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Huey and Me

Two best friends - one straight, one gay - get a little drunk and try something new ...
“Do you think I'm hot?”

The question pretty much floored me. Well, it would have if I wasn't too drunk to see right there and then what was going through Huey's head.

It was the far side of a pretty awesome night out on the town. Me, my best mate Huey and the usual selection of work colleagues and old friends. We didn't all get to go out en masse all the time, and months would go by between nights out for me. I really liked the group of friends I'd managed to build for myself. All of them knew I was gay. None of them gave a shit. To them I was just one of the lads. I think in some ways it made it harder to meet guys – or at least long-term boyfriends – because they were pretty protective over me.

Especially Huey.

On more than one occasion after, uh, entertaining a gentleman friend for a night I'd walk in on Huey grilling him in the kitchen. Often the poor guy looked too stunned to say anything back to him. On those occasions I'd lurk in the doorway, listening, waiting for someone to either grow a set or a backbone. Still waiting.

I should also point out that, yes, Huey and I share a house together. No, nothing's ever happened between us. Nor am I secretly lusting after him. Well, only in the same way that you'd lust after some filmstar or something. Pointless and unobtainable. So I didn't bother. Sort of.

So I sat there trying to calmly finish my slice of pizza. Anything to soak up some of the booze whizzing around my bloodstream. “Uh, what?”

I didn't even bother turning to look at him, sprawled on the sofa next to me, muscled thighs spread, shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbow, hair messed in that oh-so-careful way. Nope. No secret lust here.

“We didn't hit any gay clubs, yet you copped off with … how many guys?”

“Two or three.” Five.

“But how many did I get?”

“Guys?”

He snorted. “Fuck off. Not once. Not even a look in.”

“You're getting old. Losing your skills.”

“Fuck off. I'm twenty-eight, and I'm younger than you.”

“Are you going to get all melon – melly – sad on me?”

“Answer my question. Do you think I'm hot?”

“Huey ...”

“No, mate, I'm serious.”

He jumped up and stood in front of me, pushing the coffee table – and my pizza – out of reach.

“What the fuck, man?”

“Seriously. Am I hot?”

“I really don't -”

That's when something a bit weird happened. I'm not sure in what order. It could've been simultaneously. His hands went to his chest and he pulled his shirt up over his head, throwing it down onto the sofa next to me. It landed with a soft whoosh of his aftershave. The second thing was that I started to get hard. Like I said. Pretty much simultaneously. I swallowed, suddenly unsure where to put my eyes.

“You're supposed to be looking at me.”

Without really wanting to – whilst at the same time desperately needing to – I looked at him. I looked at his beautiful blue eyes, the way his nose had that little kink when he'd broken it in a fight aged eighteen, the way his lips were parted as his breathing increased. Down to the soft skin of his shoulders, his nicely defined biceps and arms with their covering of soft brown hair. His chest. His nipples. His stomach.

“Huey ...”

I felt like something was about to burst inside my chest. I couldn't describe it. Adrenaline. Booze. Serotonin. Dopamine. All the good hormones tempered by a solid bout of what the fuck was going on? I dropped my eyes, stared at the floor between my feet, tried to fight the aching throb that was between my legs.

His voice, when he spoke again, was lower, huskier. “Look at this. If you saw this in a club, you'd want to pick it up, right?”

I looked up again to find that he'd turned around so his back – and his ass – was facing me. He bent slightly at the waist, pushing it out. I heard a noise that sounded like a zip being undone and then he was lowering his jeans, pushing them down over his ass. Red Calvin Klein waistband. White Calvin Klein boxers.

I gulped, wondering if I might actually throw up.

“So?”

“Hnn?” Okay, it wasn't the cleverest response, but it was the only one that my brain could provide. If this wasn't Huey. If this was anyone else but Huey …

He turned again, facing me. I'd seen his undies before. I'd seen him in his undies. I'd never seen him hard in his undies before. I gulped. My eyes were riveted to the thick-looking tent. I could make out the head, the ridge, the shaft and his balls. All of it.

“So, do you think I'm hot?”

I did the only thing I could do. I nodded. “Yes. I think you're fucking amazing.”

“Do you … Do you want to?”

My gaze left his cock and met his blues. I closed my eyes, shook my head. “Huey, you're drunk. You don't … You've never ...”

