Dillon - Post Nut Clarity

Amongst other things, I always took pride in my ability to make an awkward situation comfortable. When you go through puberty while also playing sports, you learn to not feel awkward about your body, nakedness, and, more importantly, other guys' bodies and nakedness. Leading up to last week's Halloween party, I had really lost any shyness about my nudity or my roommate Alessandro’s nudity, to the point where our jerking off five feet from each other had become not just a regular thing, but something we both were looking forward to. However, my ability to make an awkward situation comfortable was really tested after we had way too much to drink and ended up having sex that night. 

The morning after, I thought we were both going to be cool with it. I was ready to chalk it up to drunken horniness and just getting caught up in the moment, but Alessandro seemed to be uncomfortable at breakfast. What could I say, though? He made it clear he wanted to pretend it didn’t happen when he said he “blacked out” last night. At the same time, I can’t think of a way to joke about me having his cum in my ass, so I decided to ignore the awkwardness and power through. Making small talk about the upcoming week, and both of us groaning about having to trek over to the frat house to help clean up from the party.

While cleaning the house, Alessandro and I had gotten into a goofy rhythm that lightened the mood, and it started to feel like last night had been something I made up in my head. That is, until Tank came back to the house with four stuffed grocery bags dangling from each of his massive arms, loud as all hell as he stumbled into the kitchen.

“You need a hand with those?” I asked, trying to be helpful.

He winked at me, “I got ‘em sweetie, but if you want to put your little skirt back on and give me a hand with something else…I wouldn’t say no,” he cackled at his own joke. I tensed up at the mention of my denim skirt that was definitely still lying on the floor in our dorm room, covered in my cum from when I blew my load last night. The mental image flashed through my mind, and I blushed, remembering how good it felt to ride Aley’s dick until I had the most amazing orgasm of my life. “I’m only kidding, Jesus,” Tank growled. “You fags are so uptight,” he dropped all the bags on the floor with a loud thud, and some other jangling as the contents shifted.

I rolled my eyes and tried to act normal, even though I felt a new sense of…I guess ownership of the word ‘fag’ and felt I should speak out even louder than I had in the past about people using it as a slur. I clammed up, though, fear of sounding too defensive, as if suddenly speaking up would be the same as pulling a rainbow flag out of my ass and shouting, “I let Alessandro fuck me last night!” I looked over at Aley, and he was like a deer in headlights, trying his best not to make eye contact with me.

I rolled my eyes, then suddenly felt pre-Halloween Dillon take back my body, and I grinned at Tank, cocking my head to the side, “Huh…you think I’m gay? Because…last night, I seem to recall you…”

He cut me off, “Fuck you, Dillon, I was joking and you know it.” He huffed and stormed out of the kitchen.

I felt victory wash over me. Like I hit a grand slam. I looked over at Aley, expecting that grin he always gives me when I shit talk Tank and get one over on him. Instead, it was the deer in headlights, like I punched him in the gut or something. “You ok?”

He forced a half-hearted smile, cleared his throat before saying, “Yeah, I’m just still hungover, I think. I really had way too much.” He shook his head and turned to keep cleaning the kitchen counters, which were sticky with dried beer and mixers.

The next few days, Aley seemed to be avoiding me. Or maybe that was in my head. He wasn’t home at his usual times, and on the days we would’ve normally been jerking off together before bed, he was already asleep when I got back to the dorm. Maybe I was thinking too hard about it.

While I wasn’t feeling nearly as awkward about what had happened as Aley was, I was definitely confused by it. I had only jerked off twice by Friday, and both times, I tried my best just to get off as quickly as possible so I didn’t think about Aley, more so, how good it felt to have a dick in my ass. It didn’t work. Even with porn, as I stroked closer and closer to orgasm, I found myself looking at the dick in the scene and wondering if it felt as good for that woman to get fucked as it had felt for me. Then my brain would drift and remember every detail of Aley’s dick in my ass as I rode him and we both blew our loads. Both jerk off sessions, that was my last thought, and it pushed me over the edge. In the post-nut clarity, I couldn’t help but be grossed out that that’s what sent me over the edge, but also a little annoyed that my brain can remember every ridge and throb of Alessandro’s cock, but can’t remember how to calculate the length of an arc when I studied it over and over the night before my exam.

Saturday night, we had a small party at the frat house for one of the pledges’ birthdays. Since it was his birthday, the house President had all the other pledges waiting on him hand and foot, literally. Most of us just enjoyed the chill evening as we took turns battling on Halo. We had teams and a leaderboard as part of an ongoing battle in the house. My partner was nowhere to be found tonight, I assume still avoiding me, so I had to sit this one out and just be the lead in shit-talking.

