Date: Tue, 4 Nov 2014 17:57:57 -0800 From: James Ivan Subject: The Buddy System THE BUDDY SYSTEM By James Ivan DISCLAIMER - All necessary disclaimers apply. While some pieces of this story are based on real life experiences, it is largely a work of fiction. I love to engage my readers! Please write me after you've finished reading--let's have a dialogue. (I respond to all emails eventually.) Tell me what turned you on (or off), and what you would perhaps like to see in future stories. Tell me if you loved it, liked it, jacked-off to it, shrugged at it, or, if you absolutely hated it, lie to me and say otherwise. Nah, kidding! But seriously. Lie to me. If you like "The Buddy System," please check out my other Nifty contributions: "The Nightwalker Chronicles" in the Sci-Fi/Fantasy section, and "Hunter Sniffs Prey" in Encounters. I will say, however, that my other stories are a bit more graphic than this one. Just be warned. Also, please consider donating to Nifty so that we may all continue to benefit from reading hot gay sex stories! -J The Buddy System In the northern woods of a small Ohio town, the trees grew closer together than anywhere else. The residential property was spread out, allowing for long expansions of uninhabited wilderness. And in the thick of summer (which is when this story takes place), the woods were cooler, for the canopy of leaves filtered out the heavy sunlight. So on this particular afternoon, amidst these northern woods, two boys were found crunching over a patch of dry twigs as they followed a winding creek through the trees. By the look of it, both boys were in the prime of their teenage years. By the smell of it, they were in the height of puberty. The first boy, Jake, took the lead. His summer-bronzed arms were held out steadily at his side as he balanced himself, momentarily, on a log. They were shaped with a lean, youthful muscle--the sign of a maturing male. And just beneath his arms, in the grove of his pits, the emerging silky brown hairs of adulthood were easily observed. The second boy, Nick, scaled the log just behind him. His arms and legs were more slender, but equally as strong. Nick matched Jake in height and weight, although by perception alone, he appeared...smaller. Perhaps it was because Jake had a more domineering personality; perhaps it was because Nick had a more natural sensitivity. Either way, between the two of them, it was clear who the alpha was. Had there been an observer nearby, they might have noticed how both boys were dark-haired and dark-eyed. They might have picked up on the familiar scent of male pheramones that followed the boys wherever the went. And, perhaps more than anything, they might have detected the invisible thread through which both boys were inexplicably linked. It was clear that they were the best of friends, even though, for nearly an hour, not a word was spoken between them. They just hiked, as if it was routine, as if it was simply the thing to do. Nothing needed saying. And nothing was said. It only mattered that they were both there, enjoying the outdoors, and escaping their worlds together. The boys climbed a formation of boulders to an upper level of the forest and began hiking a new territory. When they found level ground, a gentle wind swiveled through the narrow openings in the forest, cooling their hot bodies, and swaying the tallest of trees. "Fuck, that feels good," Jake said. It was the first thing that had been said between them all afternoon. And it was the perfect thing to say. Jake lifted his arms up high, exposing his hairy underarms. The moving air felt good on them, and consequently, the surrounding woods filled with the smell of him. Beside him, Nick wipe the sweat from his brow. His nostrils flared when he caught a whiff of his buddy's scent, but he ignored it. Or, at least, pretended as much. "How far you think we walked?" Jake snorted a laugh. "We're probably over the border by now." "You think?" "Hell if I know, man." He stepped up onto a large rock and turned full circle, as if the two feet of elevation gave him a superior vantage point. "Nah, I think we've gone farther than this before." "Yeah," Nick nodded in agreement. He reached down and adjusted his boy parts (they had been hiking for nearly two hours). Jake watched as Nick situated himself. "Yeah," he said. "Me too." He grabbed a handful of crotch and moved it around until he was more comfortable. The woods were spicy with the scent of birch and thistle. A sweetness drifted in the air--honeysuckle, perhaps--but it was fleeting. The longer they hiked, the more they would sweat and heat up their blood. Soon, the summery smells of the world faded, only to be replaced with the scent of boy. Jake hauked a loogie and spat. "Think your dad will have dinner ready by the time we get back?" Nick asked. Jake shrugged. "Dunno. Probably." He scuffled some dirt. Nick bent down and retrieved a walking stick. It was a sturdy stick, very Gandalfian. He decided to use it for the rest of their hike. "You sleeping over tonight, man?" Jake asked. Nick shrugged. "Sure." They continued. Two explorers, navigating an uncharted world. The cut of their bodies, while still recognizably boyish, aspired to emulate that of men's bodies. For fifteen, both Jake and Nick were filling out fast. Two jocks-in-the-making. Already, their feet were size twelve, their shoulder-span exceeded that of their hips, and their butts had grown into a fully-realized roundness that most boys wouldn't attain for another two years. And beyond that, it was clear by the way they walked that their manhood had developed to almost full capacity. The two of them walked with a sort of swagger. Nothing expressly cocky. It was more for comfort, for alleviation. Coming from broken, low-income homes, both boys sought refuge in each other, and in each other, they found asylum. They had known each other since the first grade, when Nick moved in next door to Jake. Back then, it was immediately clear that they shared a mutual interest in dinosaurs and Legos. Friendship, of course, was the natural result. Back then. For years, Jake and Nick attended the same school and played for the same little league teams. Every Friday night, Nick would spend the night at Jake's house. Every Saturday, Jake would spend the night at Nick's. Their sleepovers (which were always an event) slowly graduated from comic book reading and fort-building to the most epic, all-night video game marathons any boy could dream of. But when the boys turned thirteen, puberty unexpectedly got the better of them. With their testicles having dropped, and their testosterone levels spiked, Jake and Nick found themselves suddenly disinterested in the video games they played. A new seed was sprouting in their brain, and it was very, very persuasive. "Dude, did you hear about the porno site Eddy was talking about at school today?" Jake said one Friday night as they sat on his bed, watching late night cartoons. Nick hadn't heard. At least, not that he could remember. He shook his head, but a fire burst inside his stomach, and it was difficult to control. "It's called DragonMoonX," Jake said. The words spilled from his lips, like honey. Nick found them delightfully sweet. "Dude, Nick, you wanna check it out?" "Yeah," Nick heard himself say. "Can we use your dad's computer?" He whispered conspiratorially, feeling a sudden rush of heat in his groin, a flutter in his belly. "Can we?" And so that night, at nearly two in the morning, Jake and Nick found themselves holed-up in the computer room, clicking, gawping, salivating over the verboten images that peppered the screen. Naked women and naked men, participating in the most unseemly, yet most enthralling, acts. Jake and Nick stared at the various shades of flesh for hours. And ever since, their world hasn't been the same. From there on out, sleepovers didn't involve much sleep. Jake and Nick--partners in crime--would spend their nights scrolling through the online catacombs of breasts and vaginas and penises and butts. Their sexual education was as prolific as their ability to pop a boner. And that's how they spent their Friday and Saturday nights with each other--hard as rocks. In the weeks following their fourteenth birthday (they were born three days apart), Jake and Nick's friendship found the next level of intimacy. The moment it happened, the boys were walking back from a baseball game. Home was a couple miles off, and the sun was beginning to set. As they scuffled along the Old Country road--their uniforms filthy with sweat and diamond dust--Jake gave Nick the cue to "slow up some." They eventually came to a full stop, where he turned toward the cornfield, undid his trousers, pulled off his cup, and began to piss. "Needed to take a leak since the fifth inning," Jake said, sighing with prolonged gratification as he released a healthy stream into the cornfield's soil. Nick, who up until then had never seen his buddy's penis, felt his heart suddenly quicken. He stared down at Jake's boyness, half-shocked and half-thrilled by the sight of it. It remained, however, that only the tip of Jake's penis was visible. With the sunlight dwindling, and with Jake's hand covering the bulk of it, Nick didn't catch a full glimpse. It was, Nick always remembered, a devestating disappointment. Even after all the times they've changed together in the locker rooms at baseball practice and school, Nick never saw his buddy's private parts. Nothing passed their briefs ever came off. But there, on the Old Country road, for the first time, a new part of Jake was revealed. Without knowing it, Nick was smiling. The thought of Jake's penis never really crossed Nick's mind before then. Sure, they were both going through sexual maturity together, and the contemplation of each other's sexuality was a natural thing. Their voices were cracking multiple times a day, they were growing hair in inextricable places, they smelled funny, but at least they had each other. At least they had a buddy to share puberty with. It was a difficult time, and the two of them clung to each other like brothers. They would talk about their bodies, about their dicks, about the hair growing in their pits. They started to share clothes. Between both their miserable, down-trodden fathers, they seldom had the chance, or the funds, to buy new clothes and shoes. So Jake and Nick wore each other's stuff--even underwear. They were never disgusted to share underwear, or socks, or shoes, or deodorant. In fact, they shared each others' cups! It didn't matter whose was whose. Just take one of the two cups and slap it on. Oh well, we're buds! Who gives a shit if it touched your junk. That was always the mentality. But Jake and Nick, both, were moving into heterosexuality, and their focus, mainly, was on the female form. It seemed, though, that Nick was excited by any form of sex when it was plainly presented to him. Just the sight of his buddy's dick sent a surge of blood into his own, and there, in his baseball cup, he swelled up large and fat. Nick winced as his cup became, suddenly, full. He reached down into his trousers and pulled it off. "Gotta pee, too," he told Jake, as an excuse as to why he was fiddling with his groin. And so Nick tossed his bat and glove aside, turned to face the cornfield, and managed to match his buddy's stream. Together, Jake and Nick pissed, re-clothed their boyhood, and made the rest of the journey home. It was a Saturday, and they were staying the night at Nick's house. When they walked in that night, Nick's dad was passed out, drunk, on the living room sofa. It was routine, it was familiar. He rolled his eyes, shrugged, and then disappeared into his bedroom with Jake. "My dad's all kinds of fucked up," Nick said, hanging his ballcap on the headboard of his bed and pulling off his shirt. "I know what ya