Tag: gay best friend

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vallentiro14:

“I can’t get used to this,” Jack muttered.
“Used to what?”
“This Speedo is so tight. So showy.”
“You have an insanely hot body, don’t you want to show it off?”
Jack looked down at himself as if this is news. “I mean. I don’t mind showing off, but, isn’t showing off my bulge too much? Feels like everyone can see every curve.”
“The color and pattern obscures the fine lines, but I can see you’re packing. You’re too old to be wearing long shorts like you’re a teena- Stop pullin’ the side down, you’re just being a tease now!”
“Sorry sorry. I like how it’s more snug than board shorts, but…still weird.”
As we stood there on the lake shore discuss the merits of Speedos, another man strolled by. “Hey gorgeous,” he said to Jack. “Hot look.” And he winked.
Jack opened his mouth to say something, but just barely stammered out a ‘thanks’ before the man was out of earshot.
“See?” I said.
Jack adjusted the band of the underwear. “Guess there is some merit to this.”
“Well,” I shrugged. “If you don’t like it, you could go naked instead.”
Jack looked horrified. “No.”
I giggled. “You’re so easy to tease. Ok, now I have to teach you how to walk.”
“I know how to walk.” Jack replied. He tilted his head at me.
“No silly. Like, strut. I am going to force some confidence in you if it kills me.”
“I wish I could take some of yours. How do you get to be so confident?” Jack asked.
“Just time. Learning fashion, nutrition, and taking care of my body until I like what I saw in the mirror. But I picked up this guy once in a bar- typical nervous closeted office worker who desperately needed some pity sex- and he said to me, ‘What’s a hot guy like you want with a guy like me?’ and it blew my mind. No one had called me hot before. I never even thought of myself as hot. I took that guy back to my apartment, wore him out, and made him late for work the next day. And fixed his haircut. The sides were soooooooo bad.”
Jack smiled. “That does sound like you. You like to help people and leave em better than you found em.”
“I’m the Gay Red Cross. Wait no.” I thought and rubbed my chin with my fingers. “The Red St. Andrews Cross for Wayward Gays. That’s my charity.”
The reference to a piece of BDSM furniture made Jack snort out a laugh. “Nothing has described you so well in your whole life. Make that new your Grindr headline.”
“Oh my fucking god Jack, you are brilliant, Jack” I whipped out of my phone to do that. By the time I was done, Jack was hit on again, this time by a studly bear.
“Huh,” Jack said after he left. “Ok, I think I’m ready to start practicing strutting now.”
I clapped my hands together. “Excellent. I just love spending my time doing charity work.”
Jack shook his head. “You are too much!”
“You love me.”
“You are my best friend.” Jack blew a kiss at me.
I “caught” it. “Love you too. Ok, go stand over there. Stand up straight. Shoulders up, head back, walk with purpose! Count those steps! One two three four, five six seven eight!”

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Captions are fictional.

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“I’m just gonna grab something one se- …McConnell what the heck are you doing in here?”
McConnell looks sheepish. “Well you see,” he points to the cot he’s blocking. “It’s Donahue’s birthday, and he’s sick in bed. We have a shortage of gay porn here, so I’m giving him a dance to entertain him.”
McConnell makes a face. “I thought the Marines were supposed to be gayer than us.” He grabbed what he needed from his cot and left.
Donahue coughed. “Damn straight they’re gayer than us, and that’s coming from a gay man. Army pride.”
McConnell looks at him.
“What? Gonna set things…straight around here, I guess. Are you going to finish McConnell?”
“You actually want me to keep going?”
“Oh fuck yeah I do. You have a nice ass. Keep it up.”
“Uh why thank you Donahue. Alright, cue the music!”

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Captions are fictional.

