Brorotica Vol.1 E-Book

Guy New York

• Herausgeber: QNY
• Kategorie: Erotik
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2017

Beschreibung

Sometimes being super straight is a little gay.

Brorotica is a collection of five short stories about straight men who find themselves drawn to each other in unexpected ways. From a football game to the boardroom, each story explores what often goes on in typically masculine spaces.

In the story Brotastic a friend asks his buddy a simple question: what's it like to be with a dude? Luckily it doesn't take much for him to find out.

In Branding 101 we follow a marketing director who is frustrated with his company's inability to present themselves professionally. When he gets called into his bosses office for a scolding, he turns the tables around and shows him what it really takes to succeed.

In Beer Pong, two young men find themselves in Hoboken with a couple of girls who know how to push their boundaries. As they try to impress their new friends, the boys get closer and closer until they pass everyone's expectations.

Football brings two buddies together for some afternoon fun in the park. But when they head back home for some beers, it turns out that one of them has a bit of a crush on the other's wife. To complicated matters, they throw on a porn movie and discover that jealousy and desire make good bedfellows.

And finally, A Letter finds our narrator writing to an old friend about an afternoon they shared years ago. A hot shower, a cold rain, and unspoken desires lead to something neither of them can forget.

Each story contains explicit sex and intended for an adult audience. The book is 10,000 words long.
 

Leseprobe

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YOURS,PRONOUN¶

BROROTICA VOL.1

Five Stories of Straight Men and Gay Sex

Guy New York

QNY

Thank you for reading. If you enjoy this book, please leave a review or connect with the author.

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Copyright © 2017 by Guy New York

Published by QNY

Cover design by Guy New York

Interior design by Pronoun

Distribution by Pronoun

ISBN: 9781537881348

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Brotastic

Branding 101:

Beer Pong

Football

A Letter

About The Author

More by Guy New York

BROTASTIC

~

“Duuuude,” he said slurring his words just the right amount.

“Wuuzup?” I asked, dating myself by inflection.

“Have you, like, ever sucked cock?”

“Sure,” I said a bit more soberly. That question meant more than “have you ever” and we both knew it. I let him keep going.

“Did you like it? I mean, was it gross?”

“It’s awesome. As long as you want to be doing it.”

A part of me wondered if he would ask me just like that. He was one of the most brotastic friends I had, and I loved him for it. Fuck it, I thought. Let’s keep going.

“You thinking about getting some dick?” I asked.

He blushed and chugged the second half of his beer in one gulp. He didn’t say anything, but his head nodded back and forth, and I wasn’t sure he knew he was doing it.

“So gay,” I said.

“Dude, I’m just asking...”

“I’m fucking with you, bro. I think you should.”

“I don’t even know where to go. Or, like, who to talk to. Or if I’d be any good at it.”

“Just ask, man. I’ll say yes.” Fuck, was that too forward?

He opened another beer and gave me a look that was half threatening and half turned on. Shit. He might actually do it. He looked down and then up again with his eyes wide. He moved closer to me on the couch, and his breath was so fast I almost got him a paper bag.

“You promise you’ll say yes?”

“Fuck yeah,” I said too quickly. He looked at me for a while longer and then closed his eyes.

“Can I suck your cock?”

I almost burst out of my jeans when he asked, but there was something I had to do.

“On one condition.”

“Dude! You didn’t say anything about conditions. You fucking promised.”

I moved closer to him and undid my belt. Before he could say anything, I had his hand on my cock. He moaned as he felt me harden beneath his fingers. When he finally pulled me out of my jeans, I thought he might freak out. Instead, he leaned closer and stared at my cock with his eyes wide.

“You have to kiss me. Not before and not after. Sometime in the middle, you have to kiss me.”

I thought he might protest. I thought he might say anything at all. Instead, he leaned forward and took as much as he could into his mouth, his hand still wrapped around me. He gagged for a minute and then pulled up until just the head of my cock was between his lips. He licked and sucked, slowly sliding his hand up and down my length, and his enthusiasm was overwhelming. He kissed the head before taking me again, and this time he didn’t choke at all. He moved faster and faster, sucking and squeezing me harder each time. I grabbed his hair and tried not to moan.

Just when I thought I might come, he stopped and pulled me down to him without pause. He grabbed my hair, bit my lip, and then thrust his tongue into my mouth. He was quick and rough, but his hand never stopped, and he kissed me far longer than expected.

My moans got louder and deeper, and he took me back into his mouth before I knew what was happening. I told him I was close. I think I told him he could stop, but I know I didn’t pull him off me. He grabbed the base of my cock as he sucked harder, and suddenly I was coming in his mouth. Still, he didn’t stop. He kept right on going, swallowing what he could, and he never once let go of me. I came over and over again as I pulled his hair and screamed out, and when I finally stopped shaking, he pulled his mouth off me with a loud pop.

He turned and looked up at me with the biggest smile I have ever seen. His grin was contagious, and I let myself laugh out loud with release. He leaned his head on my thigh as he stretched out on the couch.

“That was totally gay,” he said.

BRANDING 101:

~

“BRANDING ISN’T JUST ABOUT BEAUTIFUL pictures. If you don’t know have a reasonable goal of where you want the company to be in five years, and you don’t have the right amount of financial and physical support behind that goal, then you’re going to fail. Branding is a part of that plan, along with overall promotion. Right now we’re putting less than two percent of an undefined sales goal into growth, and it’s just not going to work. So, don’t tell me that marketing is bullshit until you know how you’re going to move this company ahead.”

