27th April 2001: One of my most popular stories of all time judging from the amount of feedback I received when I first released it!

Straight Guys Messing About

Part 1

 

This happened a few years ago while I was staying with my friend Ed who was at Birmingham Uni. It was after his summer exams and I was there for the weekend, mainly so we could both get as pissed as possible for as long as possible. My girlfriend at that time hadn’t wanted to go with me because she didn’t know Ed (I knew him from school) and wasn’t as interested in alcohol as I am.

On Friday night, Ed and I went to a few pubs in Birmingham , spending most of the time with his girlfriend, Catherine, and her friend, Shannon. Catherine seemed really possessive of Ed and wanted him to devote all of his time to her. This was a bit annoying because it meant Shannon and I spent most of the night making smalltalk and as it happened we didn’t really have much in common.

At about 11.30, Ed and I said we were going back to his place to start on some cans I’d brought over with me. Catherine was clearly pissed off about this – she’d wanted him to go back to her flat with her, I think, and made some curt comments about “having her own life” and “going out to enjoy herself”. She and Shannon were apparently going clubbing with some other friends, and she’d see Ed the next morning at about 10, she said.

On the way back to his flat, Ed told me he was getting irritated by Catherine and wanted to end it. He’d tried to do this, though, and she’d thrown hysterics. He’s a bit of a softy and I guess he didn’t want to hurt her by dumping her.

Anyway, by about 2 in the morning we were both pretty drunk and he was in a much better mood. By now we’d decided that the best policy was to get her to dump him, so then he wouldn’t feel guilty. We talked about him doing objectionable things in front of her friends and making her embarrassed, but that wasn’t really his style. He suggested, in a joking way, that we should be curled up together on the bed when she came around.

“That wouldn’t really work – how would she get in without one of us waking up to let her in,” I said.

“The door’s always open when I’m in here – so that wouldn’t be so unusual,” he said, “and the flat door’s usually kept unlocked during the day”.

I kind of liked the idea, especially as it was unlikely that word would get back to Southampton, where I’m at Uni, or to my girlfriend. “Wouldn’t it bother you that people would think you were gay?” I said.

“Naah,” he replied, staring into space and obviously giving a lot of thought to the whole plan. I pointed out that it might make it difficult for him to get another girlfriend afterwards. “Who would believe the daft bitch,” he said. “She always talking bullshit about things that have supposedly happened to her.”

We got undressed for bed, down to our t-shirts and briefs, talking about other stuff.

When I was sitting on my sleeping bag on the floor, and he was on his bed, I asked him, “Are you sure you want to go through with this tomorrow? We’ll have to set the alarm for 9.30.”

He said, “Would you mind? I mean, would it bother you?”

“No not at all.”

“Yeah, okay then.”

We talked about how best to do it. We decided that being caught sleeping together wouldn’t really incriminate him – we might have been so pissed that we just collapsed onto his bed together.

“How about if I pretend to suck you off, Seb?” he said. “She’d just see me kneeling on the floor with my head at your waste level, bobbing around a bit…”

I found this quite funny. “How do you mean – I mean, where will I be?” I asked. He explained again but I insisted on a rehearsal.

I got on the bed in a kneeling position and he kneeled on the floor in front of me. He put his head into my lap, his face pressed up to the front of my red briefs, and then moved his head in and out. Again I found this quite amusing. “This will look totally ridiculous. She’ll fucking piss herself laughing when she sees this.”

He said, “Yeah, the briefs don’t quite work, do they?”

My main problem had actually been the obviously staged position that we were in, but I suggested that I could take them off, if he thought it would help. I must tell you that at this point I still wasn’t at all aroused by this – I am fundamentally straight – and didn’t have ulterior motives.

I pulled off my briefs, and my t-shirt, saying, “It’s important that she can’t see my cock.”

“Yeah – it’ll be kind of embarrassing to you,” he said.

“Well it’s not that,” I went on, “I couldn’t actually care what she sees – but she’ll kind of wonder what the fuck we’re doing if she sees I’m limp and it’s not wet from your mouth”.

I knelt on the bed again, now naked. My cock hung over the top of my balls, about 4 or 5 inches. I saw Ed take a look at it but I put this down to the fact that, as a blond guy, I have light brown pubic hair which looks a bit weird until you’re used to it. I also thought he might be looking at my body because I play a lot of basketball now, which I never played at school, and so I’m in much better shape than I was when he knew me at school.

Again, he pressed his face into my crotch, his chin touching my cock. I felt slightly embarrassed at this point, because I’d never had a guy with his face so close to my cock. I’ve been naked in front of loads of guys in locker rooms and showers and that’s never bothered me. But here was my mate breathing in the smell of my pubic hair, and it felt a bit weird. I was a bit afraid he’d be totally repulsed by it and do a “what-the-fuck-are-we-doing” routine, but he didn’t. He bobbed his head again, his chin catching my hanging dick as he moved in and out.

It occured to me how hot we must look in this position. Here we were, two guys at around 20 years old, both slim, tall and with reasonably attractive faces, appearing to have sex together. Ed has short black hair and is about six foot two. I am blond, my hair being a bit longer than his, and am about 6 feet tall. My body, unlike Ed’s, is fairly hairless – I have a slight fuzz of hair on my chest but nothing substantial.

After a few seconds of pretending to give me a blow job, he pulled away. “I don’t think it’s that convincing” he said. “I mean, when she comes in, the first thing I would do would be to look over at her, kind of surprised I guess…” He paused to giggle at the idea of this, then continued, “and she’d notice that your cock was soft.”

“I guess she’d have to conclude that you aren’t so good at giving head,” I said.

I decided to be bold – the scenario involving Ed sucking me off was getting us nowhere. “What if I blow you?” I said. “I’ll sit on the bed and you stand up in front of me. That way, when she comes in you can turn your head, do the shocked routine, and never show her your cock.”

He liked this idea so he stood up in front of me. He pulled his t-shirt up, exposing his flat stomach with its thick black line of hair disappearing into his underpants. His briefs were white with thin dark blue stripes. I remember thinking that his cock looked big inside them, even though it was clearly limp, and feeling a bit worried about the idea of putting my face near it. However, I pretended to be cool about it all and moved forward to pretend to give him head.

I nuzzled my face into his crotch, feeling his cock through the material of his briefs against my nose. The bell of it was close to my lips and his balls pressed into my chin – I could feel each of them on either side of it. Like Ed, I moved my face away and towards his crotch. I could smell his briefs – they smelled quite strongly of piss, actually. That wasn’t a turn-off, exactly, it was just kind of unexpected. The smell was totally different from the pissy smell I’d sometimes noticed around girls’ pussies – stronger, sharper and definately “male”. There was also a smell of sweat, but this wasn’t so strong.