mean, man," Jake echoed. He, too, began to undress. They tossed their uniforms in the same pile of dirty clothes (Nick would do laundry later in the week) and unloaded their game gear in the corner of the room. Within seconds, both boys were stripped down to their briefs, which were lined with the sweat of their groins. "You wanna shower off first?" Nick asked. It was common for them to shower at each others' house. They shared pretty much everything, with the exception of their toothbrushes (they kept a spare at both houses), so there was never any need to pack a bag of clothes or toiletries. They found home in either place. "Yeah." Jake started for the bathroom door. From his bedroom, Nick had access to the hall bath, which was double-doored (the hall door remained, always, locked). Next to his computer desk, he kept a small mini-fridge, which he bought for a low price at a garage sale the previous year, and which always remained generously stocked with teenager food (aka, bagels, cream cheese, ice cream, pizza bites, pop-tarts)--a toaster-oven sat atop the mini-fridge. It was like having his own apartment, so they rarely wandered into the rest of the house. Unless, of course, they were SUPER hungry, which in that case, the boys raided the kitchen pantries for all they were worth (which was little). And it was there , in Nick's bedroom, where their friendship took its first steps into more intimate territory. With no reservation, Jake slid his briefs off his waist and kicked them into the pile of dirty clothes. His penis and testicles flopped down between his legs and dangled there, unmistakably, with considerable weight. He scratched an itch just under his sack. Nick's eyes betrayed him. The sight of Jake's naked body, standing there in the middle of his bedroom, left him paralyzed. It was not the sort of paralysis that comes by an overwhelming sensation of terror. It was a paralysis of the mind. He could not look away. Jake's cock was a large but elegant piece of flesh--especially for a boy of fourteen. It glistened from the build up of sweat in his underwear, like recently polished walnut or copper. The whole thing, balls included, was bigger than Nick would have guessed. It was hairier, too. In fact, Nick was astounded by the amount of hair growing on Jake's sack and, more notably, above his shaft. He likened it to his own. "We're both guys, I guess," Jake said casually. "I don't mind seeing your balls if you don't mind seeing mine." Nick almost didn't hear him. The sudden, unexpected visual of sex was too much. Quickly, he shook the distraction. "Nah," he managed to say. Finally. He did his best to control himself, to shrug it off as nothing but ordinary. He could be cool about his buddy's dick, right? He could be cool? "Nah man, doesn't bother me any." Nick took off his own briefs, just to level the playing field. With a palpable weight, Nick's junk spilled from his underwear as he pulled it down. Though he was not fully erect--yet--it was evident that his penis was filled with a fair amount of blood. His fuzzy ballsack tugged heavily on his body, like an anchor lowering from his groin. Just by looking at each other, it was clear to them that they both had substantial testicles, which explained why they walked with particularly wide gaits. On top of that, they both had generously sized dicks, which also influenced their stride. Jake and Nick stood before each other fully naked. Without their clothes to mask their bodily scent, the room quickly filled with the unmistakable stink of teenage boy. Two hot, hormonal bodies with overwhelming levels of testosterone coursing through their blood--yes, Nick's bedroom reeked of musk and salt and--male spiciness. "Nice dick, man," Jake said. It was easy for him to say. He was not interested in Nick's penis, but he wasn't expressly disinterested in it either. There remained in him a healthy intrigue of male sexuality, for he too was developing in the same way. "Right back atcha," Nick said. But inside, his heart was pounding. They remained vulnerable for a few seconds more before Jake finally turned and went to go shower. Nick watched his buddy's developing body; watched how it moved, how it glowed in the soft light of the bathroom. Jake's ass was perfectly shaped, Nick noticed. It was plump and round--bridging the gap between boyhood and manhood--and remained the only part of his body that wasn't explicitly sun-kissed. The sight of his buddy's bare butt was even more shocking, for Nick always considered the ass to be a man's most intimate body part. And there he was staring at Jake's! As Jake showered, Nick sat on the foot of his bed, naked, lost in a storm of thought. For the rest of the night, when both of them were showered and lounging in nothing but their shorts, they browsed the internet for the most obscene porn they could find. And it was, by all accounts, obscene. With the walls of modesty torn down between them, Jake and Nick did not bother to conceal their boners, which protruded quite noticeably from their crotches. In fact, when their penises began to ache from excessive sexual stimulation, it was Jake who suggested they relieve themselves, right there in front of each other. "You mind, man?" Jake asked. He didn't wait around for Nick's permission, though. He sat back on Nick's bed, pulled his dick from his shorts, gave it about a dozen strokes and spewed glob after glob of hot white cum all over his bare stomach and chest. Nick watched his buddy orgasm. He watched the way Jake groaned as his boyhood sent him into the physical pleasure only males can understand. He watched the way Jake's breathing increased, the way his belly flexed, the way his legs squirmed, the way his balls pulled up close to his body. It was one of the most exciting things Nick's ever seen. As a result, Nick found himself climaxing--and he was still in his shorts. Nick pulled his cock out just in time to shoot all over his belly and chest--his neck and shoulder a little. After that, both of them, two buds, lie side by side on the bed, panting. It took them several long minutes to recover. All they could do was lie there, dicks exposed, bellies splattered with cum, hearts racing. It was the first sexual thrill of their lives. Ever since that night, Jake and Nick were as close as two boys could be--platonically speaking. They were connected on a level deeper than friendship, though neither of them would realize it for many years. From there on out, Jake and Nick spent every weekend with just each other. Sure they had mutual friends from the baseball team, sure they had friends at school. But for the most part, the two of them preferred to hang out with only each other. It was quieter that way, simpler, nicer. It slowly began that Jake and Nick found themselves naked around each other more than they did clothed. Spending the night always resulted in hours of porn, in a jack-off session, in three A.M. pillow-talks about which girl from their class they would fuck and how they would do it. They talked about their individual fetishes--at least, the fetishes fourteen-year-olds were capable of having. They talked about the hair that grew between their ballsacks and around their assholes, about the smell of their pits, about the size and shape of their feet. And on multiple accounts, Jake and Nick would wake up tangled up in each other. It was never because they had sex. No, it was because they were comfortable enough to share a bed, naked, with their buddy. There were mornings (and afternoons) where Nick would wake up with his face buried in between Jake's legs, his nose scouting the troughs of his buddy's fuzzy sack. Jake sometimes awoke to the smell of Nick's anus, which, as it turned out, was touching the tip of his nose. They awoke to their ballsacks in the other's armpits, their toe in the other's butthole, and their dicks slapped on the other's foreheads. It was part of being a guy, they figured. They were both active in their sleep, and were bound to occassionally roll into each other during the night. And usually, upon realizing they were all tangled up in each other, they would fall right back asleep. No problem. They were buds, and that's how its been ever since. Back in the woods, a gentle wind came through the clearing and rustled the trees all around them. Jake and Nick took stock in the breeze. It was summer, and the surrounding woods grew in thick, like the hair that guarded their groins, and offered little air conditioning. "Dude, did you see Mindy's tits yesterday in class?" Jake asked. "The AC was on full-blast. I couldn't look away." Nick giggled. It was the uniquely impish giggle that only boys are known for having. The thought of Mindy's tits caused a stirring in his shorts. "I would do her so hard," Jake went on. "Put a few babies in her." "Why don't you ask her out?" Jake snorted a laugh. "She's a fucking senior, dude. She'd never do a freshman like me. But believe me, I'd do her nice." They crossed a trickling stream and found themselves in a new part of the forest. Up ahead, a small herd of deer took off to the north. The trees were closing in. They were moving further and further away from the subdivisions. It should be noted that, among the honeysuckle and oak scent, Jake and Nick could smell each other. They were boys who played ball together, jacked-off together, often shared a bed, and no longer bothered to shut the door when they took a shit at each other's house. They were very familiar with how each other smelled. Both their nostrils flared as they each caught a whiff of each other's underarms. Underscoring the smell of armpit, however, was the unmistakeable scent of balls. Both boys knew the way their testicles smelled, especially after a long hike. The briny, sea-salt smell permeated the woods like steam. It was clear that they were producing a copious amount of testosterone; it was clear that they were dug deep into puberty. "Dude, I can smell your ballsack from down here," Jake said as he followed Nick up a small climb of rocks. "Yeah? Turns you on, doesn't it?" joked Nick. He reached the top of the climb and wiped his brow. Coming up behind him, Jake scoffed. "You wish, man," he said. "I know you secretly want your butt fucked." Nick laughed. "If I wanted my butt fucked, I certainly wouldn't ask you. I'd go for a bigger dick. Something more fulfilling." "Whoa, whoa, whoa," Jake mastered the climb and turned to his friend with a cocky, smug look; his chest puffed-out slightly, his legs spread confidently. "We've both seen each other's dicks, and you know as well as I do that I have the bigger dick between us." "You're thicker than me, not longer," Nick corrected. "When it comes to dicks, thickness is more important than length, dude. Trust me, a girl wants to 'feel' a man inside her." Nick sniffed the air. "Fuck, man, I can smell your ballsack, too." He groaned, almost irritably. "Why do boys stink so much?" Hopping over a fallen tree, Jake said, "Because we're becoming men. That's why. It's a beautiful thing, bud. Embrace it." Trailing after him, Nick chuckled. "So you're telling me you like the smell of my balls?" Jake shrugged. "We're both guys. It's not like we haven't smelled a ballsack before. It's just what our bodies are going through, you know? We're growing hair everywhere and stinking. It's part of manhood, dude." Nick had to admit Jake was right. They spent so much time together that their bodies were synchronized as far as pubescent development was concerned. Their testosterone levels were matched--their hair-growth, foot-size, dick-size, ballsack-size, all of it was atuned to each other's body. Even their butts were filling out at similar rates. But did that mean that Jake liked the smell of Nick's ballsack? Surely not, Nick thought. Surely not? Unexpectedly, Nick felt another stirring in his