After a few drinks, I was debating heading back to the dorm. However, I didn’t want to get in too early if Alessandro was going to be home. I tend to be…extremely honest after a few drinks, and I know he doesn’t want me telling him I know he remembers what we did last week, so I decided to stick around for a bit.

“I ordered pizza, whoever flies doesn’t have to buy,” Anton, the frat Treasurer, called out to the room as he walked in, clutching the wireless handset in his fist and tapping it into the palm of his other hand.

“I’ll go,” both Tank and I raised our hands at the same time.

Anton chuckled, “I don’t know who offered first, you’re both off the hook.” Then he paused, “Wait, Dillon, how much have you had to drink?”

“Uhh…like, three,” I lied, knowing I was mostly done with my fourth beer.

He squinted at me, then turned to Tank, “How many have you had?”

“Only two,” he lied. I watched him down three and knew he had one before I had my first.

Anton looked between us, sighed, “Uh, both of you go, Tank…you drive, Dillon can’t handle his alcohol, we all know he’s a two beer queer.” He handed Tank an envelope with cash in it. 

Tank chuckled at the dig about me being a lightweight. “Let’s go, princess,” he said, grabbing a hoodie to put over his muscle tank.

We got in his car. A ‘97 Honda Civic, way too small for a guy his size, but with the seat pushed all the way back until it practically touched the back seat, he did seem to fit. He put the key in the ignition, and it started with a roar, a clank, and a squeal that made me question if this was a huge mistake. He blasted the heater, but it only blew cold air. Then he leaned over to the glove box and pulled out a travel-sized bottle of mouthwash, put it in his mouth, and swished it around.

I folded my arms for warmth. “What are you doing?”

He opened the door and spat it out into the driveway. “Getting ready to kiss you,” he quipped. I felt my lungs stop working. Then he chuckled, “Relax, if we get pulled over, I don’t want to have alcohol on my breath.”

“Oh,” I nodded as he grabbed his seatbelt and put the car into reverse all at the same time. I quickly belted in and was impressed with how he handled the stick shift. I’ve never known anyone to actually use a manual shift, so I was oddly impressed by Tank. I’ve always thought of him as the house neanderthal, but from time to time, he does little things like show off a skill I don’t have, and I gain a little more respect for him.

The pizza place is only seven minutes down the road, but Tank got us there in five minutes. He handed me the envelope, slapping it to my chest. His massive paw was the only warm thing in the car because the air still hadn’t turned warm. “You go collect,” he growled. I didn’t question it. After all, he drove. Anton was right, I am drunk, I chuckled to myself.

When I went inside, the guy behind the counter said it would be another 10 minutes. I paid, then went back to the car. Tank rolled down his window as I walked out, and I went over to it, handing him the envelope with the change inside. “Guess we got here too fast,” I said, leaning into the window, feeling heat finally coming from inside. I reached in and put my hands in front of the vents, and Tank let out a deep rumbly chuckle.

“Why don’t you put your hands in my lap? It’s the warmest part of the body,” he waggled his eyebrows at me.

I know he was joking, or at least, I thought he was joking, but this line of joking was getting annoying fast, so I decided to nip it in the bud. “I’ll bet that’s what you tell all the girls,” I grinned, expecting it to wipe the smile off his face when he realized I was referencing the moment he mistook me for an actual girl at the Halloween party and ground his crotch on my ass.

“Only the ones I want to fuck,” he fired back a little too quickly, and it caught me off guard.

I felt my heart start pounding in my chest. Is he joking? Does he know what me and Alessandro did last weekend? I felt my face flush as I pulled my hands out of the car. The grin on his face led me to believe he was only joking, and I just lost this game of gay chicken. I rolled my eyes, “I’m going inside where it’s warm.”

I went in and waited as they finished baking our pizza, trying to kick the dirty thoughts running through my head. What the fuck is wrong with me? I have sex with a guy once, and now my dick suddenly starts coming to life at the mere suggestion of sex with even a caveman like Tank? I shook my head and tried to focus on something else. Anything else. My brain or maybe my balls wouldn’t let me, though. I started trying to remember if I’ve ever seen Tank naked. I’ve definitely seen him shirtless; he’s built, but not cut. He could easily bench press me.