“Does it look like I don't want you to?”

I shook my head again. His arousal was more than apparent. My stomach swirled around and around.

“Please.” His voice was barely above a whisper. An urgent plea. For release? Maybe that was it. He was just drunk and horny. Two buds. Helping each other out. All lads togevver, kind of thing. Sure. I could deal with that. It didn't mean anything. It didn't change anything. It was just … cock.

I moved forward on the couch and leaned forward until my lips met the taught white fabric. He let out a moan. I kissed his swollen tip gently. Worked my way up and around, using my lips and my tongue to soak the fabric, moving down his shaft until there wasn't an inch of the bulging pouch of his boxers that wasn't almost transparent.

I allowed my hands then to reach out and stroke his thighs. Through them I could feel the vibrating tremble of his flesh as his desire and need rushed around his body. I moved them up whilst continuing the slavering assault with my mouth. Northward they roamed, gently stroking until they reached up and behind. There I grabbed his ass cheeks, one in each hand, and rubbed and massaged. Again there was a moan from above my head.

My hands shifted again, to his hips, to the waistband.

They pulled the soft cotton down, away from his waist, sliding down his hips, at first exposing his ass to the cool air. They bunched around the sturdy pole that jutted out from his body. I devoured it, enjoying the warmth of his cock through the cotton.

This time the moan that met my ears was harder, throatier. I unhooked his shorts and finally released his cock.

I sat back slightly, leaving my fingers idly playing through the hair on his thighs, to relish the view in front of me.

In all honesty, I'd never actually imagined what Huey looked like naked. More precisely, what he looked like naked and fully aroused. Even if I had, this was far better. His cock was thick, the length … I'd say the length was perfect. Perfectly in proportion to the rest of him. It leaned slightly to the right but rose up at a good angle.

He took another step back, and I gasped, wondering if he'd come to his senses. Instead he stepped out of the bundle of denim and cotton that entwined his ankles. Now he was completely naked.

“Stand up.”

“Huh?” What can I say? I'm a true wit.

He laughed and held out a hand. “I'm not going to be the only naked man in the room.”

“I don't see why not. You make such a good job out of it.”

“Never say never.” He let out another laugh and gestured with his hand to hurry up.

I reached for his proffered hand and used it to lever myself out of the sofa. We stood face to face, more or less exactly the same height.

“I've never kissed a guy before.”

I shrugged. “Its really not that different.”

He leaned forward slightly, tilting his head, parting his lips. I did the same until our skin met, pushed together. For a few moments he paused, unsure of what to do. I applied more pressure, felt his response, then let him find his own balance.

Respond he did, pushing back onto me, his tongue invading my mouth, his teeth pulling and nibbling on my bottom lip.

My fingers found his waist and slipped around the soft skin, pausing in the dip of his lower back, using the position to pull him closer to me. They moved south, clasping the meaty globes of his ass. One hand stayed there, the other slipped up to his neck, pushed its way through his hair and held the back of his head.

He parted from the kiss first.

“Fuck. Just so you know. Totally different.”

I felt his wide hands cup each side of my face and draw me closer for another kiss. This time more tender, more … expressive.

His lips left mine, travelled up my jawline to my ear and down onto my neck. I couldn't help it. I arched my back like a whore and let out a moan, biting my own lip. He made his way up toward my ear.

“I'm still the only one naked here.” He punctuated his whisper with a forward thrust of his crotch.

I don't think that I'd ever got naked so fast. I doubt it was erotic – judging from the look on Huey's face when I'd finished I'd go so far as to say that it was comic – but it worked. Panting slightly I presented myself to him.

“Both naked. So, do you think I'm hot?”

He grinned at me. “Turn around.”

I did, arms raised from my sides, palms upward.

“So, do you think I'm hot?”

“I think you're fucking amazing. I always have.”

“Huey ...”

We came together for another bout of frantic kissing. This time he grabbed me by the hips and really pushed himself into me. There was shuffling, there was turning. Finally, there was tumbling backwards.

I don't know how lucky it was, but I landed on top of him on the sofa, our lips still locked. I wriggled my leg to get more comfy and mentally pictured where he was in relation to where I was.

“Huey,” I asked him, breaking our kiss. “How far … I mean, if you just want to cum then … but ...”

“Just spit it out.”

“Would you fuck me?”