I became aware, as I bobbed in and out from his underpants feeling mildly ridiculous, that I ought to be doing something with my hands. I thought, “What do girls do with their hands when they’re sucking me off?” and realised that I ought to be holding onto his butt. So I said, “I reckon I need to show a bit more willing, Eddie boy…” and gripped on to his arse. Each of my hands cupped one of his butt cheeks, the fingers pointing upwards and inwards. Out of habit, I started pushing my fingers into his crack, and then remembering it was a guy I was with, stopped myself. I must say that I really liked the feel of his arse. I’m definately a butt-guy – it’s always my favorite part of a girl – and I was interested at how different Ed’s rear felt from any girl I’d been with. I’d noticed that guys tend to have broader and shorter bums than girls, but had obviously never felt one in detail. It felt much more muscular and rounder than a girl’s arse and yet surprisingly soft. I tried not to make it too obvious that I was enjoying groping his butt, but I just casually moved my hands around his cheeks, kind of kneeding them through the thin material of his briefs.

Ed broke my thoughts by pulling back and saying that this was definately working. “If I keep my arse towards the door,” he went on, “she won’t see anything of my cock.”

What about when you turn around?”

He shrugged and had a go of turning around. His middle-body also turned slightly and I pointed out that she might see his limp cock as he did so. “Naah,” he said, “there’s no way – it’s totally hidden.”

“Only because your t-shirt is so baggy.”

He pulled it off, exposing his lightly haired chest. Ed didn’t do a lot of exercise, but his chest was nicely proportioned and since, irritatingly, he didn’t seem capable of gaining weight, he looked quite attractive.

He stood there now in just his underpants. This was the first time I’d really looked at a guy wearing only his briefs and I must admit I was kind of interested by the way he looked. Not so interested that I had to conceal my cock – but interested enough to be aware that it would be starting to thicken up if I wasn’t in a seated position. Ed’s cock really filled his stripy briefs well – it was pointing down and its shape against his balls was clear. The room was dimly lit but I noticed that the lower part of his briefs were slightly more yellow than the upper part. No wonder I could smell his piss – looked like he hadn’t taken them off in about three days.

He stood in front me and practiced turning towards the door. As he did so, I got an all-round view of his cock and balls inside his briefs. I had to admit to myself that he looked quite beautiful in his well-fitting underpants. I didn’t think of this as homosexual: I am happy enough with my sexuality to admit that I find some other guys attractive without necessarily wanting to have sex with them.

Anyway, Ed said, “Let’s try it again, Seb. Dress rehearsal.” I didn’t know what he meant by “dress rehearsal” until he bent to pull off his briefs. Before I knew it he was standing in front of me, his limp but weighty cock hanging over his hairy balls, waiting for me to go through the fake blow job motions. His cock was a bit bigger than mine while limp and I noticed that his foreskin was pulled back slightly, revealing a little of his piss slit and bell end. Above it was a thick bush of dark pubic hair – much thicker than mine. In fact, I kind of envied his equipment – it looked so much more substantial than my own.

I moved forward on the bed, and again pushed my face towards his groin. The smell without his underpants was different – again it was a very “male” smell, but now it was more subtle and less like a gents toilet. “Suck my cock, man,” he said, without any seriousness, and thrust his crotch into my face. Again I grabbed his butt cheeks, and I was now aware of how hairy they were – again, this was quite interesting. He kept thrusting in a mock-sexual way and each time he did it his cock smacked me in the mouth, the exposed part of his bell hitting my lower lip. I could feel the muscles of his arse tensing to thrust and I worked my fingers slightly into his arse crack, feeling that it was quite damp in there.

Without saying anything, he moved his hands round to the back of my head and held it, continuing to thrust his weighty cock into my face. Licking my lower lip between thrusts, I tasted the slightly salty taste of the end of his cock. The hair on his balls, also very thick, tickled my chin and was getting up my nose. Again it smelled interesting – I was thinking that this was how my own cock must smell.

He said, “So she comes in…” and turned his upper body towards the door. His cock stayed firmly in my face and I stared at the dark bush of pubic hair above it. Then he said, “Can you see the door, Seb?”

I said, “No I’ve got your cock in my face, if you hadn’t noticed.”

He said, “Success, methinks. If you can’t see her, she can’t see what you’re doing – or not, as the case may be.”

I took my hands away from his arse and he backed off. He crouched in front of me and we looked at each other. My legs were slightly open and he looked at my cock, still limp and hanging down between my legs, the end touching his duvet. I looked at his cock, thinking that it looked a little bigger and stood out slightly further than it had when he first peeled off his briefs.

After thinking about it, he said, “Turn around”

“Why?”

“No just turn around – you might be grossed out if I tell you.” I guess I looked a bit quizzical because he added, “it’s not that bad – honestly!” So I turned around on his bed, kneeling, showing him my arse. He said, “What do you think she’d think if she saw me doing this to you…” He pushed my back down towards the wall and the bed, exposing more of my bum, and I felt his breath against the lower part of my arse crack. Then he moved his head back and forth again, kind of like he was giving a blow job to my arse. Now I felt the end of his nose push into my crack every time he bobbed forwards.

“Well I can’t really see what you’re doing,” I said. “But it feels a bit weird. What’s it supposed to be?”

“I’m rimming you,” he replied, “or at least pretending to.”

“Uh?”

“Gay guys lick each other’s butts. I heard that somewhere. It’s called rimming. I reckon it would look convincing.”

Again he pushed his face into my butt, and now I felt his lips against my cheeks, right near my arsehole. I liked the feeling – his lips were warm and soft and I could feel his breath tickling the hair in my arse crack. Despite what I’d said, I knew about rimming and liked doing it to my girlfriends. I’d always wanted one to do it to me, but they get kind of weird about arse stuff.

“I don’t think it would be that obvious to her what you’re doing,” I said. “Maybe if I got up and squated down…” He didn’t object so I got up and, with my feet on the edge of his matress, I squated down and bent forwards with my hands against the wall, aware that I was now exposing a lot more of my arse crack to him and wondering what he’d do. My cock and balls hung down between my legs and he could probably see them through my legs. I hoped it wasn’t obvious to him that my cock, though not sticking out, was quite significantly larger than it had been when I was sitting on the bed.

He said, “Yeah that’s a hell of a lot better.” Then he giggled and said, “Nice ringpiece,” and kind of ran his finger around my arsehole. This really turned me on and yet feeling that way sort of chilled me, causing me to wonder why the hell I was doing this with another guy. Ed, oblivious to my issues, re-applied his mouth to my arse. This time his lips surrounded my arse hole, being more firmly planted against my cheeks than before, and I could feel the heat of his breath against my anus. He seemed to enjoy just breathing in while his head was so near to my bum – I guess he liked the smell of my arse. He laughed again – he seemed not to be taking this too seriously – and said, “Don’t fucking fart, Seb, will you?” Then he said, “Sorry – I got closer than I thought that time. I got spit around your arse.” Again, he applied his finger and swept it up and down my arse crack, spreading the beads of spit and moistening it. He seemed totally comfortable about touching my anus and his finger kept running over it as he moved it up and down. This was really exciting me: my face felt red and my cock was now hard and feeling desperately in need of attention.

I desperately wanted Ed to rim me: to stick his tongue into my butthole and lick and suck and push it in and out. But I couldn’t exactly say this. He seemed to be enjoying it too, but he kept laughing and making jokes so maybe in his eyes this was just two drunk straight lads pissing about.