groin. "Dude, I want pussy so fucking bad right now," Jake said. "Right," said Nick, "because any other time you would only want pussy a little bit." With a cheeky grin, Jake whirled on Nick. "I'll kick your ass." "Kick it, or fuck it?" Jake wrapped his arm around Nick's head and wrestled him, playfully, gently, to the ground. "Hey!" Nick cried. "Lemme go!" They were sincerely joking with each other. It was their back-and-forth, their natural banter. Nick had the smartass quips, and Jake had the rough-n-tough answers. Never once did either of them expect their joking to result in something more than playfulness. As Nick laughed and growled and cursed, and made every effort to wriggle free from Jake's hold, he was suddenly overcome by the scent of Jake's armpit. The smell was strong, but it wasn't necessarily bad. In fact, it was almost comforting. Nick knew the smell well. He would have been able to pick Jake out of a crowd of a hundred guys, based on smell alone, if he had to. And in turn, Jake would have been able to do the same for him. What Nick hadn't anticipated, though, was that he would get a massive boner because of it. His buddy's smell--that strong and that close--triggered something in him, something deep, and he nearly popped out of his basketball shorts. He suddenly remembered what they learned in their sex-ed class earlier that year. Males produce their strongest pheramones from their pits and their groin. That explained why they could smell each other's ballsacks through their shorts so easily! It explained why Nick could smell Jake's armpit so intensely right then, and more importantly, why he was rock hard. He was literally smelling his buddy's sex hormones, as if Jake's body was involuntarily sending him signals--and his body was reacting to those signals. The smell of sex! Finally, Jake released his hold on Nick's head, and Nick staggered away a bit, trying to conceal the noticeable protrusion from his shorts. "S'the matter?" Jake asked, panting. "You come out of your underwear or somethin?" "Yeah, a little," Nick admitted, laughing. He opened the waistband of his shorts and rearranged himself. "Are you wearing that gray pair, with the hole on the right cheek?" "Yep." Nick pulled down the back of his shorts and revealed the torn underwear. It was an old, ratty pair; easily three-years-worn. They were small, almost too small, for Nick (his butt and malehood had grown in three years' time), so the underwear barely covered him up. And indeed, there was a thumb-sized hole on the right cheek, just beside the crack of his ass. "Ah," Jake gave his buddy a knowing look. "I always slip out when I wear that pair. It happens, man." Jake gave Nick a minute or so to recover before they carried on, continuing to carve their trail through the thickening wood. For a while, they carried on in silence. It was a comfortable silence, and peaceful. Even so, both of them were filled with a whirlwind of thoughts. "Do you think you would ever fuck a dude?" Jake asked. Nick felt a flutter in his belly. "What d'ya mean? Like, be gay?" "Yeah." For a boy of fifteen, Nick measured his answer considerably. "I don't know," he said with a shrug. "Guess he would have to be a hell of a guy for me to wanna fuck him." "Would you ever let a dude fuck you?" Jake didn't necessarily have an ulterior motive for asking his questions. He was simply leading a conversation of boyish curiosity. He had always been an instigator like that, so Nick thought little of it. "What, and have a dick stuck up my butt?" Nick asked. He laughed and kicked dirt. "I don't know, man." From the flurries swirling around in their stomachs, it was clear they were breeching comfort levels with their conversation. The invisible thread that bound them together grew taut, and suddenly, they were no longer walking. Jake was positioned to the east, his dick in his hands and a powerful stream of piss jettisoning from his body. Nick paced behind him, his eyes restless. "Why do you ask?" It was almost as if Nick didn't want to conversation to fizzle out. Shaking out the last drops, Jake shrugged, casually. "Just curious, man," he said, tucking himself back into his shorts. "Would you?" "What?" "Fuck a dude?" Jake laughed. "Hell, I'm so horny these days, I'd fuck just about anyone," he said. "I'd even fuck you, just to finally stick my dick in a hole." He started to walk on down the path, coolly. Behind him, Nick's heart thumped against his breastbone with considerable weight. He coughed up a laugh, but anything beyond that was impossible. His throat felt tangled. In his shorts, substantial activity was taking place. In a burst of excitement, Nick caught up with Jake. It wasn't immediately clear to him why he was excited. He was into girls...genuinely. He liked girls. And he knew full-well that Jake like them, too. But being boys cresting sexual maturity, was it possible that they were also the least bit curious about each other? Nick didn't know. He didn't understand. "Do you think guys have nice butts?" he asked. "I mean, like, do you ever look the other guys at school?" Jake shrugged. "Sometimes. Luke Gelson has a cute butt, I guess. For a guy, I mean." Another stirring in Nick's groin, another rush of butterflies. "Really?" "Yeah, man," Jake said. "I don't know. With girls it's all about the tits, you know. I never really bother looking at a chick's ass. Guys, though, have better asses." He hauked a loogie and spat, achieving a ten-foot distance. There was a breath's delay, and then, "You have a nice ass." Nick's heart was pounding. He couldn't understand why. Jake was his friend, his buddy. Jake was a dude! Why was he so wrapped up in the sexual tension building between them? Nick smiled. It was distinctly boyish, his smile was. It was endearing. Jake mirrored Nick's smile. His smile, though, was impish and clever. There was something behind it, something Nick couldn't exactly make out. "Damn," Nick said. He came to a stop, a handful of his own crotch, and laughed. "I'm rock hard right now." "Yeah, me too." Jake grabbed his junk and squeezed it, hard. Through his shorts, the outline of his swollen cock was unmistakeable. Nick had to keep himself from staring. "What d'ya say, man? Can I fuck you?" They were the words Nick never believed he would hear out of Jake's mouth, and at the same time, they were the words he most wanted to hear right at that moment. Still, it remained a mystery to him. He was straight. Jake was straight. But the thought of losing his virginity to his best friend...there was something truly special in that. They were bonding in a new, brotherly way. "Sure." He tried to be nonchalant about it. He strove to be cool. Inside, he was exhilarated. At that very moment, both boys were releasing their strongest scents. Their bodies were producing an overload of testosterone, and pheramones were pouring from their pits, their groins...their butts. The smell filled the surrounding woods like thick smoke. "Sweet." Jake took out his dick. It was a weighty, fleshy extension, engorged with blood, stiff as a plank of wood. Nick could feel the heat coming off it from several feet away. "Bend over, dude." Nick reached out and braced himself against a nearby oak tree. Inside, his heart was thundering. His stomach was a sea tossing in a raging typhoon. His penis--a bolt of lightning, ready to strike. Jake slid a couple of fingers into the waistband of Nick's shorts and yanked down. They slid right off Nick's peach-fuzz bottom and gathered around his ankles, leaving his lower half completely exposed. From where Jake stood, the sight of Nick's ample butt--bare and vulnerable--and fuzzy ballsack dangling underneath was stupidly, intoxicatingly thrilling. It was his first view of sex that wasn't through a computer screen. Jake had seen Nick's bare butt and dangling sack plenty of times before, but this time, for some reason, it was a turn-on. Probably because he was going to fuck Nick, whereas before that was never the agenda. But there, on that hot summer day in the woods, Jake stood over Nick's naked lower half like a lion looming over a downed gazelle. His mouth began to water. "Just go slow, man," Nick said, a barely audible tremor in his voice. "Don't worry, bud, I won't hurt you. When's the last time you took a shit?" "Last night," said Nick. "I showered after the game this morning." "Cool." The instant Jake's hands touch him, Nick felt a jolt of electricity zap through his body. Jake's hands were course for a boy of fifteen. He and Nick, both, earned their own money by cutting lawns and doing yardwork during their summers. Naturally, their youthful carpenter's-hands were growing rough. So when Jake grabbed a firm hold of Nick's ass cheeks and spread them apart to expose his brown pucker, Nick felt it. His buddy had a powerful grip. "Damn," Jake whispered as he stared down at Nick's anus. Nick's sphincter pulsed with excitement, and appeared, slightly, moist from the afternoon's sweat. A faint ring of dark hair had begun to grow around his hole, and it continued further south, running along his taint, and into the crop of pubic hair that nestled his testicles. What Nick wasn't able to see was Jake's face, which stared down at his underside in awe and childlike wonder. It was as if Jake had discovered the Holy Grail, or, at least, achieved the impossible in a video game that he had been playing for years, but never quite mastered. A bead of pre-cum sprouted from the tip of Jake's penis. "Sorry, if it stinks," Nick said. Standing over Nick's ass, Jake sniffed at the air. "It's not too bad. No worse than mine, at least. Smells like a boy. And butts are supposed to stink." He positioned his dick at Nick's anus. "You ready, bud?" "Yeah," Nick said. A burst of adrenaline in his belly caused his anus to pinch shut. "Use some spit, will ya?" he added, on second thought. Jake greased up his malehood with a generous amount of saliva. Next, he wetted a couple fingers and rubbed them over Nick's hole. Nick tensed the moment he felt Jake touching him, massaging spit over the walls of his sphincter and, with unexpected grace and proficiency, fingering him, loosening him, widening him. But quickly, Nick was able to relax. This was Jake, after all. His best bud. They were just being boys, they were just experimenting with each other. Nick's anus muscles relaxed, almost completely, allowing for easy entry. And that's when Jake fell back into position, the tip of his cock connecting with Nick's butthole and, gradually, he began applying pressure. Jake mounted his buddy like a pro. It was hardly discernible that this was his first time. In all, it took three or four minutes before Nick was opened wide enough to accomodate Jake's dick. But once Jake slipped up inside, they both gasped--in surprised ecstacy. For Nick, the sensation of his best friend filling him up on the inside was indescribable. It was more pleasurable than he imagined it would be; it served a deeper meaning than he could have hoped for. For Jake, feeling the inside of Nick was beyond the imagination. Nick's rectum was so wet and warm, so inviting. He was inside his buddy! They had, now, formed a closer bond than most friends do in a lifetime. While some boys cut their fingers and make vows as blood-brothers, Jake was effectively elevating Nick to a status of "wife." He and Nick were now connected in a way that was unique to men and women. Their friendship, their relationship, was multi-dimensional. It transcended normality. Nobody else had this bond with their buddy, and Jake took immeasurable pride in that. "You okay?" Jake asked, gently. Gripping the oak tree, Nick nodded, took a deep breath. "Yeah, man," he said. His voice was taut, as if he were speaking through a great deal of sensation. "You're definitely inside me. How's it feel?" "Fuck, dude," Jake said, "it feels