He looked at me. I didn't recognise the expression on his face. Had I gone too far? Shit, I'd gone too far. I started to move. “I'm sorry. Shit. I'm sorry.”

He grabbed my wrists. “I don't know how, but … if you want to show me then … yes.”

I leaned forward and kissed him again, hard, before moving down his body, leaving a slick trail across his chest and down to his cock. I engulfed it, slobbering over it like … well, like a dog with a bone. I got it nice and wet, then pulled it away from his body, gripping it at the base. Gently I manoeuvred myself until my twitching hole was above the slippery head. I eased it into position and began rocking slowly back and forth, feeling Huey enter me slowly. I could've gone to get some lube. I probably should've made him put on a johnny, but … I knew that I could master this fuck and, honestly? I didn't want to break the mood in case it never happened again.

I felt him buck under me, eager to rut and thrust and pillage. However, it was no salivating pussy that he was filling.

“Gently. Let me ...”

I sat upright, my back straight, my head thrown back. I found and held his hands in mine, using small adjustments in pressure to lead him.

He gasped as his cock punctured my ass fully, giving him access to my inner being.

“Jesus!”

I looked down at him. He looked … a mixture of stunned and amazed. Through every inch of my naked body I could feel the slight tremble of his.

“Slowly. Fuck me, Huey. Please.”

He did as I asked, pushing his thick inches into me before pulling out slightly. Further and further he slid until I was resting on his balls.

“Oh fuck, Huey. Yeah.”

Apparently that was all he needed from me. He reached up and grasped my head, pulling my face down into his. Again and again our lips mashed together, our tongues diving in and out. All I could feel was his hard cock pistoning in and out of my hole.

He'd change from furious fucking to slowly sliding almost all the way out, teasing the very outer edges of my ass with the slick tip of his cock before slamming it back in.

This wasn't a two-horse race, I knew. There would be no waiting for him to see who shot their load first. I straightened once again, shifted my legs forward and raised myself slightly, giving him greater range for his thrusting hips.

With one hand clutching the back of the sofa, the other found my own hard cock and I began to tug on it.

“Oh fuck, Huey. Just keep doing that. Right there. Yes. Oh yeah.”

I had no doubt that I was sounding like some kind of porn movie, but what else was there to say? His cock was making me feel so good.

“I'm gonna … Oh shit … I'm fucking gonna ….”

I slammed my ass back down on his cock and – by some sort of miracle of anatomical engineering – I started my orgasm at the same time he started his. I felt his cock swell and throb inside me as he emptied his balls into my ass. Ropes of my own hot cum flew out of my cock and fired onto his shoulder and neck as I roared with ecstasy.

Gradually his hips slowed.

I caught his eyes again and grinned at him. He gave me a slow smile back.

“Holy shit.”

“You okay?”

“Holy shit.”

His cock was still hard and still in my ass. I sighed and lowered myself onto his chest, feeling the thrum of his heartbeat pounding at my cheek. Our hands found each other and our fingers intertwined.

I breathed in. He smelt of aftershave, sweat and sex. I smiled. I exhaled slowly. I knew that I had to move soon. The downside of barebacking possibly more obvious to me than to him. His cock began softening and I shifted, causing him to gasp.

“Yeah. Be right back.”

After doing what needed to be done, I walked back towards the living room. I paused at the door, leaning against the frame. Huey was still laying on the sofa, but he'd wiped my cum off his body and had one arm bent backwards, his head resting against his hand.

Whatever had just happened … I wasn't sure how we were going to move on from this. Could we stay just friends? Would he think I wanted something else? What was he expecting? Would that ever happen again?

“You just gonna stand there?”

“I, uh, I wasn't really sure ...”

I could see the grin split his face from here. “No, nor me. But I liked it. And I like you. Do we have to decide anything more than that right now?”

“Course not. Wait.”

I disappeared again, this time into my bedroom. I pulled the duvet off my bed and returned. I climbed back onto the sofa, onto Huey, and pulled the duvet on top.

After a certain amount of wriggling and adjusting of elbows, knees and hands, we were comfortable, my head in the nook of his shoulder, my hand on top of his on his chest.

Nothing more was said.

As I took one last sweeping look around the room, and sleep overtook me, a last thought flitted through my head.

Cold pizza for breakfast. A naked man next to me. Life is good.

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