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John stared as his best friend peeled off the polo shirt that clung to every muscle. He tried to act casual and not react to the fact that his cock was hardening in his jeans. He’d seen Mark shirtless before, but god, there was something the actual act of taking it off…watching him peel off every inch to reveal slabs of meat under marbled skin. John still couldn’t believe that Mark had offered to spice up a game of pool by making it into strip pool.
“Now we’re even,” Mark smirked, chucking it aside.
John tried to act normal. “Yeah, I guess we are.” He fumbled with the pool cue, staring hard at the table.
“Got it there  John?”
“Yep. Just one two many beers I guess.”
“You seeing two balls instead of one there?” Mark laughed.
John felt his pants grow even tighter at the way Mark said the word “balls”. Would it sound that way, if he said it husky and breathless? Yeah baby, love the way my balls feel smacking against your tight ass… John lined up the shot and sent a striped ball ricocheting.
Mark laughed. “Man, I had no idea you were such a lightweight!”
“I guess I should have eaten earlier,” John muttered, passing the pool cue.
Mark took it. “Well you know the rule. Belt off.”
John sighed and undid it. It was quite a dilemma. In order to get Mark naked, he’d have to kick his ass in pool, but every time he won, he got more distracted by Mark’s loss of clothes. What a problem! He was working the belt in his hands, twisting it and lightly snapping the two parts together, worrying it as he pondered the situation. Then, something interested happened. Mark kept looking at him, distracted… and then he blew his shot. John raised an eyebrow. He looked at the belt in his hands, then up at Mark. Mark coughed, looking oddly red in the face.
“Your fuckery is contagious,” Mark said accusingly.
John felt a flame of lust flicker in his gut. If that meant what he thought he did… John grinned. “Maybe you should drink more.”
“Ohhh no no no,” Mark said quickly. “That, is a very bad idea. Your turn.”
“You first. You gotta take something off now.”
“I’m not wearing a belt,” Mark retorted.
“Lose your socks then.”
“Damn.”
John snickered. They were both down to their pants now. John set his belt carefully on the edge of the pool table. Mark’s eyes followed it the entire time. John picked up the pool cue. Things were about to get much more interesting. He was finally going to get an answer if Mark preferred boxers or briefs.

John was not prepared for a jockstrap, or waking up on the pool table the next morning holding it in his hand.

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Captions are fictional.

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“Aaand there. All done. Fresh and clean.”
I watched fondly as Dion smoothed the edges of the bandage. I couldn’t help but give him a little smile. “Thank you for changing that out. Makes me sick to my stomach.”
“Yeah it was pretty gross,” he admitted. “The infection is going away though. What matters is that your leg is gonna be fine right?”
“Yep. The doctor said the surgery went well. I should be able to ski next season. That is, if I don’t get into another car accident, of course.”
“Good,” Dion said, running his fingers over my thigh. “Does it hurt?”
I nodded. “I’ve been cutting back on the pills cause I’m scared of getting addicted to them.”
“Where does it hurt?”
I tore my eyes away from watching his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. I wondered how he shaved so close. I was always scruffy. “Um. It hurts here.” I pointed to the middle of the bandage.
I felt all the air rush out of my lungs when he bent over and placed a most delicate kiss against it. “Better?” he purred.

“Y-yes,” I said. “Also here.” I pointed to a spot on my thigh where a thick scab had formed. I was in my underwear, putting my legs on full display.
“Mmm.” Dion kissed it too.“
“And… here, on my hip, where it’s bruised.”
“Poor baby.” I tried not to gasp as his soft lips brushed my pelvis. He was so close to my crotch, that it was exciting me. I had no idea what sort of game he was playing. Dion was my best friend, but after my accident, he had been there for more than anyone else. He was the one holding my hand when I woke up in the hospital.
“And … here.” I pointed to my sternum, where the air bag had hit it. Dion pulled himself up towards me to reach it. He was so close now I could smell his shampoo. My heart was racing. The air felt thicker, warmer, and it wasn’t just because we were in Vermont, in June.
“Anywhere else?” he asked, his voice raspy. I never noticed before that he had little flecks of gold in his eyes.
“Yeah…” I murmured. “Here.” I placed the tip of my finger on my tongue, hoping, praying, he would take it this far.

