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Beautiful Stranger

"Not so straight straight guys."

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3.2k words 3.2k words
Alright so, the feedback I got about doing a self narrated story from the point of view of a guy was good (even though I agree it’s a little weird), so I thought I'd give it another try! It's more of a setup story than just random sex scenes. I hope you like it, and don't be afraid to let me know if it sucks!

I woke up with the worst hangover headache I’d ever had. Before I even opened my eyes the light in the room bothered me, and I frowned, squeezing them shut and inhaling deeply. The sudden rush of oxygen caused my pulse to quicken momentarily, making the blood in my temples pound painfully. I knew sooner or later I’d have to open my eyes and feel the familiar nauseous ache, so I did it quickly.

Everything was kind of blurry for a moment, and I blinked a few times to un-cloud my vision. I was lying on my side, my right arm outstretched a little on the bright white sheets. When I raised my eyes to look over to where I thought a bedside clock may be, my eyes focused onto a sleeping face a few inches from mine. Scared shitless, I leapt from under the covers and was on my feet beside the bed in seconds.

My heart thudding through my chest, I noticed that I felt cold and saw with a horrible, sinking feeling that I was naked. “What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck...” I muttered over and over while I rooted through two sets of male clothing strewn on the floor. I finally found my pair of boxers and put them on. It was at this point that whatever adrenaline rush I’d gotten out of panic stopped, and it felt like my head was fighting with itself, attempting to split in two. I moaned, putting both hands on either side of my head and sank the floor out of dizziness. When my body hit the floor, I heard violent movement on the bed and then another moan of pain. I flipped onto my back, digging a couple fingers into each of my temples and shut my eyes. It was a dream.

“Uhh,” he groaned. There was more rustling. “What the hell.”

I swallowed once or twice, trying to regulate my breathing before I spoke. “Hey, are you naked too? Say no.”

As I said this, I heard him flinch severely and then sigh. “Nope.”

I dropped my hands in relief. “You aren’t?” With much effort I lifted my head up and over the side of the bed to look at him. He was sitting up with his knees over the side of the bed, head in his hands. Thank God.

“Yes,” he grimaced, dragging out the word a little longer in horror. “Oh, I’m gonna puke.”

I looked over as he rushed into the bathroom, still naked. His body looked a lot like mine, not quite scrawny and with a sort of soccer player’s frame. Beside me were a crumpled pair of boxers and I balled them up, unable to throw them at him before he closed the door. He ran through the doorway, shutting the door with his foot and lunged towards where I guessed the toilet was. I tried not to pay attention to the throwing up sounds because I knew it would make me even more nauseous, but he was pretty quiet. The distraction was better than focusing on the issue at hand.

When he came out, he had a toothbrush in his mouth. I looked away out of courtesy, even though I probably saw it all the night before, and heard him grab the boxers from the floor, returning to the bathroom.

I got another wave of nausea and flipped onto my stomach to avoid the brightness in the room. I’d gotten so thin that I could feel my sore abdominal muscles barely touch the wooden floor. It used to stress me out how much fat I’d lost, but I didn’t care anymore. I still had all of my muscle. What was this, like the first time in three years I’d touched alcohol? The stuff disgusted me, and the first time I did it in a millennium I ended up fucking it up. Until now I tried to avoid the topic of the sex I probably had the night before, and gingerly tried to entertain the idea of me having sex with another guy. My stomach lurched and I moaned, turning onto my side. “Fucking kill me.”

When I heard the door open, I didn’t even move. Since my head was facing the underside of the bed, I yelled a muffled, “Did we have sex?”

“I don’t know!” He yelled back. I turned my head, squinting, trying to recognize his face but he’d already returned to his side of the bed and sat back down.

“Well, do you remember anything? Who are you? Do you even know me?” I thought I should probably stop cowering on the floor, but I was hit with another wave of nausea.

“Look, I don’t even remember what I did before I got drunk!” He shouted.

“Why are we yelling, it’s making me nauseous,” I shouted back.

“I don’t know I’m freaking out!”

I groaned, pulling myself to my feet and sat on my side of the bed. “Are you gay?”

He laughed somewhat hysterically which made me turn to face him back startled, and threw his hands into the air. I couldn’t help but admire the ripples of muscle on his back. “Apparently, unless one could be straight and sleep naked in a bed with another naked man. Why, are you?”

“I didn’t think so,” I muttered, massaging my head in my hands. “Maybe we didn’t do anything.”

“You seriously think that? Really.”

I shut my eyes and waited for the room to stay still. “It’s not like we’ll ever find out if we did or not.”

“Yeah I guess,” he murmured. “Do you... you don’t, uh. Hurt, anywhere you usually wouldn’t, do you?” He turned to look my way, frowning with one eye kind of shut.

