. Who would want to be completely straight ?) I'm a 25 year old professional in a medium sized American city. I guess you could say I'm upwardly mobile (and outwardly horny). And while I'm not involved in a serious relationship at the time, I've had my fair share. Girls I've come close to marrying. Guys I've enjoyed moments of sexual release with. The whole bit. I have a large group of friends - some from work, some I've picked up other places. But, they are definitely just friends. We're out having dinner and a few drinks most nights - but that's where it always ends.
It's not that I'm unattractive: 6'2' - average build but just a bit on the thin side - black hair and green eyes. I wouldn't say I was the perfect living representation of Michelangelo's David, but if you were to plop ole David in a suit and tie, make him tall and athletic enough to play some basketball every now and then, and turn him into a corporate climber in corporate America, you'd have me. (If you looked closer, you'd see the defined pecs and abs accented with nice, dark, well manicured hair that forms a treasure trail just below my navel leading to the package that is part of my true inheritance from the previous generations. 7 1/2 inches cut, a bit wider than most - and with a well defined head that always gets positive comments from those who encounter it - together with two average size but always heavy accessories.) It's also not that I'm unattracted to the guys and girls I hang out with - quite the opposite. Things just never develop the way they did in high school and college. But that's another set of stories.
As you can tell by my ramblings so far, I am into sex in a big way. I wouldn't call myself bi - I don't like or believe in labels. I do plan to get married and raise a family one of these days. But, truth be told, I understand the primal desire for sex regardless of the partner's gender. It's one of my most treasured gifts. There are a hand full of "close" friends who share this understanding and with whom I often take care of nature's calling. But it had been several weeks since that had paid off.
Normally, that wouldn't be a problem because I have a tremendous imagination and a catalog of the most incredible masturbation techniques in the world. But I've got to have something to get me going, and this week - as I said before - my computer was on the fritz.
Anyway, back to the story.
On Thursday evening, I was hanging out at my place when a friend stopped by. Andy and I had been friends for a while. We met through another guy I work (and sometimes play) with who had known Andy since high school. (My ex-girlfriend and I used to have some fun with this co-worker on occasion, but that's another story.)
Andy was a great guy. Lots of fun. Liked to hang with the ladies. I'm a basketball kind of guy, but Andy prefers soccer. We'd sometimes get together and kick a ball around a bit, and I always noticed the way he filled out those silky green Umbros of his. We often went out together scoping for chicks - and a couple of times had a been very successful duo on the prowl.
As our friendship developed I realized he was open to the necessity of getting his rocks off from time to time when the ladies weren't around - and often didn't want to do it alone. He was also one of the most erogenous people I've ever known.
This particular night Andy decided he was going to have a little fun.
Since there was nothing on TV, Andy decided to pop in a movie. "Let's watch something from the 80's," he said. "I'm feeling nostalgic."
"Take your pick, man," I offered as I was mixing Andy a drink. "Just make it something hot. I'm dying to catch a good nut."
"All right, all right," Andy chuckled knowingly. "Let's see..."
Andy walked over to my tape collection and kneeled down to take a look. He always looked like some J. Crew model and tonight was no exception: Hunter green V-neck sweater over a stark white T-shirt. Tight Italian jeans cut to show his gift. Andy looked almost Mediterranean. Jet black hair cut short and always a bit spikey, and piercing black eyes to match. His skin was bronze year round. And, since it was his natural tint, there were no tan lines to unexpectedly end this coloration. I noticed one night (while we were nailing some hot blond co-ed we'd picked up) that his skin tone is perfectly even from the base of his neck, down his back, across his ass, and all the way to his ankles.
Andy was a bit shorter than I was, but built much better. Perfectly defined everything - arms, legs, chest - everything. And his face was absolutely gorgeous. Strong jaw line, perfectly proportional nose and chin - and a mouth that was just sensuous to look at. When he smiled there are these awesome dimples that form just beyond the corners of his mouth. Not cute dimples. Sexually awakening dimples. You know the kind, ones that make you get just a little fuller in the crotch. Not hard - just fuller.
"Come on already - it's not rocket science to pick out a flick." I was getting impatient, and my horn-e-meter was off the scale.
"I've got it. Sit down and close your eyes - I want this to be a surprise." I would have been agitated, except here came those dimples. "Come on - close your eyes," Andy smiled as he lit a couple of candles spread around the den and turned off all the artificial light.
"This better be good," I mumbled, closing my eyes and hoping - no praying - that Andy would surprise me with more than a movie before the night was over. That's when I heard the music from the video start. And the train rumbling in the background on the soundtrack. I knew what he had picked out in an instant.
Oh damn! I can't sit all the way through 'Risky Business' tonight. Out loud I moaned. "You know how hard up I am, man. If we're going to watch this I'm going to have to get a little more comfortable."
