Date: Sun, 26 Jan 2003 06:39:52 +0000
From: Buck Jones <hot4red@hotmail.com>
Subject: Red Headed Straight Friend

Standard disclaimer here. If you don't want to read stories of man-on-man
sex, stop now.

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Red Headed Straight Friend


Jon and I had been friends for ages, and were nearly inseparable in the eyes
of our other friends. We hung out together, played hockey and football, and
even ended up working together after highschool.

The entire time he had a girlfriend - the proverbial highschool sweetheart,
and they were married last fall. I had been in and out of relationships, but
there was no doubt that we were both straight guys who just liked hanging
with each other. That all changed last Saturday night.

I had watched Jon grow up from a gangly kid to a man, changing along the
way. The flaming red hair of his youth was replaced with a coppery-auburn
thatch, cut short and flipped at the front. His face had filled in, sporting
a flashy red goatee and impossibly long eye lashes framing his blue eyes.
His shoulders had widened to carry his solid, bulging arms covered in a down
of light red, and the rest of him had grown to the beefy proportions of a
handsome, well-built six footer.

In contrast, I had stopped growing at 5'7", my black hair had only gotten
darker, and my body had stayed at its post-highschool athetic build. Not
bad, but seemingly half the size of the guy I had spent most of my life next
to.

Over the last few months, I found myself staring at bits of him in wonder,
and with a lot of confusion. I couldn't seem to keep my hands out of his
hair - pushing bits of fluff away, or smoothing the wild areas like only
close friends can do. I would be talking to him at work and find myself
immobilized by his eyes, holding on to the long, slow winks of his lashes as
spoke.

In the locker room, I would drift over the tuft of curly red poking out of
the top of his T-shirt, where I knew it covered only a small V at the top of
his chest, then move down past where his damp shirt was plastered to his
abs. I would often eventually come to rest on the sizeable bulge in his
mid-thigh underwear, as he shifted things around, or pulled the hard cup out
of his jock strap.

I knew I didn't do it consciously, and would sidle my eyes away,
embarrassed, when he stood up or wrapped his arms behind his head to
stretch. Sometimes during the stretches I would glance at the matt of dark
red poking out of his T-shirt sleeves, and make some comment about the smell
coming out of those pits. That always brought a shit-eating grin to his
lips, and he'd laughingly pull the ratty shirt sleeve to his pug nose for a
good whiff.

When he walked away from me, I'd take in the tight sway of his ass cheeks
and his narrow hips. I was amazed by the solid, hairless ass and my cock
would spring to life, hoping he would turn around, but not truly knowing
why.

Then last Saturday my confusion and strongly denied lust got the best of me.

We had been playing football on a poorly lit field, and he'd stumbled near
the end of the game, tearing something in his knee and doubling up in pain.
He'd landed full and hard on the bare ground, and I was at his side seconds
later.

We hobbled to my truck, and drove the 5 minutes to his house while he held
his leg out and watched it turn an ugly, swollen purple. Inside I helped him
to the couch.

"Damn," he swore softly, looking at the knee. "I'm not going to be able to
walk for days!"

I looked at the knee, and poked him in the ribs. "Girls shouldn't play
football," I said, grinning. "You're too delicate."

He threw a pillow at me and said "Help me out of my pants, you shit. I can't
do it."

I watched as he pulled the jersey over his head, mussing his hair. "Damn
thing stinks," he said grimacing, and he yanked off the pads and sweaty
T-shirt.

Almost absentmindedly I swirled his hair back into shape, and he scratched
the side of his head against my fingers like a tousled, red puppy. "That
fucking helmet always makes me itch," he laughed.

I grinned and reached out to scratch both sides of his head in the short
stuff above the ears. We stayed like that for a few seconds and I felt my
cock rise at the delighted little yelps he gave when I scratched too hard.

"Let's get you out of those pants before you swell up too much to get them
off," I said as I knelt in front of him.

He grinned. "Swell too much? It's my knee, not my dick, shithead."

"Yeah, right, Long Dong," I shot back, pushing back his cleats where he'd
kicked them off. "Give me your foot, I'll take off the socks."

He stuck one foot on my hip and I rolled the sock down, revealing his strong
calf. I got the second one off and scratched through the curly red hair on
his legs like I did when I pulled my own socks off.

"Oh yeah," he moaned slightly, "fucking itches!" His lips twisted into a
devilish smile through his short goatee while I scratched and I looked up,
noticing the fullness of his red lips. I was shocked that I'd even notice,
but what the hell, I'd been watching his body for months.

He undid the laces at his crotch, trying feebly to stand to get them off.
"I'll do it," I said, "you're a fucking invalid!"

He dropped his arms to the side as I finished the lace, and hooked my
fingers in the waistband to pull his pants down. Football pants are tight,
and they came off with some difficulty, leaving him twisting with laughter
as I fumbled them over his hips and knees, taking his underwear with them.

"Fucking tree trunks," I swore and slapped him on the hip.

"Hey can you look in my eye," Jon said, his smile fading. "I think I've got
something in it."

He furiously blinked one eye, pulling at it with his fingers, and I leaned
in to look. "I'm going to have to fucking baby you, aren't I." I said,
scowling.