‘No. I’m not gay, Tank is not gay, I’m being stupid.’ I told myself. Then again…Tank did feel me up at the Halloween party. He claimed it was a prank, but he definitely chubbed up when he pressed himself against my ass. Is that why I was so horny back at the dorm? Because Tank felt me up? I mean…he barely grazed my balls from outside my underwear, I’ve copped a bigger feel when wrestling with my friends back in high school, and I was never turned on by any of them.

I glanced out the window to see Tank’s mouth moving. At first, I thought he was trying to mouth something to me, but then I realized he wasn’t looking at me, and I caught a little dance move. Wait, is he singing along to the radio? Ok, that’s kinda adorable.

“Here ya go, kid,” the heavy-set guy in the too-tight apron behind the counter shouted as he slid four pizza boxes across the faded and chipped formica.

I grabbed the boxes and practically ran out of the store. I set the pizzas on the roof so I could open the car door. As soon as it cracked open, I heard the radio blasting the end of Bonnie Tyler’s “Holding Out For A Hero,” and couldn’t help but chuckle as it sank in that this was the song Tank was singing along to.

The warm pizzas in my lap were both comforting in the cold November night, but also kinda felt like I pissed myself, and I chuckled.

“What?” Tank asked.

“Nothing,” I shook my head.

“What?” he asked with a whine in his voice.

“The warm pizza on my lap made me think…it kinda feels like I peed my pants,” I shrugged.

He chuckled, “Oh man, I know the feeling,” he grinned as he shifted gears, speeding up to the red light.

I raised an eyebrow, “You pee your pants often?”

He cackled, “No, asshole. My mom has heated seats in her car, and the first time I drove it I didn’t know it had heated seats. About five minutes down the road, it heated up so quickly I thought I pissed myself,” he laughed hard, which made me laugh. Then I caught him adjusting himself in his jeans, and my brain instantly locked onto the girth of the bulge he just adjusted, and blood started flowing to my downstairs.

This excitement in my pants activated my ‘am I gay’ panic. Which quickly deflated what had started inflating in my underwear. Before I could start analyzing ‘what it all means,’ the car pulled into the frat house's driveway, and Tank yanked the e-brake; the loud engagement of the brakes pulled me out of my head.

The rest of the night was mostly chill. More video games, more beer, and a couple slices of pizza. No gay thoughts, no random boners.

When I got back to my dorm room, Alessandro was already asleep. He had the covers pulled up to his shoulders, but one leg was out of the blanket, and I could see all the way up to his hip. I couldn’t help but notice he was wearing the white bikini briefs I had worn the night of the Halloween party, the same ones he slipped off of me before popping my anal cherry. About seventy questions ran through my mind, but the most confusing one was my dick reacting to the sight of two inches of white fabric on his hip. 

I tried to ignore it, shaking the thoughts out of my head. I quietly stripped down to my own classic FTL white briefs and got into bed. The glow from the moon outside gave me a great view of Aley’s leg, and my dick just kept getting harder. I decided this was just a side effect of having too much beer and too little sex. But I tucked my briefs below my balls and started quietly stroking my dick. I couldn’t help but stare at Aley’s leg. The images from last week popped into my head, but more than that was the reminder of how good it felt.

It might be the beer, but I decided to dip my fingers below my balls with my free hand and tease my hole a little as I continued to stroke. I have never fingered myself before, and even the gentle rubbing of my pucker felt good, which only encouraged my brain to remember last Saturday’s experience, how good it felt to have Aley’s thick, 6.5 cut inches slide into me. My memory of the event was definitely through rose colored glasses, forgetting that sting and the stretching feeling that made his dick feel bigger than a baseball bat. All I could think about was how good it felt pumping inside me with each gentle thrust, and that magical feeling inside me as my balls tightened and he pumped into me as I shot my load.

That only made me think of how he shot his load inside me, and I wanted to be grossed out by it. That’s how straight guys feel about another guy cumming inside them, right? But fuck, it felt so good, I couldn’t help but groan at the memory, and it pushed me over the edge, pumping molten hot cum onto my stomach as I enjoyed my silent orgasm.

I caught my breath and quietly got out of bed, picking up a t-shirt from my pile of dirty clothes, wiped my mess up, tucked my dick back into my briefs and quietly got back into bed. As I was closing my eyes, I couldn’t help but notice Aley rolling away from me and onto this blanket: his entire shirtless back, his bikini brief-covered ass, and his legs on full display. My heart started racing, and I shut my eyes, forcing any thoughts about a potential go at his ass out of my mind, and I fell asleep.

