Nursed Back to Health

Note that the following story is a work of semi-fiction, or maybe "inspired by a true story." Part is 100% true, and part is fantasy, and I leave it to the reader to determine which is which. Certain details have been tweaked to protect the "innocent." By all means, send feedback along to AtlantisGuy@aol.com

I always knew Garrett was a good friend, but I didn't realize how good until... everything went down.

I vividly remember the day we met, it was our first day as newbies into a competitive grad school program at a good university back in the mid 1990s. On my first day, I had walked into my first classroom, settled into a chair... and then he walked in.

Wowza.

I had never thought of myself as anything but a normal, red-blooded straight guy, but I swear I did a double take. It was like Garrett had walked off the set of a freaking Hallmark Christmas movie—so much so that I thought it was going to snow. He was the literal embodiment of All-American charm, with an athletic frame that oozed masculine grace. The dazzling effect was heightened when he spoke with a honeyed, Southern lilt... I mean, shit, it sounded like music. Every woman in the room suddenly shifted their posture and started to twitter, and even the lesbian Marxist in the corner languidly dragged her fingers across her face and started to purr appreciatively.

For a minute, I felt like a gangly teenager back in middle school all over again.

Wait. Fuck that shit. I have nothing to be ashamed about. I'm Blake, and I am very much not a gangly middle schooler any more. I worked through my awkward stage by throwing myself into sports, and through workouts to build and maintain muscle. I'm no gym rat by any stretch, but I feel no shame when I hit the showers. I've also grown into my looks and can say with no false modesty that I'm damn easy on the eyes. I may not be the sporty, All-American God Garrett was, but I wasn't nothing. Garrett and I really didn't get to know each other. On the one hand, we were each other's direct competition. As new recruits starting at the same time, we were both thrown into the meatgrinder simultaneously, and essentially each other's rivals for funding, position, and the professors' attention.

And it was a struggle; that first semester kicked my ass. Given the program we were in, every paper we turned in needed to be publishable, every spoken statement had to be defendable. It was rough, and a huge leap from my undergraduate program. And it wasn't just me feeling the heat. As the weeks went by, I could see the... brightness of Garrett's eyes start to dim, to be replaced by haggard exhaustion. But, after the initial jolt I got my shit together and plowed forward. It was rough going, but by the semester's end, I like to think I had shown my professors and colleagues that I deserved a seat at the table.

I saw Garrett on the first day of the new semester, when we discovered we had three Monday classes back-to-back-to-back. We essentially exchanged pleasantries as we moved around, and ended the day with a 3-hour seminar that was required of all new entrants to the program.

And holy fuck was that seminar a shit-show.

The professor who led it was several decades beyond his expiration date, and the whole thing could have been a sketch comedy segment... if it hadn't been so mind-numbingly boring. Like, the kind of event where you wanted to rip your own arm off so you could bludgeon yourself to death with it.

After it was over, Garrett and I stumbled into the hallway, dazed, and stared at each other blankly. Finally, I started to snicker, he followed suit, and within minutes we were both collapsed on the floor howling with laugher. Him clutching my shoulder for support.

"Did... did he really just talk about... a 'Dear Abby' column for 20 goddamn minutes??!?" he howled.

"Jesus Christ!" I exploded back. "And that was the only coherent part of the lecture! The look on that girl's face when he spent 10 fucking minutes trying to figure out if they were related because they had the same last name..." I trailed off as I dissolved into convulsive laughter.

"Oh God, oh God! She looked like, 'Is he... is he trying to hit on me?' And then, 'Do I wish he was hitting on me instead whatever bullshit this is?'" More riotous laughter.

Finally, we regained our composure. I got up and extended my hand to him. "Fuck this shit. I think we need to grab a beer. We earned it."

Garrett brightened, considerably. He looked like he was going to say something, but then clamed up. He instead grabbed my hand and hoisted himself to his feet. "You, sir, are a man after my own heart. I humbly accept." He clapped my on the shoulder, and off we went.

We ended up having a blast. After spending time with him I realized he was a real chill guy, and freaking hilarious. We had so much fun that we did it again the following week, at which point it became a Monday night tradition. From there, I noted that we were coming up on the Super Bowl and invited him over to watch the game. He tried to hold himself together, but the look of joy on his face was like I was his long-lost father come home from the war to restore the family fortune. Normally a chill dude, he was bouncing around thinking of all the food he was going to make—I learned he was a damn good cook—and planning out every detail. On game day, while we were gorging on some amazing pulled pork, I whined that I had gotten completely out of shape since starting the program. He excitedly suggested that we join a local gym together to be each other's accountability partners. Things kept building, and in short order we were inseparable, and thick as thieves.

In one of our many beer-soaked conversations, I learned more about him... and just how bad things had been for him that first semester. It didn't help that he was in a long-distance relationship with a girl he'd been together with since college. This was proving to be a real challenge for them, and things had been really wearing him down.

Worse, he confided that he hadn't been sure he was going to make it in the program. "I was expecting it to be hard, but not that hard. And it didn't help that everyone treated me like I didn't belong. They only saw me as an air-headed pretty boy, or a dumb jock, or a country hick... or all three at once. Professors, the students, even Ellen in the office."

"Yeah, Ellen is a real bitch," I commiserated. But secretly, I was wincing remembering my less than gracious response to meeting him, and hoping I hadn't been a total asshole. "But you're doing okay now, right?"

Garrett sighed and looked down. "It's been... hard. I don't know. Back in college, everything came so easy. Like I didn't even need to read everything, it just clicked. I really was on top of the world in college, and now I feel like I'm just... nothing."

"C'mon, man. You're a great guy, and you totally can do this. Tell you what. I know they want us at each other's throats and all, but what say we start our own study group. Make sure we have each other's backs."

