The following story, while having some truth as its basis, is fictional. Your comments and constructive criticism are welcome at: dallasoral@tx.rr.com
This story is written for the enjoyment of adult males. If you aren't an adult male who enjoys materials of a sexual nature between two men, please do not read this story.
The Fireplace Author: W. B. Minor
Yes, I'm pretty drunk.
It's about 3AM, and I'm sitting on the couch, in the living room of my best friend Terry's house. He's passed out on the floor, on his back, in front of a beautiful fire. It had all the makings of one more disappointing night of drinking at our favorite gay bar being teased by gorgeous strippers, and consuming mass quantities of beer in pitchers. Don't get me wrong, being with Terry, drinking and playing with strippers is never disappointing. This part, where he's passed out and I'm horny seems to be where we always end up. The boy can sleep through a train wreck and never even twitch.
Terry is more than just my best friend. He's half my age, about 5'10", 150 pounds, blondish, and just about as cute as you can imagine. He dresses impeccably, whether in business clothes or, as he is now, in a form-fitting shirt, and jeans carefully torn in all the right places to make you drool, but never show the whole story. You can tell his dick sits to the right because there's just enough wear on the jeans to be able to see a hint of what's hiding underneath. I'm a middle-aged, very average guy with a bit more weight on my frame than I should have. When we walk into a bar, and the eyes inevitably look at us, I can read the minds of all the other guys who want to know "why the hell does that cutie spend his time with the old guy?" I don't mind. In fact, I sort of like that some of them are jealous as hell.
I may be the older of us, but Terry's much more "gay experienced" than I. I came out late in life, to him, and he's been my gay mentor ever since. Most of my gay education (except the sex parts) has come from him, in long conversations and his suggestions regarding where I might get to experience the better side of gay life, and yes, even the sleazy parts. I learned about things like bathhouses, back rooms, sucking dick in the back seat of cars, and making out in the bathroom of a bar, by listening carefully to his stories. He's a great storyteller. At some point, I'll tell you about my progression, but tonight is all about how I broke the sex barrier with Terry, and lived to tell about it.
It's getting later, and my dick is getting hard. Terry and I have talked about our dicks, and based on those conversations, we're about the same length, but he claims to be thicker than me. He's also a major size queen, so nothing I have will pique his interest. I decide to at least make a little contact, so I move down to the carpeted floor, and lay down so he's between the fire and me. He doesn't move a muscle, and is making that noise he always makes when he's asleep after drinking.
I do a little experiment to see if he's really in deep sleep. About the only thing feminine about Terry is his hands--they're almost delicate--small, but with longish fingers. Since he practically bathes in moisturizer, his skin is silky smooth. I love holding his hands, which we do frequently when we're out. His left hand is closest to me, and I gingerly pick it up and hold it in mine. Just that one little act makes my dick twitch. There's no indication that he's even aware anyone else is in the room, so I take one more step. Turning his hand so it's palm down, I run it across the side of my face, and while I love the feeling, still no reaction from Terry.
Emboldened, I put that same hand over my crotch, hoping some reflex on his part would cause him to grope a bit, but no, still no reaction. I enjoy the idea that he's "feeling me up."
I've always thought he had what I call "duck lips." These are slightly protruding, especially in the middle, and on the right guys, it's a really hot look. He has it in spades, and I think is one of the main reasons I lust after him. Carefully placing his hand back on his tummy, I lean over and give him a little kiss. This is nothing serious, just enough that I can feel them against mine, and get even hotter. Have you ever been doing something sexual, that's so hot in your mind that it makes you shudder? That's what I was feeling kissing him, and now my dick was fully hard and pulsing against the inside of my underwear. I wet my lips and did it again, a little harder and for a longer time. Finally I stuck my tongue between his lips and could feel his teeth. Damn, this feels great, is much better than what I imagined it would be, so I continue pushing my tongue between his lips for a minute or so. I'm so excited by now, that I think I may pass out, so I take a break long enough to just sit back and enjoy the sensations.
I want more. I can't just stop now, and never know how far I could have gotten. Besides, who knows when this chance will come up again? It's at this point that I decide I'm going to explore as much as I can, even understanding that if he wakes up, it could ruin a wonderful friendship. When you're this horny, your dick is doing all the thinking, so I just say fuck it in my mind, and decide it's worth the risk. I'm pretty sure it wouldn't ruin the relationship I have with Terry, since he knows what a horn dog I can be, but you never really know. Have I mentioned that he wears this intoxicating fragrance that drives me crazy? He wore it tonight, and that isn't helping matters.
