New Years Barebacking By Galeotto
I've been in love with my best friend for years. I know it's a cliche, but there is something about him -- it's his dimples, maybe. I've watched him smile for over a decade and every time he does, I want to run my fingers across the broad indent in his cheeks. There is more to Clint than his cheeks, of course. There's his arms -- which have the muscles of a football player who takes MMA lessons. I like his arms.
But Clint is straight. I've known his girlfriends and resented every last one of them. All best friends know each other's sexual histories. I am not ashamed to admit that I've spent many lonely nights imagining that I was Clint's date on prom night -- a night where, according to his girlfriend, he provided her with seven orgasms.
After four months of separation at university, I met up with Clint at a party on New Year's Eve. And several beers, a few glasses of wine, and a Caesar or two later, it was time to call it a night. The number of people crashing at the party was more than anticipated -- I joked that it was an overrun refugee camp. Having known me the longest, Clint decided that he can share one of the queen size beds upstairs.
While I was brushing my teeth, Clint had stripped down to his boxers slid under the duvet. I was excited and a little tipsy.
"Man, I can't believe Sarah looked so good tonight," Clint said when the lights were off. I was expecting this. It was the token "drunken-guy conversation" about hot chicks and sexual exploits. I rolled over onto my stomach so Clint couldn't see my chubby growing into a hard-on.
"Yeah, she's pretty fine," I agreed.
"When did you last get laid?"
"A few months ago, I met this girl through a friend at work," I lied. I've never been with a girl.
"I wouldn't mind getting laid tonight."
"Is this why you're making me sleep with you? Oh God, is it pee-pee touch-time?" I joked, my cock getting harder.
He placed his hand on my hip, "Oh come on," he said. "If I tried anything with you, you wouldn't stop me."
He was right, I wouldn't stop him. I didn't move - I'm not even sure I breathed.
Clint inched closer to me. I could feel his torso against mine. After a brief moment, I could feel his hard cock on my ass. Out of shock I rolled over. When he did he pressed his lips against mine. Before I realized it, I was pressing my tongue onto his.
He smelled like Old Spice and beer. Precum oozed out of my cock.
In no more than a second, he was on top of me and I was running my hands up and down his back. His skin is soft and I never would have imagined that.
"Hold on." He jumped out of bed. My head was spinning and I'm not sure if it was because of the alcohol or the surreal feeling of having Clint's cock pressed up against mine.
He returned holding a jar of Vaseline he found under the bathroom sink.
"I don't have a condom," he said, "But I figure that we're both clean and we can't get pregnant, it won't matter".
It was probably the alcohol, but his logic sounded good to me.
He covered his finger in lube and continued kissing me. His fingers forced their way to into my asshole -- one finger at first. His kiss muffled my moans. The second finger slid in and I had to break the kiss. His fingers are long. They moved in and out of me slowly.
I didn't try to loosen me up for long. After a few minutes he moved himself between my legs. I could hear him lathering Vaseline over his cock. I knew he was big but I hadn't been able to tell how big until he started entering me.
"Go slow," I muttered.
He stopped once the head of his cock was inside. I was paralyzed.
He pressed his face down to mine into a passionate kiss. He was trying to muffle my moans again as he pushed the rest of his cock into my ass. My arms were wrapped around his back and we stayed like that until the pain subsided.
"I've wanted to do this with you for a long time," he whispered into his kiss.
My legs wrapped his ass, pulling him closer into me. "I can't believe you're inside me," I replied panting.
On cue, Clint withdrew his cock almost completely out of my ass and pushed back in. He must be at least 8?, I thought. He began fucking me in a regular rhythm.
"You're getting too loud, people will hear us," he covered my mouth with his hand. But I couldn't stop moaning. His cock seemed to expand in my ass. My cock had spilled precum on his stomach and I could feel the wet sticky feeling every time he thrusted into me.
"Where do you want me to cum?"
"Inside me."
"I wanted you to say that."
Clint's thrusts became more violent. I wrapped legs tightly around his ass so he couldn't exit me if he tried. I felt the first squirt of cum inside me and it was enough to send me over the edge. My cock erupted onto his stomach and chest. Clint shot 6 or 7 loads into me, but my legs kept him to withdrawing me from.
"Stay inside me as long as you can."
He kissed my lips again, all atremble.
After several moments of silence, his cock softened and came out of my asshole. He scooped out the cum that leaked out of my ass and spoon-fed it to me. Before I could swallow it, he kissed me and we spent the next few minutes trading his cum between our mouths.
"Good night, my love". He whispered. I started to fall asleep in his arms, covered in cum, and with a sore asshole.
"Good night, Clint".
I would love to get feedback. Feel free to email me at no_limites_with_me@live.com