Relax. Don’t forget to breathe. Go slow, keep breathing and try to push out.

Remembering Paul’s instructions, I lay on my side in bed, trying to keep my breathing steady. The door was locked, the shades drawn closed, my body covered by my bedsheet. For all the wild exhilaration and hunger that had filled my days since things started, I still felt a need to hide, to protect myself from prying eyes.

Use lots of lube. Look it up online if you’re not sure where to start.

I want you to teach me, I’d said, pulling closer.

He’d smirked at me, our hips meeting as we ground into each other, faces close enough to touch.

We’ll see. I don’t want to hurt you. It can hurt.

As I lay there, slowly working a finger inside myself, I thought about what he’d said. How careful he’d been, even while worked into the same frenzy that had affected me while fucking him. Topping him. Paul was slowly teaching me the words for things we did, it felt like a special language we spoke, even though I was hardly fluent in it.

The sensation of penetrating myself was strange, kind of alien. I wouldn’t call it pleasurable, exactly, but it didn’t hurt or feel bad. It was more like the situation was sexy, especially when I thought about what I was practicing to do. Was I ready to get topped? To feel Paul doing to me what I’d done to him in the tent? If it was him, I would make it work. Back then, he could have gotten me to try anything if he looked me straight-on with those greenish-blue eyes of his.

Focusing, I pressed my pointer finger deeper. As it sunk past the second knuckle, I felt my ass open up somehow, the sliding sensation surprisingly smooth as the lube did its work. I let out an involuntary breath, realizing that I’d been holding it as I pushed, reminding myself to keep steady. My muscles clenched around the intruder, and the knowledge that I was the source was weirdly hot, like I was taking control of myself the way I imagined Paul would.

After a minute or two I was able to move my finger around pretty comfortably, and I experimented with pulling it out slightly before pushing further than before, trying to fit the entire digit inside. When my knuckles reached skin and I bottomed out, I felt like I’d accomplished so little! A cock was so much bigger, not only in length but in girth, which was my strongest concern. Pulling out, I felt my ass close up as soon as my finger was withdrawn, as if nothing had changed.

How in the hell had Paul taken my dick like that? He’d mentioned some experience before, but apparently whoever it had been with hadn’t been as big as me. Lucky, I thought, I’m starting with an even bigger dick.

Determined, I squirted another dab of lube out and worked it around, coating my middle finger as well. If I was going to do it right, I needed to know what it felt like to get stretched out. The idea sent a shiver across my naked skin.

Ouch. I let out a hiss of breath as I pushed both fingers too quickly against my opening, eliciting a pinch of pain. It faded quickly, no damage done. I started again with just my middle finger, relieved when it slipped in easily. Pushing out with my ass and in with my finger, I worked it inside and enjoyed the sensation of feeling my hand pressed against my skin when it reached the base. Then, hoping I could figure something out, I pulled out until just my fingertip was still inside and began pressing gently with my index finger, trying to coax it in while I was still opened up.

The feeling of pressure was still foreign, and I tried to remember how it had gone a couple of days before. I’d been so ignorant, telling Paul to push his cock-head inside without knowing how difficult it could be. But it had worked, hadn’t it? What was different? He hadn’t gone in far, but I could vividly remember the sensation of being opened up as his tip passed the entrance of my hole.

For one, I’d been super turned on. Check, I wasn’t fully hard but there was a thin seepage of precum trailing down my thigh.

For two, he’d been the one doing it. Maybe he had some technique, but another part was that he’d pushed gently and consistently, with lots of lube and precum. I was so aware of every movement, and since I was controlling my strength I guess I’d been pretty tentative.

The angle? Slowly pulling my fingers back, I pulled the sheet off my body and flipped to my stomach, arching my back slightly so my cock wasn’t trapped underneath my body. I imagined how I’d been lying for him while he jerked off behind me. I reached awkwardly back to try to get a good position and try again.

It wasn’t super comfortable, but as soon as I hooked my pointer finger and slipped it inside I knew I was on to something. Before, I’d been shifting my direction around and trying to make it easy to fit inside. Now I seemed to be at just the right angle to finger myself. My ass felt different, I didn’t have to consciously push so much for it to feel as open. After a few slow strokes which couldn’t go as deep, I tried again with a second finger.

Pressure again. I kept at it, trying to form a point with both fingertips, pulling my arm up as it stretched behind my back. It worked. As the tight ring of muscle gave way, my cock swelled a little, the underside of my tip rubbing against the bed and sending a tingle towards my center. As it tensed, my ass clenched again, pushing my fingers out. I knew they were connected, but it surprised me to find how strongly pleasure on one end could affect the other! It had never occurred to me that when my dick felt good, my ass tensed alongside it.

Making sure not to move, I started again. Within ten seconds I’d managed to fit both fingertips inside myself again, sighing as the sensation of stretching and fullness took over my senses. I pressed, slowly and steadily, feeling my heart rate climb as my fingers sunk deeper inside, their gradual penetration heightening things further. I couldn’t get too deep in my current position, but that hadn’t been my goal, I was focused on seeing if I could go wider.

Breathe, keep breathing, I heard Paul’s voice like it was soft in my ear, just beside me on the bed.

Everything felt like it was glowing, hot and quivering, unfamiliar sensations and a new kind of pleasure that was slow-growing. Sure that I wouldn’t force my fingers out now that I was deeper and more familiar with the feeling, I lowered my hips slightly and suppressed a groan as I gently humped against my bedsheets. The feeling was intense and almost overwhelming, like I’d only been using half of my equipment to get off before, throbbing through my entire pelvis and connecting at the base of my cock.

Precum escaped my tip, dampening the fabric of my sheets as my dick jumped repeatedly. Pressing my hips down, I rested my head sideways on my other arm as I pushed my cock against my mattress, breathing heavily as I tried to fit my fingers deeper inside my ass. Normally I had to grab my dick and squeeze it while jerking off to finish, but it felt like I was close just from rubbing and humping my bed.