great." "Yeah?" "Yeah, your ass is so warm, so tight. This is probably exactly what fucking pussy feels like." Slowly, gradually, Jake began to move his hips. At first, Nick's anus had such a firm grip around the base of his cock that he wasn't able to slide further in or further out. But as Nick breathed and got used to the penetration of hot, thick flesh, his body succumbed to the visitor, and his butthole began to nurse Jake's dick as opposed to imprison it. Within seconds, Jake was bucking his hips. He wasn't thrusting hard, nor too deep, but he was pumping at a steady, comfortable pace, and Nick was receiving him with ease. After a while of moderate thrusting, Jake allowed himself to sink deeper inside Nick's bowels, charting new, unexplored territory, seeing how far he could get. Surprisingly, Nick let him sink into him balls-deep. Jake let out a long, drawn-out moan. "Holy shit," he said, almost out of breath. "I'm balls-deep, dude." "Yep," Nick growled. "I can feel it." The head of Jake's penis had gone beyond Nick's rectum and was at that very moment breeching his colon. It was a slightly terrifying, slightly thrilling sensation, but Nick had never known a better one. His buddy was excavating the most intimate, untouchable parts of his body. Jake was the only one who had ever been inside him, and for Nick, that was a significant, symbolic joy in and of itself. He took pride in it. Seven inches deep, and with chills runnings up and down his back, Jake also took immeasurable pride in this unexpected bond with Nick. By now, he, too, had his shorts wrapped around his ankles. His hairy ballsack also hung down between his legs (slightly lower and more weighty than Nick's ballsack) and managed to consistently slap against Nick's exposed taint with each thrust. They were two bare-legged, bare-assed boys fucking in the woods. Had an onlooker been nearby, they would have gasped at the prurient sight. Two young, white butts connected with swollen, teenage testicles dangling underneath amidst the scenery of nature. The distinct male smell permeating the air might have even choked the onlooker, near to death. Slipping in and out of Nick's ass, Jake had worked himself into a steady quick rhythm. He panted with the consistency of a dog. His legs were spread far apart, allowing optimal access to Nick's gaping anus. In and out he went. The sweat of Nick's ass crack combined with Jake's saliva mixed together, creating a warm, greasy lubricant. In and out. In and out. As Jake's substantial malehood drilled into him, trying with every thrust for his large intestine, Nick's weighty genitals jiggled helplessly in between his legs. The summer sun had baked the forest canopy to a fine crisp. Now, with their hearts racing and their blood pressure up, Jake and Nick had grown unbelievably hot. Without ever stopping, Jake tore off his shirt, pulled it up over his head and tossed it on the ground next to them. Keeping one hand on the oak tree to steady himself, to absorb the blows of Jake's thrusts, Nick tore his shirt off as well. They were then, both of them, stark naked with the exception of their shorts, which were tangled up around their shoes. A thin, glossy sheen of sweat covered their bodies. They were young bucks in the prime of physical maturation, and sweat was a big part in their body's functionality. But now, especially, with their shirts torn off, both Jake and Nick's armpits were exposed. Their legs were spread, and their testicles were perfuming the air along with their taints and their assholes. Their individual, unqiue brands of scent clashed and intermixed, creating a whole new scent of boyhood that drifted and spread through the surrounding trees like wildfire. It probaby didn't help that neither of them showered since the day before, but that's boyhood for you. They were both a little ripe, a little briny. Jake's fat cock had, by this point, been rubbing up against Nick's prostate repeatedly for ten minutes. Between his legs, Nick's dick was bouncing with a considerable stiffness. He felt that at any moment he would explode and spew hot white cum all over the tree trunk. "Oh fuck," he cried out, nearly at a gasp. "I'm close, dude." Behind him, sunk down to his pubic hair inside Nick's butt, Jake agreed. "Yeah," he panted. "Me too!" Suddenly, Nick could feel Jake's cock swell up to its full potential. Inside his rectum, he could feel his buddy's penis harden even more than was possible. In truth, Nick felt that he was hosting a brick. Somehow, Jake's dick became even hotter, as if more blood was flooding into it. And that's when Jake collapsed into Nick's back, burying his head in between Nick's shoulder blades, wrapping his arms around Nick's chest and belly. Jake gripped Nick's lower abdomen as if he were trying to keep Nick's guts from falling out. This was odd to Nick at first, but then it occurred to him that Jake was feeling the organs that he was about to fill up with his own seed. Jake's hand massaged and squeezed Nick's belly, tracing the outline of his intestines and fondling them--as if they were his. That was when Nick felt his testicles pull up to his body. A rush of fluids somewhere deep inside his groin, a tingling sensation, a burning--a fire! "Fuck!" he said. Jake echoed Nick's cry. With Jake's penis seven inches deep inside him, Nick went into orgasm. The rush of seminal fluids had been a long time coming, and now they were at the flood gates, and the gates were near-to-bursting. As his entire body seemed to weaken--all of his energy pinpointed on his dick, on his anus--Nick released a low, gutteral groan (it was more of a growl actually) and braced himself for the explosion. The sensation grew more and more intense. It was like nothing he's ever felt before. Amisdt his low-timbre growl, Nick's voice cracked, and his body was suddenly, violently, in orgasm. The orgasm lasted for an eternity, it seemed, but finally Nick found that he was pumping what felt like a quarter gallon of semen out of his body. He splattered the oak tree with his male juices--twenty hefty pumps, each with the intensity of a canon firing. At the same time, Nick could feelhis anus contracting, pulsing, suckling at Jake's penis, nursing it, milking it. Buried seven inches inside Nick's ass, collapsed on top of Nick's back, arms wrapped around Nick's body, Jake stopped thrusting. He couldn't take it anymore, he couldn't move another inch, he was too sensitive, the feeling was too intense. His grip around Nick's body strengthened, so much so that Nick (who had just achieved orgasm) feared he might actually suffocate. Jake unleashed a deep, rumbling growl--similar to Nick--and his voice, too, cracked as all of his male faculties gave way to the ultimate pleasure only males can know. Like a ruptured damn, Jake burst. He was holding onto Nick--clinging to Nick--as the orgasm took him. He was balls-deep inside his friend's butthole, shooting everything he had stored up into the deepest, darkest parts of Nick's body. Panting, recuperating, Nick could feel Jake's cum dousing his insides. His buddy's seminal deluge came with considerable force, shooting up into his colon, splattering and coating the walls of his rectum, filling him with a toasty warm sensation that he never wanted to end. He was officially being marked by Jake, and he was the first--the priviledged first. Twenty-two pumps, and Jake's orgasm was complete. He had emptied all of himself inside Nick--and it was a substantial amount. Both of them stayed perfectly still for the first couple minutes afterwards. They stayed there, catching their breath, recovering. But when it was time, Jake, with his arms still wrapped around Nick, with his cock still plugged in deep, was the first to move. He peeled his body off of Nick, and, gently, pulled his penis from Nick's butthole. His cock came out with a noisy wet pop and fell, heavy and milked, against his thigh. Between his legs, Nick's cock was also growing slack, the vestiges of cum glistening from its tip. In perfect synchronization, both boys bent down and pulled up their shorts. They took a moment, delighting in the welcome summer breeze on their naked torsos, and then reached for their shirts. "Great, now my dick stinks," Jake said jokingly as he pulled his shirt over his head. Nick laughed, hardly feeling sorry for him. "Dude, what'd you expect after fucking an ass?" "Come here!" Jake wrapped his arm around Nick's head and wrestled him. It was easy, it was familiar, it was routine. Just minutes ago, Jake's penis had been colon-deep in Nick's butt, and here they were, back to their playful, brotherly selves. "It was a hell of an orgasm, though," Nick said, once he managed to wriggle free from Jake's headlock. "Sure was. You have a great ass, man." Nick knew it was just a compliment. He knew there wasn't anything else behind it. But regardless, he was beaming. "Thanks, dude." They started back along the trail, cutting a slightly different path through the woods. The sun was tilting west, and they were both getting hungry. Fifteen-year-old boys, especially ones who've just had sex, are easily plagued by hunger. As they walked, both their stomachs rumbled and growled. It was the sound of teenagers, if there ever was one. But Nick's belly growled for more reasons than one. Down in his lower gut, Jake's semen swirled and ebbed within him. He could feel it moving, flowing, like warm honey or syrup. For a second he was afraid he would have to poop. But the sensation subsided, and he found that he was delighting in the feeling of his buddy's cum internally warming him. Without knowing it, Nick was smiling. "Jesus, I stink, dude," Jack said, sniffing his pit. "Can't be any worse than the way your dick smells," Nick joked. "I'll kick your ass." "It'd be an improvement, considering you just fucked it." Lost in the nature of boyhood, Jake chased after Nick, threatening to pummel him, to waste him. Nick, all the while, outran Jake. Jake was the stronger of the two, but Nick was faster. When the teasing fizzled out, Nick, who was wearing a devilishly sly smirk, said, "So does this make us fuck buddies now?" "Look, I'm not in love with you or anything faggoty like that," Jake said, scratching his balls, walking with swagger. He spat into a patch of thorn bushes. "The second I find a chick who'll let me fuck her, I'm dropping your ass." They shared a laugh. "But till then, I don't know, we're both guys who need to get off somehow, right?" Nick wholeheartedly agreed. "I say, why not?" And so, for a solid year, it became their new routine. Every weekend they would spend the night, and they would play video games, and eat, and watch porn, and fuck, and pass out while watching 4am cartoons. It was never a question of who bottomed and who topped. Jake was always the top, and Nick never once minded the dynamic. It was their natural relationship, Jake always being slightly more dominate, slightly more alpha. Friday and Saturday nights, Jake would breed Nick, and Nick would shit it all out the next day. They spent most of their time together naked, for sex was always an option. Both their rooms began to stink something fierce--began to reek of penis and ass, of armpit and feet. And though Nick's asshole was the main object when they fucked, Jake's asshole was just as exposed, just as much of a contributor to the room's smell. Whenever their dads would walk in, it was clear that they were smelling boy sex. But neither of them elected to investigate the nature of the sex smell. Both Jake and Nick's fathers were just hoping that their sons were masturbating together while staring at internet porn--they hoped. But then again, both Jake and Nick's fathers were much too preoccupied with their own lives to pay much attention or give much thought to the nature of their sons' friendship. And so, they simply never