Date: Sun, 5 Mar 2023 14:01:42 +0000 (UTC)
From: atlantisguy@aol.com
Subject: Nursed Back to Health -- (Gay - 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***



I always knew Garrett was a good friend, but I didn't realize how good
until... everything went down.

I vividly remember the day we met, it was our first day as newbies into a
competitive grad school program at a good university back in the mid
1990s. On my first day, I had walked into my first classroom, settled into
a chair... and then he walked in.

Wowza.

I had never thought of myself as anything but a normal, red-blooded
straight guy, but I swear I did a double take. It was like Garrett had
walked off the set of a freaking Hallmark Christmas movie—so much so
that I thought it was going to snow. He was the literal embodiment of
All-American charm, with an athletic frame that oozed masculine grace. The
dazzling effect was heightened when he spoke with a honeyed, Southern
lilt... I mean, shit, it sounded like music. Every woman in the room
suddenly shifted their posture and started to twitter, and even the lesbian
Marxist in the corner languidly dragged her fingers across her face and
started to purr appreciatively.

For a minute, I felt like a gangly teenager back in middle school all over
again.

Wait. Fuck that shit. I have nothing to be ashamed about. I'm Blake, and I
am very much not a gangly middle schooler any more. I worked through my
awkward stage by throwing myself into sports, and through workouts to build
and maintain muscle. I'm no gym rat by any stretch, but I feel no shame
when I hit the showers. I've also grown into my looks and can say with no
false modesty that I'm damn easy on the eyes. I may not be the sporty,
All-American God Garrett was, but I wasn't nothing.  Garrett and I really
didn't get to know each other. On the one hand, we were each other's direct
competition. As new recruits starting at the same time, we were both thrown
into the meatgrinder simultaneously, and essentially each other's rivals
for funding, position, and the professors' attention.

And it was a struggle; that first semester kicked my ass. Given the program
we were in, every paper we turned in needed to be publishable, every spoken
statement had to be defendable. It was rough, and a huge leap from my
undergraduate program. And it wasn't just me feeling the heat. As the weeks
went by, I could see the... brightness of Garrett's eyes start to dim, to
be replaced by haggard exhaustion. But, after the initial jolt I got my
shit together and plowed forward. It was rough going, but by the semester's
end, I like to think I had shown my professors and colleagues that I
deserved a seat at the table.

I saw Garrett on the first day of the new semester, when we discovered we
had three Monday classes back-to-back-to-back. We essentially exchanged
pleasantries as we moved around, and ended the day with a 3-hour seminar
that was required of all new entrants to the program.

And holy fuck was that seminar a shit-show.

The professor who led it was several decades beyond his expiration date,
and the whole thing could have been a sketch comedy segment... if it hadn't
been so mind-numbingly boring. Like, the kind of event where you wanted to
rip your own arm off so you could bludgeon yourself to death with it.

After it was over, Garrett and I stumbled into the hallway, dazed, and
stared at each other blankly. Finally, I started to snicker, he followed
suit, and within minutes we were both collapsed on the floor howling with
laugher. Him clutching my shoulder for support.

"Did... did he really just talk about... a 'Dear Abby' column for 20
goddamn minutes??!?" he howled.

"Jesus Christ!" I exploded back. "And that was the only coherent part of
the lecture! The look on that girl's face when he spent 10 fucking minutes
trying to figure out if they were related because they had the same last
name..." I trailed off as I dissolved into convulsive laughter.

"Oh God, oh God! She looked like, 'Is he... is he trying to hit on me?' And
then, 'Do I wish he was hitting on me instead whatever bullshit this is?'"
More riotous laughter.

Finally, we regained our composure. I got up and extended my hand to
him. "Fuck this shit. I think we need to grab a beer. We earned it."

Garrett brightened, considerably. He looked like he was going to say
something, but then clamed up. He instead grabbed my hand and hoisted
himself to his feet. "You, sir, are a man after my own heart. I humbly
accept." He clapped my on the shoulder, and off we went.

We ended up having a blast. After spending time with him I realized he was
a real chill guy, and freaking hilarious. We had so much fun that we did it
again the following week, at which point it became a Monday night
tradition. From there, I noted that we were coming up on the Super Bowl and
invited him over to watch the game. He tried to hold himself together, but
the look of joy on his face was like I was his long-lost father come home
from the war to restore the family fortune. Normally a chill dude, he was
bouncing around thinking of all the food he was going to make—I learned
he was a damn good cook—and planning out every detail. On game day,
while we were gorging on some amazing pulled pork, I whined that I had
gotten completely out of shape since starting the program. He excitedly
suggested that we join a local gym together to be each other's
accountability partners. Things kept building, and in short order we were
inseparable, and thick as thieves.

In one of our many beer-soaked conversations, I learned more about
him... and just how bad things had been for him that first semester. It
didn't help that he was in a long-distance relationship with a girl he'd
been together with since college. This was proving to be a real challenge
for them, and things had been really wearing him down.