Before I could get frustrated and grab myself to stroke it directly, my cock swelled and tensed, the familiar feeling of orgasm building. I shoved my face into the mattress and grabbed the back of my head with one hand, continuing to work my fingers in my ass with the other, my muscles clamping down hard repeatedly around them.

I lost it. Giving in and just doing what felt good in the moment, I pumped my hips and pressed the underside of my meat hard between my stomach and the bed, grinding into the growing wet patch of precum. As I started to cum the heat in my midsection grew, and I pushed my fingers in as deep as they would go, forcing my dick forward and feeling the warmth of my skin pressed against the top of it.

I started shooting my load, short grunts and moans escaping as my jizz flooded the bed under me. Each pulse meant another squeeze around my fingers, which in turn made cumming feel that much stronger, like it was engaging more and more of my body as I played with the new frontier of my hole. Humping and spurting, the puddle of my cum grew beneath me until I’d soaked the entire surface under my stomach, huffing as I started to come down.

“Fuck,” I breathed, trying to stay still as I slowly withdrew my fingers from the tightness of my hole.

When they came out there was a brief moment before my ass closed up again, their absence felt in the soft caress of air across my opening. I touched it with one finger again, marveling at how it winked closed and how hot it felt to have my fingertip engulfed by it.

Had I touched my prostate? I wasn’t sure, but it had definitely felt awesome. The sticky wet patch underneath me was evidence enough. I laid my head down and rested, realizing how tense my muscles had been, wondering how I was supposed to relax when everything felt so intensely good. Would I be able to get to the point of taking something bigger if I got this worked up and ended up cumming every time?

I almost drifted into sleep, thinking about proudly recounting my experience to Paul the next time we were alone together.

[][][]

That couldn’t seem to come soon enough over the following days. Though we didn’t expect some kind of hateful reaction, Paul and I kept our new connection a firm secret among the friend group. It was just too different. I couldn’t imagine the reactions of the other guys if they were to find out we’d become...whatever we were.

Part of me wished they would sniff it out, so we could stop coming up with pretenses to bow out of group hangouts. It was our last definite summer together, I knew that as hungry as I was to spend more time with Paul, I would always make sure to give as much time as possible to my other friends while we still could. It meant late nights for him and I, sneaking off somewhere after things had died down to cut into the tension that inevitably built over the course of an evening.

Another part of me wanted something to change just so I could figure out what our new relationship counted as. We were friends, of course, and that always came first. Even when we were fooling around, which amounted to blowjobs most of the time, there was always the undercurrent of being buddies. I liked that, because it meant even when I was nervous or ashamed or any of the other weird emotions that cropped up, we could always sort of step back from the intensity and hang out like normal.

Underneath that dynamic was something else entirely. I was coming to realize that I liked Paul, and I knew he liked me but couldn’t tell what that meant for him. Did I want him to be my boyfriend? Looking back, I wasn’t ready to admit it, but I did. He’d unlocked something in me, awakened a side of myself I hadn’t even been able to consider before. So every wave of emotion, every crazy idea or sometimes-scary notion about how my life would be affected was attributed to him. Those feelings didn’t all revolve around him, but he was the only person I could imagine bringing them to.

I knew he’d been with other guys. I wasn’t jealous or anything, but he was the safe person I could explore my attraction to men with and I couldn’t really imagine doing that with anyone else.

What would it look like, being in a relationship with Paul?

The thought alone made my heart flutter, my stomach feeling like it could drop out of me at any moment. I was confident with him sexually but didn’t have the faintest idea how to talk about my emotions, he made me feel strong and weak at the same time.

[][][]

We had our first real opportunity to get together a week after our romp in the tent. Brandon suggested a two-day trip to a nearby national park. When Jamie and Keller enthusiastically agreed, I tried to make sure not to look over at Paul before giving an answer. He clearly had the same thought, and just as I was fretting over what to say he jumped in and announced he couldn’t go due to a conflicting plan with his cousins.

“Me neither,” I said after the wave of the guys’ complaints finished. “I’m supposed to be working this weekend.”

I realized it was actually true, sort of.

“Since when do you have a job?” Keller asked, still riled up about Paul.

“I don’t,” I replied, trying to stay nonchalant, “but the Parsons are going out of town and paying me the big bucks to dog-sit for them. No parties, either, it’s way too close to my house we’d get found out right away.”

I hadn’t intended to say yes to the offer, but if the others would be gone I had the perfect opportunity on my hands. If they’d all been in town we would have ended up hanging out there the whole time, and while that would have been fun it wasn’t what I wanted. Jamie frowned at the missed chance to throw a house party.

“We got an entrepreneur on our hands,” joked Brandon.

“You guys can send any future offers to chill through my secretary.” I studied my nails like I was too good for them, playing it up.

We laughed, but as the other three started planning their outing I chanced a small peek at Paul. He grinned at me, a little glint in his eye I knew was just between us. How didn’t they notice us? I could hardly contain my excitement, and I knew as careful as we were anyone looking closely would see that something had changed between us within the friend group.

[][][]

“Woodworking?”

“I panicked, okay?!” I sat back on the Parsons’ expensive couch, slapping one hand over my eyes and leaning my head back.

Keller had expressed some mild interest in what Paul got up to on our own, and before I could think the word had burst forth. Luckily, it hadn’t gotten the interrogation I’d expected, but it felt like a close shave.

“Man,” Paul said to my left, and I heard him drop into the armchair nearby, popping the cap off his beer, “and he believed you?”

“Well your dad’s got the workshop out back; it’s not the most unbelievable lie.”

“Yeah,” Paul chuckled, “it’s a crapshack, no one’s used it in years. Keller knows my old man tried to get me into it forever ago and I wasn’t having it.”

