Date: Mon, 27 Sep 2021 16:23:33 +0000 (UTC)
From: atlantisguy@aol.com
Subject: After Game Night  --  Part 1  (Adult Friends)

After Game Night — Part 1 (Adult Friends)

***Note that the following story is a work of semi-fiction, or maybe
"inspired by a true story." Part is 100% true, and part is fantasy, and I
leave it to the reader to determine which is which. Certain details have
been tweaked to protect the "innocent." By all means, send feedback along
to AtlantisGuy@aol.com***


After Game Night — Part 1


Nick's a great guy... hell, we're *both* great guys. But the thing is,
we're both... well, you know... *guys.* Which is why what happened that
night caught me so off guard.

To begin. Everyone calls me Buck, a play off my last name. I first met Nick
a few years back when I hired him. It was seasonal work for an organization
I worked for, as part of their summer festival—the kind of gig that
provided a massive amount of hours over a 2-month period, which made it a
popular summer job option for folks in college.  I had taken that track
myself and stayed with it, working my way up the chain of command and
scoring a permanent position on the full-time staff. At age 26, I had risen
to become the head manager, in charge of hiring, training and supervising
the event staff.

And I have to say I was in the prime of life. Far out enough from college
to have my shit together, but still young enough that there were wide-open
possibilities for life. I worked out fairly regularly to keep myself in
good shape, coming in at 6 feet tall, with a trim athletic build covered
with a dusting of body hair I never bothered to manscape. With good looks
and an upbeat personality, I was popular within my social circles and had
notable luck with the ladies. I tried to keep a professional look going for
work, but at heart I was a scruffy, T-shirt and jeans kind of guy. All in
all, life was good.

Hiring for the summer was a whirlwind. Because we had to hire a sizable
number of people in a short period of time, we ran group interviews, with
me and a couple other co-workers I brought in to get feedback on the
applicants. All was going well, perfectly mundane and orderly... and then
Nick came in for his interview.

His effect on the two women sitting in on the interview
was... considerable, and juuuuuust this side of embarrassing. As for me?
Well, I never thought of myself as anything but a perfectly normal,
red-blooded straight guy... but even I gaped. He was the living embodiment
of the All-American Guy. He was handsome, at that exact middle point
between being a pretty boy and a rugged hunk. His eyes were... I dunno,
*bright.* With a killer smile. And it was clear from the way his clothes
hung on him that he had a strong athletic frame. More than anything, there
was an air of casual, effortless masculinity about him. And loads of
friendly charm.

Nick also had an air of... cockiness? going on. Certainly confidence. We
learned he was part-way through law school, and he gave off a vibe that he
was *very* comfortable in his opinions, and that any argument was his for
the winning. Not exactly a red flag, but notable. I took a chance and hired
him; when I told the others who helped interview him, one of the women gave
me a lurid grin, and made a pointed request to let her know if he ever got
"naughty" and needed to be "disciplined."

Once the summer season got under way, I started to have second thoughts
about my new hire Nick. What read as "confidence" in the hiring process
became "being insufferable" during the work shifts. Jesus, the man argued
about *everything.* He always had "better" ideas and was a walking
suggestions box. Everyone was rapidly losing all patience with him.

In one of my better moves as a supervisor, I decided to take a different
approach with Nick. Ok... if he was going to bristle against authority and
loudly announce how our systems were all screwed up, why not make him put
his money where his mouth was. One day, I approached him at the start of a
shift and said, "Hey Nick, let me ask you something. You know the supply
tent is a nightmare. We try to organize it, but it ends up being trashed
again by the end of a shift. We need to organize it so folks can get to the
supplies fast, but it needs to be set up so that it *stays* organized and
is easy to maintain. How would you go about it?"

Put this way, as a problem we trusted him to fix, and I swear the guy was a
better problem-solver than MacGyver. He *threw* himself into the project
and totally changed how we organized everything, leading to massive
time-savings. Doing inventory became... fun. And soon he was doing this
with every idiot project we dropped in his lap to keep him busy.

And along the way, he went from being a jerk to being among our more
popular employees. I think it was a case where once he felt like he was
being valued, he became more comfortable in his skin and stopped trying to
"prove" himself all the time. He relaxed, and the real Nick came out. He
went from being a know-it-all to just an interesting guy, with a huge range
of interests and quirky tastes.

Over time, we actually became pretty good friends, and stayed in contact
well after the summer ended and he headed back to law school. We weren't
what I'd think of as best friends, and we had our own social circles, but
when we did get together we'd have a blast. We both dreamed about
travel. He had absolutely thrown himself into becoming a grill master, and
we started comparing notes on new, improved rubs and sauces as he worked
out his various ideas. Similarly, I had starting branching off into making
hand-made, craft cocktails, and he enthusiastically sampled my latest
mad-scientist concoctions and provided helpful feedback.

Time passed. A few years later, after I found the perfect girl, Nick and I
were still close enough that I invited him my wedding... and a year or so
after that he returned the favor for his.  We had the kind of friendship
where we didn't see each other for long stretches at a time, but when we
did meet back up things fell right into place. It also helped that our
wives got along, too.