A few days later, I was back at the house, helping to plan the next big challenge for our pledges. It was one of Tank’s big responsibilities in the house, and something he took pride in. But Tank was a bit of an asshole to my pledge class, so I wanted to make sure he didn’t take things to an extreme now that he was a senior and held more sway. Thankfully, all we had to do was come up with ideas and pitch them to the house President, since he was at a meeting with the university's Dean. Jr. and I were the voice of reason whenever Tank or Marty would pitch something insane and incredibly dangerous. But after a few glasses of vanilla vodka and Dr. Pepper, I was finding Tank’s shenanigans a little more entertaining.

Once we had a decent list of options, the conversation devolved into sports, which led to our talk about our football team specifically, and eventually gossip about our team as a whole. It was a nibble of gossip that Jr. tossed out that I particularly found interesting, but tried to hide. “Well, yeah, I heard Boseman and Erika broke up, that’s why he’s playing like shit. Apparently, she blew up his spot because she found out he’s been getting some ass on the side from some freshman who’s been riding more than the bench all season,” Jr. shrugged.

“No fucking way,” Marty chimed in.

Slowly spinning his cup on the table, Tank added, “I’m pretty sure it’s more than that. I was at the gym late two weeks ago and caught them making out hot and heavy in the locker room. It was like a fag porno.” His eyes were distant, as if he were reliving the memory.

I chuckled, “How would you know?”

Tank snapped out of his thought, and I saw his eyes twinkle, “I borrowed one of your home videos. As much as I enjoyed the one of you getting pounded by Alessandro, I much prefer the sensual video where you sucked his dick like you were in love with it.”

He came up with that so quickly, I was stunned into silence. I tried to mask my shock, but the fear that maybe Aley had said something to him about the after-party in our dorm room…I didn’t know what to say, so I puffed out some air with an eyeroll.

Jr. looked between us like he was waiting for one of us to say something before he continued, “Anyway, so I think the entire team knows and they’re all in kind of a funk. So I wouldn’t bet on us this weekend,” he chuckled.

I tried to focus on the conversation, but, despite my attempts to get laid with a girl last weekend, I have only jerked off since Aley and I had sex. So of course, each time I stroked myself, my mind wandered to my last sexual experience, and I would be reliving getting fucked by a guy until I blew my load. I was really starting to wonder if that really was ‘just a one-time thing.’ It really didn’t help that Tank kept triggering my…whatever it is inside me that is curious about exploring this again.

“You’re up, Jr.,” someone called from the living room. Jr. bolted up from his chair, grabbed his drink, and headed toward the other room.

I was staring into my drink, and when I looked up, I realized Tank was studying me. I felt myself flush and stood up. “I have to go to the bathroom,” I said in an almost robotic monotone. Then I downed my drink and ran to the nearest bathroom, which of course was locked, and a voice shouted, “Occupied!” I rolled my eyes. This is why I live in the dorms. Then I ran upstairs and found a filthy, but available bathroom and took a long piss. Then I splashed some water on my face. Trying to cool the flush that seems to show up more and more frequently since the Halloween party.

I opened the door and flicked off the light. As soon as I stepped out, I heard the familiar grumbly voice of Tank call out, “Dillon.” Making me jump out of my skin.

“Fuck,” I almost shouted, clutching my chest. “Jesus, Tank. Why are you being creepy?”

He was leaning against the wall with his arms folded. His biceps bulging. “Something’s up with you,” he said, looking me up and down.

I shrugged a little too fast, and my voice cracked as soon as I spoke, “I don’t know what you mean.” Then I crossed my arms, mimicking his body language.

“Uh-huh,” he growled. Then unfolded his arms, “Something is definitely up, and I’m not sure, but I think I know what it is.”

I felt defensive. A little tipsy and cocksure, Tank might actually know what’s been going on with me, but I can’t be sure, so I’m not going to say shit. I raised an eyebrow, “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. You’ve been acting weird since the Halloween party, and so has Alessandro.” He said, recrossing his arms. I felt myself stiffen and the flush creeping back up my neck. “I also noticed I haven’t seen you two in the same room since that party.” His eyes studied mine.

I puffed out some air, “We’ve been busy.”

“No,” he let his head drift to the other side. “I think something happened. You two were like this,” he held out his hand with his index finger crossed under his long middle finger. “Then all of a sudden,” he split his fingers apart, “and now you’re both acting weird.”

I shook my head to deny it all. “I don’t know what…”

“Nah, I’m always right about this kind of stuff. I’m a psych major, don’t forget,” he said.

I actually had forgotten he was going into psychology since he’s usually such a dick, and that made me tense even more.