After a few seconds – but it seemed like a lot longer – he stopped and, sniffing his finger, said, “Stay like that – what do you think of us putting on the full works for her?” I had to stay in my crouching position anyway because if I moved he would see my hard on. It’s not something I can easily hide, being about eight inches long when I’m stiff. He stood up and got behind me. He pressed his cock against my wet arse, sort of wedging it in my crack like a hot dog sausage, and made thrusting movements. His cock, still mostly limp I presume, was sliding up and down my arse crack. He gripped my hips and let out a sudden laugh. “What the fuck would she do if she saw this? She’d fuckin’ freak.”

I was feeling slightly uncomfortable with this. Here I was, bending over on my mate’s bed, having him work his dick against my butt crack. This shouldn’t really be happening! But I kept thinking, “Maybe this is not so weird – we’re just pissing about really.” But it seemed that Ed was really getting into it. He held onto my waste and was clearly enjoying using my bum cheeks to jerk himself off. I moved my head downward so that I could check the state of his cock through my legs. I could see his balls bouncing up and down behind my balls. That looked kind of cool – his dark bushy balls, hanging low and jumping about right behind my own light brown, lightly haired and more solid ball sac. My own cock was a bit softer than it had been when Ed had been pretending to rim me, but it still stood up towards my belly button. I could see glimpses of Ed’s cock as it slid up and down my crack: it was now definitely thicker than before and from the feel of it against my butt, it was very hard.

As I watched, Ed took one hand off my waist and moved his cock so that the end of it pressed against my butthole. I could feel it pushing right against my most sensitive spot and – unexpectedly – it felt fantastic. There was no doubt that he was fully hard. Without saying anything, he replaced his hand on my waist and then started thrusting again, sort of jabbing his dick against my hole. Each time he pushed, the tip of his cock hit a different spot around my anus and I felt prickling sensations race up my spine. I don’t know if he noticed but I opened my legs a bit more and pushed my bum out further towards him. I just wanted to feel more of his cock teasing my hole.

One of the jabs caused him to push the end of his cock right into the middle of my hole and, I guess since it was so damp down there from his spit and precum, the tip of his cock pushed its way into my arse. He waited a few seconds, totally still, with maybe half an inch of his cock inside me. This was all too much to me – for the first time my body was being invaded by the cock of another guy and I didn’t know whether to enjoy the tingling sensations that were making me feel so fucking horny, or whether to feel disgusted with myself for getting into this and liking it.

I guess Ed decided he’d given me enough of a chance to opt out and after a few seconds he continued pushing his dick into my rear. It felt so painful – remember I’d had no proper lube – that I cried out and pulled away: “Whoa, whoa. That’s too fucking painful.” His cock kind of popped out of my butt with a weird sucking sound – now we neither of us could pretend that it hadn’t actually been in there. My arse felt so good after the intrusion – it was still tingling and making me feel so hot that I desperately wanted to masturbate to relieve it.

I turned around to face him, kneeling on the bed with my body upright. Ed’s cock – now looking impossibly big – curved upwards, the foreskin pulled fully back and the bell an angry purple-red colour. The end was quite wet – probably a combination of his precum and my bumsweat, I guess. I think it was probably longer than mine, but it’s difficult for me to judge since I don’t often see a hard cock face-on. I must admit that I found his erection slightly intimidating – I’d never been around another guy while he was in a state of lust and the size and curve of Ed’s large cock seemed to demand gratification.

Ed looked my my cock, in a similar state of course, and maybe the same thoughts were going through his head. It seemed weird, the two of us guys facing each other with our hard cocks poking out from our bodies. I think I was saying to myself, Come on Seb – where’s the tits? Where’s the pussy? What the fuck are you going to do with this guy?

Ed said, “I guess it looks more convincing if we’re hard…” I figured that to be a bit lame under the circumstances. I looked back at his dick and thought, oh what the hell.

I replied, “Look, Eddie. If you want to fuck me, you can. But I want to fuck you too. To see how it feels”. Even as I was saying this, I was immediately wishing that I wasn’t. Just in case I’d somehow misunderstood the situation.

He stared at me. His face was very red and he looked as if his forehead was beaded with sweat. He looked back towards my cock, still rock solid and curving up towards him. He said, “Yeah, all right. I guess I’ve always wondered what it would be like. And we’re mates – there’s no strings…”

I said, “I’m gonna need another beer, though.”

 

Part 2

9th November 2001: The follow-up to one of my most popular stories, but this one didn’t go down so well. I guess I dropped the ball!

I opened another can and drank about half of it in one go. I felt so hot from what we’d been doing. My face felt like it was purple.

I looked over at him as I took a few more gulps of the beer. It had become warm from sitting around in his room, but I was thirsty enough not to care.

Ed kept glancing over at me and then looking away. He was taking a few short gulps from his can, but didn’t seem as thirsty as I was. His face was quite red and his forehead covered with beads of sweat, some of which were trickling down into his eyebrows. A few clumps of his short black hair was sticking to his skin, making swirls like he’d gelled it that way deliberately.

My cock was losing some of its stiffness. His wasn’t. It curved upwards, its bell end throbbing and such a dark shade of scarlet that it looked sore.

He looked over at me again: I realised he was impatient to start. Perhaps he was anxious in case I’d go totally limp and back out from what we’d agreed to do. He was obviously very keen: he really wanted this. He was feeling horny and he wanted to fuck me. The realisation of that felt strange: it’s not every day that your straight mate looks at you with lust.

I took another swig of my beer. Then, smiling at him, I said, “I suppose you wanna go first.”

He grinned broadly, his eyes wide open in exaggerated enthusiasm. He said, in the voice of the dog in Dastardly and Muttley, “Yeah yeah yeah!”

I said, “Jesus, Ed. You’re really up for this, aren’t you.”

He kept smiling. He looked down at his cock. He said, “Well, I can’t really pretend I’m not enjoying it… but, well, if you wanna back out, it’s no big deal…”

“No, I don’t wanna back out. I’m as interested as you are to find out how it – ah – feels and stuff.” I paused, allowing him a chance to speak. He didn’t take it so I continued, “It’s just – you know – it kind of feels a bit weird. I can’t pretend I’m like totally relaxed or anything…”

He said, impatiently, “Fuck Seb, you’re one of my best mates. This is just like pissing around in the dorms at school. No big deal.”

I considered what he’d said. I looked at him sceptically, a slight smile on the corners of mouth. “I think it’s a bit more than that, Ed. I mean it’s not just a quick wank-off together.”

He said, “No but… well. It’s not like we’re going to boyfriends or anything. Just experimenting. Trying stuff out.”

I didn’t comment. My cock was now totally limp and dangled from my pubic hair looking a poor relation to his erection which still rose proudly at full length from his bush.

I took another drink and finished off the can. I squeezed it and crumpled it, enjoying the metallic sounds it made as it collapsed. Then I threw it into his bin.

I said, “So how do you want me, big boy?”

He smiled again. “Like you were before, I guess. Squatting on the edge of the bed.”