Nick and I had been in one of those quieter, low-power phases when out of
the blue I got a message from him. A good friend of his named Greg was
trying to organize a weekly game night with another of their
friends... would I have any interest in rounding out the foursome?

I contemplated. I knew Greg somewhat; our paths had crossed professionally
a few times, and I knew him to be a good guy. It could be fun. But I was
also very much aware that I hadn't played board games for years... I had no
idea about these new, hard-core games with a zillion pieces and rule books
as thick as a novel. But in the end, I was intrigued enough to agree. Guys,
after all, are horrible at making friends after college, and as much as I
loved my wife, I was looking forward to male companionship... where we
could drink a bit too much, eat food that would rot our guts, swear a bit
too loudly, and generally be ourselves.

I agreed, and Game Night was on!

And in short order Game Night was a cornerstone of our lives. All in all,
it was a good group of guys, with us four regulars and a shortlist of
"extras" who drifted by as they could. We agreed to a fixed, recurring
night every week, and with rare exceptions stuck to it.

And... well, one of the reasons I loved my pack of hoodlums was that we
ended up being *there* for each other. No matter how brutally competitive
we were on the gameboard, no matter how many red-faced shouting matches we
got into, we were always bedrock in each other's' corner. As time went by,
we helped each other navigate layoffs, personal disputes, and the birth of
a couple of kids. But we didn't do so in that gauzy, bubble-bath way that
women support each other. I mean, we almost always talked about our
problems indirectly; the more personal it was, the more studiously we
fiddled with the dice or worker tokens. The more pain involved, the less
eye-contact we made. And yet in our indirect, manly way we had each other's
backs... all the while studiously doing something else. Plus, we kept up
rough language, spilled drinks, ball-busting, trash talking, and humor that
would have had to be considerably elevated to be considered "low."

And through it all, Nick and I keep up a strong friendship of our
own. Outside Game Night we'd continue to shoot each other news stories or
movie clips if we thought the other one would be interested. Our wives
became friends, and more than once we would do all rounds of bar trivia. I
also sometimes got the vibe that he... huh, I don't know quite how to
explain it. Like he really looked up to me, like a big brother thing. I
chuckled that he seemed to feel that way; I had only been his boss for like
3 months, nearly 10 years previously.

One evening, Game Night got all changed up. Greg, the usual host, had to
give way, as his in-laws were in town to dote on Greg's son, and a crew of
loud guys ragging each other about this or that misplayed move was in no
way going to fly at his house. That week, my wife was going to be out of
town for a long weekend, so we shifted to my place, with Greg getting a
temporary Leave of Absence to join us. We ended up moving Game Night to
Friday night to take advantage of my empty house. Well, at least Nick and I
could take advantage of it... neither of us had kids to rouse us out of bed
at dawn. I appreciated one particular aspect about hosting--I was free to
get shit-faced on my own cocktails for a change. I ordered up a shit-ton of
Chinese food for us to devour, and got the house ready.

The crew was in excellent form. But as it turned out, that week's game
ended up moving faster than usual. After a relatively quick round, Greg
decided he should high-tail it back to tend to his inlaws—always a wise
move—and our other regular, Dave, decided to call it a night as
well. Nick held back for bit, which I didn't mind at all. As a proper host,
I offered to refresh his adult beverage, and somewhat to my surprise he
eagerly took me up on it. I got the idea he wasn't keen on heading home.

Clinking glasses, we launched into a loud, opinionated discussion of a
sci-fi novel I had just read at his recommendation. Well into our drinks,
our back-and-forth rang out with a few too many cries of "Here's where
you're wrong!" for polite company, but was expected among good friends. But
I noted that as we talked, his comments had more of an... edge to them. And
there was... a bit more intensity in his eyes. What started as playful
banter ended up getting... awkward.

After a pause, he breathed out heavily and said, "Sorry Buck, I started
treating you like a hostile witness. My bad."

"Nah, we're good," I responded easily. "Anything going on? You didn't seem
yourself while we were playing." I didn't point out that it was somewhat
unusual for him and I to hang out *after* Game Night. I mean, I didn't mind
hanging out with him. Not at all.

Nick was quiet for a second, reached for his drink and bit back a taste of
it. He gave a sigh that was a curious mix of exasperation, frustration, and
general weariness, and said, "Oh, just the usual guy complaint. Sarah has
completely shut me down." He paused, looking anywhere else. "You know, in
bed."

"Ouch. Sorry man," I responded, and diligently studied my drink. After a
few beats of silence, I looked up at him again. "Can I ask how long?" I
said with a wince that carried into my voice.

"Since Valentine's Day."

I blurted out a response without thinking. "Wait, what? A great guy... a
great *looking* guy like you?" Damn. I mentally kicked myself... that
probably only made him feel worse. I shifted gears. "I'm sorry,
man. Just... sorry. Not even like a blowjob?"

Nick gave me a frank look that dripped with frustration. "Blowjob? Are you
kidding me? Is there *any* wife who gives out a blowjob? Man, those dried
up a couple years ago. And I don't even know if I can complain, as she
*clearly* wasn't into it. Although she likes it just fine when I go down on
her. *Pffffft!*" That last part was accompanied by an eye-roll so intense
it about caused structural damage to my ceiling.