He gave me a look that I couldn't quite read. "Yeah. Yeah. Let's do this. Two Musketeers, right?"

"Yes! And drinking buddies, too!"

"You're on!"

At that point, the semester started getting better. I realized how much I had been starved for friendship myself, and loved having someone to run around with. Garrett got much of his mojo back, and seemed... well, bright again. With a killer smile that made women go weak in the knees. And if I didn't know better, from some guys, too. Hell, we both got our share of attention at the bar where we hung out, even if he remained blindingly loyal to his far-off girlfriend, Ellie.

I was somewhat surprised when he returned from spring break, all puffed up and full of himself. He proudly proclaimed that he had asked Ellie to marry him, and she said yes. His eyes just lit up when he talked about her... I hope I can find someone like that myself. I've been single since I found out my college girlfriend had been cheating on me with one of my buds. I wanted to get back into the game again... but, well...

Garrett and Ellie decided to get married during the summer, and they started the new school year as husband and wife. I met he, and she was a riot... a real sassy personality. The kind of woman you expected to find working at a roadside diner somewhere. Garrett confided with a twinkle in his eye that she was on the high end of high maintenance, but matched well against his laid-back personality. We all became fast friends.

Times were great--a steady grind with classes but a lot of fun in-between. Garrett and I continued to climb the grad school ladder, becoming TAs in turn, and plowing ahead.

And then, things went sideways.

I stared getting excruciating abdominal pain, and came to find I had gall stones. They needed to remove my gall bladder.

The good news is that the procedure no longer gutted you like a fish; they were reasonably sure they could work things out laparoscopically. Still, it was going to be a massive, invasive procedure. Talking to the doctor, I learned that the first 24 hours or so I would be essentially useless. The next 2 or so days after that would be better, but still pretty much unmitigated hell, as I would still need help with basic biological functions. I'd improve steadily after that, but I should plan a week of essentially staying in bed.

And, I'd need someone to stay with me at all times, and to help with everything. Everything.

That really sucked. The only one I could really ask to serve as my bedside nurse was my mom, but she lived a thousand miles away. And as a 20-something guy, I had zero interest in my mommy helping me with... um, basic biological functions. Hell no. I'd rather eat broken glass. Garrett and Ellie had invited me for dinner that night, and I was bemoaning how badly that was going to suck. Garrett let me bitch and moan, for a bit while he was preparing the meat. After I had talked myself out, he offered up simply, "Well, Blake... I could stay with you."

"Wait, what?"

"No, seriously. I could stay with you. You said you were going to schedule things over spring break, right? Ellie and I aren't going anywhere. I'll bring the readings I need to catch up on, the essays I need to grade, and camp out with you."

"Dude, no. No! Didn't you hear me? Jesus, you'd be like... seeing me. You know, like all of me."

"Settle down, I see your micro-dick at the gym all the time. I'm hardly frightened."

I punched him in the arm. "There's more to it than that. Shit, you'd be like helping me go to the bathroom! And bathing! And... everything! God, I could never ask that of you. Of anyone!"

"No, seriously. I've done team sport since I was a kid, and seen and helped all kinds of injuries. All kinds of personal injuries. I can do this."

I was absolutely flabbergasted. "But... why would you? Like I said, I could never ask someone..."

Garrett abruptly put down the knife. "It's the least I could do." He looked at me sharply, and then looked down before continuing. "The very least. You... you... I don't think you realize it, but you pretty much saved my life back when we started. I've never really gone into it, but that first semester about ripped me apart. I never felt so... useless. So stupid. So out of my depth. After that first day of second semester, I was pretty much ready to throw everything away and turn tail. After that crazy-ass seminar, I had it. But as we were leaving, we just... clicked. That was the first time someone here treated me like a person. You made me feel like I could make it. That I belonged here. And Hell, you made me want to fight for Ellie, too. You... brought me back. And you've done it every day since." He looked up at me, and his eyes were glistening. He put his hand on my shoulder. "Will you will let me, in some small way, do something to pay you back? You saved my life."

I didn't know what to say. It was so hard seeing myself through someone else's eyes. To know something I did so casually had such an impact on someone, causing ripples that kept going.

And I realized that his friendship had been as much an anchor for me as mine had been for him.

Damn. I think I was welling up myself. I had no response, and no voice to make it. I just reached over and grabbed his shoulder. Just standing there. Together.

Ellie came in at that moment, looked at us and rolled her eyes. "Lord save me. I leave the room for 2 minutes and all the men-folk are cryin' and huggin'... why don't you set the table, Blake, and make yourself useful for once? Honestly!"

The surgery came and went, and I was incredibly grateful to have Garrett on my side. He was there to pick me up post-op, as the nurses poured me into his car. He was somehow able to get me into my bed, went through the checklist of things, and quietly set himself up to camp out in my living room.

The first night absolutely sucked. I was wildly disoriented, drugged up to high hell, and in serious pain. Garrett essentially stripped me naked and had me wrapped in a light robe, the easier for me to manage biological functions as they started to return, and to check on the four incisions on my abdomen. That first night he was kind enough to hold a portable urinal—essentially a strangely shaped, glorified water bottle—to my dick so I could relieve myself, which was probably the most humiliating thing I'd ever done. But it saved me from the hassle of trying to get me to the bathroom. Garrett discretely looked away, like he wasn't even there, but did everything with military precision. And without making me feel like a total, fucking loser. No ball-busting, no snark. Just much-needed assistance.

God, I was lucky to have him.