“Well,” I withdrew my hand and looked at him, “you better start cleaning it out in case the guys want to see what we’ve been working on.”

“What’d you tell him?”

“Birdhouse.”

Paul nearly choked on his sip of beer.

“What? Couldn’t you have picked something easier? I don’t know how to make a fucking birdhouse, man!”

“Me neither,” I laughed. “You better learn!”

“Shit. You had to pick the most obviously gay hobby, too, real smooth.”

“No way!” I shot back. “It’s like classic macho guy stuff.”

“Dean,” he said, staring at me, “that’s exactly why it’s so gay. Listen to it, wood working, you kidding me?”

“Technically I didn’t lie, then.” I grabbed my crotch. “You’ve been working some wood, alright.”

“You’re goddamned right,” he nodded and took a drink. “I’m going to work on my birdhouse tonight, too.”

“Oh yeah?”

I eyed him, dressed in a blue t-shirt and khaki shorts lounging in the leather armchair. So casual, so sexy, smirking at me in my neighbor’s basement den because he knew what we were going to get up to now that we had a whole house to ourselves for two days. He brushed his chestnut hair back with his free hand, still watching me.

“What do we do if they find out?”

It just slipped out. My lie to Keller didn’t feel great, but I didn’t feel ready to share my secret with anyone either.

Paul thought for a moment, his eyebrows furrowing slightly as he looked at me.

“You think they will?”

“Not really,” I replied, “but I hadn’t thought about it until I thought we’d been found out. I can’t even imagine how they’d react.”

“I think Brandon knows.” Paul held up his hands to stop my reaction. “About me, anyways, just me.”

“Since when?” I couldn’t believe it had never come up.

“A year or so,” he said, oddly chill about it. “He was at my place and I think he saw one of my porno mags in my dresser. I closed the drawer right away, so maybe he didn’t see the cover fully. But he didn’t ask about it either. Normally one of you guys would give me shit for something like that, you know? Take it out, wave it around or something.”

“I didn’t even know you had magazines,” I said, still shocked. “So retro.”

“You take what you can get,” he replied. “Pages are probably too stuck together to open the thing anymore. I just have it still, didn’t know where to get rid of it. But B got quiet for a second after I hid it, changed the subject kinda awkwardly.”

“Damn,” I breathed, “and it never came up?”

“You kidding?” Paul snorted. “Brandon bringing up how he might have seen my gay porn? Not a chance.”

“Well,” I started again, “there’s maybe seeing a magazine and then there’s two of us blowing each other.”

“I get you,” he said, nodding. “I dunno man. I guess I don’t really care at this point? It’s bound to come out eventually, I was going to tell you guys sometime this summer.” He gestured, waving between us. “Then this happened. Never could have expected that.”

“You mean you never thought about any of us like that?”

I was fascinated. We’d never gotten into it like this before, everything was always about sex. Paul frowned, shrugging a little.

“Well, I wouldn’t say never. It’s weird though! I guess I didn’t really consider it, it’s still kind of hard to wrap my head around what we’re doing, if I’m honest. You’re hot, Dean, don’t get me wrong. It’s just like...you guys were off-limits? Until the time you and I fooled around at my place it hadn’t seriously crossed my mind.”

“You really don’t care if they find out?” My voice was soft, my self-consciousness showing.

“Do you?” he replied. “I personally wouldn’t mind. I mean shit, it’d make a lot of things a hell of a lot easier, wouldn’t it? But at the same time, I wouldn’t tell them about us if you didn’t want me to.”

“I dunno,” I said, reaching over and grabbing my own beer to open. “I guess I care. But it’s more like, I’m worried it might fuck things up? It’s not like I expect them to throw up or kick our asses or something, there’s no way.”

“Right,” he said, neutral.

“I don’t even know what I’d tell them though,” I went on. “'Hey guys, no bid deal but, Paul and I are fuckin’, that cool?’”

He laughed, kicking his feet out.

“'Hey bros, pass that jay. By the way, Dean bottomed out in my ass the other day, filled me up with cum.’”

We both laughed harder. I spilled a little of my beer and swore as I tried to wipe off the couch before it sank in.

“What do you think though.” Paul was suddenly more serious. “Not about telling anyone. Think you’re gay?”

There it was. Somehow, despite playing with each others’ bodies for weeks, kissing and caressing, we hadn’t come to such a simple question. Paul had never officially told me he was gay, either, but it was kind of a given at that point. I’d pored over it in my mind near-constantly since the moment I saw him with Tony Bates in the woods by the party, but hadn’t said anything out loud. Frankly, I hadn’t even said anything concrete within my own thoughts, always kind of freaking out and trying to set it aside.

Why was it so hard? I didn’t feel like a homophobe, but I’d made my fair share of jokes over the years with the guys, as so many others did. No wonder Paul didn’t tell us. The idea caused a twinge of pain and embarrassment as I thought back, how it must have felt from his perspective to see us mock who he was without knowing it. I didn’t hate gayness, but calling myself homosexual still seemed so strange, almost impossible. Everything was so new, so thrilling but also scary in its own way.

“When did you know? How were you sure?”

Paul finished tipping back his beer and set it on the end table next to him.

“I guess,” he started slowly, “I guess I always kind of knew. I mean, I didn’t know know until I kissed a guy. Then I realized I just hadn’t thought that hard about it before, but it was all pretty obvious.”

“Who’d you kiss?”

“Ugh,” he huffed. “Jack Hubbard.”

My mouth fell open.

“No fucking way,” I said. “Why him? He’s like the last person I would have guessed.”

“You’re telling me.” Paul’s face darkened a little. “He wasn’t nice about it either, which I guess you could expect. The kiss was alright, a little too hard. Then he flipped out and pushed me like I’d jumped him. Total closet case.”