"Yeah, I hear you," I commiserated. "Nan's not into it
either. Or... particularly skilled."

We both looked meaningfully at each other and started to snicker... before
erupting into all-out gales of laughter. "Fuck man, what the hell is *with*
that?" Nick asked, with a sense of wonder.

"Man, I have *no* idea. But Jesus... all they do is a couple of weak bobs
and say, 'My turn!' Don't they know that if they put just a tiny bit of
effort into it, the guy would eat out of her hand for the rest of his
life?"

"Seriously!" Nick agreed, with indignation ringing in his voice. He went
on. "But... I thought she liked the *other* stuff we did—so did I. But
that's petered out, too. And now she's thinking of letting her sister stay
with us for awhile to get on her feet. I mean, the last shreds of intimacy
just flew out the window."

"Well, I guess that's why God gave us online porn," I offered up
helpfully. Nick looked at me with a knowing twinkle in his eye. Maybe it
was the booze. Maybe it was because talking about sex when my wife was out
of town had gotten my own juices flowing.

But for some reason, I went on.

Laughingly, I said, "Well, if you can't get action with women, you can
always try getting it on with another guy! You know we'll never say 'no!'"

Nick laughed, but made a hurt face and fired back, "Hey, now... what are
you saying!"

"Oh come on. You were part of a frat in college, right? Wasn't that just
one big gay orgy?"

Nick winced; with a combative sneer, he leaned forward to put his drink
down. "Wait, wait, wait, wait *wait.* Why the hell do people always think
that? C'mon, Buck, that is *totally* not how it goes down."

"Oh please," I egged him on. "Are you saying *nothing* ever happened?"

"Man... noooooo."  He looked off, middle distance, with a bemused
expression and went on. "Ok, so I can't say absolutely, positively nothing
ever-ever-ever happened. I mean, guys are sexual creatures, and who knows
what goes on behind closed doors. Ok, odds are *someone* was likely gay,
and *someone* was likely curious. Or *someone* had a bad idea when
drunk. But honest to God, it was just not part of the scene. That shit
isn't real."

He tilted his head to the side for a second, and kept going. "I mean,
there's always some kind of sexual... *something* in the air. Guys are
naked all the time. And guys were throwing their dicks onto a pizza for
laughs, or sticking their bare asses in the faces of guys who fell asleep
on the couch. But there was never... intent. It was only to be funny, or to
be nasty, or to one-up each other. It was never about... well, sex. Maybe
there was curiosity, but really... when you spend all that time together,
you really do become brothers. It would just feel... off. I never did
anything, and I don't know of anyone who did."

I nodded, considering. It was... strange. Maybe it was the booze, but I
found myself... intensely curious about Nick's narrative. In part, because
I had never really had known anyone close enough to have a... well, nuts
and bolts conversation about guys getting it on. I mean, I had had gay
co-workers, and even gay friends within my circle before, but no one close
enough to really have a real conversation about all this.

And at the same time, I realized with a strange mixture of emotions that I
had been particularly interested to know if Nick himself had had any
experiences. I mean, I'd been curious about what it would be like going to
town with a guy, but I'd never in a million years make a move. Nick was, I
freely admit, the sexiest guy I knew. There was a particular voyeur
interest if *he'd* ever made the plunge. Something inside me wished... that
he had.

There was a pause, as I continued to nurse my feelings, and Nick continued
to stare off.  Something seemed to be tickling the back of his
mind. Finally, he continued, in a lighter, musing tone. "You know, there
was one guy who hung around the house every once in a
while. I... think... I think he was the brother... no, the step brother of
one of the guys. A year or two older. He... I think he liked me."

My excitement flared again. "I'm sure about it stud... you're the hottest
guy I know!" I was ribbing him, but being perfectly honest. Although part
of me winced that I sounded, you know... too eager.

"Stand down, Buck," he fired back. "*You're* the hot one. God, that summer
we worked together, all the women were fighting to get on your shift, so
they could sit around and drool. The rest of us never had a shot!"

I was so completely stunned by his out-of-the blue, off-the-cuff response,
that I just sat there. Blinking. He thought... *I* was the hottest guy
around...? What the...?

Nick went on, as if he had never dropped that bombshell in my lap. "No,
this guy *liked* me, and even made a move on me. It wasn't a bad one,
either." Nick smirked at the memory. "Good looking guy, but I wasn't
interested, not at all my type, and let him down easy. He then pivoted with
barely a thought, and became my wingman. Whenever he was in town. He
was... amazing, best wing man I ever had. If a gay guy ever offers to do
that, you take him up on it."

I laughed, and raised my glass to this long-past wingman, as I took a deep
gulp. This conversation was... giving me a lot to think about.

Nick picked up his own drink and nursed it thoughtfully for a moment. "I've
never really said this, but... aw, hell. Nevermind."

"No, what...?" I pushed him, suddenly finding myself *intensely* curious
about where this was going.