Worse, he confided that he hadn't been sure he was going to make it in the
program. "I was expecting it to be hard, but not that hard. And it didn't
help that everyone treated me like I didn't belong. They only saw me as an
air-headed pretty boy, or a dumb jock, or a country hick... or all three at
once. Professors, the students, even Ellen in the office."

"Yeah, Ellen is a real bitch," I commiserated. But secretly, I was wincing
remembering my less than gracious response to meeting him, and hoping I
hadn't been a total asshole. "But you're doing okay now, right?"

Garrett sighed and looked down. "It's been... hard. I don't know. Back in
college, everything came so easy. Like I didn't even need to read
everything, it just clicked. I really was on top of the world in college,
and now I feel like I'm just... nothing."

"C'mon, man. You're a great guy, and you totally can do this. Tell you
what. I know they want us at each other's throats and all, but what say we
start our own study group. Make sure we have each other's backs."

He gave me a look that I couldn't quite read. "Yeah. Yeah. Let's do
this. Two Musketeers, right?"

"Yes! And drinking buddies, too!"

"You're on!"

At that point, the semester started getting better. I realized how much I
had been starved for friendship myself, and loved having someone to run
around with. Garrett got much of his mojo back, and seemed... well, bright
again. With a killer smile that made women go weak in the knees. And if I
didn't know better, from some guys, too. Hell, we both got our share of
attention at the bar where we hung out, even if he remained blindingly
loyal to his far-off girlfriend, Ellie.

I was somewhat surprised when he returned from spring break, all puffed up
and full of himself. He proudly proclaimed that he had asked Ellie to marry
him, and she said yes. His eyes just lit up when he talked about her... I
hope I can find someone like that myself. I've been single since I found
out my college girlfriend had been cheating on me with one of my buds. I
wanted to get back into the game again... but, well...

Garrett and Ellie decided to get married during the summer, and they
started the new school year as husband and wife. I met he, and she was a
riot... a real sassy personality. The kind of woman you expected to find
working at a roadside diner somewhere. Garrett confided with a twinkle in
his eye that she was on the high end of high maintenance, but matched well
against his laid-back personality. We all became fast friends.

Times were great--a steady grind with classes but a lot of fun
in-between. Garrett and I continued to climb the grad school ladder,
becoming TAs in turn, and plowing ahead.

And then, things went sideways.

I stared getting excruciating abdominal pain, and came to find I had gall
stones. They needed to remove my gall bladder.

The good news is that the procedure no longer gutted you like a fish; they
were reasonably sure they could work things out laparoscopically. Still, it
was going to be a massive, invasive procedure. Talking to the doctor, I
learned that the first 24 hours or so I would be essentially useless. The
next 2 or so days after that would be better, but still pretty much
unmitigated hell, as I would still need help with basic biological
functions. I'd improve steadily after that, but I should plan a week of
essentially staying in bed.

And, I'd need someone to stay with me at all times, and to help with
everything. Everything.

That really sucked. The only one I could really ask to serve as my bedside
nurse was my mom, but she lived a thousand miles away. And as a
20-something guy, I had zero interest in my mommy helping me with... um,
basic biological functions. Hell no. I'd rather eat broken glass.  Garrett
and Ellie had invited me for dinner that night, and I was bemoaning how
badly that was going to suck. Garrett let me bitch and moan, for a bit
while he was preparing the meat. After I had talked myself out, he offered
up simply, "Well, Blake... I could stay with you."

"Wait, what?"

"No, seriously. I could stay with you. You said you were going to schedule
things over spring break, right? Ellie and I aren't going anywhere. I'll
bring the readings I need to catch up on, the essays I need to grade, and
camp out with you."

"Dude, no. No! Didn't you hear me? Jesus, you'd be like... seeing me. You
know, like all of me."

"Settle down, I see your micro-dick at the gym all the time. I'm hardly
frightened."

I punched him in the arm. "There's more to it than that. Shit, you'd be
like helping me go to the bathroom! And bathing! And... everything! God, I
could never ask that of you. Of anyone!"

"No, seriously. I've done team sport since I was a kid, and seen and helped
all kinds of injuries. All kinds of personal injuries. I can do this."

I was absolutely flabbergasted. "But... why would you? Like I said, I could
never ask someone..."

Garrett abruptly put down the knife. "It's the least I could do." He looked
at me sharply, and then looked down before continuing. "The very
least. You... you... I don't think you realize it, but you pretty much
saved my life back when we started. I've never really gone into it, but
that first semester about ripped me apart. I never felt so... useless. So
stupid. So out of my depth. After that first day of second semester, I was
pretty much ready to throw everything away and turn tail. After that
crazy-ass seminar, I had it. But as we were leaving, we
just... clicked. That was the first time someone here treated me like a
person. You made me feel like I could make it. That I belonged here. And
Hell, you made me want to fight for Ellie, too. You... brought me back. And
you've done it every day since." He looked up at me, and his eyes were
glistening. He put his hand on my shoulder. "Will you will let me, in some
small way, do something to pay you back? You saved my life."

I didn't know what to say. It was so hard seeing myself through someone
else's eyes. To know something I did so casually had such an impact on
someone, causing ripples that kept going.