By now Andy was standing right in front of me - his crotch at eye level. I stared straight into it, smiling myself. I'd seen what lay beneath those jeans. I could smell the nice scent that was always there - not musky like a lot of guys, but a clean, refreshing smell. Like Nivea body wash. I knew what every inch of the basket I could see before me represented underneath. This little protrusion here was Andy's head - even better defined than my own, and noticeable even when he's completely soft, as he was now. The upper part of the bulge showing the gentle curve of his shaft around his balls, packed away as it always was in these jeans, being bound only by the denim, because Andy wore boxers. And just below the bottom of his zipper, where the seam that runs from the front to back rides, I could see the roundness of his balls. Larger than my own, and just barely covered with silky hair. Andy always wore tight jeans so that the front-to-back seam separated each nut from the other just slightly, and accented the roundness of each one - not noticeable on casual inspection, but standing with his hips slightly thrust forward as Andy was, I could see this detail very clearly.
Thrusting his hips a bit more forward he raised up just enough so I could see where the curve of his balls started back up underneath, marking the completion of his sack's low hang. "That sounds like a good idea," And said. "Tell you what, if you help me out of these jeans you can get comfortable too."
I know you might think it strange that Andy would be speaking as if I needed his permission to get comfortable. We're not into any sort of master/servant thing at all. It's more subtle than that. Andy knew I was in one of those moods, and that I wanted us to share some pleasure. He always had a bit of the upper hand in these situations because if I didn't play along he could decide he didn't want to play along either. It wasn't a teasing thing, or even a noticeable "thing" at all. It was just there.
Of course, I was ready to more things along. So, reaching out for Andy's belt, I quickly undid it and placed my fingertips on either side of the top button to start undoing his jeans. When his hands gently touched mine, and his cool fingertips brushed along mine, I began to feel the first stirrings of my erection.
"Let's make this interesting," Andy said. My erection began to grow a bit more.
"You help me out of these jeans. But there are two rules. First, you've got to take it as slowly as possible. Second, if I get even the slightest erection, game's over and we watch the Billy Graham crusade on channel nine."
Fuck ! I can't say I dislike these experiments of Andy's completely, they just always come at the worst times. I'd already undressed him in my imagination and we'd shot huge loads. Twice in the last minute. Now I'm supposed to take it slow?
But the excitement got the better of me, and in case you've not figured it out yet, I'm as into completely limp dicks and their full grown brothers. As a matter of fact, in high school I had a friend that I always made get completely soft before I would even begin to go down on him.
"You suck, you know that ?" I said, smiling.
"Yes. And if you play the game right, you might get to return the favor tonight." There was those damned dimples of his again. In my pants, I began to notice the first small drop of pre-cum form at the tip of my not-fully-complete erection.
Taking a drink of vodka and cranberry - one of my favorite combinations, I adjusted myself just a bit, hoping to ease my excitement, and looked at the TV screen. Tom Cruise was just taking his parents to the airport in the movie. I knew before long would be that incredible scene where Tom shows the entire world that he, too, knew what masturbation was. In the Director's cut, which we were watching, that scene was just a little longer and slightly more revealing. It lasted more like 2 minutes than the ten seconds in the released version. No skin, but you could definitely make out this hot young stud pulling his briefs down below his balls and working them in there just right so they would stay, and - with the sheets still covering his assets, you could plainly see the stroking motions happen. Soon after that came the scenes of him and Rebecca DeMornay having great teen sex which were FANTASTIC in this director's cut. If I took too long, Andy would pop wood from the movie for sure. He knew it. I knew it. It was part of the game.
"All right, come here you ass," I said, leaning forward.
I pulled the belt out of his loops, and saw a squirming in the curve of his shaft. So, to give him a chance to calm down, I bent over and untied his shoes. Gently lifting up one leg, I removed the shoe - and repeated this on his other foot. Andy wanted his socks off - it was part of what he liked. But I decided not be the only one in torture, so I left them on.
Moving back up to his jeans, I again slid my finger tips on either side of the top button and undid it. I realized that his jeans were button-fly. How was I ever going to get them undone without arousing him ? Still I had to try. So, moving my fingers to the first button, I undid it. As I moved down to the second button, I could feel the outline of his shaft against the tips of my fingers. Good news and bad news. The good news was I could tell he was still limp as a noodle. The bad news was this made me INCREDIBLY hard. Taking a deep breath as I moved, I pulled the jeans a little toward me. Not being directly over his crotch yet, this gave me a little room and I was able to undo the second button without touching his dick at all. But, tight as these jeans were, and well as my friend was hung, there would be no such luck on the last two buttons.
Andy was staring at my hands, watching every move intently. I knew this had the potential to excite him beyond my control, so I scooted out to the edge of the chair. This way I could lean my head over what I was doing and partially block his view.
"That's not fair," Andy said. "Bite me."
Grinning a little myself, I snapped at one of the open flaps of his jeans with my teeth. "Only if you play by the rules," I replied evilly. I felt a little heat begin to rise from Andy's crotch. Knowing that my time was limited, and that I had come dangerously close to losing the game, I got back to work.