"Well..." He sighed lightly. "I guess it's just that... well, I *was*
curious. A little. Not much, and not enough to do anything about it. I've
never done anything with a guy, but I think all guys... wonder." I grunted
in assent. "I think it was later where I realized that that was probably my
only chance. I mean, I'd never have the balls to hit on a guy myself. But
maybe it would have been... good. Maybe I've been missing
something. Just... I've thought about it. Not of *him*... but what it would
be like."

That comment, so casually tossed off, ripped through my mind, bringing my
whole being into focus. So, Nick was... curious about things. Well, at
least he *had* been. My mind flashed as I realized in concrete terms that
it wasn't just me who had wondered. I mean... well, logically, I would
assume that every guy did at some point in his life, but it was a very
different thing to have my hot buddy openly admit to the specifics.

But there was more. As Nick's story swirled in the back of my own mind,
something I had not thought of in a very long time suddenly started
bubbling up. "Well, as long as we're being honest here..." I took another
drink of liquid courage, and set my glass down before continuing. "It's
funny, but something like that happened to me back in college, too.  I was
good friends with a couple of guys who were roommates. I would swing by
their dorm every now and again... and... this guy lived next door to
them. They were all friends... you know, neighbors and all. And he was
gay. Out and everything, totally gay. As it turned out, this neighbor and I
were both in one of those big lecture classes. And... long story short,
I... I found out he liked me. Like, *liked* me."

"Hot guy like you, of course he did!"

Again, the comment caught me off guard. It was weird, as he was likely only
busting my chops, but... for some reason I was distracted as I
continued. "Well, yeah, I guess. So he had a thing for me. And there was no
way I was going to take him up on it... I was trying to run down this other
hottie, and I was like 'hell no I'm not gay!' But... *whew.* If I am
perfectly honest, I wondered about him too. About... us. About what a
couple of guys would do. But that kinda freaked me out. And he... kinda
freaked me out. I... feel bad. It was my first time experiencing anything
like this, and I think I overcompensated. Not that I started gay-bashing
him or anything, but just kinda... ran away. And the thing is, even at the
time I knew what a pussy I was being. I wasn't going to catch 'being gay'
from him... or anyone else. Over time, I calmed down, got a grip on myself
and grew up. Certainly no problem with gay guys now. But... yeah. Looking
back, I wonder if I missed my one-and-only chance. My golden opportunity to
try something. And now it's too late."

I slid into silence, my mind swimming in memories. But there was more... I
can't believe I was telling Nick this. Telling *any* guy this, but
especially not Nick. It felt like there was a surge of adrenaline coursing
through my body right now. It was... fucking liberating talking about
this. And having this hot guy affirm my stories, and share similar stories
of his own.

And in fact, if I had to be honest... this whole conversation was stirring
me in other ways. My wife Nan and I had also been going through a stage
where I wasn't getting my sexual needs taken care of. This talk of
sex—of a very different kind of sex, of a forbidden, exciting kind of
sex—was having an effect on me.

I don't know if it was adrenaline rushing through my system, or
testosterone. And that was a curious thought indeed.

"Yeah," Nick said, absently, filling the silence. There was another long
pause, as we both reflected. Was he feeling the same things I was?
Finally, he broke the silence, moving the conversation forward. "So... if
you had the chance now... with a guy... would you?"

That certainly was a question. One I'd turned over in my mind a few times,
and several times tonight. I mean, again... I'm sure every guy thinks about
it at some point. But I've always seen myself as straight. Not that there's
anything wrong with being gay, I just... that wasn't me. I hung out with my
buddies and... did guy stuff with them. I was a guy. And that
meant... well, what did it mean? Somewhat by instinct, I gingerly answered
Nick's question. "I... dunno. I mean, my whole life I've been trained to
just say 'no,' but who knows, when it gets down to it.  You?"

"I know what you mean. Probably, though."

"Seriously?"

"Not gonna lie. A while back, I opened up some porn and was taking care of
business, and scrolling through some threeways. One finished up and it
autostarted a new one, but instead of a guy and 2 girls, it ended up being
a girl with 2 guys. I didn't know what to think at first... and then I was
watching it. I mean... *watching* it. I didn't know what to think. Finally,
I skipped to a new one, but... that video wasn't all bad. It was like
something I never thought about before. I haven't gone back to shit like
that, but..."

I squirmed somewhat. "Huh," was all I could muster up. "Yeah... I mean,
I've checked out stuff like that, too. But I..."

Nick cut me off, looking at me with impish glee. "Hah! Not even trying to
hide it?"

"Well... c'mon. It was just once, and this one guy..."

He laughed, reveling in my sudden discomfort, and my attempts to shut him
up only made it worse.  Nick blurted out "Ha! 'This *one* guy?'" He went in
a sing-song voice, "Buck's got a boyyyy-friend. Buck's got a
boyyyyy-friend." He reached over and tried to pinch my nipple.

"Fuck you! *You're* the perv! You brought all this up!" I laughed, slapping
his hand away. He tried to grab my hand... and in a flash, we were
wrestling right there on our couch, like a pair of obnoxious pricks from
back in the day. As we grappled, I realized something. As our arms strained
for a better hold, my face was pressed tight against his collarbone, and
I... felt him. I mean, really *felt* him.  We weren't the kind of friends
who hugged, and this was the first chance I ever remember really feeling
his body. The strength... the hardness of his muscles. So unlike my
wife. The... *stature* of him. The substance. Strong. Vital. Alive. And
with a restless energy so unlike a woman's.