And I realized that his friendship had been as much an anchor for me as
mine had been for him.

Damn. I think I was welling up myself. I had no response, and no voice to
make it. I just reached over and grabbed his shoulder. Just standing
there. Together.

Ellie came in at that moment, looked at us and rolled her eyes. "Lord save
me. I leave the room for 2 minutes and all the men-folk are cryin' and
huggin'... why don't you set the table, Blake, and make yourself useful for
once? Honestly!"

The surgery came and went, and I was incredibly grateful to have Garrett on
my side. He was there to pick me up post-op, as the nurses poured me into
his car. He was somehow able to get me into my bed, went through the
checklist of things, and quietly set himself up to camp out in my living
room.

The first night absolutely sucked. I was wildly disoriented, drugged up to
high hell, and in serious pain. Garrett essentially stripped me naked and
had me wrapped in a light robe, the easier for me to manage biological
functions as they started to return, and to check on the four incisions on
my abdomen. That first night he was kind enough to hold a portable
urinal—essentially a strangely shaped, glorified water bottle—to my
dick so I could relieve myself, which was probably the most humiliating
thing I'd ever done. But it saved me from the hassle of trying to get me to
the bathroom. Garrett discretely looked away, like he wasn't even there,
but did everything with military precision. And without making me feel like
a total, fucking loser. No ball-busting, no snark. Just much-needed
assistance.

God, I was lucky to have him.

Fortunately, I was in pretty good health otherwise, and quickly
recovered. Still, I was nowhere near fully myself again, and the pain med
continued to throw me for a loop. But over the next few days, in addition
to soreness, I was battling boredom and a fair amount of cabin
fever. Garrett was a trouper, putting up with my foul mood.

Finally, Thursday night, I kinda snapped. Looking over at him, I growled
out, "Dude. I'm going out of my mind here! I love you, man, for taking care
of me... but Goddamn, I kinda wish you'd give me like five minutes of
privacy so I could rub one out and take the edge off. It's been too long as
it is!"

He gave me a level look and shot back, "Don't bitch at me, man. Just do it!
We're all guys here..."

"Very funny. I've already made a spectacle out of myself, thank you very
much. I'm not gonna whip it out."

"Geez man, it's not like I haven't seen your pencil dick a hundred times
already at the gym."

I glowered at him. "That's different. Besides, being left with nothing but
my right hand is just another reminder about how badly my love life
sucks. You don't have to resort to jerking off—you've got an actual
woman to give you all the help you need."

Garrett exasperatedly closed the book he was reading and turned towards
me. "Oh please. Do you think there is a married man, anywhere, whose wife
is giving them everything they need? Trust me, I switch over to 'single
player' all the time."

"Aw geez, man... seriously? Ellie let's you jerk off by yourself?"

Garrett guffawed. "No sir—Ellie thinks beating your meat is a form of
cheating! The one time she nearly caught me, there was hell to pay. I have
to go deep undercover to pull it off."

I looked at him for a second, before we both exploded in laughter. Me
laughing so hard I think I re-opened my incisions. "What is the deal with
that?" I asked in wonderment. "Why do women get so bent out of shape about
guys jerking themselves off? Taking it personally? And God forbid you be
watching porn while going at it... that makes you worse than Hitler!"

Garrett continued snickering. "I'm sure I have no idea!"

I went in in a righteous huff. "I mean, it doesn't mean anything! We don't
do it for any great important reason, we just do it because we can. Can't
get the morning started? Rub one out. Bored at home? Rub one out. Can't
fall asleep? Rub one out. It's just... relieving pressure. A distraction. A
few minutes of feeling good. And girls make up this whole story in their
minds that we're not satisfied with them, or we're sex obsessed perverts!"

"And really, sometimes it's just... faster," Garrett jumped in. "I love
sex. I love sex with my wife. Sex is the gold standard. But sometimes,
you're just too tired or don't have the energy. You don't want the half
hour of convincin', with the next half hour of preliminaries, followed by a
half hour of cardio. We just need a quick release. We don't always have
time for the whole banquet; sometimes, we just need a bag of Cheetos to
tide us over!"

I was howling in laughter all over again. "Gar, I think you're the first
man in history who compared jerking off to a bag of Cheetos."

"Am I wrong?"

"Not a bit!" I thought about it for a minute. "You're right about the quick
release. I mean, jerking off doesn't feel... bad... but you only really do
it for the release. It's all about the ending."

Garrett considered my words, and went on. "Yeah, now that you say
it... it's the total opposite of a blowjob. If jerking off is all about the
ending, getting blown is all about the process. Really feelin'
it. Especially for me... I don't think I've ever actually finished up just
from getting blown."

"Huh. Yeah, well... I think part of the problem is women just don't
understand the glory that is a good blow job. They totally don't know what
to do, and too often don't even care. Sorry that it doesn't work for you
and Ellie."  Garrett scoffed, harshly. "Normally I'd demand satisfaction
from any man talking about my wife that way... but it's not an issue. Ellie
flat out refuses to ever, ever blow me. She says it's degrading and that if
I ever pressure her I'm getting a knee in my nether parts. And trust
me... she'd do it."