“I think one of two things happened. Either one of you fucked up and hooked up with someone you shouldn’t have, breaking the brocode, or,” he looked me up and down, “and I’m not judging,” he put his hands up defensively, palms out, “one of you fucked up and things got sexual between you two after the party and neither one of you are mature enough to handle that.”

I audibly gulped. My face felt like it was on fire. My eyes went straight to the floor. Guilt crept into my bones.

He bobbed his head, “yeah, wow, ok, I would’ve bet money it was the former,” his body language shifted.

I was still shaking my head like a fool. “It’s not like that.” I insisted.

He chuckled, “I’m not judging. But you and Alessandro need to figure your shit out. It’s in the air, man. Everybody sees it.”

My heart started pounding, and the idea that the rest of the guys could sense something was up had me heading toward a full-on panic.

“So what, he kiss you or…you kiss him? Handy’s? Blowjobs?” Tank pried.

I chuckled awkwardly; my face must be turning purple at this point. “Uhh…I, we, definitely didn’t kiss,” I gestured like I just called a runner safe at home plate, as if kissing would’ve somehow crossed a line. Wait…does kissing cross the line? Is that the difference between what we did and actual gay sex?”

“But,” Tank provided.

I let out a heavy sigh, “But…something did happen.” I looked up to see his intrigue.

“He got drunk and played with your junk?” Tank asked.

“I don’t know if I should say anything,” I said, realizing Tank didn’t have any idea what happened, and I’m a razor's edge away from spilling the beans on a secret that Aley has already made clear he wants to pretend didn’t happen. I let my eyes travel down Tank's body to see him adjust himself in his pants, then my eyes shot up to see his locked on mine.

His eyebrows shot up, “Oh shit…you got drunk and played with his junk.” A smile spread across Tank's pale pink lips.

“I’m not gay,” I said, feeling defensive all of a sudden.

He chuckled, “Of course not, you just,” he shrugged, “suck dick for your buddies.”

“No,” I swallowed. 

A cheer erupted from downstairs, followed by some shit talking, pulling my attention for a second. Then I looked back over at Tank and realized he was basically holding his dick through his jeans. Not stroking himself or playing with it, but after he adjusted it, he never let go. My eyes traveled back up to his.

“No?” He asked, with no accusation. His smile faded ever so slightly.

I felt something shift in the air. Like, by denying having given Aley a blow job, which I didn’t actually do, I was somehow lying to Tank, and it offended him. “I honestly didn’t, I’ve never put a dick in my mouth,” I spat the words out so quickly, I think he believed me.

He squeezed himself gently through his jeans, then his head slowly tilted to the other side, and he licked his lips, “but…you would, if you could?”

“I…I…ummm,” I thought my heart was about to burst out of my chest. Tank got this dark look in his eyes, and his smile flattened. He reached out, putting a hand on my shoulder and squeezed, then adjusted his grip to the back of my neck and pulled down. Like he was taking away the decision I didn’t realize I was on the fence to make, my body went into beta mode, and I let him pull me down to my knees, and he pulled my face right into his crotch. He rubbed my nose into the denim, and I could smell a hint of his masculine scent. It was incredibly intoxicating. I didn’t know what to do; I was frozen with excitement and some kind of fear of the unknown.

Tank seemed to know exactly what to do, and in seconds, he had his jeans undone and was shoving his boxers below his balls. His thick, pale cock flopped out and started growing longer right before my eyes. He must have been 7” cut. His pink head looked angry as he fist himself, giving it a few strokes, and then he put the head to my closed mouth, smearing a pearl of precum on my lips like Chapstick. He breathed heavy and mumbled, “Open up.”

I didn’t hesitate. I don’t know what came over me, as soon as my lips parted, his head popped into my mouth, and my tongue was suddenly licking it, tasting him, a flavor I’ve never tasted before. It was wild. He pushed into my mouth, the texture of his skin on my tongue was blowing my mind as I instinctively closed my lips around him. I’ve never given a blowjob, but I’ve received enough to try and mimic the movement. I didn’t want him to think I wanted to do this, but at the same time, I felt this urge to do a good job. I slobbered and bobbed, choking on his cock.

I put my hands on his hips as he humped into my face, preventing him from going into my throat. I wasn’t ready for that, and each time he tried, I gagged loud enough that anyone paying attention downstairs would’ve heard it. Which made me realize we were doing this in the hallway and how someone could easily catch us. But before I could continue that thought spiral, Tank moaned and brought me back into it.