But also, from that position I... breathed him in. I caught his scent,
unmistakable. It was a guy scent, familiar to anyone who has been in a
guy's dorm, apartment, or locker room. But it was... *him.* Him on a primal
level. The scent... stopped me.

Which was a disaster, as it distracted me enough that Nick was able to
nearly flip me. As one of my legs went sprawling, I laughingly shouted out
"Watch the drinks!"

We collapsed, him on top of me, each of us unable to pummel the other guy
because we were laughing so hard. Just holding each other. Laughing. And
panting. The laughter slowly started to die away, but the panting
continued. It felt... good. I don't know how to describe it except that at
an elemental level, it just felt... good.

I was dimly aware that we were a jumble of limbs. I had no interest in
straightening out, I just wanted to savor the touch of him. As he moved his
hands, something... weird... happened. We slowed down, no longer battling
for grip and dominance. We were just... running our hands over each
other. It caught me off guard, and my breathing became sharper. It
was... confusing. But before I could properly respond, Nick's hand moved
again, my skin tingling with electricity all the way.

And then it wasn't my skin tingling with electricity... it was my
crotch. As my dick roared to life. Oh my fucking GOD. It felt sooooo
fuuuuucking...

Wait. What the fuck. The reality of everything hit me, and I unthinkingly
went on the defense. I fucking *jumped* off the couch. Still somewhat in a
crouch, trying to hide my bulge. My breathing coming out in short, anxious
bursts.

Our eyes locked. Dumbfounded, I blurted out, "Whoa. Sorry. Drunk hands,
man."

Even before I finished my nonsensical babbling, he was cutting me
off. "Yikes, that was getting personal!" He breezily tossed off, with
forced casualness. We looked anywhere but at each other.

Finally, I looked over and stared at him for a wordless minute. The shock
of what happened had worn off. I was left with a maelstrom of
emotions... and physical feelings. So many things all at once... but as the
moments lengthened, I was struck by the fact that whatever my instinctual
response was saying, I really *had* been into everything that happened. No
way I could deny it. Fuck no... it wasn't just "not denying it," I fucking
loved it. In fact I hadn't felt this revved up in... *years.* Our
conversation had opened up a floodgate of complicated memories. About paths
not taken. And however much I tried to spin things... those paths still
beckoned today.

But more than that, I was feeling... unexpected feelings with Nick. I was
never really tempted by that guy back in college because there wasn't
anything... *there* between us. But Nick and I had a connection. A trust. A
bond.

And he was the hottest guy I knew.

So when it was *his* hand roaming across my body... Fuck.

It occurred to me at that moment that we had both been remarkably quiet,
for several minutes now. And yet... neither of us had moved. Was he going
through the same whip-lash bout of emotions I was?  I cautiously ventured
out, "You're still thinking about that, aren't you?"

He continued studiously looking away, but gave a little snort and a
half-grin... almost like he was blowing off the very idea. Almost like a
sneer, but without the malice. He looked me in the eye for a moment, then
went back to staring at his whiskey, with a couple of low chuckles that I
felt rather than heard.

Pause.

Pause.

Pause.

By this point we were clearly at an impasse. I have no idea what finally
broke inside of me, allowing me to say what I said next.  "Ok, look. We're
both curious. And we're both a couple of pussies too afraid to make the
first move." He gave out a few silent chuckles. "But we've both had a
couple of drinks. And we're both our wives have left us feeling the
need. So I have an idea. We're gonna try something that won't force either
of us to be 'first.' We're gonna go into my bedroom, strip down, and 69."

His head turned toward me with eyes the size of dinner plates, too stunned
to speak.

I continued. "No one makes the first move, we do the same thing at the same
time. No one is the other's bitch, the other guy's cocksucker. No one has
potential blackmail over the other one, no one chickens out. You in? I'm
horny as fuck."

Nick just stared at me for a second, but finally he started a low bout of
laughter, with his face starting to flush. "Jesus Buck, you're ready to
jump into the deep end, aren't you? Man, I was thinking we were just gonna
whip them out, play doctor... 'You show me yours, I'll show you mine' kinda
thing.  But you're serious."

I stood up, looking at him with an open leer. "You in?"

After barely a heartbeat, we were in a dead sprint for my bedroom.

The light from the hallway provided enough light to work with, but the
darkened bedroom still gave us a bit of... privacy. Maybe a vague sense of
anonymity. Which, given how nervous we were, probably helped. We both
frantically started ripping off our clothes, as a surge of hormones started
making my fingers clumsy. I think my hands were shaking with anticipation.

In the shadows, I watched Nick pull off his clothes with laser
intensity. It was weird... I had seen God knows how many guys remove a
T-shirt in my time. But this was something... extraordinary. There had
never been a crackle of sexual energy with any of those other guys. First,
I realized that in all our socializing, I had never seen him with his shirt
off. But... how he *did* it was a total rush. Familiar, and unexpected. As
guy, Nick pulled off his shirt entirely differently than a woman
would. Than my wife would. There was a brashness to it. A sexual
confidence. A *male* confidence.

