Justin's Way with Words by Alex Wellens
Chapter One
Justin has been my best friend ever since the sixth grade. We're both eighteen and juniors in high school now. Both of us are active and attractive, but
Justin is the one blessed with brawn AND brains. He's a straight A student, whereas I'm more a "C's get degrees" kinda guy. That's usually why I follow his lead when
we're hanging out. I'm not dumb, but it's easier to enjoy life when someone smart is in charge.
It's a Saturday night. Justin and I are on our way back to his place from a party. We're both a little tipsy but we manage to walk the four blocks
through the suburbs to Justin's. He's quiet and seems a little annoyed.
"Hey, man. You, okay?" I ask him.
"Yeah, just kinda pissed at Bri. She left me with blue balls," he says, rolling his eyes.
"I didn't see you two together back there. What happened?"
"We were making out in one of the bedrooms and things were getting hot. She pulled down my pants and was about to go down on me when she got up and ran to the
bathroom. Guess she drank too much and one of her girlfriends said she was taking her home. I'm still fucking hard as a rock." He gestures at his crotch with both
hands.
I instinctively look down where Justin is pointing. There's a very obvious tent in his jeans. Justin is hung like a horse. We've seen each other naked a
million times, so I'm not surprised by it's size. It's still impressive. I'm always impressed when I see him hard. We are pretty chill about being naked around
each other, and he doesn't bother hiding his morning wood when we sleep-over. Every once in a while, he catches me looking and, laughing, calls me a fag. I laugh,
too. He knows I'm as straight as he is.
"Jake, you're staring at my hardon again. Stop being a fag." He slaps me on the back and laughs.
"Shut up, man! It's just impressive. It's not like I wanna see it."
"Whatever you say, little guy." He smiles at my look of annoyance.
Justin calls me "little guy" all the time. It's his running joke about my dick. Where Justin is about 9 inches and thick, I am only about 6 inches and
have a more average girth. I don't have a little dick, it's just not anywhere near as big as his. He enjoyed reminding me often and it always bothered me.
"Fuck you, man. You know I don't have a small dick. It's just my dad wasn't a horse like yours."
"I'm actually bigger than my dad. I've seen it a couple times." He laughs again. "And there's not a chance in hell you're over five inches."
"I've measured, asshole. I'm six inches."
"Whatever. I don't wanna be thinking about your dick. I know you like that, but I'm all about the ladies." He grabs his hardon and squeezes. "And you know
you're my bro no matter how small your dick is."
"Gee, thanks." It's my turn to roll my eyes. We've had this exact coversation a few times. He never believes me.
Justin's room had been a part of an addition to the house when his dad thought it was time for his son to have his own space. We usually go in through the
door that goes from his room to the backyard. There's another door to the garage and house, along with his own bathroom. For his parents to check on him they have to
go down the hallway, through the garage, and in through the front bedroom door. Fortunately, his parents rarely bother going through that as long as they know where
he is. This gives us free reign of his place.
We go in, strip off into t-shirts and gym shorts, and plop down on his large bed. Justin's flicking through stuff on his TV while I lay there in a
daze. After a few minutes he throws the remote down and groans, crossing his arms. "I'm so horny!"
I look at his crotch again and see his erection, even more prominent in his shorts. I raise my eyebrows and turn my attention back to the TV.
"You looked at my dick again. Why are you always checking me out, little guy? Why would my straight best friend be looking at my monster cock all the time? Are
you just jealous or are you a fag, or both?"
I look back at him and see him waving his hardon through his shorts, a smirk across his face. "Dude, will you stop touching yourself while I'm here? It's
super gay," I plead.
"Fuck man, I'm no fag. You think a guy like me would be a pole smoker? I'm tall, tone, smart, and hung as fuck. You think an Alpha male like me would be into
dicks? Use your head, little Jakey." He looks demeaningly into my eyes. "But I think you like watching me." He smirks again.