“No, I don’t know! Would that even be something I’d be able to... feel the next day?”

“I don’t know! I’ve never done this before... Jesus,” he yelled standing up and pacing.

I cleared my throat and stood up too, walking over to him. He stopped and stared at me as I clasped both hands on either side of his face to keep him still, studying it carefully. “I’ve never even seen you in my life!” I cried walking away, feeling myself heat up with the stress. “I could have fucking AIDS right now. I could’ve had it and given it to you.”

“For the record, I don’t have anything,” he muttered, leaning against the dresser mirror.

“Yeah, me neither.”

“I know what we need to do,” he said finally, after a long silence.

Walking over to me quickly, he pulled me upright and took a long look at my body. It was hard not to notice how handsome his face was and how nice his body was. His eyes were a cold, dark brown and I had trouble seeing the difference between his pupil and iris. Without hesitating any further he put a hand on the back of my head and kissed me, eventually prying my lips apart with his and entwining our tongues. I guessed he was trying to see if it would turn him on and played along, holding either side of his waist. His muscular abdomen really was stunning. He tasted like cold mint, and the way he started to kiss me hungrily was kind of hot.

When neither of us pulled away and we started to get out of breath, I timidly pulled his hips into mine. He didn’t need much encouragement. It only started to really freak me out when I could feel him hard through his boxers. I pushed him back, panting slightly, and walked away from him to the other side of the room with my hand on my forehead.

“What the fuck,” I moaned. It was embarrassingly close to a whimper. “That turned you on?”

He didn’t answer and instead collapsed onto the bed on his back. Turning his head to look at me upside down he gestured towards me and said, “Oh like I’m the only one.”

I looked down at my waist and noticed I was probably harder than he was. “Ha!” I shouted, throwing my head back. “I’m a fag! I’m a fucking fag.”

“I guess we fucked,” he sighed, throwing a bit of the blanket over his face.

The way he was stretched out across the bed, arms over his head, gave me a perfect view of him. He had more muscle mass than I did without looking beefy at all, which was nice. The longer I was exposed to his abdomen, the more fascinated it made me. As my eyes washed over them again, I pictured myself running my hands up and down them, feeling the ridges and planes of his torso...

He pulled the covers back off his face and noticed me looking at him. “Are you checking me out now?”

“Yep,” I said, looking down.

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“That’s alright, you’re pretty attractive. At least I was picky last night.”

My eyes fell onto his faint pleasure trail running down to the waist of his boxers. I shifted uncomfortably when I clearly made out the outline of his dick. It was still hard and pressed against his lower abdomen under his boxers. God, that’s hot.

I’d definitely fucked another man last night. It’s not like whether it was once or twice would make a difference, right? It was an urge, that was all. There were plenty of gay people out there that didn’t have to feel guilty about it. Why did I feel guilty?

All of a sudden I was standing at the edge of the bed, staring down at the beautiful stranger with my arms crossed. He looked up at me lazily, like he was about to ask what I was doing but didn’t care enough to hurry. I knelt in front of him and reached out a hand, smoothing it over the material on his rock hard cock. As I did, he tensed up a little, exhaling a little more loudly than a normal breath.

“I don’t know if we should-” he began, but fell silent when I moved his legs apart and pressed my lips where I’d smoothed my hand. “Uhhn.”

I kissed his cock gently through his boxers along its entire length. As I pulled at his waistband and slid them down to his ankles, my eyes widened at how big he was. It didn’t feel like it was my first time doing this, and I had a flash of déjà vu that disappeared as quickly as it came. I tugged at his balls as I awkwardly attempted to do to him what had been done to me in the past. “Ohh fuck,” he breathed. I looked up as I kissed his head and saw him gripping the sheets, face shocked-looking and blissful.

I kept teasing him, only taking him all the way into my mouth when he writhed under my grip. After a few minutes of this he sat up and looked at me with a pleading expression. I moved into his outstretched arms and let him pull me onto him, kissing me deeply and messily. He moaned a little into my mouth as he did and flipped us over roughly, holding me down into the mattress as he kissed down the center of my chest towards my own waist, tearing off my boxers. My head was thudding twice as painfully as before, but the pleasurable jolts that shot into my abdomen as he pressed the tip of his tongue to the underside of my dick drowned it out. He held my balls in his other hand, running it over them and massaging between my ass and my balls with his thumbs. As he did this, he slid my entire cock into his mouth. I felt my head slide down his throat, feeling it close a little as he made a swallowing motion. I started to feel lightheaded as he held himself there, finally sliding back up my cock firmly.

“Oh my God,” I murmured, wiping the beading sweat off of my forehead.