And it was heightened by the fact that my buddy had a hairy, gorgeously
masculine chest. Maybe even more hairy than me, and I always thought *I*
had some fur. He had fat nipples, surrounded by the nest of hair that
spread out across his pecs. Wild hair, untamed, and clearly not
manscaped. His belly was also hairy, suggesting a full man bush below his
waistline. As he swept the shirt over his head, I saw a flash of his
armpits, similarly bursting with curly hair. Fuck... even in the dim light,
I could see my man Nick was a fucking masculine *god.*

We both hungrily watched each other's crotches as we stripped down out of
our jeans. We both had full bushes, which made me smile. My wife Nan had
groused for years that she wanted me to shave down there, but I wouldn't
hear of it. I was thrilled my buddy was of a same mind.

And fuck if he didn't have one *hell* of a cock.

He was good sized, like 8-9 inches. Standing straight as a spear, with a
cockhead like a spearpoint. Fuck, that thing looked like a lethal
weapon. Supported by a pair of hairy bull balls that I could tell were
boiling over with spunk.

Nick was staring at me just as intently... and possibly with a bit of
shock. I wasn't nearly as long as him, but I was *thick.* And I had a
flared mushroom head that made me look even more intimidating. He looked
back up at me with a shit-eating grin and blurted out "Fuck man! I had no
idea you were so big! You're a fucking porn star!"

"You've got a mouthful there yourself, stud! Jesus, Sarah doesn't worship
that thing? She's fucking nuts!"

We both stopped, standing in front of each other naked as jaybirds, and we
both reflexively started stroking our rock-hard dicks. I looked him
straight in the eye, and said, "Are we doing this?"

"Fuck yeah."

"C'mon." I got onto the bed and propped myself onto my side, still stroking
myself with my cock as I beckoned him to join me with a jerk of my head. I
was nervous as fuck, but that was completely swept away by the fact that I
was as excited as I think I'd ever been in my life. Nick gingerly joined
me, trying to mirror my position. I could tell he was boiling over with
nerves and hormones himself. I reached over and grabbed his hip, sparking a
slight flinch from him, but then I pulled his hairy crotch toward my
face. He did the same.

I was immediately hit by the scent of him. A musky funk from his bush, made
strong by his excitement and the lateness of the hour. I thought it would
be a turn off, but I swear his scent awoke something inside me. Something
primal, I had never felt before. I realized again just how... *different*
it was being with a guy.  I loved eating my wife out—any woman out,
really—and associated it with a particular scent. This was
darker. Richer. Powered by hormones... the same hormones that flooded my
own body, and seemed to call out to those inside of me. It was a
familiarity. And a call to arms. I thought I was hard before, but Jesus his
musk was firing turbo-thrusters in my libido.

And that cock of his! It was so fucking epic, a tower of masculinity. Wet
with precum. Fuck. I had never had such a personal encounter with another
guy's dick. This was so fucking intimate... I felt closer to a guy than I
ever had before, or really had a right to. He was trusting me with his
junk. And that thing was the weapon of war, raw masculinity. The essence of
Man.

I needed him. I needed that masculinity... something I never thought I'd
say. "OK. On the count of three, we go. Ready?" I saw his head
nod. "One... two... THREE!"

And that next moment was one of the best of my entire life.

I mean fucking hell... he just swallowed me down, and in that split second,
I could tell this was going to be the best blowjob of my entire life. He
*knew* what to do. He didn't have experience, but he had lived through and
endless parade of mediocre blowjobs himself, and knew what a man *really*
wanted. What he needed. Fuck, it was just the *pressure* of his lips, the
suction as he took me in... God, someone finally sucking like he *meant*
it. None of that womanly bobbing around, he fucking *sucked* me. Jesus
Christ I was in heaven. And it just got better, the suction sealed me in
the ring of fire as his lips slid down my shaft, his tongue instinctively
rolling around the edge of my super-sensitive head. Holy fuck I was in
heaven, and I let out an appreciative, throaty growl in utter gratitude.

But as they say, "wait... there's more!" Having his own monster cock in my
mouth was unexpectedly driving me crazy. Like him, I didn't have the
practice, but knew what would get his butter churning... force, sucking
like you meant it. I pulled his flared mushroom head into my mouth and
fucking went to town, determined to give my buddy the best blowjob of *his*
life, the same he was doing for me. God, it was such a surreal
experience... his cock was both harder and softer than I would have
guessed, with his head easily fitting in my mouth as I quickly realized
that given his length, there was likely no way I could drive down all the
way to his hairy base. But holy fuck... his scent, his *taste* were driving
me crazy... he was spewing precum like a faucet, a sure sign he was
excited.