“I’m gonna need some lube. Felt like a fucking fist going in…”

He said, his eyes opened wide, “Hey we can try that to!”

I must have looked a bit shocked. He grinned and said, “Er… joke?”

I said, “Er… not funny?”

He said, walking towards his sink, “Dunno what I’ve got… what kind of stuff…?” His cock swayed around in front of him as he walked. It still curved upwards and, from the side, looked even more enormous. It must have been eight or nine inches long. Reasonably thick. He walked around without shame: totally comfortable to be erect in front of another man.

I tried to think of what he might have which we could use. I said, “I dunno… KY or something…”

He hunted around in a cupboard near the sink. “Erm – got some shampoo…”

“Jesus. It’ll sting like hell…”

Then he pulled out some Vaseline. He grinned, “Can’t butt fuck without getting out the Vaseline.”

He took off the lid and started smearing some of it onto his bell end and around the shaft of his cock. His cock head was pulsating. Beads of precum formed at his piss slit. He glanced up at me, smirking. He said, quietly, “Fucking hell. Think I’m gonna cum already…”

I couldn’t believe that his cock was going to be inside my arse in just a few seconds. It looked impossibly large. I wondered how it would feel.

I said, my voice serious, “Look, Ed. If I say stop, you stop. Okay?”

He snapped, “Fucking ‘course I will.”

I felt silly for asking. Like he’d rape me. I changed the topic. “I’ll need some of the Vaseline.”

He passed me the tub. I got some of it on my fingers and moved my hand around to my arse to rub it around my hole. It felt strange – like I was wiping my arse in front of another person.

Then I walked over to the bed and got on it again. Feet on the wooden frame on the edge of the bed, hands supporting me on the mattress. Arse pointing out at him. Like I was squatting to take a crap.

He walked over to stand behind me. He rubbed his hand down my back, along my spine. I shivered.

He moved to my arse and gently touched my hole. His finger pressed against my ring, trying to enter me, but at first my anus seemed unwilling to yield. I forced myself to relax and felt it open. His finger slid into me. He pushed it in as deep as it would go and then wiggled it around. It felt uncomfortable. Sore.

I said, the pain obvious in my voice, “I think I’m gonna need more Vaseline, Ed.”

He withdrew his finger and bent over to pick up the tub of it. He got some on his finger and then returned to my arsehole. This time he was accepted immediately by my anus, like it had made friends with him, and he pushed his way into me again, gently smearing Vaseline into my rectum.

He said, “It’s so fucking hot. Much hotter than a pussy.”

He must have realised how I might have interpreted that because he added, “The temperature, I mean…”

He slowly pushed his finger in and out of my hole. Gently and patiently. He asked, “How does it feel?”

“Okay, I guess. So far.”

He withdrew his finger. He muttered, “Let’s try big brother then.”

He moved into position and I felt the head of his cock against my hole. I thought, “Oh shit. This can’t really be happening…”. I involuntarily tensed up again. Felt my anus close up.

Ed rubbed my back gently again, along the spine between my shoulder blades. It tingled. His finger felt rougher and larger than those of the girls who had touched me there before. He whispered, “You ready?”

I took a deep breath and tried to relax. I felt totally unaroused by this: totally asexual. Like I was having something medical done to me, or a cavity search.

I said, “I dunno…”

He moved his hand upwards and held my shoulder with it. I felt his left hand on my hip, holding my waist. I thought, “Jesus. He’s holding me like a girl. Like I do when I’m about to fuck a girl.”

Then I felt his cock pushing at my hole.

He said softly, “Pretend, like, you’re taking a shit…”

“I’m so fucking tense… that’s not such a hard thing to do…”

He laughed and I think that helped me relax. My arse kind of opened and his cock pushed its way into me. A couple of inches of it slid inside. Like it had earlier. When it hadn’t seemed so serious.

It felt painful. I think the head was inside of me and maybe an inch or so of the stem. He pushed in a bit more. My arse tensed up again and I felt it grip his cock. He inhaled sharply. I guess it must have felt good for him.

I pushed my arse further out towards him, trying to open my hole further.

He said, “Oh yeah. God…” Then he pushed again. Pushed his cock further into me.

I winced, drawing my breath sharply, “Shit. Jesus. It’s so fucking painful…”

He said, concerned, “Do you want me to take it out?”

I really did want him to take it out but since we’d got into this, I wanted to see what it would be like to fuck him. Wanted to see how it would feel. So I humoured him, “No… it’ll be okay… just go… slowly…”

He slowly pulled it out a bit and then pushed back in. He did it again, and then again, each time pushing himself a little further into me.

He said, “It’s so different to fucking a girl. I mean, like, it shouldn’t be called fucking. It’s so different. As different as getting sucked off is to wanking…”

He pushed in a bit further. Instinctively, I felt like I really needed to take a shit. My arse felt so full with his cock inside it.

He said, “I can’t believe I’m actually buttfucking you…”

I said, wincing with the pain of him, “I fucking can. It’s totally easy to believe for me…”

Holding his cock inside me – just holding it inside my arse – he continued, “I mean, we used to joke about this kind of thing. Remember? That guy Whitfield at school. We used to always say he was buttfucking Reynolds.”

I grunted. I remembered it.

“And now I’m doing it to you,” he went on. “I mean, my cock is actually inside your arse…”

I said, “Yeah I noticed. Just fucking get on with it…”

He pushed in again. It felt like his cock was a red hot poker. A thick red hot poker.

He pulled out slightly and it felt cooler. Then he pushed in and it was hot again.

He said, “It’s so good… the feel of it… so tight…”

“Better than a girl?”

“I dunno. It’s so different. It’s incomparable.”

He pushed in again and I felt something rub against the ridge of skin underneath my arsehole. I realised it was his balls. He was inside my arse to the hilt. This was it. I had another guy’s cock all the way inside my arse.

For some reason I thought back to when I was twelve or thirteen years old and I’d first heard about guys fucking other guys. I’d been so disgusted, and yet here I was bending over Ed’s bed – my mate’s bed – having him do the same thing to me.

He started sliding his cock in and out of me. Slowly at first, but gradually gathering speed. Giving me a chance to protest and then, when I just took it, getting a little faster. Within a minute or so, he was developing a fairly moderate rhythm. Not too fast – obviously not wanting to hurt me – but fast enough for his breathing to quicken and for him to keep gasping.

He said, “Fucking hell. I wish you could feel how good this is…”

Still wincing with the rawness of my arse, I said, “In a couple of minutes, I will…”

He didn’t say anything so I went on, “Remember it’s my turn next…”

He didn’t seem particularly worried by the prospect. He just kept fucking me steadily and eventually said, “No worries.”

I wondered, as I felt the rhythm of his cock quicken inside me, whether he had done this before. He had been the one who had got us into an anal sex position when we were messing around. He had been the one who had been so relaxed about the idea of us fucking to have stood drinking his beer with a raging hard-on. Maybe at school he had been quick to accuse other boys of buttfucking because he had been busy doing it himself…

He bent over me and I felt his nipples pressing against my back. His chest felt wet. He was sweating like a labourer. His rhythm quickened further and he made grunting noises in time with his cock. His balls thumped against me each time he thrust his cock into me.