"Damn, man... I'm sorry!"

"Yeah, well... I've resigned myself to never getting a blowjob again. But I
can't complain too much, generally things are pretty good between us. It's
just, sometimes I get... wistful."

"So, I guess that's back where we started... beating our meat is our only
recourse. Damn." Somewhat absently, I reached down and cupped
myself... still naked under my light cotton robe. I savored the sensations,
but realized what I was doing and pulled my hand back. Embarrassed. I
looked at Garrett, and he was watching me with... interest.

We looked at each other in silence for a while, until he tentatively broke
the ice. "I wasn't kidding when I said you were free to let loose. I've
been feeling the urge myself for a while, with no way to relieve the
pressure. Maybe if we do it in front of each other, it won't count. Just
guys being guys, doing what guys do."

I was stunned speechless. My Southern Gentleman, suggesting
something... untoward. Seriously? I... have to admit. It wasn't just the
usual... pressure I was feeling. His suggestion, was... intriguing. Doing
with another guy around? It was like... taboo. My sex life since moving out
here had been essentially pathetic. But Garrett was offering
something... dangerous. Fucking exciting. I mean, two grown men jerking off
in front of each other? I was, I admit, more than a little curious. And
more than a little bit eager.

"Gar, are you shitting me...?" I asked cautiously. Lightly enough that I
could still back down and laugh it off if he was just kidding me.

"Naw, I'm not pulling your leg. In fact..." he got this conspiratorial look
in his eye, "I'm hoping my unmarried buddy might just happen to have some
good ol' fashioned porn at his disposal. I haven't been able to indulge
since getting married."

I looked at him, saw the reflection of my excitement in his eyes and
realized my dick was starting to swell. "Go into my bedroom. That drawer in
the nightstand is where I keep my stash of videos. Pick us out something
good."

He got a big grin on his face, and I could see him actually start to
flush. "There's a good man!" He bolted into my bedroom, and came back in a
few minutes with a video. His pants had a noticeable bulge, which was
leading the way. He helped me onto the couch, loaded things up, and walked
back over to me.

There was an awkward pause, where we looked at each other in silence. My
heart was racing. "We gonna do this...?" I said thickly.

Garrett held my eyes for a second. I could see the lust creeping in. Soon
his look was a leer. "Yeah." He sat down next to me, and looked over at
me. I had opened my robe, leaving myself essentially naked. Hairy in
exactly the way a man should be hairy, except for the places I had been
shaved for surgery. Garrett looked at me
with... interest. Openly... staring. And I was loving the idea of another
guy checking me out.

"Yessir, I think we're going to have some fun," he murmured in a husky
voice. But then something occurred to him. He stood up and started peeling
off all his clothes, too. Buck naked. Making us equal.

It was... odd watching him strip down. It made me feel... I don't quite
know. Excited. It was so strange. I had seen him take off his clothes a
million times when we were at they gym. But there, it was all
business. This was... shit, he had like this look in his eye. Like it
was... charged. Sexual. The confidence of a man in full rut knowing he was
going to get lucky. I was... feeling it. Shit. Really feeling it. It was
exciting. Dangerous. We were really going to do it.

His shirt came off first, revealing his chest. It was almost disorienting,
as usually with that kind of striptease I was used to seeing tits. Instead,
it was hard muscles. Taut. And hairy. Not like a gorilla, but a splash of
fur across his pecs and down his breastbone. Short and curly. Around his
nipples. Down his abs to his crotch. It was...

Shit.

I mean, I'm a straight guy. I like a smooth chest. I like tits. But Garrett
was... shit. I don't know what to say. It was fucking hot. He was fucking
hot. Masculine. Like a fucking MAN.

Like a fucking man.

I guess I was staring. Garrett looked at me and... almost blushed. "What,
man...? Is this... too weird...?"

"NO! I mean... no. It's just... I... just..." my mind started racing, not
sure what I should say. Not even sure what I was thinking. "I guess I've
always admired you. Your look. You're fucking incredible...  Oh, shit. I'm
sorry, I shouldn't have said that. I've said way too much."

"Me, what are you talking about? You're so... perfect. The hottest
sonofabitch I've ever met. The perfect man. Shit. Now I've said too much."
He looked down, then back up at me, straight in the eye. "I'm not gonna
lie, I've always been intimidated by you. I mean, you are exactly what a
man should look like. No show muscles... you're real. And I love that you
have some honest-to-gosh hair. I've never understood why guys are trying to
look smooth. You are... perfect."

I felt... I don't know how I felt. Like... proud. Flush. Alive. I couldn't
believe this super-hot guy had been admiring... me. Thinking in any way I
was a match for him and his perfect body. I was... feeling... something in
my belly. And my pulse.

Shit. Things were... moving... fast.

And then he said simply, "I guess its time to shit or get off the pot." And
with quick strokes, he dropped his pants and Jockeys, and stood there in
his fully glory. His dick was surrounded by a full man-bush, and anchored
by a pair of hairy balls. He was at about half-staff, and I guessed he was
going to be at least 7-8 inches when fully hard. Longer than me, but I was
considerably thicker.