inquired.But Jake and Nick never noticed the smell, as potent as it was. It was just how they smelled, and they found refuge in it. While they fucked, sometimes savagely (Jake was a power-top, Nick would eventually learn), they never once kissed. No, kissing was the unspoken rule between them. They were straight, and they were guys. It was one thing to fuck a dude's ass when there weren't any chicks accessible, but to kiss another guy was out of the question. Jake and Nick were not in love, they knew. They weren't gay, they weren't fags--they were just friends, the best of friends, who just so happened to fuck each other. And under those conditions, they were cool with it. Eventually, they quit the baseball team. High school baseball was fun and all, but the older you got, the more political it became, and neither of them had the ambitions to go far anyway. They would rather ditch practice for a quick butt-fuck in the locker rooms. Their dicks were more of an interest to them than anything else, the next orgasm was always on the mind. And so Jake and Nick continued in this way for a year. Every weekend (and even sometimes during the week) Jake would mark Nick as his own, as his buddy. "Your ass is my ass," he would always say. And Nick was happy to consider himself Jake's property. He was his best friend, after all. They had known each other, been friends with each other, longer than most marriages. Of course Jake could claim him, Nick thought. But then, one day, they grew up. After Jake and Nick turned sixteen, Jake began flirting with Allison Derny in Geometry. He asked her out, she said yes, and for the first Friday night in three years, he did not spend the night with Nick. It was not painful for Nick. At least, not in the way painful is for someone who is abandoned by their life-long crush. But it was odd not having Jake around, not sharing a bed with his best friend. For the first time in his life, even more than when he was abandoned by his mother after his birth, Nick felt empty. Hollow. Needless to say, Nick did not sleep very well that night. Jake and Allison began dating, and that's when Nick knew his relationship with Jake would be forever changed. Allison became Jake's primary interest, and though they occassionally continued to sleepover at each others' house, Jake often chose to go out with Allison instead. There was never any talk of "we can't continue fucking around" or "we need to talk about these changes." No, it was an unspoken understanding between Jake and Nick. They were both connected, on an intuitive level, and they could read their cues just fine. Nick knew Jake was refocusing, reprioritizing, and it eventually occurred to him that he needed to refocus, too. Two months into Jake and Allison's relationship, Nick started seeing Natalie Taylor from British Literature. Natalie was a nice girl--gorgeous--and eventually she and Nick were official. The four of them would double-date, often, for Allison and Natalie were also friends. That same year, Jake and Nick got their first jobs. Jake was working for Taco Bell, Nick for Starbucks. They both managed to save up enough money while working that, come seventeen, they were able to buy their first junker trucks. With their first vehicles, they spent their summer piddling with the engines and sparkplugs and radiators in the driveway of their homes. Before school started back up, they both got jobs at a local autobody shop, and continued working there throughout the schoolyear. Jake and Allison broke up that September--it was harder on Jake than it was on Allison, who he suspected was cheating on him, but whatever, "I'm over it," he said. And Nick realized in October that he and Natalie were growing apart, and they, too, broke up--though, with more diplomacy than Jake and Allison. Both single again, Jake and Nick found more time for each other. It was great, it was familiar, it was nostaligc. Together, they swore off girls--or as Jake liked to call them: "A bunch of high-maintenance cunts!" They were hanging out, just the two of them again. Two buddies, in the prime of their lives, shootin' the breeze. But, much to Nick's disappointment (and secretly to Jake's disappointment) they did not resume their fuck-buddy relationship. It was clear, they were older now, they were enroaching on their senior year. They were no longer boys who could get away with "boyish curiosity." They were becoming real men, who would one day marry and have children. They couldn't keep messing around, or rather "experimenting," by having sex with each other--no, not anymore. Jake and Nick would still talk about sex, though. They would go out on dates, most of which turned out to be quick hook-ups, and come back stinking of beer and pussy. They would crash at each other's house, talk about their sex lives, play video games, go out and party with their friends. They were teenage boys, and the world was theirs to own. Beer became an object of interest, only second to their dicks. And every once in a while, they would masturbate in front of each other. It was easy, it was fun--just like old times. When they graduated, neither of their fathers came to the ceremony. Instead, Jake and Nick celebrated with their friends, with their favorite teachers--with each other. The best photo they've ever taken together, and the photo that sits on their fireplace mantle to this day, was snapped on that very day. With arms slung coolly around each other, Jake and Nick, bedecked in cap and gown, smiled happily. They were the epitome of high school jocks--the handsomest, the suavest. They were, arguably, the best-looking boys in their class. Chiseled jaw lines, beautiful teeth, smoldering brows. Everything about them screamed "guys, best buds, testosterone, kindness, wit, sex, young, dapper, eighteen-till-I-die." They had grown up since that day in the northern woods, and they both knew it. They had gone up a shoe-size, a dick-size. They were taller. They had broader shoulders, a more filled out framework, a more prominent brow, a sturdier build. Testosterone had increased their muscle-size; it put more hair on their bodies, it filled out their butts even more than they were, and it placed even more weight on their ballsacks. They had bridged the gap from boyhood to manhood, but most importantly, they did it together. When Nick went off to college at the end of the summer, it was a hard goodbye. Even though Jake knew he would see Nick every so often, the fact of the matter was that Nick was going to be four hours away, and that was an incredible distance. Over time, Nick returned home less and less. They spoke on the phone from time to time, texted each other even more so. But Jake eventually grew restless in their small Ohio town, where nobody ever did anything that appealed to his interests. Sure, Jake had a couple close buddies who he would frequently hang out with. But it was the same old, same old, every night. The same bar, the same beer, the same sort of conversation about work and women--and, besides, those buddies weren't Nick. The local girls were either too brainless or too desperate. He had a good fuck every now and then, but he had grown tired of assistant managing the autobody shop, and community college did not serve his interests. Finally, Jake made the best decision available to him. He joined the military, and three months later, he was stationed halfway across the country, training in the marines. Four hours south of their small Ohio town, Nick was buried in his studies. He had received almost a full-ride (he had always been a smart kid) and was working on finishing his undergrad in Literary Theory and Criticism. It was a lot of reading, a lot of writing, and his mind was nearly fried at the end of every week. At nights, he would stare out the window over his bed and stare up at the stars, wondering, often, about Jake. Nick began dating a lovely girl named Miranda toward the end of his sophomore year, but their relationship only lasted a handful of months before they realized they simply didn't have time for each other. It was a mutual break-up. Even so, Nick found himself at a local bar in the aftermath of it all, remembering the fun that he and Jake used to have together, and despairing in the thought that he might never have that again. It was almost too cliche that a thirty-year-old businessman caught sight of Nick sitting alone at the bar. The man grabbed the stool beside him, ordered a whiskey, and introduced himself. "I'm Clayton," the man said. He shook Nick's hand. "Nick." "Nick, you seem down, can I buy you another beer?" It was a nice gesture. Nick almost declined, but what the hell? "Yeah," he said, smiling for the first time that day. "Yeah, that'd be nice." Nick and Clayton talked for over an hour that night at the bar. Clayton was, perhaps, just the thing Nick needed. He was tall, handsome (great smile), and in good shape. He carried with him the distinct smell of Old Spice, combined with some kind of minty fragrance. Nick had never really enjoyed the smell of other men (aside from Jake, of course), but Clayton's scent was particularly interesting. Four beers later, Nick was clearly incapacitated to drive. "Why don't you stay the night at my place," Clayton suggested. "I'll drive you back in the morning." Nick considered that to be a splendid idea, and that night, he and Clayton had sex. It was the first guy Nick's been sexual with since Jake. He had almost forgotten how it went with guys, it had been so long. But the connection with another male was something he needed. And Clayton was quite good, sexually, and helped Nick remember. He touched Nick in a more sensual way than any woman ever had. Still, it wasn't able to measure up to the way Jake used to touch him. Then again, Nick wasn't expecting Clayton to fulfill Jake's shoes. Either way, having sex with Clayton reminded Nick, very much, of Jake. And he and Clayton continued having sex for nearly a year. Though he still fucked girls whenever he could, Nick appreciated the male comraderie he had with Clayton. Clayton was older than he was, was wiser, but still a nice enough friend to fuck and, later, shoot the breeze with. Actually, it was never Clayton who got fucked. Nick, somehow, always found himself bottoming when it came to guys. He didn't mind, though. For him, it was a different kind of sexual release. It was a different kind of--satisfaction. And Clayton was expertly skilled with his penis, and knew how to pleasure Nick in ways Nick didn't even know he could be pleasured. While Nick and Clayton were having frequent romps in the hay, Jake was elsewhere in the world, doing the same. As if firearms training and physical training weren't enough for him, Jake was on the prowl more often than not, seducing women, fucking their brains out, and sniffing out the next. A couple times, when he was in a peculiar mood and found himself having peculiar tastes, Jake sniffed out a guy or two. Sniffing out guys, Jake thought, was an easy task. They had a stronger scent than women did, and he even thought they smelled better. Or was he just remembering the smell of Nick? Either way, he always enjoyed himself while on the prowl. Twenty-three years old. Nick graduated with two degrees: Literary Theory and Criticism along with Psychology. If you were to ask him what he planned to do with those degrees, where he wanted to go career-wise, how he planned to succeed, he would have shrugged and said, "No fucking clue." Write for the New Yorker. Teach, maybe. He was thinking about going for his Masters but "I guess I'll see what government funding I can get first." He had decided, for the time being, to move back to his small Ohio town. His relationship with Clayton ended the previous year, and although he had fucked a few girls and guys since, he wasn't bound to anyone. He had made