The feel of him and the sounds from him as he pleasured himself inside me made me wonder if this was how my girlfriends had felt while I’d fucked them from behind. Whether they’d just been bent over thinking, “Jeez how long will this take…” Whether my noises had sounded so bestial and whether my movements had felt so mechanical.

Then Ed pulled out of me and staggered over towards the wall. I heard him gasping like he was cumming. I looked over at him and saw he was standing there, his face in his hands and his cock curving upwards pulsating in mid-air. His large, heavy balls hung low beneath it. He was breathing so quickly and so heavily saying, “Oh God… oh God…”

I asked, “You okay?”

He could hardly breathe. He gasped, “Gonna cum… gotta stop myself… oh God…”

I said, “Why?”

He didn’t answer for a few seconds. Just stood there, leaning against the wall, getting his breath back. Then he looked over and smiled. “I’m not ready yet… it’s too soon.”

I said, “Not for me it isn’t…”

“No – seriously. We’ve gotta get the most out of this… this is so good…”

I turned around and sat on the edge of his bed. My arse felt sore and wide open, like it was a gaping red hole. My limp cock poked out from my pubic hair. The shock of being fucked by him had made it look smaller than ever. I felt a bit embarrassed that it looked so insubstantial.

I said, “I’m not really enjoying it…”

“Yeah but you will… it gets better… believe me.”

I stared at him.

He realised what he’d said and so pretended to continue, “I mean, a gay guy told me it does…”

I said, “Have you done this before, Ed?”

“No. ‘Course not.”

I looked down at the carpet and I felt him staring at me. Trying to work out what I was thinking.

I said, “I want to try fucking you.”

His expression didn’t change. He said, impassively, “Yeah. Right. Whatever…”

He bent down to pick up the Vaseline from the tangle of our briefs and socks. While he was rubbing it around his arsehole I looked at our pile of discarded clothes. I thought about how my floor looks when a girl is staying over with me: my briefs tossed aside along with her bra and panties; her underwear smelling of her perfume. The scene here looked so different. Two pairs of guys’ briefs: his with a yellow stain from his piss; mine with curly hairs from my balls stuck in the front of them. Our socks: both pairs smelling of our sweat. There was no romance or sensuality: they looked dirty and raw. The discarded belongings of two men who had stripped off for sex. To assuage their lust, but not their passion.

He finished off rubbing Vaseline into his arse and threw the tub down. He said, “We’re not finished though… I mean, I want another turn at fucking you…”

I noticed his cock was still hard and curving upwards. I saw that the head was slimy: slick with the liquids from my arse.

I said, “Well… I dunno… we’ll see how I feel.”

He smiled. “Okay. Fill ‘er up then.” Then he turned around and bent over, placing his hands against the wall.

I looked at his arse. His cheeks were covered with a fine fur of black hair. His cleft was thick with swirls of curly hair. Like the bush around his cock but confined into a thin line down the middle of his bum.

I stood up and moved over to stand behind him. My cock hung limply between my legs. I wondered if I was going to be able to get it hard enough to be able to cash in my half of the deal.

I said, “Jeez, Ed. There’s so much hair, I dunno if I can find it.”

He reached around and pushed his middle finger into his cleft, about two-thirds of the way down. He said, “It’s here. Awaiting your orders…”

It felt a bit weird to see him do that. For him to show me where to aim so I could get my cock into his arse. It was totally without emotion. Like he was showing me where to aim on a dartboard.

I thought, “I don’t know if I can do this. I mean, he shits through this thing…”

He turned around to look back at me over his shoulder. I think he could see that I was having second thoughts. “Just feel around it. It’s not gonna bite.” Then he grinned and added, “Unless you want it to…”

I smiled at him. My cock was still limp. I thought, “He’s definitely done this before. He’s too relaxed…”

Nevertheless, I kneeled down behind him and pushed my fingers between the cheeks of his arse. It felt hot and wet: very sweaty. I pushed deeper and found an even hotter and wetter area right inside his cleft. His arsehole. I thought, “Jesus – I’m feeling Ed’s shit hole…!”

He said, “Go on. Finger me. You’ll like it.”

I felt around his hole tentatively. It felt sticky from the Vaseline he’d smeared into it.

He said, “It’s not so different from a girl, huh?”

“Well, yeah, but…”

He said, “Go on. Shove your finger in it. Go on.” His voice was urgent. Demanding. He really wanted this.

“Ed. I dunno. I… this feels weird… I mean, it’s your arse…”

He said, like he hadn’t heard me, “Go on. Get in there. Go on, Seb. We had a deal, right?”

He bent further forwards, bending his knees so as to push his arse further towards me. Opening his legs to give me better access to his hole. I saw his balls hanging down between his thighs. Heavy inside his scrotum; hanging down like they were stretching it. Like a couple of small eggs.

I pushed my finger against his hole. Much looser than mine, it immediately opened to allow me to slide in. Again I wondered how many times he’d done this before.

He let out a sigh. “God, yeah….”

And then I pushed my finger into his hot, moist passage. He’d been right: it was totally different from a pussy. Hotter, softer and, inside, more resisting.

I pushed my finger into him as deep as it would go. Right up to my knuckle. Then I gently moved it around inside of him. He gasped. I pulled it out a little and then pushed it back in. He muttered, “God… that’s so fucking good…”

I wondered why my arse hadn’t felt “so fucking good” when he’d fingered me. It had just felt slightly uncomfortable.

I kept fingering his arse, gaining in speed, just as I would finger a girl’s pussy. Gently but with developing rhythm. His arse was so much more responsive, though. It contracted and spasmed around my finger. Like it was trying to draw me in.

He gasped, “Jesus… I gotta wank… this is so fucking good…”

He grabbed his cock and started jerking himself. His Vaseline-smeared hand made slurping noises against it as he beat it rapidly. He kept grunting and sighing and, through his legs, I saw his balls jumping around inside their sac, looking almost comical.

He pushed his arse out further towards me. It was almost in my face. I could smell a thick, anal smell coming from my hand as I fingered him. My knuckles were wet and sticky with the Vaseline and with his bum-sweat.

I was amazed at how much pleasure he was getting. And how different he sounded from girls I’d fingered. No light gasps and stifled whimpers: he was grunting and panting like an animal. Uncontrolled male sounds as raw and uncouth as what I was doing to him.

I think it was this that started getting me hard. His unashamed noises, his elbow looking a blur at his side as he frantically wanked himself, his balls looking so large and heavy as they leapt about between his legs, his arse feeling so hot and smelling so moist. It was all new to me: a masculine side to sex which I’d never experienced and which felt so crude and so primitive.

I drew my face further towards his arse. I could hear the sounds of my finger as it slid in and out of him. I could smell the pungent odour of his hole and of my finger as it pleasured him. My cock rose from where it had been lying between my thighs. I felt my foreskin withdrawing over my bell end as my cock stiffened and lengthened but was unable to take my face away from Ed’s arse to look at it.