Fuck. My throat suddenly was dry. Fucking raw. Fucking masculine. Raw male
power. Unabashed.

One curiosity. Garrett disentangled his undershirt, and carefully placed it
over my hairy chest. He gave me a half-smile, and said "I can't have you
splashing on your fresh stiches now, can I?" Shit. The fleeting touch of
him as he did so... really... got to me...

And with that he sat down and fired up the video.

Fuck I was horny. Hornier than I could ever remember
being. Hands-trembling-horny. I knew instinctively what to do... guys by
this stage of our lives have figured out exactly what we like and are
ruthless in delivering it. I started working myself. Feeling fucking
great. Feeling the pressure of my hands. The easy friction. And Garrett did
the same.

The room was crackling with electricity. Forbidden excitement. Having a guy
start jacking himself next to me, as I started working my own meat? It was
crazy. My heart was racing. More exciting than anything I'd done in a long
time. And... maybe this is true of all guys, everywhere, but it was such a
rush seeing another guy getting pleasured. I mean, that's why we like porn,
right? I mean, we want to see a woman's parts, but watching a guy get off
helps get us off. Like we can imagine what it's like.

So being able to see my bud work his dick was... really getting to me. I
found myself sneaking glances at him fisting his
cock. Watching. Excited. Feeling his energy. Feeling his rush, and having
it feed mine. I quick looked at his face, and I swear I saw him checking me
out too, fleetingly. Fuck that was hot. Knowing he... he... was getting off
on me the same way I was getting off on him. Male bonding at its finest.

I watched more. Fascinated about how he rolled his fist, torquing,
twisting, enhancing. Knowing how to work himself better than anyone
else. He reached down and started massaging his balls. I followed his
lead. Fuck. I loved ball play, and women always got it wrong. Maybe only
guys knew just how much pressure to place...

Garrett moaned, softly, and my cock spasmed in response. It was fucking
real. My looks over to him were getting longer. Less hidden. I looked up,
and he was watching me. Openly. He looked up and our eyes locked. No
embarrassment. No snark. Just heat. Fucking heat. And a connection.

We were openly staring at each other. Looking. Seeing. The fucking porno
went away. Watching each other, mirroring each other. Garrett started
tickling himself under his balls, making a low rumbling growl. My growl was
louder. I ran my thumb around my cockhead, smearing my precum around. He
all but whimpered. My whole body was on fire. Horniness unleased. The slow
seductive dance had gotten to me and I needed to release. I started
beating, hard. Fast. He joined me. Somewhere inside, I was surprised at how
violent jerking off can be. My need building... building...

But then with a frustrated grunt I had to disengage. I was still loopy from
the pain meds, and the headrush was staggering me. Worse, I couldn't keep
up with the rough arm movements, as I was still in a lot of pain and not
really able to move freely. I spat out my irritation, furious that I
couldn't seal the deal, and sat there panting, ridiculous. With my
still-hard dick twitching and in as much need for release as I was.

Garrett was watching me closely, and realized what was happening. And to my
complete, total shock...

...he leaned forward and gripped my dick with his right hand.

It was like an electric jolt ripped through me. Pleasure, extreme pleasure,
followed by extreme need, and a flash of
embarrassment. "Gar... what... what are you doing...?" I gasped out.

"I promised to help you. I can't leave a guy in this condition... so I'm
helping you."

"I..."

"Just be quiet." He went to work. I can't describe the incredible feelings
coursing through me. Holy shit. Women had felt me up before, and
occasionally given me a handjob on the way to something
better... but... Jesus. What a difference having a guy do this made. He
knew what to do. Knew the fundamentals of pressure and glide to make
me... feel goooooooood.

Then... he fucking spat into his hand, and really got to work. I started
moaning like a bitch in heat. Laying back, my eyes rolling in my
head. Swept along in a river of sensation. God. Oh my God. I don't know if
it was the drugs, the fact that it had been so long, or just the forbidden
excitement of doing this with another guy, but I was hard enough to punch
through steel and more alive than I had felt in like years.

Soon, the sensations overwhelmed me. I started off in pumped staccato
grunts, my whole body tensed up, and with a shrieking howl I blew a massive
load all over everything. Dousing Garrett. Spraying my face. I was still
coming down when I realized that Garrett had scooped up my cum in his hand
and started furiously pounding his meat with it. Wildly. With fucking fire
in his eye. My cum slicking him up. He turned towards me, and I was shocked
when he threw back his head and loudly blasted his own load all over
me. Drenching my protective T-shirt, and again spraying my face.

Shocked. I was shocked. And fucking hotter than fuck. I ran my tongue
across my mouth, tasting our cum... mine? His? I had no idea. Just tasting
it.

More taboos broken.

We just looked at each other. Oblivious to the fake squeals of the porno
still running on the TV.