And that's when it hit me... he was *really* excited. And totally fucking
into it. There was this shared moment--a shared intimacy?—between us
unlike anything I experienced with a woman. There was no duty, no sense of
getting through this to get to something else, there was wild joy and
appreciation. At first, his hands started off only lightly touching
me... tentative, nervous. His torso was similarly rigid. And I was much the
same... uncertain, unfamiliar. But in only a few seconds we realized how
fucking hot this was, how fucking horny we were, and how fucking *into*
each other we were, and inhibition died fast. Our hands were suddenly all
over each other, savoring the feel of each other. God, the hardness of his
muscle, the slight burn of his hairy body set my fingers tingling. I pulled
him into me, my fingers digging deep into the hard muscles of his butt. He
did the same, not taking "no" for an answer, hungrily exploring me. And our
torsos, and crotches started grinding against each other. Wanting
more. Hungry for attention. Loving every second of the other guy's
mouth. Fuck. Nick growled in appreciation and my cock vibrated in his
mouth. Oh my fucking God.

At the same time, we both started diving down each other's hard cock,
taking as much of the other as we good. Hard, thick strokes. Faster,
faster, and we started fucking each other's mouths in response. Unable to
drive down his whole shaft, I started jerking him roughly, my spit running
down his cock.

Nick sucked me down hard, but then pulled back and went after my hairy
balls. Roughly mouthing each one, and sucking it into his maw, stroking my
dick as he did so. Fuck! I loved having my balls worked over! I mirrored
him, burying my face in his hairy bush, nursing his balls with as much
relish as he did mine. Holy fuck, the musk from him filled my nose and I
could not breathe his scent in fast enough... I thought for a second I was
going to hyperventilate. This was the fucking smell of *sex*. Raw masculine
sex, driven by raw masculine power.

And it hit me--this was all so different from getting it on with a
woman. And not just the mechanics of all. We were *driving* each
other... pushing each other, and doing so in an intensely physical way that
no woman could match. It was like wrestling... or playing one-on-one,
knowing the last point was going to settle a long-running bet. We were
loud, rough, crude... and fucking loving every minute of it.

We were both firing on all cylinder, and driving each other out of our
minds... there was no way we could last long. Sure enough, I sensed Nick's
body getting ready to blast... his muscles started tensing and his balls
were pulling up. I switched back to take his dick in my mouth, and drove
down again and again, as fast and hard as I could, again and again. Again
and again. Nick pulled off me and gave the familiar warning "I'm gonna
shoot!" He thought I was going to be like a woman and pull off.

No fucking way I would do that to my buddy.

Without even wasting time to tell him what I was doing, I went after his
cock harder than before, jacking him to his base as I fucked the shit out
of him with my mouth. Again and again. Again and again. His hands grabbed
my skull in a death grip, and fucking let fly. I drove down as far as I
could... and felt the volcanic eruption of his release. Cum blasted out
again and again. I couldn't hold it all in, and desperately tried to
swallow it down... but even so the overwhelming pressure forced me to open
my mouth and let his spunk surge out and down his shaft. It
was... salty... with a weird taste that I didn't expect. That said, it
tasted *good.*

We were both panting, and somewhat taken aback by what had happened. Never
in my life had I actually picture myself in that position. Fact is, years
back I would have given a good right hook to a guy who would have
*suggested* I would have been in that position. But here I was, feeling a
sense of... accomplishment. Of satisfaction. Of liberation. And yet... it
was so... weird. Unfamiliar.

It also occurred to me that Nick, in the moment of passion, and neglected
my own hungry cock, which was crying out for attention. I was lying there,
my cock pulsing with need, dripping with his spit. Was... was he going to
have cold feet? Was he going to be freaked out? Was he going to... well,
let's face it, do the typically male thing and say that now that he had
shot, we were all done?

He rolled slightly to his side and reached back to slowly jack my
slicked-up cock. But rather than go down on me again, he looked at
me. Just... *looked* at me. With an expression I couldn't quite make
out. Finally, he gave a lopsided smirk, and said, "This is probably my only
chance. There's something else I wanna try. Something I've been thinking
about. You trust me...?"

God I needed to get off. Fuck yeah, I trusted him.

He rolled me slightly, so that I was now laying flat on my back. He flipped
himself around... and to my utter astonishment lifted a leg over my hips,
straddling me. Kneeling, with his knees on the bed facing me, right at my
hips...

What the fuck??!? Was he...?

He still had an unfathomable smirk on his lips, staring at me with an
intensity I had never seen. He reached behind him and grabbed my cock, and
started sliding it in his asscrack.

My heart was pounding so hard I thought my neck was going to explode. My
buddy... sliding my rock-hard cock towards his hole...

My tip was wet with spit and precum, as he slowly ran it around his
puckered hole. Fuck. FUCK. I could see his hairy chest rise and fall... he
was panting as hard as I was. Finally, he got lined up, and leaned back
against my cock...

Holy FUCK!

I just, *just* slid inside his hole, just the tip. And it was hotter than
anything I had ever experienced. Hot in terms of heat, but the
excitement. The hunger. Holy fuck. HOLY FUCK! I wanted more, *much*
more. But his smirk turned more into a grimace, and he pulled back... just
as I wanted him to push deeper. He wasn't one to give up easily, and he
lined us up again, and pushed harder again. Nothing much happened... he was
tight as a drum. He tried again, and with no further success, pulled back
further, sitting more upright. He violently spat into his hand, and reached
back behind to give himself more lubrication. He leaned back again, and we
pushed together...

...and with a pop my cockhead final broke through, spearing him.

We both gasped.