Fortunately, I was in pretty good health otherwise, and quickly recovered. Still, I was nowhere near fully myself again, and the pain med continued to throw me for a loop. But over the next few days, in addition to soreness, I was battling boredom and a fair amount of cabin fever. Garrett was a trouper, putting up with my foul mood.

Finally, Thursday night, I kinda snapped. Looking over at him, I growled out, "Dude. I'm going out of my mind here! I love you, man, for taking care of me... but Goddamn, I kinda wish you'd give me like five minutes of privacy so I could rub one out and take the edge off. It's been too long as it is!"

He gave me a level look and shot back, "Don't bitch at me, man. Just do it! We're all guys here..."

"Very funny. I've already made a spectacle out of myself, thank you very much. I'm not gonna whip it out."

"Geez man, it's not like I haven't seen your pencil dick a hundred times already at the gym."

I glowered at him. "That's different. Besides, being left with nothing but my right hand is just another reminder about how badly my love life sucks. You don't have to resort to jerking off—you've got an actual woman to give you all the help you need."

Garrett exasperatedly closed the book he was reading and turned towards me. "Oh please. Do you think there is a married man, anywhere, whose wife is giving them everything they need? Trust me, I switch over to 'single player' all the time."

"Aw geez, man... seriously? Ellie let's you jerk off by yourself?"

Garrett guffawed. "No sir—Ellie thinks beating your meat is a form of cheating! The one time she nearly caught me, there was hell to pay. I have to go deep undercover to pull it off."

I looked at him for a second, before we both exploded in laughter. Me laughing so hard I think I re-opened my incisions. "What is the deal with that?" I asked in wonderment. "Why do women get so bent out of shape about guys jerking themselves off? Taking it personally? And God forbid you be watching porn while going at it... that makes you worse than Hitler!"

Garrett continued snickering. "I'm sure I have no idea!"

I went in in a righteous huff. "I mean, it doesn't mean anything! We don't do it for any great important reason, we just do it because we can. Can't get the morning started? Rub one out. Bored at home? Rub one out. Can't fall asleep? Rub one out. It's just... relieving pressure. A distraction. A few minutes of feeling good. And girls make up this whole story in their minds that we're not satisfied with them, or we're sex obsessed perverts!"

"And really, sometimes it's just... faster," Garrett jumped in. "I love sex. I love sex with my wife. Sex is the gold standard. But sometimes, you're just too tired or don't have the energy. You don't want the half hour of convincin', with the next half hour of preliminaries, followed by a half hour of cardio. We just need a quick release. We don't always have time for the whole banquet; sometimes, we just need a bag of Cheetos to tide us over!"

I was howling in laughter all over again. "Gar, I think you're the first man in history who compared jerking off to a bag of Cheetos."

"Am I wrong?"

"Not a bit!" I thought about it for a minute. "You're right about the quick release. I mean, jerking off doesn't feel... bad... but you only really do it for the release. It's all about the ending."

Garrett considered my words, and went on. "Yeah, now that you say it... it's the total opposite of a blowjob. If jerking off is all about the ending, getting blown is all about the process. Really feelin' it. Especially for me... I don't think I've ever actually finished up just from getting blown."

"Huh. Yeah, well... I think part of the problem is women just don't understand the glory that is a good blow job. They totally don't know what to do, and too often don't even care. Sorry that it doesn't work for you and Ellie." Garrett scoffed, harshly. "Normally I'd demand satisfaction from any man talking about my wife that way... but it's not an issue. Ellie flat out refuses to ever, ever blow me. She says it's degrading and that if I ever pressure her I'm getting a knee in my nether parts. And trust me... she'd do it."

"Damn, man... I'm sorry!"

"Yeah, well... I've resigned myself to never getting a blowjob again. But I can't complain too much, generally things are pretty good between us. It's just, sometimes I get... wistful."

"So, I guess that's back where we started... beating our meat is our only recourse. Damn." Somewhat absently, I reached down and cupped myself... still naked under my light cotton robe. I savored the sensations, but realized what I was doing and pulled my hand back. Embarrassed. I looked at Garrett, and he was watching me with... interest.

We looked at each other in silence for a while, until he tentatively broke the ice. "I wasn't kidding when I said you were free to let loose. I've been feeling the urge myself for a while, with no way to relieve the pressure. Maybe if we do it in front of each other, it won't count. Just guys being guys, doing what guys do."

I was stunned speechless. My Southern Gentleman, suggesting something... untoward. Seriously? I... have to admit. It wasn't just the usual... pressure I was feeling. His suggestion, was... intriguing. Doing with another guy around? It was like... taboo. My sex life since moving out here had been essentially pathetic. But Garrett was offering something... dangerous. Fucking exciting. I mean, two grown men jerking off in front of each other? I was, I admit, more than a little curious. And more than a little bit eager.

"Gar, are you shitting me...?" I asked cautiously. Lightly enough that I could still back down and laugh it off if he was just kidding me.

"Naw, I'm not pulling your leg. In fact..." he got this conspiratorial look in his eye, "I'm hoping my unmarried buddy might just happen to have some good ol' fashioned porn at his disposal. I haven't been able to indulge since getting married."

I looked at him, saw the reflection of my excitement in his eyes and realized my dick was starting to swell. "Go into my bedroom. That drawer in the nightstand is where I keep my stash of videos. Pick us out something good."

He got a big grin on his face, and I could see him actually start to flush. "There's a good man!" He bolted into my bedroom, and came back in a few minutes with a video. His pants had a noticeable bulge, which was leading the way. He helped me onto the couch, loaded things up, and walked back over to me.

There was an awkward pause, where we looked at each other in silence. My heart was racing. "We gonna do this...?" I said thickly.