My talk was followed by a predictable silence. After two years of working my ass off, I felt like I was trying to turn around the Titanic.

“Well, Ben, thanks for the enlightening talk once again. Let’s reconnect next week everybody and go over our sales sheets for the quarter. Until then, back to work. And Ben, in my office in ten.”

We picked up our phones and notepads, and I swear I saw people shaking their heads at me as we walked back to our cubicles. They looked tired and bored at the same time. They were a giant fucking mess. Half of the guys in the room hadn’t even bothered to iron their shirts, let alone put on a tie. They were there to do their jobs and nothing else. And by nothing I else, I mean nothing at all.

Even the president of the company had no idea what he was doing. He thought a few pep talks, a better sales strategy, and getting ourselves on “the Twitter” was going to be enough. He could sell your grandmother a skateboard, but long-term thinking meant next quarter. He had as much vision as Helen Keller, but half her charm.

When I knocked on his office, I only had one thought in my head: something has to change.

“Ben, sit down on the couch. Take your jacket off if you want. We need to talk.”

I felt like I was about to get dumped by my sixth-grade girlfriend.

“Look, I appreciate your enthusiasm, but you need to get back to what we hired you to do.”

“Build a Facebook fan page and engage our customers through social media?” I had memorized my job description as well as anyone else.

“Social media is just part of your job, but yes. Get us more television exposure, talk to our customers, and keep booking trade shows. All of this branding, marketing, and strategy bullshit is just that: bullshit. Can’t you just do your job like everyone else?”

I looked up at him, and I could hear the snap in my mind. It was a switch that clicked on (or was it off?), and I knew things were either going to get much better or much much worse.

“How much did that suit cost you?” I asked him, trying not to raise my voice.

“I don’t see how that’s relevant...”

“Tell me how much the suit cost,” I interrupted. I pulled the tone of voice out of memory, and just like it had worked on me back in school, I saw him blush with his automatic response.

“Three thousand dollars.”

“And why do you need a three thousand dollar suit?”

“When I walk into a sales meeting they have to know I’m good at what I do. They have to know that I am so fucking good at what I do that I can afford to look like this. They have to feel it.”

“Exactly,” I said as if that explained it all. “Now stand up.”

He gave me a smirk, but he stood up all the same, and I felt a surge of power as I kept on talking.

“Stand in front of your desk.”

“Look, Ben, if this is another of your stupid examples, I think we can skip the show-and-tell and just...”

“Peter, just stand the fuck up before I make you.”

His eyes opened wide, and he stared at me. For a moment I thought I was fired on the spot, but instead, he got up—his hands shaking and his eyes twitching—and walked slowly into the center of the room.

I sat down in his chair and leaned back as I looked at him. His suit was crisp and clean, and his tie was as expensive as his cuff links. He looked good. In fact, he looked better than the company, and I was going to make him understand that one way or another.

“When I see you, I see power. I see a man in a nice suit, and I think, he must know what he’s doing. This is a man who’s been there and done that, and he knows his business better than anything else. He has strong hands, a good hair cut, and polished shoes. He’s got a hot wife somewhere, a big dick, and probably a girlfriend on the side. This is a man who knows what he wants.”

He grinned and nodded his head at me as I talked, but part of his body twitched when I mentioned it. He straightened his stance, pushed back his shoulders and thrust out his chiseled jaw. I had him completely.

“Now, if I put the company where you’d standing what do you think I’d see? If I looked at our graphics, our ads, and our copy, do you think I’d get fucking excited? No, I’d wonder why someone was wasting my time. I’d wonder what kind of asshole thought he had any right to pretend he knew something about my industry, and I’d bet anything that half the competition was balling his wife. You look like a man. This goddamn firm looks like a limp dicked moron that’s not worth my fucking time.”

He stared at me but didn’t say a thing. His face was red, his grin was gone, and I realized I was probably the first person to talk to him like that. He was embarrassed—almost afraid—but most of all I could tell he was excited. The bastard needed someone to stand up to him.

I got up off his chair and walked towards him. He didn’t move a muscle as I circled him twice before pouring myself some whiskey from the decanter on his desk. I took a long sip and let the scotch burn my throat before I sat down next to my drink.

“From now on, I’m going to assume that you’re as shitty as the rest of the company. No matter how you dress or act, I’m going to judge you based on everything else, and right now you look like a pathetic excuse for a business. You look like an old, out of touch waste of space who knows less than nothing about his job.”

The more I yelled at him, the more he shifted where he stood, and the redder his face got. The outline in his pants grew bigger with each obscenity I hurled, and in spite of myself, I was getting excited too. There was something about yelling at this asshole that was turning me on, and he was going to pay for that as well.

I walked right up to him as I called him a useless piece of shit and he was trembling.

“Is this what you need?” I asked in a whisper. “Did you just need a firm hand to remind you of your goddamn job? Your dick is about to burst out of those expensive pants if you’re not careful. Do you like it when I tell you what to do?”

My mouth was right next to his ear, and my knee pressed between his legs.

“Yes,” he finally whispered, his voice quivering.

“Excuse me?” I asked, reaching up and pulling his tie tight around his neck.

“Yes, Sir,” he replied, this time closing his eyes.

“Are you ready to show the world that we know what we’re doing?”

“Yes, Sir,” he replied once again.

I sat back on his desk, and before I knew what I was doing I had one hand on my belt and the other on my hard cock.

“Kneel,” I said to him.

Without a word, he did as he was told, and his eyes were fixated on my hand. He moved towards me, never once looking away or closing his eyes.