some close friends at college, one particularly great friend. But now, he needed to be back with his buddy. He needed Jake. The day Nick pulled back into his driveway and saw Jake standing there, crossed-armed, shirtless, glistening in sweat from having just mowed his lawn, was possibly the happiest he's ever been. He was driving a Toyota now--still a junker, but much more economic than his truck had been. He put the car in park, hopped out, and without a hesitant muscle in his body, enveloped Jake in a massive, powerful hug. They held it, for a long time. "What's up, Scholar," Jake said. "Oh, I'm sorry," Nick broke the hug and saluted Jake. "My apologies, Marine." "Cut that shit out," Jake slugged him gently in the shoulder. And they stood there for an hour, on the border of their yards, catching up on the years. It was fluid, it was easy, talking to each other like that. They hadn't spoken for nearly two years up to that point, but somehow, it was like a day hadn't passed between them. Neither of them mentioned that they thought about each other nearly everyday during those two years, even though they were both quite aware of it. They didn't need to mention it. They were hanging out as buddies again, just like old times, and that was all they ever wanted. After Nick cashed in his graduation money over the next few days, he and Jake impulsively hopped in the car one afternoon and started toward Vegas. It was wild and wreckless, but who the hell cared? They were a fucking scholar and a fucking marine, and they could do what they fucking wanted. Neither of them had jobs, neither of them had committments. For the first time in their lives, they were completely, undeniably free. The roadtrip, which was filled with nothing but conversations about their sex lives for the past several years--that, and good music--lasted two days. They took turns driving, stopping only once at a campsite to sleep. They slept in the car together, both of them reclined in their seats, the low hum of their battery-powered radio cradling them through the night. They resumed driving early the next day, even before the sun breeched the horizon. Breakfast was hot coffee and donuts, lunch was greasy take-out. It was the freedom that turned them on. It was the wreckless abandonment of their lives. "So yeah, Sandy had a fan-fucking-tastic pussy," Jake said, continuing a story that had begun in St. Louis. "Really tight, you know? It was like having a mouth around my dick. Felt like I was being sucked off." "Nice." Nick took a large bite out of his burger. Chased it down with a sip of Dr. Pepper. "She had this thing, though," Jake went on, "where she would try and stick her fingers up my ass." "Yeah?" "Yeah, dude, she was all about it. Felt kinda good, but I dunno, was a little weird. The bedroom smelled terrible afterwards, I can tell you that!" He switched lanes, passing a slow driver. "You're a guy," Nick said, shrugging. "Guys don't have particularly great smelling butts." "I know that first-hand," Jake said with a hearty laugh. He teasingly poked at Nick. "Shut the fuck up and drive," Nick said, a grin spread wide across his face. They pulled into Vegas late that night, stumbled sleepily into a Motel 6 just off the strip, and crashed--hard. Neither of them woke up until noon the next day. And that's when the partying commenced. Between the two of them, they won over three thousand bucks, treated themselves to a nice meal, and more importantly, to nice drinks. By three in the morning, both Jake and Nick were back in their room at the Motel 6, each with a chick in hand. They met the girls at a club near the Bellagio (they were far too inebriated to remember the name) and harmless flirting led to some sinister fun. "You're sharing a room with only one bed?" the blond asked upon walking in the door. Nick and Jake swapped looks, shrugged, and said, "Yeah. So?" "It's just strange," said the redhead. Or was she brunette? "Two guys in one bed?" "Doesn't bother us any," Jake said. He closed the door behind them, and smoothly, seductively, he and Nick began to mellow out their catch. In a lip-lock, Jake had the blond stretched out on the bed and, sure as anything, was unfastening her bra through her blouse. Nick, meanwhile, had the redhead at the foot of the bed--his dick already in her mouth. That night, Jake and Nick fucked their club prizes. Both girls moaned and squealed on the bed while Jake and Nick, side-by-side, drilled their cocks into them. It was two bare male asses, with low-hanging ballsacks dangling underneath, plowing a couple of chicks. It was strange, too, how the two of them ended up looking at each other, high-fiving and laughing, more than the girls they were fucking. Even when it came time to orgasm, Jake and Nick grabbed onto each other for support, for stability, for intimacy. They gripped each other's shoulder as they blew their loads all over the naked chicks, as if sharing the moment together, as buddies, was their first priority. "Okay, have a good night," Jake said just before closing and locking the door. Both women, their hair tosseled and their lip-stick smeared, stood on the sidewalk outside the Motel 6, dumbfounded. "What jerks!" the redhead said. She started clicking off in her high-heels. The blond followed after her. Inside, Jake and Nick, butt-naked, were suppressing profound laughter. "Dude, did you see their faces?" Jake said through his teeth, his face red with laughter. "Did you see?" His firm marine-belly pulsated with his giggling. Running south from his belly button, a trail of brown fur led to his fleshy penis, which hung there with incredible weight. It had grown since that last time Nick saw it. It was longer; it was thicker. Jake's testicles were hairier, too. More plump. Still glistening from the condoms and the lubricant, Jake's penis looked dripping wet. Nick delighted in the image. He missed the sight of his buddy's genitals. But the inertia of his laughter had him nearly rolling on the floor. He could barely keep his eyes open. He was tearing up. So what Nick couldn't see were Jake's eyes, decisively focused on his own genitals. As he recovered from his laughter, Jake found himself looking, no, staring at Nick's ass. His friend was crouched over, clutching his gut, belly-laughing (it was undoubtedly clear they had been drinking all night), and in doing so, his round white ass was perfectly visible. It felt like a millenia since the last time Jake saw Nick's butt. And it was a pleasant surprise. Nick always had a nice ass, Jake thought, and since their days of boyhood, his ass had matured a lot. It's peach-fuzz had grown into a light dusting of man hair, darker along the crack and down near the taint. Beneath the black trench of his ass, Nick's fuzzy sack hung low and heavy, like a pendelum of flesh. Jake couldn't take his eyes off his buddy's backside. Nick has a great figure to him--for a dude, at least. His ass was so much nicer, so much richer, than any ass Jake had seen on a chick. Nick's legs were finely shaped, his torso, his stomach, his shoulders and arms. Nick's feet, too, were particularly good-looking. Nick had an aesthetic appeal, Jake thought. He always had. Sure, Nick was smaller than Jak in overall size. Jake was the marine after all, and was naturally more built, more filled-out than him. Jake had a significant stature, a more sturdy framework. But Nick was still distinctly masculine in his form. They both were. Testosterone was a strong force between them. Slowly, their laughter subsided. And, naked, they both took to the bed. They slept hard that night, and didn't bother waking until well into the afternoon the following day. Breakfast (or was it lunch?) was at an Ihop, and although their heads were swimming from the previous nights' imbibing, a few more hours of gambling resulted in another eight hundred dollars in their favor. Jake and Nick were rolling in it. They were, genuinely, having the time of their lives. If you were ask them, they would've said, Yes, everything about this trip is perfect. And they might have even truly believed it at the time. But somewhere inside each of them, something was missing. "You want another?" Jake asked, fingering Nick's empy mug. They were seated at a bar in Ceasar's Palace. It was quarter after ten, and they were winding down. "Nah," Nick declined. Then, "Okay." "Bartender," Jake lifted a hand. "My buddy's thirsty." A few seconds later, Nick had another mug of draft beer, and he gulped at it. Jake ordered a third for himself. "Those chicks last night were fun, weren't they?" Jake said, sipping the effervescing foam off the top. Nick agreed. "Stupid, though," Jake said. "What did my chick say? Something about going for her cosmetology license?" "She said she was thinking about getting her cosmology license," said Nick. "Somebody should probably warn her that NASA and Paul Mitchell aren't competitors." They shared a laugh. Jake said, "Jesus, I really get annoyed with women. To this day, I have probably fucked over fifty different women in my life, and not one of them has been able to sustain my interest. Sandy came the closest. She did. But even so, I feel like there's this fundamental difference between men and women, and I can't connect with a woman all the time. I feel like I have to sacrifice a significant part of my manhood when I'm with a woman." "Here, here!" Nick raised his mug. Jake followed suit. "I don't want to end up like every other guy. I don't want to be the archetypal husband, with the house, and the committment, and the kids, and the nine to five job, and the mortgage." Nick was looking at Jake directly now. It may have been the first time, ever, that his friend was this vulnerable with anybody. And Nick watched as Jake lost himself in verbal thought. "I don't want that responsibility, man. I want to be able to play video games until two in the morning. I want to be able to move around the country. I don't want to have to get permission every time I go out. I want a fucking dog, you know? And the last three women I dated all hated dogs. They wanted those fucking little toy poodle pieces of shit. I'm like, those aren't dogs, you dumbasses. Those things are fucking pointless. I want a fucking lab, or German Shepherd, you know? I mean, I don't wanna end up alone or anything. I like the idea of having someone around. But every chick I meet, it's never them. They'd come into my life and castrate me. I'm just not built for that kind of mundanity, man." He took a giant gulp of his beer. "I don't want a wife, I want a friend." Nick didn't say anything. It wasn't the time for him to give adivce, or impart wisdom. Jake just needed him to listen, and that's what he did. "I need this," Jake continued, slapping Nick on the back. "I need to run away with my bud, you know? Wreck Vegas, drink, hit the clubs, fuck some chicks and make no promises, have a roadtrip, all of it. I need freedom." Nick took a sip of his beer. He could feel the warm river of alcohol shooting into his bloodstream. "I get it, man," he said. It occurred to him only a second later that Jake's hand was still resting on his back. Jake had large carpenter hands, rough and skilled. It was an impressive weight, for a hand, but Nick liked the way it felt on his shoulders. "What about you, dude?" Jake said, giving Nick's neck a palpable squeeze. "You searching for anything in particular?" Nick smiled. He always had an adorable smile. "Nothing in particular," he said. "Just whatever feels right, you know? I haven't had much luck with the ladies in my life. Love to fuck 'em, but can't stand being around them all the time. Estrogen doesn't mix too well with me, I guess." "It's too much, man." "Yeah," Nick downed the last of his beer. "There's a comraderie missing when it comes to women." "Exactly. That!" "It almost seems like going gay would