Garrett held my eyes for a second. I could see the lust creeping in. Soon his look was a leer. "Yeah." He sat down next to me, and looked over at me. I had opened my robe, leaving myself essentially naked. Hairy in exactly the way a man should be hairy, except for the places I had been shaved for surgery. Garrett looked at me with... interest. Openly... staring. And I was loving the idea of another guy checking me out.

"Yessir, I think we're going to have some fun," he murmured in a husky voice. But then something occurred to him. He stood up and started peeling off all his clothes, too. Buck naked. Making us equal.

It was... odd watching him strip down. It made me feel... I don't quite know. Excited. It was so strange. I had seen him take off his clothes a million times when we were at they gym. But there, it was all business. This was... shit, he had like this look in his eye. Like it was... charged. Sexual. The confidence of a man in full rut knowing he was going to get lucky. I was... feeling it. Shit. Really feeling it. It was exciting. Dangerous. We were really going to do it.

His shirt came off first, revealing his chest. It was almost disorienting, as usually with that kind of striptease I was used to seeing tits. Instead, it was hard muscles. Taut. And hairy. Not like a gorilla, but a splash of fur across his pecs and down his breastbone. Short and curly. Around his nipples. Down his abs to his crotch. It was...

Shit.

I mean, I'm a straight guy. I like a smooth chest. I like tits. But Garrett was... shit. I don't know what to say. It was fucking hot. He was fucking hot. Masculine. Like a fucking MAN.

Like a fucking man.

I guess I was staring. Garrett looked at me and... almost blushed. "What, man...? Is this... too weird...?"

"NO! I mean... no. It's just... I... just..." my mind started racing, not sure what I should say. Not even sure what I was thinking. "I guess I've always admired you. Your look. You're fucking incredible... Oh, shit. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. I've said way too much."

"Me, what are you talking about? You're so... perfect. The hottest sonofabitch I've ever met. The perfect man. Shit. Now I've said too much." He looked down, then back up at me, straight in the eye. "I'm not gonna lie, I've always been intimidated by you. I mean, you are exactly what a man should look like. No show muscles... you're real. And I love that you have some honest-to-gosh hair. I've never understood why guys are trying to look smooth. You are... perfect."

I felt... I don't know how I felt. Like... proud. Flush. Alive. I couldn't believe this super-hot guy had been admiring... me. Thinking in any way I was a match for him and his perfect body. I was... feeling... something in my belly. And my pulse.

Shit. Things were... moving... fast.

And then he said simply, "I guess its time to shit or get off the pot." And with quick strokes, he dropped his pants and Jockeys, and stood there in his fully glory. His dick was surrounded by a full man-bush, and anchored by a pair of hairy balls. He was at about half-staff, and I guessed he was going to be at least 7-8 inches when fully hard. Longer than me, but I was considerably thicker.

Fuck. My throat suddenly was dry. Fucking raw. Fucking masculine. Raw male power. Unabashed.

One curiosity. Garrett disentangled his undershirt, and carefully placed it over my hairy chest. He gave me a half-smile, and said "I can't have you splashing on your fresh stiches now, can I?" Shit. The fleeting touch of him as he did so... really... got to me...

And with that he sat down and fired up the video.

Fuck I was horny. Hornier than I could ever remember being. Hands-trembling-horny. I knew instinctively what to do... guys by this stage of our lives have figured out exactly what we like and are ruthless in delivering it. I started working myself. Feeling fucking great. Feeling the pressure of my hands. The easy friction. And Garrett did the same.

The room was crackling with electricity. Forbidden excitement. Having a guy start jacking himself next to me, as I started working my own meat? It was crazy. My heart was racing. More exciting than anything I'd done in a long time. And... maybe this is true of all guys, everywhere, but it was such a rush seeing another guy getting pleasured. I mean, that's why we like porn, right? I mean, we want to see a woman's parts, but watching a guy get off helps get us off. Like we can imagine what it's like.

So being able to see my bud work his dick was... really getting to me. I found myself sneaking glances at him fisting his cock. Watching. Excited. Feeling his energy. Feeling his rush, and having it feed mine. I quick looked at his face, and I swear I saw him checking me out too, fleetingly. Fuck that was hot. Knowing he... he... was getting off on me the same way I was getting off on him. Male bonding at its finest.

I watched more. Fascinated about how he rolled his fist, torquing, twisting, enhancing. Knowing how to work himself better than anyone else. He reached down and started massaging his balls. I followed his lead. Fuck. I loved ball play, and women always got it wrong. Maybe only guys knew just how much pressure to place...

Garrett moaned, softly, and my cock spasmed in response. It was fucking real. My looks over to him were getting longer. Less hidden. I looked up, and he was watching me. Openly. He looked up and our eyes locked. No embarrassment. No snark. Just heat. Fucking heat. And a connection.

We were openly staring at each other. Looking. Seeing. The fucking porno went away. Watching each other, mirroring each other. Garrett started tickling himself under his balls, making a low rumbling growl. My growl was louder. I ran my thumb around my cockhead, smearing my precum around. He all but whimpered. My whole body was on fire. Horniness unleased. The slow seductive dance had gotten to me and I needed to release. I started beating, hard. Fast. He joined me. Somewhere inside, I was surprised at how violent jerking off can be. My need building... building...

But then with a frustrated grunt I had to disengage. I was still loopy from the pain meds, and the headrush was staggering me. Worse, I couldn't keep up with the rough arm movements, as I was still in a lot of pain and not really able to move freely. I spat out my irritation, furious that I couldn't seal the deal, and sat there panting, ridiculous. With my still-hard dick twitching and in as much need for release as I was.

Garrett was watching me closely, and realized what was happening. And to my complete, total shock...

...he leaned forward and gripped my dick with his right hand.