“Do you have what it fucking takes?” I growled as he reached me.

He nodded his head, and I thought he might drool. I undid my belt buckle with one hand as the other pulled down my zipper. I had my hard cock out before he could say another word. I felt his breath on me.

“Show me,” I groaned.

When his lips closed around me, I almost screamed. I steadied myself on his desk as my boss pushed his mouth down around my cock until he choked. I dug my fingers into his perfect hair, and he never once looked up as he got to work. He was almost shy as he wrapped his hand around my shaft, but within minutes he was sucking my cock for all he was worth.

“Is that the best you can do? Is that all you can fucking do, you little pussy?” I grunted. “You may as well just shut down now if that’s what you got. Do you want to succeed or not?”

He moved faster and faster, his hand gripping me harder as he struggled to blow me. I took another sip of his scotch as I pushed his head down. Fuck, he was going to make me come if I wasn’t careful.

“Do you have what it takes?” I asked pulling his head up, so he was looking at me.

“I think so,” he said, looking into my eyes.

“You think so?” I asked as I tightened my fist and pulled him up. “Take out your little cock and show me.”

He pulled his zipper down, and for a brief instant, I felt the flesh of his cock against my own. He was hard, and his hand moved quickly up and down his length without pause.

In one quick motion, I was behind him, and his head was pressed against the wood of his desk. The glass of scotch was right in front of his face as I held him, but he never stopped jerking his cock as I pulled his pants down around his knees. I grabbed a jar of hair gel from his desk and opened it with one hand. I scooped out a large amount on two fingers before whispering in his ear again.

“I’ll ask you one more time,” I said. “Do. You. Have. What. It. Takes?”

I was about ready to burst as I pressed the head of my cock against his ass, and I still couldn’t believe what I was doing. He didn’t answer me, even as I stuck my two lubed fingers inside of him. He pushed back against me, and he kept moving his hand as he groaned into the desk. It almost sounded like begging.

“I asked if you had what it takes?”

“Yes, Sir” he finally moaned as I pushed inside him. He stopped moving as I thrust into him, and his voice was shaking and weak as he repeated himself again.

“Yes, Sir, I have what it takes. I promise,” he moaned as I fucked his ass as hard as I could. I dug my fingers into his thighs as I thrust harder, and his moans grew louder as he grabbed hold of his cock once more.

“That’s right, you little bitch,” I said into his ear. “You’re gonna to take it, and you’re gonna show me that you’re worth something. You’re going to get off your lazy ass and make it fucking work, aren’t you?” I asked as I continued to pound him.

“Yes, Sir,” he moaned over and over again, struggling to stand.

He was so fucking tight, and I was fucking him so hard there was no way I was going to last long. He pushed back at me almost as hard as I was pushing into him, and when I reached around and grabbed his cock in my hand, he screamed out.

“You’re going to come all over your carpet as I fuck your ass, aren’t you?”

He could only nod as I took him, and seconds later I was coming inside him as he was letting loose all over the floor. I pushed his face down into the hardwood as I fucked, pushing so deeply inside him I thought he might scream again. I pulled on his hair as I exploded, and I could feel his mess on my fingers as I kept squeezing his cock.

I finally pulled out of him and had my pants back up and zippered before he could move. I picked up the drink with one hand as I continued to hold him down with the other. I polished off what was left before slamming it down on the desk next to his head.

“Things are going to fucking change around here,” I said. “Starting with my budget. Do you understand?”

He just nodded, and when I closed the door behind me, he was still leaning over his desk.

The following morning, I got an office-wide e-mail at nine a.m.

“Full staff meeting at 10:30 this morning. Major changes to be announced.”

I leaned back in my chair, and for the first time, I smiled at the thought of a meeting.

BEER PONG

~

IF YOU WANT TO PLAY beer pong, there is only one place to go: Hoboken, NJ.

I know what you’re thinking but forget it. It’s like beer pong fucking heaven out there, and nothing in the city even comes close. New York is amateur hour when it comes to public drunkenness, and Hoboken is the gods damn king. That’s right bitches. The gods damn king.

Tavi and I headed out there on a Saturday evening with two goals: we were going to get wasted, and we were going to get laid. And you know what’s awesome about Hoboken? Every fucking person in the bar is there for the same two reasons. No one is there to compare flannel shirts, brag about their recent vinyl purchases, or grow ironic mustaches. And no one is there in hopes of seeing some lame ass celebrity from Gossip Girl. In Hoboken, we are the fucking celebrities, and we’re gonna drink you under the table and then make out with your sister. Got it?

We stumbled into out favorite bar around ten p.m., and half the crowd was already hammered. We ordered Bud in bottles (yeah, they don’t even sell PBR) and put our names on the board. We pounded our beers pretty quickly and ordered another round before it was our turn. Surely enough we were suddenly teamed up with two girls who looked like they had just come from a Nascar event. They were hot, drunk, and happy.

“Okay, boys, you get the pitchers, and we’ll set up the cups.”

Tavi ordered the beer while I stayed and talked, and within a half hour, we were all best friends. Brittney and Tara were roommates in some school we had never heard of, and they grew up somewhere I don’t remember. They studied fashion (or maybe communications?), and they finished each other’s sentences. They pounded their beers when they had to, they laughed at our dumb jokes, and they thoroughly kicked our asses. We played three rounds, and by the end of it, it was clear who was professional and who was just there for the beer.

“You two kinda suck,” Brittney said as we all grabbed a table after round three.