Dion gazed at me, looking for answers in my face. I must have looked pitiful and desperate for his attention, all banged up and needy.
“There? What hurts there?” he said in a teasing tone of voice.
“I bit it this morning, eating breakfast.”
He chuckled, a low, velvety bass note. “You really are helpless without me to fix everything aren’t you?”
I nodded.
“Here?” he asked, sliding his finger against my tongue. “Oh I feel a bump.”
I reached up and grabbed his wrist as vertigo swallowed me up. This was becoming too much, this close intimacy. It was going all too fast. “Dion-”
“Don’t worry, I’ll make that feel better too.”
Before I could protest, he dipped his head and pushed his full lips against mine. My jaw muscles clenched to kiss him back hard, then slackened so I could open my mouth and let him in. He rubbed his tongue against mine, kissing me so deeply he stole all the air right out of my lungs. I moaned, and released his retreating wrist so I could cup his cheek.
“Dion,” I gasped between his assaults. He spilled his pent up emotions into me. He was finally allowing himself to taste me and have me after no doubt telling himself for weeks that I was “only a friend”. I felt something nudge against my other thigh and I realized a moment later what it was. Dion was erect and jutting forward. He was wearing thin sweatpants over his jockstrap, I would later discover, and it betrayed him entirely. I resisted rising up underneath him to grind against him, as I was also full of need.
He broke the kiss, and he hovered over me, panting. “Wow,” was all he said. “You feel better?”
“Y-yeah. Better than any pill the doctors gave me.”
“Good.” He began to nuzzle my jaw, not minding the scratchy stubble. “D-…Dion?”
“Yeah?” he said, sounding distant and hazy.
“I have another problem now.”
“Hm?”
“Down there…between my legs. It’s a bit hot, and it hurts a little, because it’s so tight.”
Without even hesitating, Dion reached down and placed his palm over my cock trapped in my underwear. I inhaled, making a rather unsexy sounding choking noise. “Dion!”
“Yeah, that is definitely a problem. Mmn…wow you are really hard. You’re big when you’re hard. Can I…can I touch you, in your underwear? I’ve never gotten to play with a guy before. I’ve always…always wanted to.”
“Ooooh yeah, you can. You’ve done such a good job of taking care of me. I wouldn’t deny you anything.”
“Would you play with mine?” he asked, tilting his head.
“I’ll reward you for everything,” I rasped, unsure if this was really happening.
“Good,” he sighed, petting me. I whimpered. Dion took that as an invitation to kiss me back.This time, I could not resist the urge to frot up against him, and to my sheer delight, Dion squeeze my shaft and rubbed his own against my crotch. My vision began to swim, and my heart thudded in my chest as my dormant sex drive awake. Then, Dion pressed his weight on top of me and the edges of reality began to unravel.

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Text is fictional.

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“Uh Sam?”
“What is it Todd?” My best friend had come over to shower after our baseball game as my house was closer. His was way out in the country. 
“I um, might have made a mistake.”
“What is it?”
“Ya know how I said I was gonna go take one of your Claratin for my allergies?”
“Uh huh?” I asked, tilting my head.
“Well I accidentally took a sleeping pill instead.”
I blinked. “Well that wasn’t very smart, Todd.”
“I know!” he whines, stamping his foot. “I grabbed the wrong box.”
“Was it a small dose?”
“It has the same shit in it as Benedryl,” Todd said.
“Uh oh,” I chuckled “You are gonna pass out.”
“Make it stop,” he protests.
“I can’t. Are you going to fall asleep?
Todd thought. “Well I almost fell asleep in the car on the way over here. The damn game took so much energy out of me, running around in the outfield like that. If I couldn’t stay awake there then there’s now way I can stay awake now! Sam do something.”

I snorted. “I can’t magically undo this, Todd. I can give you my guest bed though. It’s comfy.” 
Todd sighed in surrender, then yawned. “Fine.”