I started thrusting my finger into Ed’s hole as roughly and quickly as I could. He let out a long, deep groan in appreciation. He moved his feet further apart on the carpet to open his cleft even further.

I couldn’t really believe what I was doing. Whenever I tried to rationalise it, it seemed too bizarre to be true. This was Ed, my mate of about eight years, standing in front me getting his arse pummelled by my finger. Another guy. Another straight guy. I’d never contemplated that such a thing would happen between us. Never even thought about his arse before. It was just there. Something which made a bulge at the back of his trousers. Something he’d sat on for years at the desk we shared in loads of classes at school. Something I’d seen loads of times when we were in the showers after sport or, through the cotton of his briefs, in the changing rooms. Never thinking about it having a hole. Never thinking that it was a hole which could be penetrated.

And now, here I was, fingering the same hole in the same arse, with Ed grunting and groaning and masturbating in front of me.

My cock was so hard by now.

Without warning him – I knew how much he wanted it – I pulled my finger out of him and promptly stood up behind him. I positioned my cock, my fingers slippery from his arse, and, without a second thought, drove into him.

He shouted, “Fuck… yeah… aah!”

And then, there against the wall in his bedroom and with him bending over in front of me, I pushed my cock right into him. Right up his arse until my balls touched his bumcheeks where they met the tops of his thighs. And I could feel him shuddering as his bowels were so deeply invaded.

Then I started fucking him. Pulling my cock out four or five inches and then driving it back in. As fast as I could. Like a dog.

I loved it. It was so passionless. So devoid of love or romance. Just two guys needing sex and using each others’ arses to get it. Shoving their cocks in parts of each others’ bodies they’d never even thought of before or had been disgusted by. But now tolerating – no, relishing – the sordidity of what they were doing.

I fucked Ed hard. Held onto his waist and thrust into him, driving my hips backwards and forwards with a violence I’d never dared to inflict upon a girl.

He gasped and moaned. He took his hand away from his cock and spread his palms, fingers outstretched, on the wall in front of us. His sweat made marks on the paint.

He cried out, “Jesus fucking Christ… ah… oh God…”

I kept ramming myself into him, aware of how much pleasure I was feeling from my cock as it drove into his hot, wet passage, and – bizarrely – now aware of the pleasure from my own hole, stretched and tender from Ed’s intrusions, tingling and feeling like it was gaping open more than it had before.

He gasped, his face bright red as he bent forwards in front of me, “Fuck… Seb… I gotta… fuck you… again…”

I kept fucking him. I said nothing. By now I was panting. Sweat was running down my face. My balls were banging against the tops of of his thighs.

He said, “Let’s take turns… come on Seb… my turn now…”

I didn’t want to stop. I had to keep fucking his arse. I could still smell it – wafts of it hit me as I stood fucking him – and by now I loved it. The earthy, masculine smell from his arse. Wet and hairy. Sweaty and anal.

He pulled away from me, struggling to stay upright against the wall. His arse made a slurping, farting noise as my cock pulled out from it.

Then he turned to me. His cock jutted outwards, curving upwards into the air, and his bell end throbbed in a red, overtly physical demonstration of his lust.

He said, still panting, “You gotta bend over for me… please…”

I just stared at him. My own cock curved upwards towards his. It looked a similar size. It throbbed like his but looked wetter from his arse.

I realised that my arms were still outstretched and my hands were in mid-air where they’d held onto his hips.

It took me a few seconds to get my breath back.

I said, “What… you wanna take turns… at each other…?”

“Yeah…”

I just stood there. Still breathing heavily. Then, groggily, I smiled. “That sounds… cool.”

He grinned back.

Then I turned around and bent over the bed. In the mood I was in, a totally carnal mood, the mechanistic way we were doing this, pleasuring ourselves in turn, appealed to me. He does me then I do him. I kind of liked the seediness of it.

I felt him get behind me and then his hands on my waist.

Then he pushed his cock into my reddened, widened arse again.

This time, with my cock raging hard and pressing against my stomach as I bent forwards, it felt totally different. There was none of the hot, searing pain of before. None of the wincing or teeth-clenching. It just slid in like it was supposed to be there. Filled my arse up.

I could now understand why Ed had enjoyed it so much. It felt totally different from anything I’d ever experienced. It sent flashes of electricity up my spine, icy needle-like sensations which were scary in their unfamiliarity but so exciting.

My hand went to my cock. The urge to wank was irresistible.

And there, bending over Ed’s bed and receiving his cock in my arse, I gained my first understanding of how my arse can be such a sexual organ. An idea which would previously never have occurred to me.

I said, “Fucking hell… Ed… this is… fucking great…”

I kind of felt him smile. His thrusts stayed constant. My arse was ablaze with sensations from his cock. The rhythm of it, the constant sliding in and out, was overwhelming me.

He said, “Yeah… dunno which is best… taking it… or… giving it…”

And, dimly, I thought again, “He’s done this before…”

 

Part 3 

4th April 2005: I’d always intended that Ed had tricked Sebastian into having sex with him but the long-awaited end of the story was more downbeat than I’d planned. I found I couldn’t make it jokey, as I’d originally intended, as what Ed had done was such a violation.

It must have been close to half past four by the time I pulled on my briefs and staggered across the corridor into the bathroom Ed shared with his flatmates. I needed to take a leak and wash my face before the two of us tried to get some sleep.

I felt exhausted.

I couldn’t believe what Ed and I had done, even though the throbbing from my arsehole and the soreness of my cock told me that it had really happened. We must have fucked each other from every possible angle and in every possible orientation. And for nearly two hours solid.

It just didn’t seem real; I just couldn’t accept that I’d really gone through with having sex with him.

I mean, Ed and I knew each other from way back. We’d been mates since school. We’d dated girls from pretty much the same age; developed crushes on the same female teachers; and now we both had girlfriends, albeit unsatisfactory ones.

So how had we ended up – during my apparently innocuous visit to see Ed at University – taking turns at screwing each other’s arses?

I stared at myself in the mirror above the sink while I waited for the water from the tap to warm up. I looked ashen.

It occurred to me that the beer we’d been drinking might have had something to do with our behaviour. It was an imported brand; pretty strong stuff. We just weren’t used to it; it was as simple as that.

I brightened up momentarily.

But, then, reason crept back in.

Who was I trying to kid?

Guys normally behave like wankers when they get too pissed: they moon out of windows; start fights without provocation and vomit over each other. They don’t start fucking each other like dogs. Not straight guys like Eddie and I.

It just doesn’t happen. The beer wasn’t an excuse.

I got bored waiting for the water to warm up. A splash of cold water on my face might do me good, anyway.

I pushed the plug into the basin and waited for the water fill it up a little.

A guy came into the bathroom behind me.

At first I thought it was Ed, but then I saw that it was one of his flatmates; a short, handsome-looking guy wearing just a pair of loose, baggy boxers.

He grinned at me inexplicably.

I half-smiled back.

He chuckled, “You look knackered… it sounded like you guys were pretty busy in there…”

I think I just gawped at him and blushed. Had we been so loud that the whole flat had heard us?

He must be referring to something else, I told myself. Our drinking, maybe.