“Yeah, well, if we hadn’t drunk so much this morning we would have been better,” Tavi told them.

“Tell me about it,” Tara interrupted. “Britt and I started with Bloody Mary’s at like noon, and we haven’t eaten a damn thing all day. Normally we would have seriously destroyed you.”

“You know, beer pong just isn’t our game,” I said with my best smile. “I think Tavi and I were made for other things. If you know what I mean.”

“Nope. We have no clue,” one of them said as we polished off the last pitcher of beer.

We kept talking, and we kept drinking as the bar got louder, and somewhere in the middle, a chicken fight broke out between two topless girls on the shoulders of frat boys.

“Those guys are douches,” Brittney said as we all turned to watch. “Do you guys want to come chill at our place? It’s like, just around the corner.”

Tavi and I didn’t have to say a word to each other, and before the fight had even started the four of us were out the door singing the girls’ college song at the top of our lungs. Not that we knew the words.

Their place was, in fact, right around the corner, and I felt like I was back in college. There were posters on the wall in the living room, empty pizza boxes on the counter, and their fridge was full of beer, coconut water, and batteries. These girls were insane, and I loved it.

Tavi and I sat on the couch while they did five minutes clean job, and before we knew it, they had handed us more beer. They shared a chair right in front of us, and they whispered back and forth as they nodded at us. It was exactly where we had planned on being, and just what we had wanted to do. Beer? Check. Hot girls? Check. Done and done.

Tara broke our little day dream with a question.

“So, you guys have seen American Pie, right?”

“Yeah, we’ve seen ‘em all,” I replied.

“So, you know when they break into that girl’s room, and the girls are like ‘we’ll do to each other whatever you guys do?’”

“Um, yeah?” Tavi replied. This wasn’t exactly what was supposed to happen.

“Well, how about it? I’ll do to Brittney whatever you do to Tavi. And vice versa. Or are you guys big pussies?”

“Anything at all?” I asked them. They smashed their beer cans together and nodded at the same time. They wrapped their arms around each other, and one kiss on the cheek made our decision for us.

“We’re in,” Tavi said without so much as looking at me.

“Dude, are you serious? I mean...” I was trying to whisper, but have you tried to whisper after ten beers? Yeah, it doesn’t work.

“I got it, Bro. Trust me.”

He looked over at them, and there was a challenge in their eyes. He put down his beer and stood up, pulling me up beside him. They imitated him like we were watching a mirror. Well, a mirror where the two of us were hot college girls. Huh, I think I want that mirror.

Anyway, before I knew what was happening, he was standing behind me, and Tara was mimicking him perfectly. I stared at Brittney, and I think she was getting off on my nerves as I tried to figure out what the fuck was going to happen.

Without warning, I felt hands on my shirt as he tugged it off over my head from behind. He was trying not to laugh as he did it, but he was cut short when Tara did the same thing. She dropped Brit’s shirt on the floor next to us and raised an eyebrow. Is that all you got?

He didn’t pause before stepping up next to me and telling me to do him too. I untucked his shirt and unbuttoned it, trying not to touch him as I pulled it off his shoulders and threw it onto the couch.

“This is fun!” Brittney screamed as she pulled her friend’s shirt off and looked back at us. They both had bras on, and they looked good. I mean, their jeans were low enough that we would have seen pubes if they had any, and their tits bounced perfectly every time they laughed. Fuck, we had to figure out what to do next.

“Close your eyes, Bro. I’m gonna take off your pants. Don’t fucking say anything; I have to do this man. There’s no other way.”

I stood perfectly still as he undid my belt and pulled down my zipper. I’m pretty damn sure he knows I go commando, but it didn’t stop him. He tugged them down to my knees before pulling them off my feet with his head turned to one side and his eyes closed.

“No homo,” I joked, pushing him back onto his ass on the floor. He opened his eyes and looked up at me for a long moment of silence. I was buck ass naked in front of him, and my dick was about a foot away from his face. While it may have been cold outside, the site of the two girls in their tiny little bras had given me enough of a semi to feel alright, and I swear he was staring at it.

It wasn’t until Tara knelt in front of Brit and started on her jeans that his head swung back. We watched closely as she pulled them down off her hips and without even asking she pulled Brit’s panties down as well. Fuck, they meant it. If I was free-balling, then so were the girls. Okay, what do you call a girl who goes commando, if not free-ballin? Was she free-pussin? You get the idea.

“Hey, we’re not wearing bras,” Tavi said, his eyes moving back and forth between them and me.

“Fine,” Brit said, and the two girls helped each other out of their pretty Victoria Secrets until we were confronted with four of the best-looking tits in the world.

“Well?” One of the girls said. “Now what?”

I looked over at my buddy, and he looked back at me, this time keeping his eyes on my face rather than my cock. We both knew there was only one thing to do. I got down on my knees and instantly saw Brit do the same. I reached my hands up to his pants and undid the belt, all the while watching the girl next to me.

Without thinking, I grabbed the leather strap in my teeth and tugged on it until it came loose. I looked over at Brit, and she snarled as she copied me perfectly. Her hands were on her roommate’s thighs as she opened her jeans, and it took me a moment to realize I was doing the same thing. Who was copying who now?

We both undid buttons, pulled down zippers, and leaned in closely as we started to slide down the remaining clothes in the room. Somewhere in the middle, I lost eye contact, and all I could see was Tavi looking down at me with confusion and excitement splashed all over his face. I tugged his pants down, pulled off his socks, and before I knew it all four of us were completely naked and one hundred percent silent.