“That feels good,” Tank mumbled, clutching my hair as he gently humped into my mouth. Holding my head in place as he set the pace of the three or so inches that did fit in my mouth pumped in and out. “Oh yeah, that’s it, Dillon, you’re a natural,” he groaned. Then he pushed hard and grunted. In a nanosecond, I felt his dick expand in my mouth, and pulsed, and hot semen splashed the back of my throat. It passed my uvula, and I gagged, the second spurt completely clogging my throat, and I pushed him back so his third spurt coated my tongue, then the last spurt hit my face, and the rest dribbled down to the floor between us. “Holy shit,” he grunted and inhaled sharply. Grabbing his dick, he stroked out the last of his cum as I tried to spit out what I could into my hand. There was way too much in my mouth, and I had to swallow what was in my throat so I could breathe. Then I coughed and swallowed the rest.

I popped up, wiping my mouth with the hand not cupping his cum. I used my tongue to smear the last of his load off the roof of my mouth and swallowed. The flavor was salty-tangy-sweet all at once; it was disgusting and…curiously hot at the same time. I watched as he pulled up his boxers, and the waistband snapped against his skin. As he buttoned and zipped up, he smirked at me. “You’re good at that,” he said. “I don’t usually cum from a blowjob,” he grinned. The words gave me a rush of pride. “Look, I’m not going to say anything about you…exploring your sexuality, but you and your boyfriend need to chill the fuck out if you don’t want the rest of the house to catch on. Then he tapped my shoulder, gave me a mobster slow smack on the cheek, and hustled down the stairs two steps at a time.

What the fuck did I just do? I looked at my hand, still cupping his cum. Then I went into the bathroom, flicked on the light, and turned on the water. I was about to wash my hand off, but… the warm liquid in my hand… it looked kind of like the icing on my toaster strudel when it gets warm and runny. I know I already had it all in my mouth, I even swallowed some, but this…this was like the bulk of the load. Maybe it tasted different? I put it to my nose and smelled it; it smelled exactly like it tasted in my mouth. My free hand was playing with my dick through my jeans. I hadn’t realized I was hard as a rock.

I heard the guys downstairs cheering, and I jumped. Then looked back at my hand, my heart racing, I stuck my tongue out and let some cum on the tip of my tongue, dragging it back into my mouth and savored the flavor this time. To my disgust…I kind of liked it. I shook my head, then pushed my hand under the water and watched as the spunk circled the drain. I scrubbed my hands with soap and splashed water on my face again.

I went back downstairs, trying to act natural.

“Jeez, Dillon, you were up there for a while. Did you blow up the bathroom?” Jr. asked.

I shook my head, “I lit a match,” I grinned, avoiding eye contact with Tank.

I went back to the dorms after my next round on the Xbox. Alessandro wasn’t home, so I stripped down to my underwear and pulled up some straight porn on my laptop. I stroked my dick slowly, watching some blonde suck a huge cock. It was hard to think about her sucking me now that I know what it feels and tastes like to be on the other side. I was starting to let my mind wander over to Tank's cock, and the stroking became a little more intense. I felt my balls pulling up tight, and I was getting close to blowing my load. It was the jingle of keys in the door that pulled me back to reality.

The door swung open, and a giddy, tipsy Alessandro walked in as I quickly pulled up the covers and slammed my laptop shut so hard I could’ve broken it. Alessandro looked at me curiously. I didn’t know what to say. We haven’t said much to each other over the last two weeks. I slowly slid my hand under the covers and tucked my dick back into my briefs as I waited for him to say something.

He toed his shoes off, then turned on the desk lamp, flicked off the overhead light, and let out a sigh, “That’s better.” He crossed his arms and pulled his Henley and undershirt off. Then went for his belt, his jeans dropping to the floor, leaving him in a pair of black Calvin Klein boxer briefs with a red waistband. I couldn’t help but notice his bulge. He saw me noticing it. “Were you jerking off without me?” He asked.

I didn’t know how to answer. I honestly thought, after how weird he got, that he was done with all of it. I swallowed hard, “Umm…yeah, I…I thought you were out for the night,” I shrugged. Unsure how to navigate any of this, I decided to just go with wherever he wants this to go.

He flopped down on his bed, slid his hand down his abs and under the waistband of his boxer briefs, gripping his dick and giving it a few tugs under the fabric. I stared, studying every move, every subtle stretch of the fabric of his underwear, the bulge of his dick getting bigger and bigger, his chest rising and falling with each slow breath. “I had a date with that girl, Kendra, from my Spanish class,” he said, looking over at me.

“Oh, nice,” I managed to mumble, setting my laptop down on the floor.