Very slowly, I slid my fingers down to the next button. Centimeter by centimeter I maneuvered my hands, so that any friction I might cause against his shaft through the boxers would have the best chance of going unnoticed, and I contended with the button that would have laid on the last inch of Andy's still soft cock before the ridge of his head. I had to press a bit against the shaft to release the button, and thought maybe I would have lost the game right there. But, Andy was as anxious for some fun as I was, and concentrated on keeping himself completely soft so as not to break any of the "rules". At last there was just one button to go.
Now, I don't know if you are as intimately familiar as I am with the topography of tight jeans against a rather sizeable dick. With a soft dick about 5 inches in length and about 3 inches in girth, Andy's head was pressed squarely against the last button.
Even soft, I could see the distinct outline of the ridge marking his head through Andy's boxers. Without removing my hands, I looked back up Andy's sculpted torso just enough to see that a small gap had formed in his boxers. Through the dark nest of silky hair, I could make out where the trunk of his dick joined the rest of his body. I don't know if Andy shaved right around there, or if it was a natural thinning of hair, but right where his thick soft dick intersected his bronze lower body I could see perfect skin.
It was now or never. I slid my fingers down to the last button, having to press against the flesh of Andy's head - which of course massaged the most sensitive part of his dick into the cleavage between his two balls. (You know the sensitive part I'm talking about, just under the head, where the mark of circumcision comes together to form the perfect mushroom shape that gives us all so much pleasure.) Anyway, pressing as lightly as I could I managed to get my fingers to where I could maneuver the button open.
Slowly - ever so slowly - I began to free my fingertips trapped between his jeans and the fleshy, but still soft, manhood. Taking one last glimpse in the gap of Andy's boxers to see if the shaft was making any stirrings that would signal my defeat, I was relieved to see that everything was as deflated as a popped balloon.
I needed another drink. Hell, by this time I needed a smoke. My own member was throbbing and leaking pre-cum like a faucet. I leaned back in my chair and took a long sip from my drink. That may have been a mistake, because I could feel my cock straining against my khakis. Looking down I saw that leaning back without scooting my ass away from the edge of the chair had allowed by erection to stand straight up along the fly of my pants. Now, pointed just a little to the left because it couldn't push up past my belt, a small dribble of lubricant bled through the material. I looked up to see Andy, dimples and all, smiling at my predicament.
"I should have made it a rule that you couldn't get hard either," he said. That fucker would remember his idea for next time, I was sure.
"Too late now. Game's on," was all I could say. I was dying to shoot a load, but too far into the game now to want to back out or end it.
"Well," Andy prodded, "game's not over yet. I still got my jeans on."
Man, he was working me hard. The tension in the room was thick, and I could smell the slight fragrance of Andy's heat near me. This had to go somewhere, and soon.
I sat back up and placed one hand firmly on each of Andy's hips. I gripped him tightly and slowly turned him around to face away from me. I knew if I tried to maneuver any more with gaping boxers in front of my face I could not control myself.
That's when I made my mistake. As I let go of Andy's hips I couldn't help but let the fingers of my right hand creep as far between Andy's legs as possible and, pressing ever so slightly on the back side of his balls, slowly ran my hand up through the crack of his ass to the waistband of his jeans. I tugged down on his jeans and, when they were around his knees, I ran my hand up this path again - now only separated from his warm flesh by the thin boxers.
When Andy turned back around I could see the tip of his head poking through the gap in his boxers. Only, rather than curving limply across his balls, the shaft was straight. Not fully hard, but pointing out at a 45 degree angle toward the floor. I could see that the slit at the very end of his head was slightly opened, and just a hint of moisture formed there. I reached out and gently grasped the head between my first two fingers, holding it like a cigar, and slightly pressed my fingers together, like a scissor. The first knuckle of my middle finger was nested perfectly in the center of the mushroom on the bottom of his head, and my first finger rested just behind the ridge of his head on top of his perfect cock. Keeping the pressure up for just a moment, I wiggled by fingers back and forth, noticing that each time I did there was less side to side movement in the head. Before I knew it, there was pressure against my fingers straining upward, and I could feel Andy's pulse as blood pumped with each heartbeat into the beautiful erection before me. I closed my eyes and moved closer until my mouth was just barely brushing the moisture that now formed a droplet at the opening of Andy's dick. Breathing deeply, I parted my lips slightly and touched my bottom lip to the very tip, which allowed Andy's pre-cum to slide onto my lip.
Reaching down, Andy pulled my hands away. His now straining cock arced upward and hit against his stomach with quiet thud. A thick vein ran from the center of where his balls met his cock up to the ridge of his head. The mushroomed corona showed clearly where the small amount of skin all came together. Being fully flaccid, I could tell the skin was pulled tight, and straining for attention.
Looking up, I saw Andy open his eyes. He gently guided my hands to his jeans, still around his knees.
"Sorry, dude," Andy said in a soft - but pleasant - tone. "Game over."
This was my first attempt at erotica, and I'd love to hear your comments via email at writerdude1234@aol.com.