I leaned in, prying open his eye with my fingers, when it happened.

Out of the blue, neither of us expecting it, I think, he wrapped his strong
arms around me and pulled me in, his hand meeting the back of my head,
pulling my lips to his. He crushed my smooth chin against the scratchiness
of his goatee.

My eyes bloomed wide, and I pushed against his shoulders as he ground my
mouth to his. I don't know where it came from, but I parted my lips
slightly, pushing my tongue against his, and turning my pushing hands into
holding ones.

He slid his arms around my waist and pulled me to him, burying my face into
his shoulder, and let out a growling sob.

"I'm sorry, man, I have to do this." He said lowly, his mouth breathing hot
directly into my ear. "I fucking love you. I fucking want you. I've seen you
watching me. I get hard every time you touch my hair."

His breath was coming in short rasps, as he rambled, trying to justify what
was happening. "I don't care what happens. I don't want to lose you as a
friend, but I want you to be more."

He tightened his grip around my waist and slid his hands into the top of my
pants, curving them around my ass. "I've dreamed about your body, your lips,
your tight ass."

I was fighting to keep my body from responding as he assaulted me with
words.

"I've seen your dick grow when I walk by in the showers," he said
breathlessly, almost accusingly. "I've jacked off thinking about you, about
how you taste, looking up at me with your pretty mouth on my cock. Thinking
about you thrashing around my bed, with my cock in your ass. Thinking about
how I could love you, about how you could love me."

He stopped, holding his head against mine. "Please, say you love me," he
sighed, and went still.

My mind had been swirling listening to him, but the last few words had
zeroed in, and I buried my head into his neck, running one hand against the
hair on the back of his head, and forcing the other between us to the patch
of hair on his chest, coming to rest on his pec.

"Fuck it," I moaned. "Worry about the consequences later. I love you. I want
you."

He loosened his grip then, the grin returning to his face. I pushed my lips
against his again, forcing his smile away and my tongue down his throat at
the same time. I wanted this.

I slid down his chin, sucking on the tight little hairs of his goatee, down
to his chest and licked his nipples. He tensed as I pulled the pointed nub
into my mouth, and he moaned loudly.

"Oh, God, please," he said.

I could feel his cock hardening between us, and I slid down his abs to lick
at the top of his dark, red bush, sliding my hand between his parting legs
and cupping his balls.

The smile hadn't returned, and he almost hissed "Suck me. Eat my cock. I
want my cock in your mouth, your lips around my balls." He poked his hips at
my mouth.

I looked directly at his solid 8 inches, and laughed. "Easy," I said. "It's
a small mouth."

He grinned then, and I wrapped my hand around his cock, marvelling at the
softness. "Here goes nothing," I thought, facing my first blow job from the
other end.

I licked at the retreating foreskin and drank in the musty sports smell,
slowly parting my lips to welcome the heat of his rod.

His breathing lowered, and he wrapped his hands around my head, pulling my
face into his crotch, pushing his cock to the back of my throat. I must have
gagged, and he mumbled an apology, easing his force.

His cock in my mouth felt like a perfect fit and I struggled to take it all
in; the taste, the feel, the wonderful, heady aroma.

I forced my head up and down, pistoning on his rock hard cock.

He moaned loudly, nearly sobbing. "Suck me, make love to my cock. This is
awesome."

I slipped his cock out of my mouth, and licked his ballsac, stretching my
tongue to the very root. He lifted his good leg to the side and I dove into
his exposed hole, swirling the few sparse, short hairs surrounding it.

He writhed on my tongue and I saw his hard cock twitch as I licked his ass.
"No way," I thought. "I want that fucking cock."

I dove back down on his pole, and sucked it back into my throat, pulling in
my cheeks with fervour, as he drove it in and out.

It was too much for him, and after only minutes he tensed, his body
beginning to tremble, starting at the broad shoulders and I looked up at
him.

That's all it took. His cock buried in my mouth, my eyes staring into his,
he exploded deep into my throat. I swallowed hard, and he jerked again,
spilling cum out of the sides of my mouth, trailing down my chin and into
the deep red of his crotch.

"FUCK! YESSSSSSS." He yelled, grinding his pubes into my face, shaking as
blow after blow of hot man seed filled my mouth. He stopped after five or
six, and fell back against the couch exhausted.

I licked the cum from around my lips, and cleaned off his tender cock,
crawling back up against his body, to share the taste of him with his moist,
panting mouth.

"That was fucking incredible," I sighed. "And I'm so fucking hard." I
squeezed my erection, pushing against the damp spot where I'd leaked a ton
of pre-cum.

He opened his eyes and reached to fondle my cock, forcing a moan out of me.

He looked at me pleadingly. "Feed me your rod. Strip. Face fuck me, and get
loose." Then he grinned. "'Cause I'm going to push this cock into you until
you beg."

He stopped then and stared at his softened, spent dick. "Um, well as soon as
it's dressed and ready to play."

I leaned into his sweet mouth again. This was going to be a damn good night,
and our friendship had gotten better than I could ever imagine.

Comments appreciated: hot4red@hotmail.com