I tucked him in. My hand brushed his skin which was still warm from the shower and burnished bronze from the sun. I watched with secret fascination as Todd nuzzled into the down comforter and got comfy. He was just so adorable. I was a bit uncomfortable with just how much I had a crush on him.

Right as Todd was about to fall asleep, he opened a heavy eye and said, “Stay with me for a bit.” I didn’t know what he meant by that, but he looked so vulnerable and sweet in that big bed. I crawled in there with him, wrapped my arms around him, and dozed off. When I woke up, Todd was pressed against me, head tucked under my chin, breathing softly.

I realized that I had gotten too close and that if Todd woke up now, I’d scare my best straight friend away. I regretfully extracted myself and tiptoed out of the room. The sun had set now, and my stomach was growling.

To my pleasure, Todd slept through the night. When he came down for breakfast the next morning morning, he was ruffled and rumpled. 
“How did you sleep? I asked, offering him OJ.”
He took the glass and sipped. “mm. Fruity. I slept well, thanks. I had a really nice dream…I can’t quite remember it now. It was like I was in a womb or something. Something was all around me, and I was SO warm and comfy.”

I blushed and turned back to the quiche I was making. “Is that so?”:
“Mmhm. It was nice. I like that bed. I wanna sleep here again sometime.”
“You are welcome to sleep here as often as you want, Todd.You know that.”
Todd looked at me oddly, then opened his mouth before deciding to close it. He turned away. 
“What?” I inquired, setting the spatula down.
“Do…you ever get the feeling that we’re more than brothers, Sam?”
My mind raced. What did that mean? “…You mean like, soul mates?” I asked.
Todd’s face lit up. I saw relief flicker on his face.  “Yeah exactly like that.”
I walked up to him and put an arm around his shoulder. “Yeah, bro, just like that. Nothing more.”

Then, I noticed he was half-hard..

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Text is fictional.

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Johnny pauses in reflection before the next client arrives. He’s still sore from morning yoga, and his first client really liked to spank him while riding him. Three more to go. Today’s busy. Johnny knows he’s gonna have to use the Viagra later. He doesn’t really want to, but his clients like when he’s horny. Johnny suspects it makes them feel less dirty, less perverted, to be fucking a boy who is turned on. He’s sure that all his clients believe him to be a horny slut that badly needs to be fucked by several guys in order to feel sane. He also has an inkling it goes hand in hand with his “bad boy” image, with the tattoos and piercings and cocky attitude. Johnny still loves it when a man stops dead in their tracks when he drops the towel. He designed his body to be a piece of art. Hell, Johnny advertised his services by “inviting” potential buyers to an “interactive art exhibit” on m4m backpages. His inbox is never empty.

Johnny checks his bank account balance on his phone. He almost has enough. Being so close to his goal has been making him kind of crazy. He’d been selling himself for over a year now for quick money, watching in frustration as his balance went up and down with rent and bills. So close. Johnny drifts off for a moment, fantasizing about the moment when he breaks the news to his best friend Saul that he can now afford reconstructive surgery to fix his burned face and hands. Insurance didn’t cover cosmetic procedures, and university bills drained Saul dry. Johnny missed going out with his friend, who didn’t leave the house except to go to class. He lived off disability, like a hermit. Johnny felt so helpless after his friend was injured in that apartment fire, so angry at his neighbor for smoking next to an oxygen tank. This was his way of righting a wrong.

Maybe it was also something else, for Johnny had a crush on Saul since he was 16. He has a feeling Saul wouldn’t want him, not after he’d whored himself out like this, but for Johnny it would be enough just to make Saul smile. He’s a selfless boy. Well, not entirely. After he got Saul taken care of, Johnny plans to get right back to whoring. He wants to take a trip to Bali and hit the waves. Maybe Saul would come with him. Yeah, that’d be great.

A knock on the door brings Johnny back to present. He grabs a bathrobe off the chair. “Coming~” he calls as he rises off the bed. One more client, one step closer. Hey, this one is hot at least.

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Text is fictional. This is Stephen James.