Well, that was it. The last few days that Garrett stayed with me, we jerked
off together every chance we could. Obsessively. Waking up in the
morning. After lunch. Before dinner. As we got ready to sleep. As much as
my body could recover. And quickly, we realized we didn't even need to put
a porno in to get us started. We'd start together, and then he took over
and beat my meat for me. He was a fucking master, knowing things that only
another guy could know. And... he... shit, it sounds weird to say, but he
could fucking read me like a book. He tried shit, changed shit up, and when
he got the reaction he was looking for, he fucking went for it. God, he did
something with his fingers juuust on the underside of my cockhead that
still gets me instantly hard the instant I think about it. I never knew a
handjob could be so fucking incredible... or... shit... so intimate. It
wasn't... tender by any stretch of the imagination, but... I guess I never
really thought that guys could be so... good... with each other.

I wanted to return the favor. Do for him what he was so amazingly doing for
me. And by the end, I had was reaching over to him and would stroke him as
he jerked me, fondling his balls. It was the least I could do. I wanted to
do more, but being he always sat to the left of me (we're both
right-handed), and any attempt at torqued movement brought searing pain,
that was all I could manage.

When Garrett packed up at the end of the week, we didn't say anything
whatsoever. I thanked him, profusely, for his help, but was deliberately
vague about which help I was referring to. In part, because I could barely
wrap my head around it. We had been so... casual about it. Jumping in like
it was no big thing. Expected. And at the time, we rushed in so fast and so
completely that there wasn't really any time to think about it.

But... c'mon. My best bud and I were jerking each other off. Guys. Guys
jerking each other off. That was all kinds of wrong, especially since he
was a married man. What the fuck was wrong with me? Wrong with us?

But holy shit was that fucking amazing!

We never spoke of it, never even hinted at anything that had happened. But
there was no way I could get it out of my mind. I... shit, it's weird to
say it, but he had awoken a real curiosity inside me. That that forbidden
fun had been fucking awesome, and nothing bad resulted in it. We didn't go
blind, he and his wife seemed to be strong as ever, and our friendship kept
going merrily along.

The curiosity continued. I was curious about... Damn. I'll just say it. I
was curious about him. It had been so surprising being with a guy. Touching
another guy. I had never had an opportunity like that before, and unless
something really bizarre happened, I probably wouldn't have such an
opportunity ever again. Having a guy openly do stuff with me, rather than
threatening to kick my ass, like most of my other buddies would do. I found
myself thinking more and more about Garrett as I jerked off after
that. Unable to forget the incredible sensation of his hand around my
dick. Wanting to feel his. And there was that... closeness. That
trust. Beyond anything I'd ever shared with a guy before. Blowing away all
my preconceived notions about how guys acted around guys.

And that made me think: what else were we missing?

Shit, was I really thinking that? About what else we were missing out on?

...Yeah. I think I was.

Curiosity kept eating at me for the rest of the term. Curiosity and
horniness. Garrett, Ellie and I all went back to normal. Which was on the
one hand, great. But the more I thought of it, the more I realized that the
longer we stayed at "normal," the less likely anything was to ever happen
again. This might be the last chance to explore. Also, I had already
planned on being gone over the summer; I had secured a sweet 12-week
fellowship half-way across the country. I was pretty sure that by the time
I got back, the door Garrett and I had cracked open would be closed for
good.

And so I hatched a plan. By the term's end, I was good as new and fully
recovered. I waited until we were all done with everything for the summer,
and things were more relaxed. At that point, I reached out to Garrett and
made him an offer: for his excellent care while I was down, I offered to
cook him a ribeye steak dinner on the grill with a ridiculously expensive
bottle of bourbon. Usually, Ellie and Garrett always came as a matched
set. But I correctly suspected that Ellie would not feel the need to tag
along, and was stoked to find that she had scheduled a girls' night with
her friends to give us some guy time.

I lit candles to several different gods in gratitude.

The day came. Garrett knocked at my door, looking great in a T-shirt,
shorts, and flip-flops, as we were just on the cusp of summer. I was
nervous as fuck, but we went into the evening easily. They way best friends
do. I can grill a decent steak, and with some potatoes and veggies, we had
a feast. The air was warm, and the bourbon smooth. Unforced conversation,
so easy we didn't need to fill the pauses. On my couch, two guys in our
prime. Feeling an incredible closeness. We were fucking kings. Seeing him
like that... it... my heart kinda was glowing. Mostly from excitement, but
there was something else wrapped up in there, too. Something deeper.

Finally, I looked over at him and took one big gulp of liquid courage. "Hey
Gar, I just wanted to say thanks again for everything while I was laid
up. I'd have never managed without you, and you went above and beyond. That
was seriously Blood Brother territory, and I just... wanted to say how much
it meant to me."

He flashed me a half-smile. "It was the least I could do. You had my back,
and I was happy to give back. It's a small part of what I owe you." No
snark, no smartassery to break the mood, just... warmth. My heart sang.

"So. Do you... trust me?"

Garrett gave me an appraising, if somewhat confused look. "You know I do
brother. What's up...?

"Well. You provided more than medical care. You provided a special service,
that I was unable to repay at the time." I got up, and smoothly kneeled
between his legs. There was a flicker in his eye... barely
perceptible. "But I owe you for that, too. I've been thinking about it. A
lot. And now it's time to pay up."