It was like an electric jolt ripped through me. Pleasure, extreme pleasure, followed by extreme need, and a flash of embarrassment. "Gar... what... what are you doing...?" I gasped out.

"I promised to help you. I can't leave a guy in this condition... so I'm helping you."

"I..."

"Just be quiet." He went to work. I can't describe the incredible feelings coursing through me. Holy shit. Women had felt me up before, and occasionally given me a handjob on the way to something better... but... Jesus. What a difference having a guy do this made. He knew what to do. Knew the fundamentals of pressure and glide to make me... feel goooooooood.

Then... he fucking spat into his hand, and really got to work. I started moaning like a bitch in heat. Laying back, my eyes rolling in my head. Swept along in a river of sensation. God. Oh my God. I don't know if it was the drugs, the fact that it had been so long, or just the forbidden excitement of doing this with another guy, but I was hard enough to punch through steel and more alive than I had felt in like years.

Soon, the sensations overwhelmed me. I started off in pumped staccato grunts, my whole body tensed up, and with a shrieking howl I blew a massive load all over everything. Dousing Garrett. Spraying my face. I was still coming down when I realized that Garrett had scooped up my cum in his hand and started furiously pounding his meat with it. Wildly. With fucking fire in his eye. My cum slicking him up. He turned towards me, and I was shocked when he threw back his head and loudly blasted his own load all over me. Drenching my protective T-shirt, and again spraying my face.

Shocked. I was shocked. And fucking hotter than fuck. I ran my tongue across my mouth, tasting our cum... mine? His? I had no idea. Just tasting it.

More taboos broken.

We just looked at each other. Oblivious to the fake squeals of the porno still running on the TV.

Well, that was it. The last few days that Garrett stayed with me, we jerked off together every chance we could. Obsessively. Waking up in the morning. After lunch. Before dinner. As we got ready to sleep. As much as my body could recover. And quickly, we realized we didn't even need to put a porno in to get us started. We'd start together, and then he took over and beat my meat for me. He was a fucking master, knowing things that only another guy could know. And... he... shit, it sounds weird to say, but he could fucking read me like a book. He tried shit, changed shit up, and when he got the reaction he was looking for, he fucking went for it. God, he did something with his fingers juuust on the underside of my cockhead that still gets me instantly hard the instant I think about it. I never knew a handjob could be so fucking incredible... or... shit... so intimate. It wasn't... tender by any stretch of the imagination, but... I guess I never really thought that guys could be so... good... with each other.

I wanted to return the favor. Do for him what he was so amazingly doing for me. And by the end, I had was reaching over to him and would stroke him as he jerked me, fondling his balls. It was the least I could do. I wanted to do more, but being he always sat to the left of me (we're both right-handed), and any attempt at torqued movement brought searing pain, that was all I could manage.

When Garrett packed up at the end of the week, we didn't say anything whatsoever. I thanked him, profusely, for his help, but was deliberately vague about which help I was referring to. In part, because I could barely wrap my head around it. We had been so... casual about it. Jumping in like it was no big thing. Expected. And at the time, we rushed in so fast and so completely that there wasn't really any time to think about it.

But... c'mon. My best bud and I were jerking each other off. Guys. Guys jerking each other off. That was all kinds of wrong, especially since he was a married man. What the fuck was wrong with me? Wrong with us?

But holy shit was that fucking amazing!

We never spoke of it, never even hinted at anything that had happened. But there was no way I could get it out of my mind. I... shit, it's weird to say it, but he had awoken a real curiosity inside me. That that forbidden fun had been fucking awesome, and nothing bad resulted in it. We didn't go blind, he and his wife seemed to be strong as ever, and our friendship kept going merrily along.

The curiosity continued. I was curious about... Damn. I'll just say it. I was curious about him. It had been so surprising being with a guy. Touching another guy. I had never had an opportunity like that before, and unless something really bizarre happened, I probably wouldn't have such an opportunity ever again. Having a guy openly do stuff with me, rather than threatening to kick my ass, like most of my other buddies would do. I found myself thinking more and more about Garrett as I jerked off after that. Unable to forget the incredible sensation of his hand around my dick. Wanting to feel his. And there was that... closeness. That trust. Beyond anything I'd ever shared with a guy before. Blowing away all my preconceived notions about how guys acted around guys.

And that made me think: what else were we missing?

Shit, was I really thinking that? About what else we were missing out on?

...Yeah. I think I was.

Curiosity kept eating at me for the rest of the term. Curiosity and horniness. Garrett, Ellie and I all went back to normal. Which was on the one hand, great. But the more I thought of it, the more I realized that the longer we stayed at "normal," the less likely anything was to ever happen again. This might be the last chance to explore. Also, I had already planned on being gone over the summer; I had secured a sweet 12-week fellowship half-way across the country. I was pretty sure that by the time I got back, the door Garrett and I had cracked open would be closed for good.

And so I hatched a plan. By the term's end, I was good as new and fully recovered. I waited until we were all done with everything for the summer, and things were more relaxed. At that point, I reached out to Garrett and made him an offer: for his excellent care while I was down, I offered to cook him a ribeye steak dinner on the grill with a ridiculously expensive bottle of bourbon. Usually, Ellie and Garrett always came as a matched set. But I correctly suspected that Ellie would not feel the need to tag along, and was stoked to find that she had scheduled a girls' night with her friends to give us some guy time.

I lit candles to several different gods in gratitude.

The day came. Garrett knocked at my door, looking great in a T-shirt, shorts, and flip-flops, as we were just on the cusp of summer. I was nervous as fuck, but we went into the evening easily. They way best friends do. I can grill a decent steak, and with some potatoes and veggies, we had a feast. The air was warm, and the bourbon smooth. Unforced conversation, so easy we didn't need to fill the pauses. On my couch, two guys in our prime. Feeling an incredible closeness. We were fucking kings. Seeing him like that... it... my heart kinda was glowing. Mostly from excitement, but there was something else wrapped up in there, too. Something deeper.