be worth it." "As long as both guys were good friends, yeah, I'd get that." A weighted silence followed. They finally said it. They finally reached the tipping point in their conversation. Both their hearts were beating fast, and a million thoughts raided their minds. Was it the beer? Was it the Vegas energy? Or were Jake and Nick actually trying to communicate a deeply sewn desire, something neither of them had been truly conscious of until now? "Ah well," Jake said, sucking up the last drops of his beer. "At least my dick doesn't smell bad after I fuck a chick." He pushed out a strained laugh. "Although, seems that it's pretty much the only perk these days." With bellies full of beer, and a proper buzz, Jake and Nick paid their tab and made their way back to the strip. They coasted down the sidewalks, stopping only to admire the Bellagio fountain show before stumbling into their room at the Motel 6. Exhausted and spent, Nick stripped down and hopped in the shower to rinse off the day's sweat and beer and cigarette smoke. Jake, meanwhile, switched on the TV, flipping through until landing on a familiar show. When Nick stepped out of the bathroom five minutes later, wearing nothing but a snugly fitted pair of briefs, Jake took it as his cue to shower next. "Holy shit," Nick said, catching what was on TV. "Is this Cowboy Bebop?" "Yeah man." Jake was in the process of peeling his clothes off. "Fucking love this show." "I haven't seen it in years." Nick adjusted his man-pouch and stretched-out on the bed. He was so engrossed with the show that he almost didn't notice Jake's meaty cock and balls tumble out of his boxers as he stripped himself bare. Almost. The room suddenly filled with the smell of Jake. Nick remembered it very well. Yes, it was a distinct sea-salt aroma. A spicy-sweet male musk. Nick's nostrils flared the second Jake's fragrance hit him, and an all too familiar stirring roused his penis. Now butt-naked, Jake drifted into the bathroom, took a dump, showered, and stumbled out on the foot of the bed. "Shit, man, I'm more buzzed than I thought." He flashed a goofy grin at Nick, whose eyes were fixed on the prominent man flesh dangling freely from between his legs. "And I've been eating too much meat lately. That shit hurt coming out!" He giggled at his own comment, like a ten-year-old boy. "You don't mind if I sleep naked, do you, bud?" He crawled up onto the vacant space beside Nick and plopped down, face-first. "Not at all," Nick said, almost chokingly. He slipped out of his underwear and tossed it across the room. "I'll do the same. Be more free." Jake's bare ass was all Nick could look at. Like two golden mounds carpeted with glistening brown hair, Jake's butt was perfect in every way. It had been so long since Nick was able to stare, unhindered, at his buddy's ass that he couldn't quite take his eyes off it now. The TV--out of mind. Yawning, Jake stretched out his legs, which consequently opened up his butt cheeks and released a recognizably boyish scent into the room. Nick felt his eyes watering, the smell was so strong. Next, Jake's foot brushed lightly against Nick's and a jolt of electricity shot up Nick's leg and into his groin. He felt a burning in his belly, and a flicker in his heart. They were two guys--two warm, naked bodies--lying side by side in a bed. Jake on his stomach, face buried in his pillow. Nick on his back, his penis resting heavily on his lower-abdomen like a fallen tree. It was exhilarating just to be there, naked, in the same bed. Nick could feel the heat radiating off of Jake's body, he could practically see the steam rising off his ass crack, where his body heat was the most concentrated. And the smell of Jake's body, fuck! There was something about it, something unique. Nick grew up changing in boys' locker rooms, he lived in an all-boys dorm in college--he knew what guys smelled like. And undoubtedly, Jake carried the scent of your typical male. Still, Nick thought, his was different. It had a minty quality, a spicy quality, and up until that very moment, lying beside Jake, Nick had never realized just how much he treasured that smell. All of his fondest memories of his life were linked, inextricably, to Jake's scent. I want more of it, Nick thought. I want to get closer to him. I want--I want to smell like Jake myself! With his heart pounding, Nick tilted his head to peer over at Jake. Jake was sunk deep in his pillow, so only half of his face was visible. But, strikingly, Nick found that Jake's one eye--wide open--was staring right back at him. How long Jake had been looking at him, Nick didn't know. But he grew instantly nervous, because he had been drooling over the sight of Jake's bare ass just seconds before. He gave Jake a sheepish grin, trying to pass it off as something else--he didn't know what, but something--and returned his focus to the television. The next few minutes felt like an eternity. At least, they did for Nick. He did everything in his power to avoid Jake, but he could not deny the feeling of his buddy's eyes burning into the side of his head. He tried to watch the show, he tried to follow the plot, to remember the characters, but nothing, no matter how much of an effort, was registering with him. Nothing but his thumping heart and his electrically-charged cock and the feeling of Jake staring at him, watching him. But the moment everything changed was when Jake lifted himself off his pillow, leaned over, and kissed him. The world froze. The intensity, the passion, the sexuality, everything was a blaze unhindered. Nick made a small noise when their lips connected, as if he hadn't been expecting Jake to actually kiss him. And he hadn't. Though the sexual tension had been building between them ever since the bar, Nick didn't actually believe either of them would make a move. They were guys, they were friends--making a move was out of the question. Right? Out of the question? The kiss lasted a long time. In the time their lips were locked, the television show ended, another one began, and it, too, ended. Jake and Nick were still kissing. Their tongues wrestled, their saliva flowed between their mouths. It was as if they were making up for years of lost time. It was as if nothing in the world mattered aside from them, and slowly, they melted into each other. The taste of Jake's mouth was delicious. Finally. Fucking finally Nick knew what it was like to kiss his best friend. He could breathe in Jake's hot breath and taste the metallic beer on his lips. The scruff on their chins scraped against each other like sand-paper. It was a different feeling for Jake, but for Nick, who had kissed Clayton many times, it was a familiar sensation. Guys were known for being hairy. They were known for being rough. And although Jake wasn't used to the gruffness of making out with a dude, he quite enjoyed it. In fact, he loved it. In complete control, Jake slowly, gradually, worked himself on top of Nick. Their lips never separated, not even once. Jake crawled over Nick, shielding him, enveloping him--their fuzzy, naked bodies began to meld like forged steel. Their genitals were squished together, their pubic hair entangled. The bed creaked and groaned underneath them as their weight shifted. They were guys, and guys were heavy (especially when one was on top of the other). Nick found his hand sliding down the small of Jake's back and over the canyon of his ass. An incredible heat was rising up from his crack, from his anus, warming Nick's hand and tempting him to dig deeper. As Jake lowered all of himself onto Nick--their cocks and balls grinding--Nick could feel his buddy's weight for the first time. It was like having a lion sitting atop his chest. Jake was a solid slab of meat. He wasn't necessarily ripped, but he was sturdy. He was a sack of blood and organs and muscle, and his gravity was massive. Nick let out a small groan as his body was pressed deep into the mattress. His voice cracked ever so slightly as Jake cascaded over him. Jake tore his lips away from Nick, as if a sudden rip was the only way he could break the intoxicating bond, and threw Nick's feet up high in the air, exposing his fuzzy underside. Nick's entire belly contracted with heavy breathing. Resting vulnerably between his bare legs were his penis and testicles, sitting amidst a nest of hair, perfuming the air was a musky male scent. Beneath his sack, and clearly the target of Jake's hunt, was a trail of brown fuzz that ran straight down to a pulsing pink pucker. Jake stared down at Nick's yawning chasm, and there was a voracious hunger in his eyes. It had been so long since he last saw Nick's anus. What a sight for sore eyes, he thought. God, how he missed his buddy's ass--and he didn't even realize it until that moment. The smell of butthole wafted up from Nick, and Jake breathed it in with intense satisfaction. His nostrils flared and his eyes dilated and his mouth filled with an overflow of saliva. Like a leaky hose, his penis leaked a considerable amount of pre cum, which drizzled down on Nick's exposed anus like honey. For a brief, lightning-fast moment, their eyes connected. Nick knew what his buddy was aiming for, and Jake shot him a sly, hungry look before pressing the tip of his fleshy cock to the base of Nick's hole. There was no condom needed, they both knew. They were buddy's...best friends. Fucking a chick required safety, but fucking your bud--it could only be done bareback. Nick wanted Jake's DNA inside him, he wanted to feel the raw heat of his buddy warming him internally. Using only his precum as lube (and there was a substantial amount of it to use), Jake sank into his buddy's butt, and he continued sinking, his shaft of man flesh disappearing, inch after inch, as it sank all the way inside Nick, all the way to the base of his groin. Below him, practically sniffing his own feet, Nick let out a long, sexual groan. "Fuck, dude," Jake said, staring down into his bud's lacquer eyes. "You're so warm inside." Nick flashed a smile, but almost immediately his eyes rolled up into his head and he released a loud, boyish moan. The curve of Jake's dick, the bulbous shape of its head, everything about Jake's manhood was sending him into unrestrained rushes of pleasure. In Nick's rectum, Jake's penis was slipping and sliding over the fleshy wet knob of Nick's prostate. Nick's entire body trembled with electricity, and Jake scooped him up, holding him warm and tight. Their lips found each other again. Bucking his hips slowly at first, then faster as time went on, Jake picked up his pace. Beneath him, Nick found his body relaxing completely. He trusted Jake with his life, and Jake knew it. Jake was always the protector, and would be damned before letting anything bad happen to Nick. So it was no wonder Nick was practically putty as Jake fucked him deep. His anus was wide open, gaping and cavernous. It slurped and sucked at Jake's cock, determined to milk it dry. In pure ecstacy, Jake threw his head back and cried out. The room was filled with what sounded like a male chorus warming up before a show. Faster and faster Jake went, piston-fucking his buddy's ass, drilling deeper than any man's ever gone. At the sides of his head, Nick's toes flexed and curled as the head of Jake's penis slipped up into his colon. It was the most beautiful, spiritual experience of his life. His best friend was reaching a depth in him that no human had ever, or will ever, reach. This was something unique and special between them, and it would always stay that way. Jake had, at this point, practically climbed on top of Nick. Their bodies were contorted and tangled in inextricable ways. Nick's face was buried in Jake's armpit, and he breathed the musk of his buddy's hairy pit as if it were the last traces of oxygen on earth. Jake was balls-deep inside Nick's ass. His own