I stood up, and we all looked at each other, our eyes moving up and down, covering every inch of our naked bodies. When I slipped my arm around Tavi’s waist, the girls did the same, and then the game was on. Getting them naked had been the easy party, but now? Fuck.

“I think we can stop playing this game now right?” It was Tavi who spoke first, as he stepped towards them.

“Woah, slow down there cowboy. Don’t you want to see us make out?”

They wrapped their arms around each other and moved their mouths so close that he let out a whimper. Their hands ran down their backs and over their asses, and they ended with smiles that weren’t nice anymore. They were filthy and enticing, and everything had changed.

He turned towards me and before I knew it his hands were on my waist. I took a step closer to him, and for just a second I felt his cock bump against mine. The girls let out moans that made us twitch again, and without thinking, I had my hands on his chest. I turned to look, and sure enough, they were touching each other as well. I twisted one of his nipples, and I heard Brittney scream out in delightful pain.

“What do you want them to do to?” I asked him, our bodies pressed together.

“I don’t know, man,” he whispered. His hands were on my chest as well, but he wasn’t pinching and grabbing. His fingers were soft as they moved over me and one hand was on my cheek before either of us realized it. I watched as one of the girls ran a finger over the other’s lips, and his mouth felt soft beneath my touch. His lips were big, and his face was scratchy, and my heart was beating so fast I thought it might burst.

I went from a nice happy semi to a full on erection as I watched the girls open their legs where they stood. I stared in awe as Brittney’s hand reached out and it took me a minute to realize she was watching us too. Tara and I moaned at the same time as fingers pushed inside her and wrapped around me.

Tavi’s hand was steady as he gripped my cock at the base. He held me firmly before sliding his hand up my shaft until his thumb slipped over the head of my dick. The girls were so close I could smell them, and their moans were almost indistinguishable from our own.

When Tavi and Tara sat down on the couch, Brit reached out and took my hand. I turned ever so slightly as our friends leaned forward, and before I knew what was happening there was a warm mouth around me and a tongue pressing hard against the head of my cock. Without thinking, I pulled him towards me, and he nearly choked as he took me in. The girls were a blur of moans and sighs next to me, but all I could think of was how amazing it was to have my best friend sucking me into his throat with every ounce of concentration he could manage.

It wasn’t long before I pushed him away and knelt on the floor in front of him. Brittney did the same thing, and as I wrapped my hand around him, I watched her part her friend’s thighs before burying her mouth against her open wet cunt.

Tavi was nearly hard when I began, and within seconds he was throbbing. He was moaning and pulling my hair with a gentleness I didn’t know he had.

His fingers brushed my cheek as I wrapped my hand around him, jerking him off like his cock was my own. I licked his head, then rubbed my saliva over it before moving my hand up and down. I gripped him tightly as I blew him, and his moans mixed in with Tara’s as I moved faster and faster.

“Oh, God bro,” he kept muttering as I worked on him, and I wondered what it would be like. What would it be like to make my best friend come and what would it taste like? Could I swallow it, and would I need a beer chaser to finish? Could I look at him again in the morning, and...

My thoughts were cut off as he screamed my name and bucked his hips. I could feel his cock tighten as I pushed down around the base, and I swear I could feel the cum moving up his shaft until it exploded into my mouth. I pulled off so I could breathe, but I was back on him, taking all that I could before a full second had passed. I took his balls in my other hand as I milked his cock, and I sucked, and I swallowed for all I was worth.

His hands never left my head, and he never stopped saying my name. He was gentle and intense at the same time, and it took me a while to realize that the girls had stopped moaning completely. In fact, they didn’t make a sound as he slowly stopped coming, and when I licked his cock clean the silence that followed was so loud, I could hear it.

It wasn’t until I grabbed my beer off the coffee table and knocked it back that they started laughing. But even then it was kind and sweet. Tavi pulled me towards him on the couch, and he didn’t stop until I was lying in his arms with my legs draped over his. He kissed my cheek and whispered thank you as we both looked up at the girls.

Their mouths were open, and their eyes were wide. We could see their chests rise and fall with their breathing, and they went from awe to disbelief and back again.

“That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” one of them said.

Tavi reached over and ran his fingers through my scruffy chin.

“That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever done,” he replied.

And then I was kissing him, and rest of the world just faded away.

FOOTBALL

~

“Run for it!” Trevor shouted as I watched the ball fly over my head.

I tore after it, but no matter how fast I was, there was no way in hell I was going to catch the ball. We had been playing for almost three hours and running was the last thing I needed right then. A beer and a couch sounded more like my speed.

I was panting by the time I stopped, and I picked the football up slowly enough that I could catch my breath. If it were up to Trevor, we’d be playing all day, and while I was in pretty fucking excellent shape, his idea of throwing the ball around always meant me running my ass off while he smacked me on the back and laughed about it.

I walked the ball over to him and picked up my shirt. It was a chilly day, but the sun was out, and we were both sweating within the first twenty minutes. I wiped my face before pulling the shirt down over my strong shoulders. They were the one part of my body I was proud of.

“Dude, I think I’m ready for the beer portion of the afternoon.”

“What, are you getting tired?”

“I am Trevor. I am, in fact, getting tired. Maybe if you knew how to throw the ball in a straight line, it would be easier, but as it is, you throw like I drink: sloppy.”

“Fuck you, bro,” he said, smacking my ass as I bent down to pick up my bag. Nonetheless, he pulled his shirt on and snatched the ball from my hands.