I reached up, and started massaging his crotch.

I don't know if I can describe the look that swirled around his face.

Considering.

Remembering.

Deciding.

An unmistakably male leer slid across his face. "You don't owe me
nothin'... but... buddy, I ain't gonna stop you."

Fuck yeah.

Garrett was watching me with intense curiosity. I gave him a smug smile,
and looked back down. I could feel his dick starting to rise and flex
against my hand, wanting to be free. Without another word, I undid the
button to his shorts, unzipped his fly, and rubbed him harder against the
light cotton fabric of his Jockeys. He let out an appreciative sound. He
made no move whatsoever to block me.

Enough preliminaries. If I thought too much about this, I was afraid I'd
chicken out. This was my one shot. I pulled down his underwear, and his
rock-hard cock slapped against his body.

Fuck.

I had seen him hard, and awkwardly jacked him, sure, but this was
altogether different. For one, I was close enough that I get hit with the
scent of his musk. Completely different from a woman's snatch. It
was... fucking masculine. Raw, primal. Connecting with my body on an
ocean's-deep level. My heart started pounding as my brain whirled. Fuck. He
smelled like sex.

I steeled myself, wet my lips, and moved in. If anything, I'm sure he
thought I was going to repay him with a handjob of my own. I had been
thinking of something else. Obsessing with it, really... You see, my buddy
thought he'd never get another blowjob.

And I was going to give him the best fucking blowjob a bud could give.

I locked on his cockhead with my mouth. Garrett's whole body jerked and he
barked out a gasp.

God, his dick was amazing. Harder, and yet softer than I thought it would
be. Fucking real. I had no experience with an actual dick in my mouth, but
I knew what I had always hoped and prayed someone would do to me, and bet
he'd be in the same boat. I started working the head with my tongue,
running in thick circles around the rim, teasing him. Flicking his piss
slit, just to keep his attention. He let out an obscene moan, more real
than any porn star could make.

And it fucking fired me up.

I fucking sucked him down, down his shaft. Deep. As deep as could. I gagged
and pulled back, but fucking tried again. Swallowing down. Deep. Garrett
writhed underneath me, letting loose some unholy sounds, not even able to
make human speech. He didn't need to give me direction; I'm a guy. I
instinctively knew what to do.

I fucking went after him. Fast and hard. Actual suction, unlike when a
woman just kinda bobs weakly. I fucking took him and made his dick
mine. His hands were all over me. Gripping, massaging my scalp, fingers
through my short hair. His other on my shoulder. Not guiding me, not
needing to. Just alive with the touch. With a free hand I roughly pulled
his shorts and underwear down, laying his whole crotch open. I was mouth
fucking him, fast up and down the head. There was a new taste—slick and
almost sweet. He must have been leaking precum.

I licked down his shaft, all the way to the base. His balls. His fucking
hairy balls. His scent was strongest here, and it was like blowing up my
brain. I went after them. Hard. Mouthing them. Sucking them. One, then the
other. Forcefully. Matting his hairy balls with my spit. Tasting him. My
nose pressed into his bush, breathing him in. Sucking hard. As hard as I
dared. Garrett was fucking growling like a jungle cat.

I moved up his shaft, sideways. Moving my mouth up the entire
length. Taking him my mouth again. Teasing him. Working him. And then
letting him fucking have it. Mouth fucking him. Jerking him in time with my
mouth. Giving him something he'd never gotten before. Giving him something
no woman could. Fast. Furious. He tore his shirt over his head, I swept up
my free hand, gripping his hairy nipple. Hard. He didn't know what to do
with himself. His hands all over me. Roaring. My heart racing.

He hit critical mass. I could feel every muscle tense. See his balls rear
up. Hear his hoarse cries sharpen and rise. Garrett nearly lifting himself
off my couch. Finally, he shouted out a desperate warning, "Holy shit, I'M
GONNA CUM!"...

...and BAM! The man started spewing cum like a fucking water
cannon. Flooding my mouth. I realized I had no idea what to do. A moment of
panic as for a minute it felt like I was drowning. I desperately started to
swallow, but there was no way I could keep up. I ultimately let loose a
gagging cough, splattering his seed all over.

Finally it subsided. I realized he was gripping my shoulder so lightly it
ached. I looked down, seeing the spray of cum on his crotch. Oozing down
his balls. Cum. It had tasted... weird. Salty, like thick sea water. Maybe
nutty.

I went down on him again, gentler, knowing he was going to be sensitive to
my touch. I let the wet softness of my tongue bring him back. Slurping up
his spunk. Garrett's bellows had softened somewhat, becoming more a
lingering moan. His legs flexing toward each other with me between them. I
worked the head until I could feel him squirm, then pulled back and started
working the shaft. Tasting his cum. Swallowing it all down. Giving him the
full experience. Amazingly, he really didn't go all that soft. I still had
his undivided attention.