Finally, I looked over at him and took one big gulp of liquid courage. "Hey Gar, I just wanted to say thanks again for everything while I was laid up. I'd have never managed without you, and you went above and beyond. That was seriously Blood Brother territory, and I just... wanted to say how much it meant to me."

He flashed me a half-smile. "It was the least I could do. You had my back, and I was happy to give back. It's a small part of what I owe you." No snark, no smartassery to break the mood, just... warmth. My heart sang.

"So. Do you... trust me?"

Garrett gave me an appraising, if somewhat confused look. "You know I do brother. What's up...?

"Well. You provided more than medical care. You provided a special service, that I was unable to repay at the time." I got up, and smoothly kneeled between his legs. There was a flicker in his eye... barely perceptible. "But I owe you for that, too. I've been thinking about it. A lot. And now it's time to pay up."

I reached up, and started massaging his crotch.

I don't know if I can describe the look that swirled around his face.

Considering.

Remembering.

Deciding.

An unmistakably male leer slid across his face. "You don't owe me nothin'... but... buddy, I ain't gonna stop you."

Fuck yeah.

Garrett was watching me with intense curiosity. I gave him a smug smile, and looked back down. I could feel his dick starting to rise and flex against my hand, wanting to be free. Without another word, I undid the button to his shorts, unzipped his fly, and rubbed him harder against the light cotton fabric of his Jockeys. He let out an appreciative sound. He made no move whatsoever to block me.

Enough preliminaries. If I thought too much about this, I was afraid I'd chicken out. This was my one shot. I pulled down his underwear, and his rock-hard cock slapped against his body.

Fuck.

I had seen him hard, and awkwardly jacked him, sure, but this was altogether different. For one, I was close enough that I get hit with the scent of his musk. Completely different from a woman's snatch. It was... fucking masculine. Raw, primal. Connecting with my body on an ocean's-deep level. My heart started pounding as my brain whirled. Fuck. He smelled like sex.

I steeled myself, wet my lips, and moved in. If anything, I'm sure he thought I was going to repay him with a handjob of my own. I had been thinking of something else. Obsessing with it, really... You see, my buddy thought he'd never get another blowjob.

And I was going to give him the best fucking blowjob a bud could give.

I locked on his cockhead with my mouth. Garrett's whole body jerked and he barked out a gasp.

God, his dick was amazing. Harder, and yet softer than I thought it would be. Fucking real. I had no experience with an actual dick in my mouth, but I knew what I had always hoped and prayed someone would do to me, and bet he'd be in the same boat. I started working the head with my tongue, running in thick circles around the rim, teasing him. Flicking his piss slit, just to keep his attention. He let out an obscene moan, more real than any porn star could make.

And it fucking fired me up.

I fucking sucked him down, down his shaft. Deep. As deep as could. I gagged and pulled back, but fucking tried again. Swallowing down. Deep. Garrett writhed underneath me, letting loose some unholy sounds, not even able to make human speech. He didn't need to give me direction; I'm a guy. I instinctively knew what to do.

I fucking went after him. Fast and hard. Actual suction, unlike when a woman just kinda bobs weakly. I fucking took him and made his dick mine. His hands were all over me. Gripping, massaging my scalp, fingers through my short hair. His other on my shoulder. Not guiding me, not needing to. Just alive with the touch. With a free hand I roughly pulled his shorts and underwear down, laying his whole crotch open. I was mouth fucking him, fast up and down the head. There was a new taste—slick and almost sweet. He must have been leaking precum.

I licked down his shaft, all the way to the base. His balls. His fucking hairy balls. His scent was strongest here, and it was like blowing up my brain. I went after them. Hard. Mouthing them. Sucking them. One, then the other. Forcefully. Matting his hairy balls with my spit. Tasting him. My nose pressed into his bush, breathing him in. Sucking hard. As hard as I dared. Garrett was fucking growling like a jungle cat.

I moved up his shaft, sideways. Moving my mouth up the entire length. Taking him my mouth again. Teasing him. Working him. And then letting him fucking have it. Mouth fucking him. Jerking him in time with my mouth. Giving him something he'd never gotten before. Giving him something no woman could. Fast. Furious. He tore his shirt over his head, I swept up my free hand, gripping his hairy nipple. Hard. He didn't know what to do with himself. His hands all over me. Roaring. My heart racing.

He hit critical mass. I could feel every muscle tense. See his balls rear up. Hear his hoarse cries sharpen and rise. Garrett nearly lifting himself off my couch. Finally, he shouted out a desperate warning, "Holy shit, I'M GONNA CUM!"...

...and BAM! The man started spewing cum like a fucking water cannon. Flooding my mouth. I realized I had no idea what to do. A moment of panic as for a minute it felt like I was drowning. I desperately started to swallow, but there was no way I could keep up. I ultimately let loose a gagging cough, splattering his seed all over.

Finally it subsided. I realized he was gripping my shoulder so lightly it ached. I looked down, seeing the spray of cum on his crotch. Oozing down his balls. Cum. It had tasted... weird. Salty, like thick sea water. Maybe nutty.

I went down on him again, gentler, knowing he was going to be sensitive to my touch. I let the wet softness of my tongue bring him back. Slurping up his spunk. Garrett's bellows had softened somewhat, becoming more a lingering moan. His legs flexing toward each other with me between them. I worked the head until I could feel him squirm, then pulled back and started working the shaft. Tasting his cum. Swallowing it all down. Giving him the full experience. Amazingly, he really didn't go all that soft. I still had his undivided attention.