"No, Justin, I don't think you're a fag. And I don't wanna see you playing with your dick," I quietly respond. I try not to look at the action in his lap.
Justin looks at me as if he's trying to convince himself to believe me. "I dunno, man. You look like you're pitching wood, too. Well... more like a stick, I
guess." He winks at me. "It's kinda gay that you're hard, little Jakey. I'm hard because Bri started something she couldn't finish. My balls are swollen and ready to
bust because a chick was workin' my huge cock twenty minutes ago. You're tiny dick is hard because you keep lookin' at my big ol' hog."
"For fucks sake, Justin! I've told you a hundred times! I don't have a small dick!" I spit back, while trying to hide my boner with my forearm.
"Please! I bet you're not even five inches hard."
I'm getting angrier the longer this conversation goes on. Normally, Justin and I are super tight and get along well. But in the last few months he's been
making fun of how much smaller I am than him. Sometimes he can be an asshole about it. "Bet. What's the winner get?" I ask confidently.
I see Justin think for a moment before responding. "Loser has to do whatever the winner wants the rest of the night. No exceptions."
"Okay, but you also have to stop calling me "Little Guy", too. The terms are my dick is at least six inches hard. If I am, you have to do whatever I want
tonight, AND stop calling me "Little Guy." It's already 11pm, so I'm not sure what I'll have Justin do, but I'll think of something.
"And if you're less than six inches, you have to do whatever I want. No backing out. No whining."
"Deal," we say at the same time.
Justin hops off the bed and grabs a ruler from his desk. "Whip it out, little guy."
"That'll be the last time you ever say that." I say, smugly. I pull my shorts down and my hardon pops outs. Justin hands me the ruler and I put it against my
shaft. "Ha! Six on the dot!" I smile at him.
Justin shakes his heads and giggles. "Um, Jake... That's not how you measure your dick. Here." He grabs the ruler from my hand, pulls down his shorts and lays it on top of his shaft. He's hard as ever and measures a hair under 9 inches. "See? You gotta put it on TOP of the shaft. You can't go on the side and count your balls." Looking up at me, he hands the ruler back to me.
I put the ruler on top of my hard shaft. My heart sinks right away. I'm not actually 6 inches. I'm not even FIVE inches.
"Four and a half, little guy." I can hear the triumph in Justin's voice. "Told ya."
I'm crushed. All this time thinking I have an average dick. I see plenty of our classsmates' soft dicks in the showers at school. Until now, I had thought I
was around their size. The only other hard dicks I ever see are in porn or on Justin, so I always figured they're all just really hung and I'm average. But it turns
out I've been wrong the whole time. Now I know I really do have a small dick, Justin can still call me his demeaning name, AND I have to do whatever he says tonight.
Fuck.
"Guess I win," Justin says. He gets back on the bed and puts his arms behind his head. "Jack me off."
What?! I never in a million years would have expected him to say that to a guy. "The fuck, dude?! I'm not jerking you off. I'm not a fucking queer!"
Justin rolls his eyes again and looks at me. "Come oooonnn, little Jakey. You agreed. No backing out. No whining. Just pretend it's your dick. Just a lot MORE
of your dick. I was expecting to bust a nut tonight in a chicks mouth. But I'm making do with my bro's hand, instead. Now come here and jack me off!" He shoves his
shorts down to his knees and releases his giant cock.
I pout as I get back on the bed and sit next to him, my dick going soft. I agreed to the terms. I would expect Justin to keep his word too. But I never
would've ever asked him to jerk me off. "Not a word to anyone," I say as I reach over his lap.
"'Course not, dude. Think I want anyone knowing I let a guy touch my horse cock??? Hell no! You just make sure your little dicklet doesn't get hard while
you're stroking my big teen cock. Your bro's cock. The cock you've been looking at for years."
I stare daggers back at him as I slowly start stroking his cock. There's no way I'd get hard from this. It's disgusting.