It was the tightest hole I'd ever experienced... worlds different from any
pussy I'd ever fucked. He held my cock in a vice grip that made me curl my
toes. Fuck, this was un-fucking-believable. Before he could pull off again,
my hands grabbed his hips and kept him still.

His head rolled side to side, his eyes closed and his jaw clamped. "Fuck
man, you're... so... fucking... BIG!" he hissed. "Gimme a second..."

"Fuck Nick, you're so fucking hot... you're so fucking tight... it feels
fucking incredible...!"

"You don't have a baseball bat in your ass, fucker!"

"Take your time. Nick, it feels so fucking *good.* Please. You have no
idea." Hormones and a desperate sense of need turned my voice to gravel.

Nick didn't say a word, but just started... rolling himself. Swaying
slightly side to side, trying to will himself to loosen up. I reached over
and slowly started jacking his dick, still dripping with a combination of
spit and cum, to distract him. The attention to his dick seemed to help, as
his movements started to look more sensual, and less like he was trying to
take a painful dump. His right hand slid across his hairy chest, slowly but
forcefully rubbing his nipples. Finally his hand shot up, and he roughly
ran his fingers through his hair as he tilted his head back. In doing so,
he flared his hairy armpit toward me, which was... strangely hot. I mean,
if I had ever thought about a guy's hairy pit before, it was likely to be
that it was nasty and stunk. But right then, right there, it was sexy as
fuck... stunningly masculine. Raw in every sense of the word. I... couldn't
believe it, but staring at his hairy frame I was feeling some new hunger
awaken in me. As I jacked him with one hand, the other reached up and
roughly massaged his chest, fascinated by the scruff of his hair.

But all that was quickly washed away. Nick's hole had relaxed, and he was
slowly, deliberately driving down on me. My cockhead was screaming with
sensation, as his guts wrapped me tight in a velvet clutch. I started
straining upwards to drive in faster, desperate for the heat of him. I felt
something inside, and suddenly Nick bellowed out "Oh FUCK yeah! THERE!
*THERE*!!" We started bucking up and down hard, his whole body rippling in
waves.

"You like that?" I called out to him, running my hands back to his
hips. "You *like* that shit?"

"Fucking YEAH! FUCK ME! Oh god YES!"

"TAKE MY COCK!" I bellowed. I pulled him down, and in response he drove
down to the base, his hole mashing against my hairy balls.  And suddenly,
we were fucking like a pair of fucking pigs. He slammed hard against me,
bouncing up and down, but also twisting to better feel my cock inside
him. As much as I could, I was bucking hard against him, desperate to dig
as deep as I could. Not only was it tighter than anything I could imagine,
Nick was fucking brilliant, clenching down on me as he went, squeezing
unbelievable sensations into my cock. I fucking lost my mind, totally lost
control. There was no technique, just slamming again and again at each
other as we roared our lungs out.

It could have only lasted a few minutes... his earlier blowjob had already
primed me, and this was the best fuck of my life. But I couldn't believe
how much *he* was into it, rock-hard despite having just shot a load
minutes before. Suddenly, he started out a fucking primal scream that
rattled the windows. Without either of us touching him, his cock shot out
again, thick ropes of cum that splashed across my chest. As he did so, his
ass clenched my cock so hard I almost literally saw stars. And in that
moment I shot the biggest load of my life. It was like lighting ripped
across my body, exploding in my balls. I screamed so hard, the veins in my
neck were popping, as I shot again and again, flooding his ass with
white-hot cum. My whole body convulsed violently, like every nerve ending
in my body was firing at once.

The next few minutes were a blur. At some point, Nick rolled off me and
collapsed onto the bed, barely able to catch his breath. I was gasping for
breath, too, laying there like I had just collapsed after running a
marathon, with no bodily control whatsoever. I had no idea what time it
was, or how long we had been at it... I was just *spent*.

As we laid there, my initial feeling was in awe of the sensations I was
feeling. That was easily the most athletic, most powerful fuck I'd ever
had, with an orgasm to match. My body was still trying to process what went
down, but God. Damn. my body was fucking *satisfied.* In a way it had
*never* been satisfied before.

And yet...

As I laid there, I slow sense of panic started building. Jesus Christ, what
had I done? What *was* that? What does it mean? Did I... you know, *like*
being with a guy? What does that say about me? What about Nick? Did *he*
like that? Was *he freaking out, too? What does that say about our
friendship? Holy fuck... what does that say about my *marriage?*

But then again, I haven't felt so fucking... alive... since forever.

It didn't help that I couldn't get an actual read on Nick.  We realized how
late it was, and he gathered up his stuff and left with a minimum of
chit-chat. There was a... pause... right before he walked out the door, but
I don't think either of us had our wits about us to say what needed to be
said. Or what was on our minds.

Dammit. As he drove off, I kept kicking myself for not saying
anything. Maybe that *was* our one-and-only shot to try something like
this... should I have at least told him that whatever confusion I had, that
it was the best sex of my life? And maybe I didn't want that to be a
one-and-only shot...? But was that even where my head was? Did the fact
that I couldn't say anything mean that deep down I didn't *want* to say
anything?

Damn. Now what?


* * *

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