“I’ve never seen you guys interact, though.”

“Yeah, that’s on purpose. Every time he sees me he gets all...well, you know how he is.” Paul shrugged. “It wasn’t perfect, but even with him being a jerk about it, I knew. I’d never felt anything like it.”

Through my continuous surprise I was reminded of my own experiences. Kissing girls I knew from around town on occasion. Kissing Irina Sommers the night I’d discovered Paul and Tony. It had been weird, and I’d been kind of crestfallen after how long I’d fixated on her. So much more had been supposed to happen.

Then I remembered the first time I kissed Paul, in his bedroom. How he’d felt pressed up against me, the warmth and softness of his lips against mine, the strange sensation of his stubble where it touched my own. How every contact and motion of that day had seemed to fill my body with tingling heat, my nerves fluttering. How hard I got, every time I thought about him, every time we fooled around.

“Man,” I said, surprised to hear how choked up I sounded, feeling like the words were coming from somewhere else, “I think I am.”

Paul looked confused for a moment, but as he sat forward and put his elbows on his thighs it felt like a dam burst in my chest. I looked over at him, feeling completely helpless.

“I’m,” a hitching breath caught as I tried to speak, “I’m gay.”

I was crying. Why was I crying? Everything felt fuzzy and distant, like I was looking at him through a tunnel.

“Yeah?” He didn’t smile, but he had this strange expression, like he was concerned for me.

I nodded, tears falling down my cheeks as I tried to speak, letting out a quiet croak.

“Yeah,” I managed to get out.

Then I was smiling. Sad and overwhelmed and afraid but smiling uncontrollably as I cried, holding my beer like I had no idea what to do with it. What had I been doing, all this time? How had an entire life been led up to that fateful night without my understanding something so huge about myself? What else was I a stranger to?

Paul, with whom I’d been teetering on the edge of friendship and fuck-buddy, set his beer down and got up, coming over to sit next to me. I didn’t know what I needed at that moment, we’d never really had emotional moments like this in our friend group unless someone died. Even as I cried I felt embarrassed about it, like I was reacting wrong.

He didn’t care. He sidled close and wrapped his arm around me, pulling me into him. I felt kind of numb, disconnected from myself as I let him grab me with both arms and squeeze. Paul didn’t say anything for a while, just held me and let me ride it out.

Just as I was starting to feel like I must have seemed utterly un-sexy, he pulled back and looked over at me, placing one hand on the side of my neck.

“That’s great,” he said softly, smiling just a little. “Fucking awesome, really. Good for you, Dean.”

I didn’t know how to respond. What did you say to that? I wasn’t sure how I felt about it, was it really so great? It seemed like I’d simultaneously achieved an unbelievable level of relief, with just as huge a sense of challenge. I knew it was true, nothing had ever felt truer. From then on I didn’t get to step away from it. It would have been like trying to breathe water.

“Thanks.” I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, feeling frazzled.

“Peaks now has,” Paul mimed counting something with his fingers, “about five gay guys in it. Welcome to the club.”

I laughed, harder than I expected at his corny joke. Looking back, I was so incredibly lucky to have Paul. To have the first person I ever came out to respond with congratulations, to be happy for me. I’d learn in time that it didn’t always go that way.

“Did you bring the stuff?”

Paul looked at me, surprised.

“I didn’t expect your mind to go that direction just now, if I’m honest.” He laughed a little. “Yeah I brought it, who do you think I am?”

Suddenly I was very aware of how I must have looked to him, my face all red from crying, just having been comforted.

“I must not seem like I’m ready to go, huh?”

“You kidding?” he asked, the familiar sparkle in his eye as his lips curled up in a knowing smirk. “You just joined the ranks, you think we’re not about to celebrate that?”

[][][]

“I know you’ve been practicing,” he said, staring at me where I laid on the den’s carpet, a pillow propping me up.

“Not that much, if I’m honest,” I replied, feeling a little vulnerable with him hovering over me, “I kept cumming before I could really get anywhere.”

His expression went from curious to lustful, and I was reminded of the meat packed in his shorts as I realized what he was envisioning.

“That’s good,” he said in a low voice. “We can go nice and slow.”

Lying back on my elbows, I drank Paul in as he knelt between my legs, hands resting near my knees. His brown hair had been growing out a little, styled up and kind of windswept from biking around while it was still wet. His somewhat-severe eyebrows came closer together as his gaze swept over me, the strong line of his jaw perfectly visible from my angle. He’d gotten more tan, and even in his slightly-baggy t-shirt I admired the lean muscles of his shoulders and arms where they spread out to touch me.

“How should I lay?”

His eyes snapped to mine from their wandering.

“Eager, huh?”

“I dunno!” I replied, a little embarrassed but getting hornier by the second. “You’re the expert.”

Paul chuckled as he leaned forward and ran his hands up my thighs, eventually removing them so he could post himself up above me. The sensation of him pressed between my legs as he looked down at me made my heart start to race. I’d experimented with it little by little, but feeling like the ‘girl’ was still unfamiliar to me, the exotic reversal sensually intense. Of course, I wouldn’t even call it that soon enough, but back then those terms were all that I really had to describe things.

Doing a slow push-up dip as he grew closer to me, Paul’s eyes felt magnetic. He’d taken on a more receptive role up to that point as I tried things out. Seeing the domineering side of him emerge was a sexy reminder that we were both men, that the way we interacted wasn’t like what I was used to envisioning. While I’d been fucking him, this desire had been within him the whole time, waiting for its turn to show up.

Now it was time to see what he’d do. I trusted him not to hurt me, but I knew how crazy it could feel to sink yourself in. I still felt some nervousness.