I've always wanted to just touch his skin, so I gently try to pull the shirt out of his pants so I can see his chest and belly. He's worn his "slightly tight" jeans tonight, so this isn't working well at all. I have no choice. I very carefully undo his belt buckle, then ever so gently open the top button of his jeans. Now the shirt is much easier to pull up without jerking his body around. I'm still amazed that there has been absolutely no indication that he even knows what's happening. Maybe he was telling the truth that he was a very deep sleeper after all. I sure hope so, because I'm nearly exploding with excitement. My hands are actually trembling.
Not wanting to take more chances than necessary, I pull just the tail of the front side of the shirt out of his pants enough so I can take a quick look. He has just a small amount of hair in the center of his chest, and that little strip below the belly button that points to the real goal. I leave the shirt down to prevent cool air from hitting his skin, and cautiously move my left hand under the shirt, but not touching skin until my hand is over the top of his chest. Being very careful to just barely touch, my fingers come in contact with the hairs in the center of Terry's chest. It's like the sound in the entire world stopped for a second, with me waiting for him to suddenly wake up wanting to know just exactly what the fuck I think I'm doing. But that doesn't happen, and I'm working really hard to stop my breathing from sounding like a freight train.
My hand now rests lightly in the middle of his chest, and I slowly move it to the left so my fingertips come in contact with his nipple. I move my index finger around in a circle, and damn if it doesn't pop up like a little soldier. Terry has always said he's not into nipple play, and while he doesn't hate it, it just doesn't do much for him. I have to assume that anyone's nipple would get hard when it's manipulated, even when they're sleeping. At least I hope the hell that's the case. Otherwise he's awake and my life is about to change. Again, nothing happens, so I move over to the other one and am able to do the same thing. Now I have the nipple between my thumb and finger sort of squeezing, and while it's cool that I could make that happen, I see what he means, it's not all that exciting. That doesn't stop me from checking the other one to see if it's still hard, and it is.
How does anyone sleep through this? I would have been wide awake the second someone touched my hand if I was asleep. Right now however, I'm extremely grateful that Terry's one of those people who keeps on sleeping.
I move my hand down from his chest to his stomach, and content myself with running my hand carefully back and forth over some of the smoothest skin I've ever felt. Whatever he's doing with the moisturizer is working. For some reason, other than actually being in contact with his body, this part isn't quite as exciting. That's probably OK, because I have to pee, if that's even possible through the hard on in my pants. Without putting things back together, I quietly get up and head to the bathroom.
While I'm standing there trying to push piss through my hard six-inch dick, I start asking myself what the fuck is wrong with me. Is this a moral thing to do? Could I be accused of assault or even rape? Am I so violating his private space that I should be ashamed of myself? Yes, probably, but that doesn't seem to have an effect on how hard my dick is, and as most of you can testify, we guys always try to get our dicks what they want. I'm finally able to pee out most of the beer that was left, and am surprised to find that I'm really not drunk at all anymore.
When I got back to the living room, my dick has subsided a bit, and isn't nearly as uncomfortable as it was. Shit! While I was gone, Terry changed positions and was now lying on his right side, and in a position that would make it very difficult to go much farther. He's now facing the fire--thank the gods for gas fireplaces. What am I going to do now? Sure, I've had more physical contact with him than ever, but there are so many other things to do. Did he change positions because he was waking up? I walk around to the fireplace and notice his belt and pants are still opened, and the shirt is still hanging out, so whatever the reason, he looks like he's still asleep.
I'm going to give this the acid test and try to wake Terry up. I kneel down in front of him and shake his shoulder. "Terry," I say, "wake up, you don't want to sleep all night on the floor." I shake him again, and he turns his head, looks up at me with that goofy, drunken smile on his face and he's slurring so much I can't tell what he's saying. He closes his eyes, and in a minute or so is back to sleep breathing again. If that doesn't wake him up, nothing will.
When he sort of woke up, he rolled back a little, so he isn't quite on his side anymore. It's a simple matter to turn him completely on his back. I hear him take a really deep breath, and I freeze, staring at his face. Even though my hands are on his upper arm and waist moving him to his back, I don't move. False alarm. He's back in the land of nod.
Exhausted, but excited, I lay back down next to him, but this time I'm between him and the fire because I want to be able to use my right hand. For some reason, I reach under his shirt and make his nipples hard again. So shoot me. I don't know why, I just did it, and yeah, they popped right back up again. I may have to look that up one of these days.