I stuttered, “Er… yeah… we… er… got through quite a few cans…”

He looked a little puzzled but kept grinning and walked over to the toilet. He didn’t close the cubicle door, but just pulled out his dick and urinated into the bowl. I noticed that his dick was quite short but very thick and the exposed glans was helmet-shaped.

He looked back over at me. “I thought you guys were gonna go on all night…”

Again, I felt myself blush. I turned off the tap and splashed some water across my face to hide it. He couldn’t be referring to the two of us having sex, could he? I mean, Ed’s flatmates must know he’s straight; surely they wouldn’t be so casual about him and another guy taking turns at each other’s arses for half the night, would they?

I muttered, “Yeah… er… sorry if we kept you awake…”

He grinned more broadly. “No problem, mate. Just invite me to join in with you guys, next time…”

I shrugged, “Er… what do you mean?”

He laughed. “Well… you know… most of us in this flat kind of think ‘two’s company’ but ‘three’s even better’… know what I mean…?”

I guess I just stared at him like a fish, wondering what the hell he could be referring to if not the fact that Ed and I had been having sex.

He finished off pissing and shook his cock a couple of times, spraying the last few dribbles into the bowl. “Where did you guys meet, then? ‘Gales?”

I didn’t know what he meant; I was feeling like I must look totally square at becoming bewildered by his apparently straightforward comments. “’Gales?”

“Yeah… you know… Nightingales… in town…”

I shrugged. “I’m not from around here, actually. I’m here visiting Ed…”

He looked surprised. “Oh right… are you guys mates from school, then?”

“Yeah… I’ve known Ed for years…”

He nodded. “I didn’t realise… right… it’s nice you guys have kept it going, then…”

I knew I was just staring at him gormlessly, but I couldn’t think of anything to say. My mind was churning up possible non-sexual explanations about what was going on here only to dismiss them as ridiculous before trawling up something else.

I muttered, “Yeah… I guess…”

He walked back over to the bathroom door and then turned back to say, “You know what I said about us joining in with each other and stuff… that was just a joke… you know… I just didn’t realise you and Ed were… you know…”

He obviously thought I did know because he smiled, threw me a thumbs-up and left the bathroom.

I just stared at the back of the closed door, still trying to figure out what was going on.

When I got back into Ed’s room, I was almost knocked over by the smell from our sex. I suppose I must have grown accustomed to as it had developed earlier, but now the whole room seemed to be filled with its thick, cloying odour. Two hours of having our backsides penetrated had given the air a pungeant, anal hum and behind that, much less intrusive, was the sharper tang from our cocks and our cum. The smell of the aftermath of gay sex, I thought; or, at least, gay sex the way Ed and I had done it.

I started saying, “Jesus… Ed –” but stopped when I saw that Ed had collapsed on his bed, still naked, and was asleep. His cock, with milky brown semen drying on its tip, flopped heavily on his thigh and his large balls sagged down between his half-open legs.

I walked across the room and opened the window. The room urgently needed some fresh air.

After I’d put the light out and got into my sleeping bag, I lay for a while watching the wall next to me become slowly lighter in the growing dawn and listening to the birds outside becoming increasingly noisy.

I was thinking of what Ed and I had done; whether we would be able to be comfortable around each other after this. And what the guy in the bathroom had said; what exactly he could have meant.

I decided, as sleep was finally beginning to draw close, that I’d try to act normally with Ed the following morning. I couldn’t pretend that nothing had happened, but I could make out it was no big deal to me.

But then I started wondering: why was it a big deal to me? Did it really have to be? I mean, we’d both known what we were doing and had agreed from the outset that we’d simply experiment with one another as two close friends. Maybe I shouldn’t be feeling so… I dunno… not ‘ashamed’, exactly… but… well, maybe ‘incredulous’… yeah… maybe I shouldn’t be feeling so incredulous about what we’d done.

Maybe I should just accept what had happened and forget about it, as though having sex with Ed would have as little impact on our friendship as the couple of times we’d done sexual stuff when we’d been at school.

It would be hard but, after talked about ordinary stuff for a while, we’d soon put it past us. It wasn’t as if gay sex was some unthinkable social taboo – I’d seen guys having sex before and I knew Ed had – and our friendship was strong enough to survive a single night of horseplay getting out of hand.

After a half hour, I was starting to feel more relaxed about it; relaxed enough to get some sleep, anyhow.

I thought blearily about the stuff that the guy in the bathroom had been whittering on about and decided he’d probably just been trying to wind me up. He’d probably heard a few noises from Ed’s room and was seeing what he could find out to tell Ed’s mates the next day.

The jokes and comments from that direction would be for Ed to sort out.

I pulled something out of my rucksack – a sweatshirt or something – to cover my head and block out the growing noise and light.

Then I must have fallen asleep.

***

Any hope of talking about ordinary stuff with Ed the next morning was ruled out as soon as I awoke.

He must have been bending to pull on a pair of briefs when he let out a loud fart.

I opened my eyes narrowly and croaked, “Jesus, Ed… you’ve got a fucking guest, man…”

Ed grinned at me, pulling his briefs up his thighs with his large cock swinging around. “Sorry, mate. I was gonna leave you to sleep for a while…”

“Your… er.. dawn chorus kind of spoilt that…”

He laughed. “It’s your fault… your dick must have loosened it up… normally I’m pretty good at controlling myself…”

And I winced, thinking, “He’s not gonna let me forget about last night…”

Ed must have seen my expression because he said, “Come on, Seb… it wasn’t that bad, was it?”

I shook my head. “It’s not that… I just can’t believe we did it, to be honest…”

Ed finished tucking himself into his briefs. “Yeah… it was pretty good, though, wasn’t it? I mean, you did enjoy it…?”

I shrugged. “I dunno… yeah, I guess…”

Ed chuckled. “Come on… you could try to sound a bit more enthusiastic… I was hoping you might be up for a repeat performance…”

That made me sit up in my sleeping bag. “I don’t think so, Ed. It was a one-off, okay… we both got pissed and messed around a bit… end of story…”

Ed shrugged. “Whatever. But you’re not gonna get all funny on me, are you?”

“No… of course not. It’s no big deal, really. But that’s the end of it, okay?”

Ed looked a little pissed off. “Yeah, okay. I get the message…”

He muttered something about taking a shower and headed out of the room.

I got out of my sleeping bag, thinking that his behaviour was a little odd.

Had he been hoping that we would start having sex regularly? It seemed absurd: apart from the fact that we’d agreed from the outset that last night would simply be a chance for us to try a few things we normally wouldn’t, we were both straight. And yet now here he was acting like a rejected lover.

I pulled on a teeshirt and, intending to go into the shared kitchen to make a coffee, glanced at myself in the mirror on Ed’s desk to make sure I didn’t look too dishevelled.

That’s when I noticed the scrunched-up note on his desk.

I only looked at it because I knew it hadn’t been there the night before: I don’t normally sneak a look at other people’s stuff. But I was sure that when we’d got in and put the cans on Ed’s desk, there’d been nothing on it. That’s what had made me curious.