“She’s such a cock tease,” he huffed, pushing the waistband below his balls. His fully erect dick on display, each new stroke pulling back his foreskin to reveal his dark pink head. A deeper color than Tanks.

Fuck, what is wrong with me? Now I’m comparing the hard dicks I’ve played with?

I chuckled awkwardly, “I hate a cock tease.” I watched as he stroked himself, tucking his thumb under his balls to ease the tension from the elastic waistband.

“What?” He asked, noticing me stare.

“Nothing,” I shook my head and threw off my blankets, my tighty whities were straining to hold back my hard dick. I shoved them down my thighs, my 5.5 cut inches sprang free, and I gripped on. The precum from my near orgasm a few minutes ago was still leaking out of the tip. I smeared it around the tip, then, without thinking, licked it off my thumb to taste it.

“Dude,” Aley said.

I looked over at him, realizing what I had just done. Trying to play stupid, I just asked, “What?”

He chuckled, “Did you just…taste your juice?”

“Did I?” I was committed. Or maybe I should be committed.

“Bro, I just saw you lick the precum off your thumb, don’t deny it,” He insisted.

“Ok, fine, so I did,” I felt myself blushing.

He got that same thousand-yard stare Tank had earlier, an almost evil look of lust in his eyes, like he was suddenly possessed or something. “Do you like it?” He asked, sitting up on his mattress, his feet on the floor as he faced me.

“I don’t not like it…it’s alright,” I shrugged, gripping my dick tight, my heart thumping at the line of questioning.

“Have you ever…tasted the real stuff?” He asked. There was a tone in his voice, something I didn’t recognize.

I couldn’t help but grin, “You mean, have I tasted cum?”

He stroked his dick and let out a breathy, “yeah.”

I took a second, I don’t like to lie, so I chose my words carefully, “I’ve never tasted my cum.”

“Oh,” he said, looking disappointed.

“Have you tasted cum?” I had to ask.

He grinned, “It was a dare.” His grin grew into a huge smile.

I don’t know what came over me, because it wasn’t something a fully straight guy would ask, but he words flew out of my mouth anyway. “Was it good?”

He smiled big, his head floated back a bit as his shoulders shrugged, “I mean…it’s mine, so of course it was top tier.”

I chuckled, “Sure it was.”

“You don’t believe me, you’re welcome to my next load,” he teased.

I know he was just joking, but after what happened after the Halloween party and with Tank earlier today, I kind of wanted to know… if Aley did taste good. “Yeah, ok,” I blurted out. It didn’t even sound like a joke, not even a tiny bit. I felt my eyes get huge as I sat there, with my dick in my hand and the words dangling out there like I just let out a huge stinky fart. It had to cross a line. There’s no way he’s not going to freak out right now.

He stood up, stroking his dick, and he crossed the room and stood in front of me. He didn’t say anything; he just slowly stroked his dick.

“Umm…what, what are you doing?” I asked, looking up at his dark brown balls and his thick 6.5 uncut inches.

“You want to taste it? I’m close,” he mumbled, stroking himself slowly, but twisting with each pump. 

I couldn’t tell if he was fucking with me, but I decided to play this like it was gay chicken, and I shoved my underwear all the way down and off my legs, spinning toward him so my face was inches from his cock. I could smell his musk; it was different from Tank's. Not bad or good, just different. I looked up his body, my eyes eventually met his, and there was this…unspoken understanding between us. I swallowed hard and decided to throw caution to the wind and reached up to grab his dick.

He didn’t hesitate to remove his hand and let me take over. With all that I’ve done up to this point, stroking another man’s dick isn’t one of them. It was a weird feeling. Unlike when I stroke my dick, his dick was warm, rigid, and soft to the touch. The low moan he made as I pumped it reassured me I was doing the right thing. As I pulled down the foreskin, it showed off his glistening tip and…I went for it. I put him in my mouth. He tasted a bit different than Tank. A little more salty, and with a lot more precum. I was able to get more of his dick in my mouth than with Tank. With Tank, I didn’t know what to expect. With Alessandro, I wanted to impress him for some reason, as if a good blowjob would redeem the awkwardness between us over the last couple of days. I sucked and tried to force him into my throat, moaning on his dick as my free hand continued to stroke my own shaft.

“Fuck, that feels good,” Aley mumbled. Like pouring gasoline on a fire, I doubled my effort to get him into my throat and gagged myself a few times. I was determined to get him off. I felt this rush of…excitement and eagerness to…prove myself in this moment. I’ve always been a bit selfish in bed, but pleasing Aley, it was as though I had everything to prove, and the reward was giving my best friend an orgasm. As the blow job went on, I couldn’t help but think about Halloween and how much he enjoyed being in my ass. The subtle sounds of pleasure he couldn’t hide from me in that moment, and I wanted to hear them again. I wasn’t giving him the pleasure I wanted to give him with just a blow job.