“Let’s just chill at my place. Steph is away all weekend, and I have to finish all the beer in the fridge before she gets back. Don’t want her to think I was a bad boy while she was gone.”

“Oh, and a box full of empties is going to convince her?” I asked as we headed towards the West Side.

His apartment looks over the park. He says he found it on Craigslist, but I have a feeling it had more to do with Stephanie’s daddy than it did with his internet abilities. Either way, it was a nice little haven on the Upper West Side, and I was happy to sit my ass down on his couch and drink a few beers as we looked out the window at the changing leaves.

“Have you seen My Drunk Kitchen? That fucking chick cracks me up,” he said.

I shook my head, and like after every Sunday football game, we ended up on YouTube making each other watch dumb shit. Drunk Kitchen was pretty fun, and of course, it made us keep drinking. We moved from that to fat animals, drugged children, smoking babies, and sisters kissing.

We had polished off the first six-pack when he asked about porn.

“Bro, have you seen the video of the blonde chick in her dorm room with a dildo nailed to the wall?”

“Um, no, Trevor. I have not seen the chick and the wall dildo.”

“Dude, you have to check this out. I mean, don’t take this the wrong way? But she kinda looks like Liz.”

Liz and I had been married for a year and a half, and Trevor mentioned her every chance he got. So, I was only half surprised when he offered to pull up a porno of some chick that reminded him of her. His crush was about as secret as his biceps.

I grabbed a few more beers from the fridge while he struggled to find the video. When he finally pulled it up, he centered the laptop on the coffee table, turned up the volume and leaned back. He opened his beer, took a long sip and then smiled at me.

“You have to fucking watch this.”

The second the video started, I had to admit that he was at least partially correct. She did look a bit like Liz. Well, maybe Liz at nineteen. But there was a resemblance strong enough to make my stomach flutter. We watched her undress as she danced around her room, and then just like he said, she backed her ass up against a big purple cock nailed to the wall.

His eyes were riveted on the screen, and as much as I was drinking my beer, I have to admit it was hot. I could feel myself twitching in my shorts as the girl started moaning louder, and I wondered what it would be like if we were watching Liz. What if I had brought the video over to show him, and what if instead of some random girl, it was her? What if it was my wife, pushing back onto that cock and moaning like a slut, as my best friend and I watched her?

I had to shift on the couch to keep my hard-on from being noticeable, but when I looked over at Trevor, I realized it didn’t matter. His hand was on his cock through his shorts, and he was rock hard. He was moving his palm up and down the length of his shaft, and he never once looked away from the screen.

“Dude, are you thinking about my wife?” I asked, trying to break the tension.

“Bro, I think that might be her. You sure she never made any videos before you met?”

“Trev, that is so not her. It looks a little like her, but trust me. It’s not.”

He looked over at me for just a second, before squeezing his cock and letting out a little moan.

“Well, it looks like you’re enjoying it too. She is so fucking hot,” he said. And without a word of warning he had his cock out and in his hand. He was stroking himself harder and faster with each second, and I tried to keep watching the screen instead.

Fuck it, I finally thought, I may as well enjoy myself too. I finished my beer in one gulp and grabbed my dick. I was harder than I had been all week, and there was no point in stopping. We were so close to each other on the couch that our bodies were nearly touching, and if he hadn’t been left handed our elbows would have been bumping into each other constantly.

“Is that what she looks like, man? I mean, when you’re fucking her from behind.”

I wanted to yell at him and tell him to go fuck himself.

“She doesn’t close her eyes,” I said instead. “She opens them wide, and she looks back at me over her shoulder. Also, her tits are a little bigger, and her hair is longer. And she’s much much louder than that.”

His hand moved faster and faster with each passing minute, but his glances now shifted from the screen over to me. Both our shorts were around our thighs, and our cocks were hard against our stomachs as we watched. Every once in a while one of us would moan out the name Liz, and I stopped trying to pretend we weren’t both thinking about my wife.

I paused for one second, and that was when it happened. I reached my hand up to my mouth for some more natural lubrication, and before I could get back to it, I felt his fingers wrap around me. I looked over at him, but his eyes were glued back to the screen.

“Do me too,” he grunted as he started to jerk me off.

I reached over and took his cock in my hand, and I didn’t care about anything anymore. He was so hard I could feel his heartbeat, and he was fucking good. He squeezed me and held me just how I liked it, and our legs were pressed together as we stroked each other’s dicks on the couch.

“Fuck, man, I want to bang her so bad.”

“The girl in the video or my wife?” I asked. There was no anger in there at all. In fact, we both knew what I wanted him to say.

“Liz. I want to fuck Liz so badly.”

His hand moved faster as he said it, and it was like he was taking out all his desire on me. He kept on moaning, and I kept on encouraging him.

“What do you want to do to her?” I asked him, panting with exertion.

“Oh shit, dude. Everything. I want her mouth and her pussy. I want to kiss those tits and squeeze her ass. I...”

“Call her name,” I said, cutting him off. “Close your eyes and call out her name.”

I don’t know where it came from or why, but the second he shouted Liz my mouth was down around him, and he was bucking up against me. His hand moved instantly to my head, and I struggled to suck his thick cock.

“Oh fuck, Liz. Suck my big dick. Just like that baby. I’ve wanted you for so long.”

He kept going, and the nastier he got the harder I sucked. He described just what he wanted to do to her and it included things we had never done. He wanted to pin her to the wall and wrap her legs around him. He wanted to fuck her ass as she stared into the mirror watching him use her tiny little body. He wanted to come on her lips and cheeks and then hold her down as he fucked her again.