I almost didn’t read it when I saw it had been written by Catherine, Ed’s girlfriend. I kind of wish, in a way, that I hadn’t.

But the first line caught my attention. It read: “Came round at 10 as planned.”

It was only when I read that that I remembered she’d arranged to come around; she’d done it the night before when Ed and I had been in the pub with her and Shannon.

And then I remembered that Ed and I had planned to be pretending to have sex when she turned up. That was what had started us messing around together.

I glanced at the clock. It was now almost one in the afternoon. She must have been around three hours ago while we were both dead to the world and left the note for Ed to find.

Intrigued, I read on: “Looks like you owe me one! Call me sometime. Catherine”

There were many explanations as to what the note could have meant but, coupled with Ed’s odd behaviour that morning and the conversation with the guy in the bathroom in the middle of the night, it started to dawn on me what I’d got myself into.

I didn’t know who Catherine was, but she sure as hell wasn’t Ed’s girlfriend. In fact, it looked like there hadn’t been many of those since he’d left school.

I stumbled out of Ed’s room into the corridor and found my way to the shared kitchen to make myself a coffee before I got the hell out of there.

A few guys were in it, watching TV and making breakfast.

They glanced over at me as I walked into the room and then did a double-take and looked me up and down when they saw I was a stranger wearing only his underwear.

I muttered, “I wanna make some coffee, if that’s okay with you guys…” I recognised one of the guys watching TV to be the one I met in the bathroom during the night.

The guy making breakfast smiled at me and offered to make me a cup. He sounded camp.

He said, “You staying with Ed?”

“Yeah.”

He chuckled and said, “Funny… he doesn’t normally go for blonds…”

The guy from the bathroom interrupted him. “Pete… this guy has known Ed… you know… long-term…”

The guy making breakfast dropped his smile instantly; like he’d made a terrible blunder. “Oh, er, right… sorry… I just meant… you know… it was just a joke…”

I shrugged. “Yeah… whatever…” I just wanted to get some caffeine inside me to wake me up and then get the fuck out of the flat. Out of Birmingham.

This was becoming really embarrassing.

When I got back to Ed’s room, Ed was out of the shower and getting dried.

He nodded curtly at me and then looked away from me, like I’d been the one to have upset him.

I didn’t know what to say so I think I must have just stood there, staring at him drying himself.

He muttered, “You’d better take a shower…”

I said, “I’ll get one when I get home… I’d better get going, Ed.”

He stopped drying himself and looked at me, puzzled. “I thought you were staying for the weekend…”

“I was, but I decided to go…”

“If it’s about last night…”

I shook my head. “It’s about the note on your desk…”

He looked over at it and then looked back at me. “So Catherine came round… what’s the problem with that… and why are you looking through my stuff…?”

I smiled grimly. “Don’t try and take the moral high-ground… I know what you did… I’m not fucking stupid…”

Ed looked shocked. “What?”

“The guys in your flat treat me like I’m your latest shag… and they’re not too surprised that I’m a guy…”

Ed started to look pale. “So they heard a few noises… they’re just messing around…”

“Come on, Ed. You set me up. Don’t treat me like I’m thick or something… at least do me that courtesy…”

Ed went quiet.

I started getting dressed.

Eventually he said, “Okay… so I pulled a bit of stunt…”

I looked at him fiercely. “I don’t call tricking me into having sex with you ‘a bit of a stunt’.”

“You enjoyed it! You fucking loved it!”

I felt so angry I almost wanted to punch him. I don’t often get like that but I did then.

But I controlled myself. Paused to gather my thoughts, even though my mind was reeling, and then said, trying to sound calm, “Yeah, I enjoyed it. But only ‘cause I thought we were just messing around…”

“We were!”

“Except that it wasn’t your first time, was it, Ed…?”

He shrugged, wrapping his towel around him. “Okay, so I’m gay. So you’re gonna hate me for that…?”

Again I felt angry at the way he was twisting everything to turn it against me. “Of course not. I just think you could have found a better way of telling me…”

I pulled on my jacket and threw the rest of my things into my rucksack.

He tried: “But we had a good time together…”

Halfway to the door, I turned and said, “You really don’t get it, Ed, do you? If you’d have said you were gay, I’d have come up and we could have talked about it. Maybe we could have even tried some stuff, I dunno… But to set things up like you did… just to get me into bed… don’t you realise how it makes me feel?”

“I didn’t know how to tell you that I’m gay… it was Catherine’s idea, partly…”

“Who the fuck is she, anyway?”

He shrugged. “A friend…”

“Well, I hope she’s a good one… to make up for the one you just lost…”

And I walked out of his room. I knew that I stunk, and my arse and my dick were both as sore as hell, but I couldn’t bear to stay in the flat any longer to clean myself up.

I just wanted to get onto the train back to Southampton.

Walking to the station, I vowed to myself that I’d never do anything sexual with another guy again. I felt cheapened by having had sex with Ed; I felt used and dirty.

But then, as the train pulled out from Birmingham and we got out into the West Midlands countryside, I started thinking about how much I’d enjoyed what Ed and I had done and how I shouldn’t let the circumstances we’d done it in prejudice me. After all, it had felt pretty good having him inside me and, although my arsehole throbbed like someone had stuck a hot poker up it, the idea of trying it again with someone else – on my own terms of course – was quite appealing. And the thought of having another guy’s arse swallowing my cock was also kind of interesting: it had been, as Ed had pointed out, totally different from sex with a girl.

So by the time I got back to Southampton I was feeling a lot better about myself. Although I knew I wouldn’t be actively seeking it, I suspected that, if ever a situation came up where I could have sex with another guy without tricks or deception, I’d probably take it.

As I was getting off the train, a cute-looking girl disembarking the adjoining carriage glanced at me. I smiled at her; gave her a dose of one of my best cheeky-boy smirks. She smiled back and I noticed that she checked out my package and my butt as I walked past her.

I found it quite funny that she was checking out the bulge of a cock that was still swollen from spending half the night buggering another guy, and a butt that felt like it had a hole in it the size of my jacket sleeve from being similarly mistreated.

I wondered how she’d feel if she knew: whether she’d feel irritated that I’d thrown her a teasing smile or whether she’d be intrigued by my apparent unobtainability.

It was a new and interesting sensation to feel that my sexuality might be more ambiguous than I’d suspected. To feel that, although I look and act like any other straight guy, there might be more to me than just that…

But I never spoke to Ed again. I found it impossible to forgive him; I still do, actually.

I got a letter from him a couple of weeks after my visit, droning on about how difficult it had been for him to come to terms with his sexuality and how he’d hoped that by drawing me into having sex with him we might become lovers as well as friends. He knew now it had all been a terrible thing to do and begged me to forgive him. Et cetera.

I told myself I’d phone him or write when I found time but I never did. And there’s no way I would now.

So even though I like what Ed did for me, in terms of helping me to ask a few questions about the flexibility of my own sexuality, I just can’t ever excuse him for the way he did it. What happened could so easily have had the opposite effect than it did and driven me towards intolerance of not just Ed himself, but of everything associated with his sexuality.

I hope he didn’t try messing around with anyone else.

 

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