"Mhmm," Justin moans. "That's nice, Jakey. You can grip a little tighter, though. Come on, give your best friend's big dick a firm grasp. He's not easy to
handle, is he?"
I tighten my hold around his shaft and pick up the pace. I want this to be over as soon as possible. I try staring at the TV, but Justin stops that.
"Uh-uh, look at my cock while you stroke it, dude. You should appreciate it while you can, since you never get to stroke a cock this big."
I look back at my best friend's donkey dick. I can't believe how big it looks in my hand. My dick head harldy pokes out of my fist when I jerk off. I could
easily wrap both hands around Justin's cock and probably still wouldn't be able to cover the whole thing. I feel mesmorized.
Justin laughs again. "I knew you'd want to look at my huge hardon while you get to stroke it. Feels good, lil guy. Pick up the pace a lil, would ya? Yeahhhh,
that's it. Jerk my big cock in your hand. Stroke your bro's pride and joy. Make me feel good, lil Jakey. Mhmm..."
My mind feels like it's going at half speed. I'm barely registering what's going on. I'm sitting in bed next to my best friend, his hard cock sticking up. My
hand is quickly stroking it up and down. The sounds of Justin's big balls slapping against his taint and his dirty talk are starting to get to me.
"Oh fuck yeah, lil man. I'm about to bust. Don't stop. I'll beat your ass if you stop before I get my nut, okay? Here it comes. Keep stroking, faggot--"
With that I feel Justin's cum pulsing through his cock and see it spew out of the big mushroom head. It lands just under his neck, all over his shirt. I keep
stroking the load out of him, astonished at how much there is. After the eighth spurt, his cock gives one more shudder and stops pulsing in my hand. I immediately let
go and wipe my cum-covered hand on his already soiled t-shirt. I feel dirty.
"Wow that felt great, dude. Thanks!" Justin pulls his shirt over his head and starts to wipe his deflating cock. Then he looks down at my crotch and the smile
disappears from his face. "Jake, I told you, you better not get hard from jacking me off. You're hard as a rock! I knew you were a fag. I can't believe my best friend
is a fag, man.
"I'm not a fucking faggot! How many times do I have to tell you?!" I yell, embaressed by what I'd done, and how I'd gotten hard.
"You know who gets hard from playing with other guys' dicks? Faggots, Jake. If you would've stayed soft while stroking me off we'd be sitting back and watching
a movie like nothing happened right now. But, no. You got hard from stroking my donkey dick and now we gotta talk about it. You think I like having a guy play with my
cock? No. But I had a bad case of blue balls, a lil to drink, and a best friend that owed me a favor. I made do. I imagined you were a chick the whole time your faggy
hands were on my monster. But you couldn't imagine I was a chick, too. Not with this prime meat in your hand. You knew I was a guy the whole time. And it made you
hard. Sick!"
I'm starting to get worried I just screwed up my relationship with my best friend. "Justin, please! I swear im not gay! I only did it because you made me! I
didn't mean to get hard! I didn't even realize I was hard until you mentioned it! Please don't be mad at me, and PLEASE don't tell anyone!" I beg him.
Justin stares at me with that unsure look on his face. Finally, he spoke. "Okay, Jake. I believe you when you say you're not a fag. We're teenagers, we both
get hard at the drop of a hat. I guess I can't blame it on you lusting after my horse cock." He pulls up his shorts and grabs his sizeable bulge again. "But I can't
promise I'll never tell anyone. The guys would probably get a good laugh out of it."
"No, please! You can't ever tell anyone! I'll do whatever you want, just never say anything to anyone! I'll do your homework the rest of the year if I have
to!" I look pleadingly into my best friend's eyes.
"Hmm, maybe I'll take you up on that. Owing me something, that is. We'll see how it goes."
I sigh in relief. "Thanks, man. I owe you."
"Yeah, you do."