And then he said something worse.

“Oh God Liz. You’re so fucking good. It’s just like New Years. Swallow my cock just like you did then, Liz.”

He held me down as he moaned and he was coming before I could pull away. He was thrusting up into my mouth, and I was swallowing everything I could as he kept on talking.

“Oh fuck, you were so good. You made me come so hard while everyone else was sleeping. Fuck Liz, I love you.”

When he finally slowed down and let me up, I was in a daze. My hair was a mess, the video had ended, and he looked like he was about to pass out. I picked up his beer and drank deeply, trying to wash out mouth.

I had no idea what had just happened, but I knew I was still hard, still excited, and more jealous than I had ever been. Was he just fucking with me? Was he playing along as we watched the movie? What the fuck was he talking about?

When he finally moved it was to pull up his pants and walked down to the bathroom. He grabbed another beer on his return and sat down next to me. He opened it, drank nearly half, and then leaned back with a sheepish grin.

“Um, yeah. So, that happened.”

“What happened?” I asked.

“Dude, you just sucked my cock!”

“Oh, I thought you were talking about the New Years thing.”

“What New Years thing?”

“You know. You said Liz blew you at New Years. At the party.”

“I didn’t fucking say that. Why would I say that? You must have been watching the movie or something while you were sucking my dick. Damn! I can’t believe we just did that. Is this going to be weird or something?”

I looked over at him, and I couldn’t tell if he was fucking with me or didn’t remember. What the hell was I supposed to do?

“So, nothing’s ever happened between you and Liz?”

“The closest I’ve ever gotten to your wife was that porno. Plus, jerking her husband off on my couch. Dude, you are so gay.”

“Oh, I’m gay? Because I sucked your cock? You’re the one who just reached over and started jerking me off.”

“I was just trying to help a brother out. I was being a gentleman.”

I looked at him, and for a minute I thought he was serious. Two seconds later he burst out laughing, and in spite of myself, I laughed right along with him. I drank my beer, he drank his, and we both sat there on the couch without saying a word.

This time it was me who broke the silence.

“Have you ever seen that YouTube video of the swimming sloth?”

“No bro. Pull that shit up.”

So, we did.

A LETTER

~

Dear James,

I learned long ago that letters are supposed to start with a weather report. Well, New York is sunny and warm in a perfect imitation of Autumn. It’s crisp and dry, and people are wearing colors I haven’t seen in a year. They’ve broken out the greens and oranges, and I forgot how much I missed tweed. Do you remember our matching sports coats Sophomore year? We wore those jackets every Friday and girls always asked if we were brothers. Sometimes you even said yes, and we’d laugh at their confusion.

New York is also waking up this fall as if it had been sleeping for the past year. Maybe that’s just me (you know how busy I get), but it’s a good feeling no matter what the truth of it is. I’m still working hard, but Sarah and I have most evenings together and sometimes we get away for a weekend. There are some blessings to not having children, I suppose.

It’s funny how the city still makes me think of you even though you’ve been gone for so long. Bars I’ve been to hundreds of time without you still remind me of the five times were we there together, and the fountain in Washington Square Park feels empty without you. Well, you and Master Lee, but that’s another story. I was at Doc Hollidays the other day, and someone asked about you. I was too embarrassed to say I didn’t know, so I made up a story. I hope you don’t mind. You’re doing well if that helps.

Sometimes I think letters make me daring. Is it because they’re so far removed from all these new forms of communication? They take time to write and time to deliver, and in the middle, it is almost as if I can let go completely. Either way, I can write things to you I could never say in person. Are you nervous yet? You used to cross your legs back and forth when you were worried, and once I tried to hold you still to see what would happen. I had to sit on your lap, and even then you tossed me off and kept on fidgeting up a storm. You know I was only trying to help, but I guess it doesn’t matter anymore.

Anyway, back to daring. That was going to lead to something other than more nostalgia around things you probably don’t remember. What I want to write about is something I’m sure you do remember, even if we never spoke of it. We talked about everything, we shared everything, and yet when something important happened, we pushed it away and ignored it until it was more of a dream than a memory. I realize you may have stopped reading, but I hope you don’t mind if I continue.

It was raining on 15th street. You always had good luck following you around, and for that whole year, you lived in an apartment with the prettiest girl in New York City for next to nothing. The rain used to sound on the skylight in her bathroom, and even in the other rooms, we could hear it. Was it the type of glass or the shape of the window? I think you had an answer, but I don’t remember what it was. All I remember is the sound.

By the time I got to the door, I was soaking wet, and your roommate was in class. Or maybe she was working? Sometimes, I think I’m getting old.

You made me tea and gave me a bathrobe so we could dry my clothes on the radiator. We were so used to running around naked that we didn’t think anything of it, and I held the tea close to my chest so the warmth might run through me. You laughed and told me I looked good with my hair soaking wet. I promised to get caught in the rain more often.

I know that it was you who offered to run a hot shower for me, and I know it was you who turned it on and waited for the water to reach the right temperature. But who suggested you join me? Were we just laughing and smiling or did we know? We had been in hot tubs, saunas, and lakes for most of our lives, so maybe we didn’t think at all. It was chilly, but the water was hot, and when we both climbed in we could hear the rain on the skylight despite the noise of the shower.

You know, I told my wife this story when we first got together. She asked me if yours knew, and I didn’t have an answer for her. Did you ever tell her? Did you ever think about it again? Maybe it was just a dream. Sarah laughed and shook her head as if she hadn’t expected anything else. I wonder what Mina would say.