He slid my dick back all the way down his throat again, feeling up my abdomen and chest as he moved his tongue along its underside. The feeling of his hands on me made my skin electric. When I started to feel shaky and out of control, I reached out to get him to stop. He pressed the tip of his tongue onto the skin on my torso and ran it up to my chest, kissing me lightly and making me strain upwards towards him.

Avoiding my mouth he kissed my neck and mumbled, “What now?”

I didn’t answer and instead stared up at the ceiling, feeling a wave of nausea unrelated to the alcohol. “What do you want?”

“Mh.” He kissed up my neck and jaw line, navigating towards my face. “I want to fuck you,” he whispered into my skin.

Almost before he could finish saying it I heard a desperate moan, cut off by his kiss, that I realized was mine. He slid one of his knees in between mine and slowly started to push them apart. I felt my face heat up as anxiety and regret began to sweep over me. “I can’t...” I began, pressing gently against his chest.

My stranger nibbled on my lip, settling between my legs anyways. I could distinctly feel his cock press against mine, pulling the foreskin up and down in time with the gentle, rhythmic movement of his hips. The feeling was more erotic than if he’d had his mouth around my dick.

“Are you sure?” he asked, snaking his finger down my body, making me shiver, until he reached my ass. Moistening his finger, he started to circle it and press into me. My moaning was uncontrollable; the feeling, overwhelming. The more forcefully he pushed into me, the louder I moaned, the more I wished he’d stop. As heavenly as it was, I found that I was beginning to let him in as I relaxed and gave into the blissful ecstasy, and it was freaking me out.

I started to get kind of angry. He was making it impossible to say no, and I didn’t want to admit I liked any of this. I spat somewhat bitterly, “You’re not straight.”

Instead of taking it offensively like I meant it, he watched me, amused, and kissed me. “I guess I needed someone to plant the idea.” Before he fully finished his sentence he pressed hard enough for half of his finger to slide into me. I cried out in pure bliss, arching my back a little, still letting him hold me down on the bed.

“Just fuck me,” I rasped, giving in.

At my words, he withdrew his finger and replaced it with the head of his dick. He didn’t waste much time and began to push into me, keeping a steady eye on my face as he did. The feeling was even more unbelievable. There was a moment of pain that completely disappeared with a rush of pleasure when he paused. He pushed the rest of the way in when he saw my pleading expression and pulled out slowly before pushing in all the way again. I felt up either side of his torso, eyes glued to his tensing and un-tensing abdomen. It started to feel more uncomfortable only when he pulled out of me, and the third time he pushed all the way in, he went slightly deeper. As he did, a small explosion of pleasure erupted in my lower abdomen that seemed to travel up my dick and stemmed from in my ass. I cried out and lurched slightly upwards, shocked by the sensation.

Of all the things he could’ve done at that moment, he smiled jeeringly, pressed me down further into the bed and thrust into me even harder. It felt twice as good, indicated by my desperate groaning. Each thrust became harder and harder until I was almost at the point of whimpering, unable to handle the godly sensation. I was so hard I was aching, and felt a little stream of precum pool onto my abdomen and smear onto his as well. The harder he fucked me, the harder his abs bumped against my balls and drove me crazy. At the rate we were going at, I wasn’t sure how much longer I could even last. I muttered this between kisses, assuming it would get him to slow down so I could try to regain control, but it seemed to make him rougher. He reached down in between us, wiping the come off of both of us and using it in his hand to jerk me off more smoothly.

“You’re fucking cute,” he moaned, kissing the corner of my mouth and gripping my dick more tightly.

His voice didn’t help me calm down, and I felt my stomach leap, a pang of pleasure shooting into my torso and between each lung. “I’m gonna come,” I whispered into his mouth, writhing under his grip.

He lifted himself off of me, fucking me at an obtuse angle while he continued to jack me off. I didn’t understand the change in position until he started fucking me even harder than before, watching my tensing and relaxing core. At the same time I could see his entire body, his chest shimmering slightly with sweat. As the feverish fucking got more violent, so did our moaning. It became too much for me when he reached out to pinch my nipple gently, his other hand still wrapped around my dick.

The feeling of creeping towards the edge of orgasm made me feel lightheaded. My heart raced as I focused on the unbelievable feeling another guy was giving me. When I came, he didn’t slow down and instead maintained his pace. Although I was already having an orgasm, the feeling swelled further and further when he didn’t slow down and was almost torturous. I wanted to push his hand away and still his hips, but all I could do was collapse onto the bed, a moaning, horny mess. When it was a little more bearable, he slid his cock out of me and held it against mine, jacking us off together. He kissed me gingerly, his own ropes of come mixing with mine on my abdomen.

When he collapsed beside me, he sighed. “Yeah, I think we’ve done that before.”

I wasn’t even entirely confident I could talk at that point, and cleared my throat, agreeing half heartedly.

To be continued, maybe?

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Written by LikeYouLoveMe
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