ass was flying around in the air, his dark dot of an anus open and exposed just like his buddy's. To be clear, the room stank. It smelled of ballsacks and armpits. It smelled of feet and buttholes. It smelled of semen and penis and salty sweat and hairy taints. It smelled, specifically, of boys. And boys smelled acutely of sex. With his dick snugly wrapped in the wet warmth of Nick's anus, slipping in and out, sending his entire body in a tingle, Jake felt his testicles pull in tight to his body. A rush of fluids swirled fiercly inside his sack. Fire was shooting down the length of his shaft--the heat intensifying with every pump. "Oh God," Jake said. He wrapped his arms around Nick and held him close. "...Nick..." His voice cracked. "I...love you!" It was the most explosive orgasm he's ever known. It lasted a minute and a half and resulted in three table spoons of cum, thirty pumps, deep inside Nick's gut. At the same time, Nick's prostate had been so stimulated that he, too, shot his load all over his belly. Not once did he or Jake touch his cock. But, boy, did it wipe him out. With his cock still buried deep inside Nick's butthole, Jake collapsed on top of Nick. Freshly milked and superbly buzzed, Jake passed out almost right away. His face was wedged in between Nick and the pillow, his lips stuck against Nick's ear, his breath warming the side of Nick's face. Still folded up underneath Jake's massive body, Nick rested a few minutes more. He waited for Jake's penis to soften before squeezing it out. Then, gently, he readjusted his legs so that he, too, could pass out. And that's how they slept for the rest of the night. Jake flopped over on top of Nick, his legs spread wide apart, exposing his hole and his hairy sack and his flaccid, dripping cock, which was brown and greasy from fucking ass. Beneath him, Nick slept soundly, for Jake functioned as the perfect blanket. And though Jake's cum seeped out Nick's anus in small traces throughout the night, he didn't wake...not once. Yes, they both slept soundly indeed. When they woke the next day, it was just passed noon, and sunlight was streaming through the crack in the curtains. Nick was the first to rouse. As his mind swam in and out of focus, he looked over to find Jake sprawled on top of him--butt naked. It was fuzzy--literally and figuratively--what happened between them last night, but Nick had a pretty good idea. Soon, Jake snorted himself awake and came to the same sudden recognition of circumstances. He peered down at the brown-haired, brown-eyed boy underneath him and, though an initial wave of regret flooded him, he smiled. "Mornin'," he said groggily. Nick nodded, grunted. With massive arms, Jake started to lift himself off of Nick, but their bellies were stuck together. Nick had forgotten that he came all over his stomach and chest during their sex. They both shared a gruff laugh--a guy laugh--as they took a couple minutes to detach their stomachs and chest hair. As they sat up, got to their feet, they both exchanged ironic glances as it became immediately apparent that the roomed smelled terrible. Sure, the beer was an obvious scent, but on top of it, the evidentiary smells of their sex hung in the air like smoke. Jake looked down at his low-hanging dick. It was a shade darker--almost tan--and a potent smell rose up off it. "I think I fucked you last night, bud," he grumbled. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "Yeah," Nick rubbed his lower abdomen, which felt swishy and warm. "I can feel the aftermath." He made his way to the bathroom and locked himself inside. A moment later, he reemerged with a pair of briefs hugging his ass cheeks and genitals tight. "I think you came inside me, too. I just shit out your load." "Nice." Jake said, a trace of sarcasm floating on the dge of his words. He stepped into the shower, washed his junk, and climbed out to find a fully-dressed Nick standing at the foot of the bed, packing up his things. Jake, glumly, followed suit. Their check-out was at three. Nick took care of it and met Jake out at the car. Both of their stomachs were growling with hunger. "Wanna grab somethin' along the strip?" Jake suggested. "Sounds good to me." They made their way to a small diner near the Luxor hotel, ordered a mountain of eggs, sausage, and pancakes each, and two full-bellies later, found themselves sipping coffee in the booth, soaking in the vestiges of their vacation. It was quiet, it was peaceful...it was familiar. "Coffee's good," Jake said, cupping his mug as if it were a rare treasure. Nick mumbled something in agreement. Pinching the bridge of his nose in an effort to combat the lingering hangover, Jake said, "Sorry about last night, man. Didn't mean for it to get weird or anything." Nick's brain staggered, a bit. But he recovered. "Nothing to be sorry for," he said, trying to shrug it off. "We were drunk. Guys'll be guys, I guess." Jake chuckled. "You got that right." He stirred another pack of creamer into his coffee. "But still, I just want you to know how much you mean to me, dude. I would never want you to think I was taking advantage of you." Nick's eyes fell to Jake hands as they worked the spoon around the edge of the mug. The way his fingers handled the tool, the way they controlled it. His hands were enormous and rough, Nick had always admired his buddy's hands. They were the hands of a man, dexterous and strong--but gentle. Nick shook his head. "I don't think you were taking advantage of me, man." Though he was avoiding it, Nick could feel Jake's eyes on him. He did his best to pretend that nothing was different. And, perhaps, he believed it. "You know something funny?" Jake asked. "What?" "Fucking your ass is, in a way, better than fucking pussy. Feels better, you know? Feels...tighter." Though he dreaded it, Nick knew he was blushing. "I'm glad," he said. "I take enormous pride in my ass." "You should." A tender moment of quiet drifted between them, like the smoke after a candle it blown out. But soon, the quiet dissipated, and Jake chimed in again. "I meant what I said last night, Nick." His words were weighted, like lead. "When I said I loved you." Nick felt his heart thump against his breastbone. He looked up from his coffee. Their eyes met, truly, for the first time that day. Nick couldn't detected a note of playfulness in Jake's tone, nor could he see the usual flippant twinkle in his stare. Jake was being serious. "I know I was drunk off my ass," Jake went on, "but there was something really really great about being inside my best friend, kissing you, cumming in you. I've always felt like you were mine, you know? Like we were brothers, or something." He wrestled with a few thoughts. "I love you, man. And I know you probably have these dreams of marrying some chick and settling down and having kids one day, but if you ever, I don't know, wanted something else out of life--an alternative--I think it'd be nice to, I don't know, be with each other...like that. Maybe." At that point, Jake fell into a deep quiet, and it was clear that Nick needed to carry on. But Nick, imprisoned by his own paralysis, couldn't speak. He could hardly breathe. Sure, he always imagined himself getting married to a woman and having kids. Yes, that was what society conditioned him to aim for. He was a product of his own ideological state apparatuses, and settling down with his best bud, with Jake, was something he never really allowed himself to consider. Damn. Fuck! Inside him, the remnants of Jake's semen still drenched the lining of his guts. Jake's DNA was intermixing with his own, soaking into his bloodstream and marking him as a piece of property. He could feel his buddy existing within him, and it was the most warming, sexual feeling he's ever known. Across from him, Jake sat. He was six feet of hot male flesh and blood, muscle and organ--a sack of swirling testosterone. He was every girl's dream. He was the stud of his class, the guy that every guy wanted to be. And at that very moment, he was the most beautiful thing Nick's ever laid eyes on--and Nick was realizing this for the first time? Nick wanted more of Jake, he wanted to be absorbed by Jake, to be possessed by Jake. Jake was everything to him. Unable to put feelings into words, Nick did the next best thing he could think of. He reached over the table, grabbed Jake's head, pulled him in, and kissed him--hard. It was clear by Jake's eyes that he wasn't expecting it, but he soon melted into the kiss, and together, they held it. When their lips parted, Jake didn't waste any time. He got right to his feet, slammed a couple twenties on the table, and lifted Nick out of the booth. Nick laughed as Jake manhandled him, tossing him over the shoulder like a rag doll, so that Nick's ass was right beside Jake's face. Nick dangled there, on his buddy's shoulder, like a heavy sack of rice. "Come on," Jake said as he carried Nick through the diner's doors and out onto the street. "I'm gonna marry you, bud." And so that day, in a local Vegas chapel, Jake and Nick were legally wed. It was the last thing either of them expected from their trip, but perhaps the greatest decision of their lives. They drove back to their small Ohio town two days later (after an extended stay in Vegas, where they fucked until Nick's belly couldn't hold in any more of Jake's cum) to retreive their things. A week later, both of them were back on the road, heading for Portland, a place they had always wanted to live. Nick had a potential job opportunity there, and Jake, well, he could get a job just about anywhere. He was, after all, a man of many crafts. To this day, Jake and Nick live happily together. They have a small house on the outskirts of Portland, which Jake fixed up nice and maintains--for the most part. They have two German shepherds, both males, Templeton and Hamlet, and they spend a lot of their time going for walks and enjoying local hiking spots. Nick works as a weekly columnist for the paper, and Jake works for the local furniture store. He builds wooden furniture--he's quite the craftsman. They live well, and travel much. They play video games and watch porn, they like the same movies and eat the same food. And if ever they were asked, they would say, 'Yes, we still fuck chicks from time to time. We're husbands, but we're always buds. We understand that we won't always fulfill each others' sexual needs, so sex is something we enjoy with others, too. We're guys, after all. Guys enjoy variety every now and then. But we always come back together after our romps in the hay, and we're cool with that.' And even though they occassionally enjoy fucking women (and, every once in a while, a man or two), Jake still prefers Nick's tight ass over anything else. His penis has become permanently stained with the smell of his husband's rectum, but that was just fine. That was even...a turn on for him. He marked Nick when he came inside of him, and Nick marked him in return. They were one in the same, and Nick's ass was one of the greatest treasures Jake's ever known. The smell of it, the taste of it. Jake would spend hours rimming his husband, driving his tongue as far in as he could, eating and savoring the spicy pork flavor of Nick's anus. In return, Nick would spend hours sucking and licking his bud clean. And sure enough, after breeding Nick month after month, year after year, the two of them have traded in their unique individual smells for an identical one. Sniff either of their pits, and you would never be able to tell the difference between them. It was as if they truly had become one body. They're the best of buds, after all. Their home smells like anus and ballsack and armpit, but that's precisely who Jake and Nick are. They're guys, and they take immeasurable pride in each other and their home--for it smells, always, of hot male sex. THE END