He kissed me, the bright smell of the cologne dabbed behind his ears washing over me as he got close. Softly at first, our lips barely touching, then I felt the slightest swipe of his tongue against my lower lip and we started making out in earnest. The softness of his full lips pressed against mine, the warmth of his body where it touched my own, the sensation of his cock hardening against mine brought me from semi-aroused to straining steel in seconds.

Our tongues lashed against one another, twisting and touching, our spit mingling as he ground his crotch gently against mine. I moaned into his mouth as he pressed closer, pushing me back against the pillow, the sensation of yielding to his strength unfamiliar but exhilarating. I was a little taller than him, but lying down and having him in control had washed that entire conception away. All I could feel was the gentle force of his muscles, the hard press of the big rod trying to escape his underwear and the subtle motions he used to tell me what he wanted.

Pulling back for a second, Paul dove in and began kissing my neck, his sudden shift causing me to gasp as the warmth of his tongue flared to life against my skin. The fingers of his left hand twined in my hair, gripping slightly and pulling my head to a better angle. I leaned back and closed my eyes, sighing as his stubble rasped against my sensitive throat. His weight pressed against me while he held himself up with only one hand, it felt exquisite.

Jerking upright, Paul reached and yanked his shirt off in one quick motion. The fire in his expression gave me a slight thrill, knowing how worked up he was becoming. I did the same, tossing my shirt off to one side as he fiddled with his shorts, eventually tugging them off. He stopped me as I reached for my own fly, grasping my wrists firmly and shifting them back to my sides.

His body was perfect, for me at least. Strong, lean muscles like mine, but nothing model-esque. Real. I drank him in as my eyes trailed down; the slight indent of his ribs, the way his arms were poised with anticipated action, the mild definition of his abs where a trail of dark hair started around his navel, widening into a thin triangle where it met the waistband of his boxer briefs. The vee of his waist, leading down below where, bulging-

“Fuck,” I breathed.

Paul’s cock was almost completely hard, curled straight down and held in place by his black cotton underwear. I knew it with some deep familiarity by that point, but seeing it bowing out the front of his briefs, framed by his slightly-spread thighs as they tensed was mouthwatering. It looked huge, and while it was pretty big in reality the notion of trying to fit it inside of me made it seem even bigger. I watched as it swelled a little, shifting slightly and stretching the material further.

Paul smirked, looking down at my chest as he placed his hands on my collarbones. He ran them down, his fingertips trailing across my skin, my muscles reacting wherever he touched. When his fingers got to my lower stomach he traced the line of my waistband, digging them slightly underneath. I laid back and watched, lifting my waist off the carpet to draw closer to him. He slowly unbuttoned my shorts, taking his time to draw my zipper down, dangerously close to grabbing my dick.

Keeping my hips raised, I let him pull my shorts off, bending my legs awkwardly so he could get them out of the way. My own cock was straining like crazy against my briefs, precum darkening a patch where my tip poked against the left side of my pelvis. Before I could move Paul suddenly gripped them and tore them off in one swoop, coming to a half-crouch as he pulled them around my ankles and tossed them over his shoulder. Feeling my bare ass against the soft carpet, I stared as he looked down at me.

My meat was at full attention, bobbing from poking straight out towards him to flipping up against my stomach due to the angle of my body. I’d always considered myself around six, six-and-a-half inches, but ever since we’d been hooking up I thought maybe I was even a little larger than that. It was still crazy to see how hard I got, like my own dick hadn’t been fully activated until those experiences started.

His pace quickening, Paul gripped me, his thumb pressing against my perineum as my cock jumped in his hand. He worked the precum that seeped from my tip around, making me shudder slightly, my balls shifting and pulling up with the sensation. His other hand cupped my sack, pulling gently. He knew exactly what I liked by that point, we’d grown to learn lots of little things that would drive the other wild.

He didn’t have my cock in the center of his mind right then, though. Paul scooted back a little and leaned down, running his tongue from my balls all the way up my shaft, flicking it around my tip and lapping up the precum that he’d drawn out of me. As I tensed, once again lifting my hips to meet his touch, he released his grip and slapped his hands to the underside of my thighs by my knees, pushing with sudden intensity.

Lifting, he pushed until my knees were almost pressed into my chest. Taking his cue, I grabbed my legs for him and held them. I felt so exposed, and that feeling was intensified as Paul took the opportunity to grind his bulge against me, his hands slipping down to rest on either side of my ass, squeezing.

He pushed me back further, looking at my exposed hole with a hungry expression. I knew exactly how he felt, remembering how empowering it was to imagine plunging yourself into the ass in front of you. Using one hand to grab my cock and full it forward, Paul licked and sucked lightly on my tip for a moment before letting it smack back against my stomach. Planting his hands back on my upper thighs to keep me in place, he knelt down, his nose brushing against my balls as he drew close.

I felt his breath against me, closing my eyes and enjoying the strange sensation of being folded up like a pretzel. He didn’t make me wait. I’d rimmed Paul a few times now, he loved to feel my tongue against his ass before I fucked him, and we’d only gotten around to actual penetration twice since the first time. Trying to imagine the sensation, comparing it to the feeling of having my fingers or Paul’s cockhead touching me, couldn’t prepare me for what I felt next.

Warm, tingling and utterly unfamiliar, Paul’s tongue trailed from the skin at the end of my cleft to the surface of my hole, lingering there. I shivered and shifted as I felt his saliva bathe my still-virgin ass, disarmed by the sheer volume of reaction it brought out of me. He pressed harder against the underside of my thighs, lifting my ass further from the carpet.

“Mmm,” he intoned, the subtle vibrations of his voice transferring from his flat-pressed tongue into my core.

He was enjoying himself immediately. Licking with varied pressure, the flat of his tongue swiped again and again at my entrance. When he formed it into a point and pressed lightly, I was surprised at how easily he penetrated me, though not deeply. I moaned, my eyelids fluttering. Damn, I thought, I’m more into this than I expected. There was a small part of me that resisted the notion of surrendering to Paul, the same old feelings of what I was supposed to do and want as a man.