With my heart pounding in my throat, I pulled his cock out of my mouth and gave him a few strokes, and then, quietly so my voice didn’t crack, asked him, “Do you want to fuck me?”

He looked down at me, that darkness in his eyes. “Lie on your stomach.”

I quickly got back into the center of the bed, hugging my pillow. I watched as he shoved his boxer briefs to the floor. He quickly opened a drawer and pulled out a little clear bottle. Then he climbed onto the bed, straddling my legs, and I felt his stiff cock immediately slide between my buns. “Do you want me to wear a condom?” He asked, as I heard the click of the plastic bottle, followed by a very cold liquid dribbling onto my ass crack.

“Up to you,” I said, not caring either way. I mean, it’s Alessandro, I trust him.

He chuckled, “Good,” then I heard the squishishing of the lube on his cock as he stroked himself. I heard the click of the bottle, and he leaned over me, planking on his left arm as his right hand maneuvered his cock between my cheeks and he zeroed in on my hole. “Right there?” I nodded, and unlike last time, he wasted no time and started pushing into my hole. With the lube and how hard his dick was, he managed to pop right into my tight pucker.

“Ahhh, fuck,” I hissed, a painful sting shot into my guts as a couple of inches pushed into my ass. He continued to push another inch in and then planked his other arm on the other side of me as he lowered his torso onto my back. The warmth of his shirtless body on mine was comforting. He quickly and with a sense of urgency slid his arms under me, wrapping his hands up under my armpits and gripping my shoulders so he could pull the rest of his cock into me.

“Shit,” I groaned, feeling my hole burn as he buried himself inside me.

“You ok?” he asked breathlessly.

I nodded, not wanting to disappoint him.

“Am I too big?” He asked.

The question annoyed me in at least seven different ways. “No. Just…take it easy,” I huffed.

He gripped tighter and spread his legs to the outside of mine, digging his knees into my mattress as he thrust into me. “Mmm,” he moaned into my ear. Another thrust, and then another. With each thrust, his cock seemed to get bigger and bigger. I was struggling way more than I had the first time. He pumped deeper into me, and I tried to contain it, but a grunt escaped my mouth, and it seemed to turn him on even more. His next thrust was even harder, deeper, and I grunted again.

“I’m close,” he thrust, and I groaned. Another thrust and another grunt from me. Each new thrust was an even bigger dick. Alessandro was pumping into me like he was trying to prove how good he is at sex, and I just wanted him to finish. I reached behind us, grabbed his ass, and pulled him into me. He gave me two more thrusts and then let out a moan, and an almost silent, “Oh fuck,” as I felt him twitch inside me. “Mmmm,” he moaned into my ear, and his body stiffened as I felt him pulse and a warmth spreading around his dick, wetting my insides, soothing the burn. 

I held his ass tight. The pulsing of his orgasm inside me made it all suddenly worth it, and I didn’t want it to end anymore. It wasn’t my choice, though, and he quickly pushed himself up, pulling out of my ass way too quickly, and got off my bed. I rolled onto my side and watched as he ripped off a paper towel and wiped the slick wetness of his deflating dark brown dick, then hurried to pull his boxer briefs back on. He ripped off a paper towel and handed it to me.

I rolled onto my back and gave myself two dozen quick, hard strokes and pumped an impressive load out onto my stomach. I used the paper towel to clean myself up, and then grabbed my towel. “I’m going to take a shower real quick,” I said.

“Ok,” he mumbled, the post-nut clarity thick on his voice as he got into his bed and turned the lights off.

I don’t know how to navigate this. There’s no way he can claim he was blacked out drunk again. I rinsed off in the shower, making sure to thoroughly rinse my ass hole, fingering myself to get as much of Aley’s cum out as I can. At least until I heard the outer door open and flip-flops on the tile floor coming my way. Then I just rinsed the best I could without any proper soap, since I left the room so quickly, I forgot to bring any.

When I got back to the room, it was very dark. Aley was definitely asleep. I hung up my towel, pulled on some clean underwear, and got into bed. There was a wet spot right at my hip level on the mattress. I’m not entirely sure if it was from me or from Aley’s cum leaking out of my ass while I finished myself off. All I know is…I liked it, and as much as I hate to admit it, I want to try it again.