As he never really pushed me off, never really said anything to end things, I kept going. I think it took him a little off guard. No woman, certainly not his wife, would have done so much for him. No woman, certainly not his wife, would so cheerfully kept going. Making him feel good. I went lower again, and buried my face in his hairy balls, working them over all over again. His musky scent of sex filling my nose. Somewhere above me I heard him growl out an appreciative, "Fuuuuuuuuck!"

He was still completely turned on. On sexual high alert. And... it dawned on me that... I was too.

This was so weird. I hadn't even touched my dick, hadn't gotten any kind of attention in any way... and I was hard as fucking steel, and horny as fuck. Really feeling his sexual joy. Really feeling the power of giving a guy something like that. Not even thinking about having him return the favor. That feeling of accomplishment.

And, God help me... that feeling of sexual excitement. It was everything. The closeness of us. The smell. The taste. The sound. The feel.

I mouthed all around his crotch, slurping up his cumsplatter. And he groaned like a bitch in heat. His hands in my hair. I went back to his cockhead, and started going after him again. Fast and furious. Holy shit—he was hard as fuck, like he hadn't just blasted a major load. Hotter than fuck. Both of us were.

And that was it. Curiosity, hunger, and a half-dozen things came together in my mind. I realized what I had to do. My one shot at something I'd never let myself think about.

Silently, while still working his dick over with my mouth, I pulled off my lounge shots. I pulled back off his cock just long enough to hack up some phlegm, spit in onto my fingers, and smeared them around my bunghole. And without a word, I slid up over his lap, and lined us up. Dick to ass.

Garrett's head had been lolling wildly as I worked him, but he now went stock straight, snapping his head to look at me with animal intensity. He didn't quite believe. Was afraid to believe. But was desperate to believe. I rocked back and forth over his dick. Letting it find me by feeling alone. Feeling his head at my chute. Swirling in an obscene hula dance, letting it pull my pucker open.

And then I fucking pushed down... and let his cockhead rip me open.

Our heads flew back in unison. He gasped in astonishment. I shouted in pain. I pulled off and retried. I little easier. Tried again. A little easier. Below me, Garrett was fucking writhing. I could feel him reaching up with his entire being trying to ram his dick home. Finally I bit down, and pushed. POP! His head inside me. And we both roared.

"Wait, man," I growled out. You're fucking huge. Gimme a minute!"

"Oh God, oh God... oh GOD! I'm inside you! I'm FUCKING INSIDE YOU!"

"Wait man. Work with me." I waited. Waited. Better. I rolled my hips in circles. Better. Rocked slightly. The motion was working. Feeling better. Barely. But better. I was starting to think I could go through with it. I started more of an up and down motion. Mini-fucking. Up and down, each stroke getting more and more of him inside me. Yeah, definitely better now. Still an icy pain, but workable. I was telling myself to just breathe. Breathe. Little motion. Little...

...hooooooo GOD! GODGODGOD!

Something! His dick hit something inside me. And I fucking turned ON. It was like sparks as I swung a sword against a rock. Sparks. SPARKS THAT DIDN'T GO OUT BUT KEPT BURNING. Suddenly my body was starting to... fucking boil. That icy pain was suddenly wrapped around fiery heat. Raw. Fucking Raw. I started desperately bouncing, hitting that spot again and again. Each time the fire burned hotter. HOTTER. OH MY FUCKING GOD.

Garrett sensed the change, sensed... something. Suddenly he was gripping me so hard I though his fingernails would draw blood. Looking at me with fire to match my own. Fire that would have terrified a woman.

It just made me hotter.

No more pussyfooting. I started fucking slamming my ass on his cock. The fire exploded in my mind. Slamming. Needing more. I could feel every vein in his cock as it slid inside me. Fucking FEEL his cockhead rip through me. My mind exploding. Holy fuck, it was like NOTHING I HAD EVER EXPERIENCED. Slamming. Slamming down, until I realized I could feel his crotch hair kissing my overstuffed hole. Full. Full of man-dick. Feeling hotter than I had ever felt in my life.

And I fucking FUCKED him.

There was no technique. I had no idea what the fuck I was doing. I was on fire, and needed more. FUCKING MORE. I was fucking roaring, my throat feeling like I was tearing it apart. MORE. FUCKING. Slamming wildly. Desperate. It was like all the sparks inside me exploded into fireworks, that never went out but kept exploding. Raw. The reptile part of my brain screaming with unholy life. All my pent-up feelings of frustration, feelings of loneliness, the endless grind of a competitive program burning in a bonfire of out-of-control sexual passion. A bonfire set by Garrett's fucking cock inside me. Slamming. Absolute release of everything. Slamming. Freedom. True Freedom. Slamming. Jesus fucking Christ... it was like I was nearly cumming. But it kept going. Kept building. CUMMING.

And then... way, way too fast... I realized I actually was cumming. Not even touching my dick. The fire inside me went nuclear. Rushing in my ears. My vision pure white. And my cock exploded the biggest load of my life all over us. Drenching us. Baptizing us into a new world of raw, unbroken masculinity. My screams could have blasted the paint from the walls.

I... don't know what really happened... I couldn't think straight, couldn't even see straight. But I felt myself being slammed on my back, knocking the wind out of me. Still on the couch. My legs flexed and splayed to either side of Garrett's hips, his dick still balls deep in me... and then he fucking unleashed on me. Thank God I was still riding that orgasmic high, or I don't know if I could have taken it. He fucking started to piledrive me as if he was raping his worst enemy. The fire inside me roaring non-stop. My skin feeling like lightning was dancing across it. Garrett's face, scrunched up in bestial wrath, his sweat raining down on me.