Though it flashed through my mind as I groaned, Paul’s tongue doing small circles around my sensitive hole, I quickly waved it away. What the hell did I care? Paul didn’t think of me as any less of a man, and he was the only one whose opinion mattered on the subject. I tried to ditch my insecurities, not fully succeeding, but at least abandoning them for the moment as I focused on my body against his.

“Does that feel good, dude?” He raised his head, causing me to look at him. A thin trail of spit split off and clung to his skin, his cheeks flushed as he breathed heavily.

“It’s crazy,” I panted. “No wonder you love it so much.”

He smiled mischievously, diving back to his work. When his tongue pressed once again began circling my hole, my cock jumped and spewed a small dribble of precum into my belly button. The tingling warmth continued as his expert tongue swiped and swirled, the pressure of his hands on my thighs making everything stand out intensely.

Placing his forearm across both my thighs like a bar, Paul drew one hand down and sucked it into his mouth, spitting on my hole suddenly, kind of rough. I closed my eyes again, focusing on my breathing as I waited for what I knew was coming.

His spit-covered finger touched me, circling gently like his tongue had been while I felt his soft lips brush against my balls before his tongue trailed again up the length of me. When he reached the underside of my tip he pressed forward, wiggling gently and encouraging me to open up for him. My hole obliged, and without even using lube he entered me to the first knuckle.

“Okay?” he asked, staring at his increasingly buried finger with hunger.

I nodded, too focused to speak.

His spit and slow, methodical tongue-bath had prepared me better than expected, and before long Paul’s whole index finger was inside my ass. He let it rest for a bit, shifting gently, before pulling back and begging to slowly thrust it inside again. Maybe it was the position he was in since I’d had trouble finding a good way to do it, but it felt like he knew just how to push without catching or needing to stop.

“I’m ready,” I said, squeezing my muscles around his finger.

Paul laughed slightly.

“Easy, bro,” he said, “let’s get to two or three before we go crazy.”

“Get the lube.”

He could only bring his forbearance so much. He grabbed the bag of supplies from the table and fished out his lubricant, the tent in his briefs bouncing around as he hurried. I sighed as the cool feeling of his lubed fingers spread it around my hole, one thumb softly stroking my tip against my belly as I held my legs up. The first finger returned, and once he’d spread some inside I felt the pressure of his twinned fingertips against me.

It was the strangest feeling. I opened up for him so smoothly, the steady force of him gliding inside, parting me without pain or discomfort. Pressure is the best word for it, but where I’d fumbled Paul succeeded, the sensation of fullness making my head swim. Before I knew it, I felt his hand pressed against me as he fully sunk his fingers in.

“Shit,” he breathed, his arm muscles curling, “you’re tight, but you’re taking them well. I could hardly take anything when I started.”

His praise thrilled me, but my impatience was reaching fever pitch as my cock went untouched, leaking steadily. I wanted to feel it, everything I’d given him, feel him pressed deep inside me. He slowly fingered me, measured and steady, for a minute or two until he could smoothly press them back inside from taking them almost all the way out.

“You think another will fit?” he asked, slowly withdrawing his fingers.

“Try,” I panted. “I feel like if I wait any longer I’ll go crazy.”

“We just started!” he laughed. “It’s been like ten minutes.”

“Yeah, well,” I replied, “how long did I last the first time with you?”

“Fair point,” he said. “You better tell me right away if something hurts, though.”

“I will.”

Before returning to his task, Paul used his one un-lubricated hand to tug off his briefs. It was quick and businesslike, but I remember it vividly. I’d seen his cock many times, always admiring how it was different from my own, how they looked together. Right then, however, the reality of what we were about to do hit me properly.

The paleness of Paul’s skin was slightly lighter there, where the sun rarely touched. Emerging from a small thatch of dark brown hair, the familiar vein along one side seemed to bulge in expectation, precum dripping free as his dick swung. His big, full balls were shaved, swaying. The light shade gave way to the pink head, it’s edges slightly flared, the tip tapered. I was going to take that thing inside my ass. It was no longer a question, I couldn’t imagine backing out, seeing the piece of meat between Paul’s legs.

Catching me looking, Paul smirked and re-positioned himself. After squirting more lube into his hand and working it around a little, he began again with two fingers. But this time, as he inserted them fully, he curled them upwards at their deepest, massaging slightly.

I’d been clueless. My earlier experiments had barely paid attention to the notion of my prostate, just focused on trying to make things fit. I’d heard it could make you cum like crazy, but the pleasure I’d felt so far from my ass had been about the idea more than the physical sensation. As he deftly found the spot, my cock jumped wildly, everything tensing for a moment as I shuddered. It was like there was a direct line from his fingertips to my center, culminating electrically throughout my dick, reverberating back again. The previous sensations were still there, but if Paul had touched me at that moment I might have exploded at the slightest provocation.

“I’ll help you find it on your own sometime,” Paul said, continuing to gently press against it, precum flowing freely from me.

“Three now,” I said, gritting my teeth slightly. “I’m about to bust if you go on.”

Pulling back, he planted as if he was going to continue with two fingers, hooking his ring finger along and pressing it with the other two to form a wedge. For the first time there was real resistance. He had to alternate between fully pressing two inside me and bringing the third into the mix, slowly and gently getting me ready until, at last, the tip of all three eased their way past my opening. I felt a slight twinge of pain, not too much but enough to change my expression.

Slowly, bit by bit, he sunk them deeper inside me. Each tiny advance sent a shiver up my spine, the parting sensation of my tunnel widening infused with the heated sensation of stretching. I told him to stop once, as his fingers widened around the middle and almost hurt, and he held completely still as my hole slowly adjusted. It took much longer than the first two fingers, and he couldn’t withdraw them or move them around without causing discomfort.