What I remember most is your hands on my back as you rubbed the soap into my skin. I could feel your calluses from too many hours of picking that guitar, but even they felt good as your massaged my muscles under the falling water. You rubbed my shoulders, and you rubbed my back. You knelt on the floor of the tub and rubbed my thighs and calves, and when you turned me around, I slapped you in the face with my penis. I was half hard, but you laughed and punched my leg, and even then I don’t know if we knew yet. Even then it was just us being silly and nothing had changed. You rubbed my legs and scolded me for not keeping it out of your face, but somewhere along the line, we stopped talking.

And we haven’t spoken since, have we? Sure, we’ve talked and gone drinking. We’ve had phone calls, and you gave a toast at my wedding. But about that? We’ve been silent for so many years that I question my memory all the time. Maybe that’s just part of getting older. We always wonder.

When you touched me, I still wasn’t sure if you were only playing. Your hand was soapy and firm as you wrapped it around me, and you smiled as you moved up and down my cock. I was about to laugh when you opened your mouth. Two seconds later and I would have, and it would have been a story we’d joke about for years to come. Instead, those two seconds never happened, and you took me into your mouth. Did I pull you towards me? Did I push forward? Did I beg for it under the skylight?

There was no laughter as you sucked me, and there were no words. Your hand was strong, and your lips were so full and warm that I had to brace myself against the wall. You looked up at me with your bright green eyes, and I couldn’t make myself think anything at all.

When our lips touched, I could feel you hard against me. We were both covered in soap, and while I remember the kiss, I mostly remember your cock. I remember it touching my stomach and thigh. I remember our bodies moving next to each other, and I remember reaching down and holding us both in one hand. We were almost exactly the same size, and your head was purple while mine looked red. We slipped all over each other, and your kisses got stronger and more fierce with each passing moment.

What were you thinking just then, James? What went through your mind when you kissed me until the skylight in her bathroom?It was New York City in the Spring, and you moved from tender to desperate in seconds.

I didn’t resist when you pushed me onto the edge of the bath and back onto the carpeted floor. The bath was sunk into the room, and the first thing that went through my mind was “who has a carpet in their bathroom?”

You moved your mouth back to my cock, but your hands pushed my legs open, and I’ve never felt so vulnerable. I’ve never felt so exposed, so powerless, and so utterly turned on. You opened my legs like we had both done to so many girls, and without a word, you pushed two soapy fingers inside me. I moaned at the new sensation, and your fingers fucked me as I lay on my back staring up at the rain.

I wanted to say something, and I wanted to scream. Did I want to stop? I don’t know. Everything was too new for me to make up my mind, and so I did what I always do. I let you make all the decisions.

Before I knew it, you were between my legs, and my knees were bent. You kissed me again, but you were distracted by mechanics. You had your cock in one hand, still slick with soap, and you were adjusting yourself on the edge of the bath so you could thrust. I bit my lip as I felt you move me exactly how you needed to, and when I felt you against my ass, I think I screamed. Did I scream, James? Do you remember this at all?

The only sound you made was a grunt and a moan as you struggled to take me. I tried to relax, but it was nearly impossible with the weight of your body against me and your knees pushing my legs open. I kept wondering if this is what it felt like for them, and then suddenly you succeeded. I screamed as you entered me, and you paused for another kiss as I got used to feeling you.

The kiss wasn’t long enough for me, but I don’t blame you. You were as far gone as I was, and when you started to move inside me, you never stopped. You pushed into me until I thought I might split open, and you grunted into my ear as you fucked me. There was never a moment when I thought it was something else, and I wanted it. I wanted to be fucked, and I wanted to be fucked hard. I wanted to know what it was like to receive and to let go, and you gave me just that. You thrust in and out of me faster and faster each time, and I made noises I haven’t made since.

I can’t describe what it felt like having your cock inside me. I can only remember that you were closer to me than you ever had been before. Our bodies were connected, our chests were pounding, and it was completely different from anything else. You were fucking me, and I was lost in space without thought.

I don’t remember how long it lasted. I don’t know how many times you slid in and out of me, but I did try to count. How many strokes was it before you grunted and moaned? How many times did you thrust into me before you came, and how many times did you kiss me?

It’s funny, but when you came, I felt useful. I know that’s not the sexiest word in the world, but I had a moment of satisfaction that’s hard to describe. Maybe I should say I felt used, but that’s not quite right either. You were full of desire and need, and I was there for you. I was there and not only willing but desperate as well. Does that make sense, James? I was able to give you what you needed, and the urgency in you body was amazing.

Maybe what I’m trying to say, is that I felt grateful.

Now I’m worried that I shouldn’t have written, but I’m going to leave it be. It’s a good memory for me, and I hope it is for you too. I know you’re somewhere else in a life that has been taken over by work, and kids, and sometimes I’m envious. I bet you’re still wonderful at everything you do, and I bet your wife smiles when you’re impulsive and shakes her head in knowing understanding.

It’s supposed to rain here tomorrow. Maybe that’s why my mind is drifting? Maybe it was the leaves changing in the park or the last eruption of the fountain before winter freezes it over. Either way, you’re in my mind and thoughts. You come back as vividly as any memory, and I cherish your smile in my mind’s eye.

So, if you need to forgive me for bringing back memories, I hope that you can. I hope you’re well and healthy, and I hope the fall reaches you with comfort and peace. You’ve always been a good friend, and I hope I have been one too.

With warmth and affection,

J.L.F.