I had never been so fucking turned on in my entire life.

Raw, roaring fucking to shatter the fucking world. I can't even guess how long. And then, his movements went wild. Desperate. His face contorted wildly. Making sounds like a Grizzley Bear in heat. His head slammed against me, and I could feel his teeth sink into my shoulder. And I swear I could feel his dick rear up inside me as he blew again. It was too much. The experience exploded my mind, and I realized that I was fucking cumming with him. Again.

I was spent. My body feeling like it had been turned inside out. I lay there, trying to get my bearings, trying to get my head around what happened. Wildly disoriented. But... holy fuck. I can tell you right there, right then, that I had never felt so alive in my entire fucking life. I realized I was unconsciously jerking myself, even though I had just shot two wads, unable to let that feeling go.

Then, it suddenly occurred to me that Garrett was on the phone. I slid back to reality, and somehow made out his words: "Hi babe, it's me. No, good, good... it's all fine. How's your ladies' night in? Yeah? Yeah. Yeah. Ha! Hoo boy. Well, no... I just wanted to call and say Blake pulled out a very fine bottle of bourbon, and it's gone so smoothly it's like I've been skating on velvet. Way too easy. Uh-huh. Yeah, I think there's no way I'm good to drive... I'm fixin' to crash here tonight. That OK? Yeah. Yeah... sure. Ok. Say hi to everyone, and I'll see you in the morning. Love ya!"

With that he turned back to me. The fucker was rock hard again. "Alright, so where were we...?"

The rest of the night was unbelievable. He fucked me raw, louder, harder, more ferociously than I would have thought possible. And I was throwing back at him just as hard. It was... like nothing I'd ever experienced. Didn't stop to think, barely stopped to breathe, just the most primal, the most physical, the most fucking wild sex either of us had ever had in our lives. All instinct. All hunger. Pushing boundaries we didn't know we had.

But in the end... I think we crossed a different boundary. It was that last time, sometime between night and morning, when much of the raw fire and desperation had been burned away, and we just were... living it. Letting everything wash over us.

I was on my belly, and Garrett was on top of me. Balls deep in my guts. His thrusts slower, but somehow more raw. With the intensity that only another man could bring. I could... feel... his hairy chest against me. The friction of his wiry hair against me. Against my sweaty back. Our shared sweat. His one arm wrapped around underneath me, working my hairy nipple. The other rubbing up and down my own arm stretched out in front of me. The feel of his stubble shredding my cheek... him moving slightly, so our scruffy jaws grated against each other. That burning. Against the wet suction as his dick churned inside me. I don't know what it was, but I had this... euphoria. Like endless... connection. Raw, unfiltered feelings I couldn't explain, let alone express. With him. My best friend. Sharing something so deep, so intensely masculine. Something no woman could ever understand. Emotions I never felt before washing all over me...

...I turned my face slightly. Meeting his. I don't know what came over me. What I was thinking. But my lips came together and found his. Just a flicker. A brush. Then a second one. And another, and then... an honest kiss. Kiss.

Kiss.

In that moment, I felt more connected to a person than I had ever felt before. Like we had jumped off a cliff into the sea together. Lost forever in the churning surf. Like I finally knew True Intimacy.

But for all that, it was... like, intimacy without romance. That romance could never adequately describe it. I don't know how else to explain things. Like our connection together was so deep, so endlessly deep and wide, that could never be limited to simple romance. Like we had found some secret, hidden version of ourselves that would outlast time. Together. A deeper connection than humanly possible. And when we finally came, it was like... nothing else in my life. Something that made me rethink everything I knew.

It was a moment of pure magic. Wrapped in the best sex of my life.

Unfortunately, it wasn't to be repeated.

After that, I didn't know what to say to Garrett... what I could possibly say. Hell, I didn't know what to think. My head was still reeling from that night, knowing another guy brought me to a place I couldn't describe. That a married guy brought me to a place I couldn't describe.

And then only a week or so later, I flew across the country to start my summer fellowship. It went surprisingly well, and at the end they asked me to come on full-time, with a salary I couldn't possibly say no to. I worked things out with the university and my new employers to finish up my degree remotely. The last time I went back there was to pack up everything for the move north.

That was a whirlwind trip, as I essentially had 48 hours to get everything into the cargo van I had rented. Garrett and Ellie both were absolute heroes, and I could never have pulled it off without their help. And... I didn't feel like I deserved it. Like I was brushing aside something... missing something. Something that hadn't even really come into focus before vanishing.

That last morning, they both swung by to make sure I had everything and to see me off. Garrett didn't say a word as he loaded up the last of the boxes. When it was done, he just... hugged me. We stayed like that for a long, long time. Silent. Absolutely silent. His scent, slightly touched with fresh sweat, burned into my memory forever. While driving off, I saw through my rear-view mirror that he walked to the middle of the street, just watching... watching... until we couldn't see each other anymore.

I cried most of the first hour of my drive.

That chapter of my life was over, and a new one started. Garrett and I stayed in touch, as much as young guys ever do. A few years later, when I found the perfect girl, he came up to be one of my groomsmen. It was a whirlwind week, and I barely got to talk to him alone before the wedding. But all those memories, all the feelings, and all that closeness instantly came back, like we had never been apart. But I was still missing something. Something I couldn't explain. And had no right to expect.

But you know, it's curious. He just called me the other day... he's going to coming to my city for a conference in a few weeks. Staying at one of the big hotels downtown connected to the convention center.

...And I wonder...

All of us enjoy the stories here, so please, support Nifty. Like any other business, it takes resources to keep it running.

Nifty appreciates your support, and so do I!