After what felt like forever, he bore down, his arm tensing as his fingers pushed the last distance. Not fully buried, which wouldn’t really work considering the position of his hand, but as deep as they could go. I took deep, long breaths, willing my ass to keep from clenching down, which was a surprisingly difficult instinct to suppress. Paul looked fascinated, his lips slightly parted as he stared down, fixated on the tightness enveloping him.

Using one hand, keeping his fingers in place, Paul grabbed the lube and popped the cap, squeezing some on his shaft. He spread it around, jerking off and groaning, clearly worked into a frenzy after so much deliberate preparation.

“You ready?” he asked, gazing into my eyes with a pure expression of need.

I nodded again, suddenly a little nervous but teetering on the brink of losing myself as our anticipation built past its boiling point.

“Fuck me,” I said, confident and demanding. “I want to feel your cock buried inside my ass.”

I usually struggled a little with dirty talk, still awkward around moments like these. Paul growled, unable to form words, his three fingers shifting slightly until he began withdrawing them. The sensation of emptiness was at its strongest just as they left me, and I could tell that my hole was open and waiting, slowly beginning to close. Shuffling forward slightly, Paul placed his cockhead against my entrance just as it was winking shut.

He couldn’t be dexterous or exploratory like his fingers had been. He could position it right, but the only thing to do was apply pressure until he began to sink into me, the feeling of his dripping tip spreading me open causing a wave of goosebumps to break out along my arms and shoulders. Slowly, inexorably, he speared into me until the head of his dick was pushing inside fully.

I’d experienced it once before, but Paul was girthy. I was prepared, but the feeling was so different from his fingers. Just about as wide around, but concentrated in one searing-hot rod, forcing my ass open and getting ready to fill me up deeper than I’d ever experienced. All of this raced through my mind, obliterated in an instant as the sensations overwhelmed everything else, another centimeter of him pushing past my opening.

How much was left? I couldn’t imagine. I was getting stuffed, each tiny push inside causing waves of heat to wash through me, ceaselessly deeper, hungrily seeking my center.

“All good?” I heard him say, his voice tense and unsteady.

I realized he was experiencing a level of wild pleasure as he penetrated my virgin hole. Was he focusing on not cumming? I’d been thinking along those lines when I first entered him. I hadn’t been able to conceive of his experience since the moment he started pushing inside, I was brought down to earth as I realized for every thing I felt, he was going through it in tandem, not wrestling with trying to breathe, just feeling himself plunge inside, watching my reactions.

“Yeah,” I grunted, “just don’t go any faster. You’re so big.”

He was gripping his shaft with one hand at the base, the other one pulling on my thigh to gain leverage.

“You’re,” he panted and groaned as his cock pushed deeper, “so tight it’s unbelievable.”

Something occurred to me.

“Have you done this before?”

Looking down, he pushed a tiny bit deeper, shaking his head slightly.

“Never,” he breathed, “everything else but this.”

I hadn’t even considered it. Suddenly this was more than initiation, we were each having our own first time. No wonder Paul had been so careful and slow.

“I can’t believe it,” I said, struggling to think. “How does it feel?”

He rested, letting me adjust again. I realized he was maybe a third of the way inside, which surprised me. It had felt like a lot more, I was in for a challenge.

“It’s crazy, dude.” His stomach muscles flexed as he tensed, his arms gripping tighter. “It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Warm, wet, tight and squeezing. It’s like your ass is trying to milk my dick, I want to go slow but every movement feels like I might cum.”

Feeling empowered, I flexed my ass the smallest bit, loving the look on his face as he groaned. It caused a twinge of pain, and we had to wait before he could try and go further.

I don’t know what happened, but when Paul was a little more than halfway inside me, something changed. He stopped being able to make steady progress, and no matter how long he stayed there my ass didn’t seem willing to open up further. Frustrated, I suggested he pull back and we start from the beginning.

When he started moving, I could really feel how big he was. My muscles closed where he’d been, quivering and flexing each moment he spent withdrawing. He began pushing forward again, and his progress was quicker than the first time. I was still loving the sensation, but my cock had started to soften after so long trying to succeed. We got to pretty much the exact same spot, but it wasn’t really a matter of pain, I just didn’t seem to be able to take him any deeper.

“I’m sorry,” I said, disappointed.

“Dude,” Paul said, “don’t worry at all, this feels fucking amazing, I can hardly believe you managed this, it’s your first time.”

“How far are you from fitting all the way in?”

“Kinda far,” he replied.

“Just,” I shifted slightly, my muscles feeling slightly tired from holding the same position so long, “fuck me like this.”

He nodded, and this time when he pulled back he didn’t delay, pressing forward a bit faster. We repeated that over and over again, pausing so I could readjust, or so Paul didn’t come, even though I desperately wanted to feel what it was like to have him shoot inside me. After a little while, we weren’t fully going at it, but we worked up a steady rhythm.

As it went on, I had to focus less and less on making sure I remembered everything. The feeling of pressure faded away, and in its place a continuous warmth blossomed in my midsection. Each time Paul’s cock sunk back inside me, I could tell he was going a tiny bit deeper, past the place where we’d stopped before.

Just like that, I realized it was finally happening. Paul was fucking me, sinking his fat cock inside my ass for both of our first times, each of us panting and groaning as we tried to keep it up as long as we could. I was starting to feel a little sore, but the blooming pleasure I experienced each time he moved was far more powerful.

For his part, Paul was holding on admirably but I knew from experience how good it felt to push your cock inside a waiting ass. Each time he finished pushing in, he’d tense and pause for a second, and I knew if he kept moving without stopping at all he’d burst in moments. At one point he stopped completely, buried the deepest he’d gone yet, breathing and holding my legs so tightly his knuckles were white.