The index finger on my right hand moves down to that strip of hair below Terry's belly button. I slowly slide my finger down the length of it until I reach the top of his underwear. Good grief, I'm back to shaking again, and yes my dick is responding too. Very, very carefully, I slide my hand under his jeans, but over the undies, until I think I've reach the spot. My hand lowers until I can feel his soft dick underneath. It's not very big, but I can feel the head. He must be a grower. I move my hand around so I can feel the head of his dick with my fingers. He has these mini-briefs on that sort of have a nylon, sexy feeling. They're thin enough that I can really feel his whole dick like there's no underwear at all, but of course there are. I realize I'm going to be hampered by all this cloth, so I remove my hand and quietly unzip his jeans and pull them apart, giving me better access.
This next part is going to be really tricky, and not a little dangerous from the standpoint of waking him up. With his jeans fully opened, I can see the pattern on his underwear, and the outline of his dick. I slide my right hand inside the jeans and feel his balls through the thin cloth. They're perfectly shaped, and I suspect it would be fun to work them if he was naked, that will have to wait for another day. With great effort, I work his jeans down a couple inches on each side. Using my left hand, I lift the front waist of his briefs and push them down so they're hooked under his balls.
Now I can see his whole, soft dick as it lies there in its nest of neatly trimmed pubic hair. I should have assumed that wouldn't be left unattended. He's such a neat freak. I take a minute to make sure he's still sleeping, and sure enough, nothing has changed. Having trouble keeping my hand from shaking, I reach out and pick up his dick and just feel it. It's really hot to touch and so soft. I begin moving my fingers up and down the shaft, very slowly, and very gently. My finger runs the circle around the head of Terry's dick, then goes back to stroking. Suddenly I notice his dick is puffing up, and getting longer. The head is bigger than the rest. Quickly I look at Terry carefully. He must be awake or this wouldn't be happening. If he is, he's doing an amazing job of pretending, so feeling a little braver; I stroke just a little faster, and squeeze just a bit. After about 30 seconds or so of jacking him off, his dick is sticking straight up and is hard in my hand. My head is spinning I'm so hot. I can't believe that soft, little dick I first saw turns into this hard piece of meat.
He wasn't making it up, Terry's hard cock is a good six inches, and really fat. It's a brownish color, and hard, the head is damn near shining and purple. I'm slowly stroking his dick from head to base, twisting my hand when it's up near the tip. I stop jacking and just concentrate running my fingertips around the head, just sort of stroking them up and down on the ridge. A little drop of liquid appears at the tip and I lift it off with my finger, and lick it. From this taste, I suspect his cum wouldn't be at all unpleasant. By now my face must be beet red because I feel hot. Not like "wow is that hot," more like my face is radiating heat. I keep watching Terry's face for any evidence of change, and there still isn't any.
Throwing caution to the wind, I lean over and lick the head of his dick with my tongue. I like the taste of dick, the heat, the flavor, the little drops of liquid at the tip, combined with the man smells of even a clean crotch, and who wouldn't. I run my tongue under the head for a few seconds, and am rewarded with another drop of precum. I open my mouth and take the whole head in, moving my tongue all over the tip of Terry's dick. This is like my dream come true. I only wish he was awake and doing the same thing to me.
I start sucking his dick in earnest now, my wet mouth sliding up and down his fat dick, enjoying the sensations only a dick can give you. Even as fat as this six incher is, I'm able to take it all the way so my nose is buried in pubes on the down stroke. I'm starting to taste more and more precum, so I stop at the head to enjoy it, and pay more attention to the sensitive part of every guy's dick. With just the head in my mouth and my hand doing some gentle stroking, I feel the head getting bigger, and suddenly I have cum on my tongue, and more oozing out of Terry's dick. I suck harder and swallow everything I can get. He doesn't cum a lot, but it's a nice load and tastes pretty good. His dick starts to soften, and while I really don't want to let it go, I realize it's time to put him back together, even though I'm still hard as a rock.
I put his dick back in his underwear, tuck the shirt back in and fasten up his pants. If anyone walked in the room, they'd never know what happened. Finally, I take my dick out and start jacking off. I have the brilliant idea of taking Terry's hand and using it to jack off, so I wrap his fingers around my hard dick and begin stroking. His hand feels really good as I move it up and down my dick, when I realize his hand is squeezing my dick all by itself. I look at Terry's face, and his eyes are just opened like little slits, and he has a shit-eating grin on his face. I let go of my dick and he continues to pump me. This is the most amazing feeling I've ever had. I just sucked off my best friend and now he's finishing me off with his hand. Just as I finish that thought, I cum, and shoot my load on his shirt. He brings his cum-covered hand to his mouth and licks it off, then turns over and falls asleep.
I put my dick back in my pants, find my coat and keys, and drive home, one very happy faggot.