“I’m almost balls deep,” he breathed.

Shit, I thought, really? I’d been so lost watching his face and the subtle fluctuations of his muscles that I hadn’t realized we’d made serious progress. The muscles of my ass had finally started giving way, and I couldn’t see everything but Paul’s pelvis was close to my skin.

“Give me your load, dude,” I said. “I want to feel you pump your balls empty inside.”

“You want my cum?” he asked, suddenly intense again. I was beginning to like it when he talked to me that way.

“Yes,” I panted, my own confidence growing.

“I’ve been on the edge this whole time,” he laughed a little.

“I want to feel you bottom out when you do.” I didn’t know exactly why, but it seemed like a complete requirement.

For the first time, I reached down and grabbed my cock. The instant my hand made contact, every sensation I’d been bathing in became more powerful. It would take next to nothing to push me over the edge, I held it but refrained from stroking, wanting to savor everything.

“Do it,” I said, looking up at him hungrily, drinking in the sight of him as he pulled back, his expression almost pained as he surrendered to the instinct he’d been holding in check all night.

He started by thrusting slightly, just the top portion of his cock buried inside me, getting squeezed by my hole as he worked his hips. Then, groaning deep in his chest, Paul pushed inside. All in one movement. The warm feeling that had been building in my stomach reached a high point, overflowing and washing away every thought in my head as I felt him reach the deepest part of me.

The moment his hips touched against me, I began stroking my cock, pointing it towards my face but staring at Paul as I could tell he was starting to cum. I felt his balls come to rest against my ass as he pushed all the way in, then they shifted and pulled up as he reached his moment of climax.

I hardly even got three strokes off before I was cumming. It felt like Paul’s throbbing cockhead was the power source for my orgasm, pushing everything to a new level, adding his own sensations on top of mine. As the feeling built and crested—overwhelming and different with my ass wrapped around him, far stronger and more full-body than what I’d experienced on my own—I felt Paul begin to pump and buck inside me.

It was almost indescribable. It tensed and flexed, swelling and pressing even more against the walls of my ass, and just when I thought I’d come to understand that I wasn’t able to tell if he was shooting, I felt it. His hot jizz spurted inside, the first shot reminding me how much Paul produced, driving me wild. I began cumming fully and my ass tensed around him in time, squeezing out each pump and causing him to groan with the increased tightness.

My first rope exploded out of me, splashing against my chin and chest, gushing in time with the throbbing shifts of Paul inside me. From there it didn’t shoot so much as flood out, which was different but seemed to fit the continuous fervor of getting stuffed while I came. Paul continued unloading in my ass, his hips pressed as hard as he could manage against me. He pulled on my thighs like he was hanging on for dear life, groaning, his voice climbing each time another shot filled me from his churning nuts.

My cum continued to flow, pooling on my chest. The sensation of having my insides flooded was like jet fuel, I could feel each time his balls pumped another spurt as they tensed against my skin, the rough texture of his pubes rubbing against me.

After several more wild, panting seconds Paul relaxed a little, loosening his hold on my thighs and releasing some of his weight from where it had been pressed against me. I grabbed his forearms and pulled. He got the message, leaning forward with his cock still buried in my ass, our lips meeting between huffing breaths. Feeling him pressed against me, his dick still flexing as we made out, felt like the perfect punctuation to an insane tandem orgasm. Each kiss felt different than before, less experimental, more sensual.

When he finally pulled away, I relished the feeling of his softening cock slowly pulling out of me, my muscles relaxing now that I’d come down a little. I realized I was kind of sore all over, but the endorphins rushing through me didn’t care. When his thick dick finally came out, I felt some of his cum run out and trail down my skin, my hole tensing and winking from being so thoroughly worked.

I unbent my waist, vague notions of trying not to soak Paul’s cum into the Parson’s carpet floating like dandelion fluff through me, unimportant. Paul collapsed alongside me, flipping onto his back and breathing heavily.

“Holy shit,” he said, and I watched his dick loll against his leg, still amazed it had managed to fit inside me.

“That was insane.” I could think of nothing else.

We lay there for a while, our skin barely touching, catching our breath and basking in the experience we’d just shared. The dull ache in my ass felt satisfying, like I’d achieved something deeply important, graduating further into the secret we shared. Eventually, Paul retrieved our beers and we clinked them lazily, too tired to move from the floor, enjoying the basement’s cool air.

[][][]

A couple of days later the guys returned from their trip, bragging about how much fun they’d had, trying to taunt us for not throwing a party in the empty house. Paul and I smirked about our woodworking, playing like we’d really missed out, making plans for coming along to the next one.

My phone began buzzing. I picked it up, confused as I saw the name displayed on the caller ID.

“Hello?”

“Dean,” said Wes Parson, his tone dead serious. He always used that ex-army voice when he talked to us, but this was another level.

When he didn’t go on, I replied.

“Hey, Mr. Parson, what’s up? Did I forget something over there?”

“I don’t think so,” he replied, still stony, “unless you knew before that I keep video surveillance of the house, inside and out. Did you forget that?”

I froze. The guys noticed immediately, Jamie cracking a smile when he saw my face.

“You what?” I barely managed to say, my voice catching.

“I’ll take that to mean you didn’t know, then,” he went on. “I could have guessed that, watching you get fucked by your little friend, there.”

I swallowed hard. Sweat beaded across my skin as panic started to set in.

“I don’t know-”

“Yeah you do.” He didn’t sound angry, exactly. Just completely flat. “You two were busy all weekend, weren’t you? Using my house like you owned the place.”

I couldn’t help myself. I looked over at Paul for half a second, my words caught in my throat. He just stared.

“You better come over tomorrow night, son. We’re going to need to talk about this.”

“But-”

“Bring your boyfriend, too. You two have some explaining to do.”