As he never really pushed me off, never really said anything to end things,
I kept going. I think it took him a little off guard. No woman, certainly
not his wife, would have done so much for him. No woman, certainly not his
wife, would so cheerfully kept going. Making him feel good. I went lower
again, and buried my face in his hairy balls, working them over all over
again. His musky scent of sex filling my nose. Somewhere above me I heard
him growl out an appreciative, "Fuuuuuuuuck!"

He was still completely turned on. On sexual high alert. And... it dawned
on me that... I was too.

This was so weird. I hadn't even touched my dick, hadn't gotten any kind of
attention in any way... and I was hard as fucking steel, and horny as
fuck. Really feeling his sexual joy. Really feeling the power of giving a
guy something like that. Not even thinking about having him return the
favor. That feeling of accomplishment.

And, God help me... that feeling of sexual excitement. It was
everything. The closeness of us. The smell. The taste. The sound. The feel.

I mouthed all around his crotch, slurping up his cumsplatter. And he
groaned like a bitch in heat. His hands in my hair. I went back to his
cockhead, and started going after him again. Fast and furious. Holy
shit—he was hard as fuck, like he hadn't just blasted a major
load. Hotter than fuck. Both of us were.

And that was it. Curiosity, hunger, and a half-dozen things came together
in my mind. I realized what I had to do. My one shot at something I'd never
let myself think about.

Silently, while still working his dick over with my mouth, I pulled off my
lounge shots. I pulled back off his cock just long enough to hack up some
phlegm, spit in onto my fingers, and smeared them around my bunghole. And
without a word, I slid up over his lap, and lined us up. Dick to ass.

Garrett's head had been lolling wildly as I worked him, but he now went
stock straight, snapping his head to look at me with animal intensity. He
didn't quite believe. Was afraid to believe. But was desperate to
believe. I rocked back and forth over his dick. Letting it find me by
feeling alone. Feeling his head at my chute. Swirling in an obscene hula
dance, letting it pull my pucker open.

And then I fucking pushed down... and let his cockhead rip me open.

Our heads flew back in unison. He gasped in astonishment. I shouted in
pain. I pulled off and retried. I little easier. Tried again. A little
easier. Below me, Garrett was fucking writhing. I could feel him reaching
up with his entire being trying to ram his dick home. Finally I bit down,
and pushed. POP! His head inside me. And we both roared.

"Wait, man," I growled out. You're fucking huge. Gimme a minute!"

"Oh God, oh God... oh GOD! I'm inside you! I'm FUCKING INSIDE YOU!"

"Wait man. Work with me." I waited. Waited. Better. I rolled my hips in
circles. Better. Rocked slightly. The motion was working. Feeling
better. Barely. But better. I was starting to think I could go through with
it. I started more of an up and down motion. Mini-fucking. Up and down,
each stroke getting more and more of him inside me. Yeah, definitely better
now. Still an icy pain, but workable. I was telling myself to just
breathe. Breathe. Little motion. Little...

...hooooooo GOD! GODGODGOD!

Something! His dick hit something inside me. And I fucking turned ON. It
was like sparks as I swung a sword against a rock. Sparks. SPARKS THAT
DIDN'T GO OUT BUT KEPT BURNING. Suddenly my body was starting to... fucking
boil. That icy pain was suddenly wrapped around fiery heat. Raw. Fucking
Raw. I started desperately bouncing, hitting that spot again and
again. Each time the fire burned hotter. HOTTER. OH MY FUCKING GOD.

Garrett sensed the change, sensed... something.  Suddenly he was gripping
me so hard I though his fingernails would draw blood. Looking at me with
fire to match my own. Fire that would have terrified a woman.

It just made me hotter.

No more pussyfooting. I started fucking slamming my ass on his cock. The
fire exploded in my mind. Slamming. Needing more. I could feel every vein
in his cock as it slid inside me. Fucking FEEL his cockhead rip through
me. My mind exploding. Holy fuck, it was like NOTHING I HAD EVER
EXPERIENCED. Slamming. Slamming down, until I realized I could feel his
crotch hair kissing my overstuffed hole. Full. Full of man-dick. Feeling
hotter than I had ever felt in my life.

And I fucking FUCKED him.

There was no technique. I had no idea what the fuck I was doing. I was on
fire, and needed more. FUCKING MORE. I was fucking roaring, my throat
feeling like I was tearing it apart. MORE. FUCKING. Slamming
wildly. Desperate. It was like all the sparks inside me exploded into
fireworks, that never went out but kept exploding. Raw. The reptile part of
my brain screaming with unholy life. All my pent-up feelings of
frustration, feelings of loneliness, the endless grind of a competitive
program burning in a bonfire of out-of-control sexual passion. A bonfire
set by Garrett's fucking cock inside me. Slamming. Absolute release of
everything. Slamming. Freedom. True Freedom. Slamming. Jesus fucking
Christ... it was like I was nearly cumming. But it kept going. Kept
building. CUMMING.

And then... way, way too fast... I realized I actually was cumming. Not
even touching my dick. The fire inside me went nuclear. Rushing in my
ears. My vision pure white. And my cock exploded the biggest load of my
life all over us. Drenching us. Baptizing us into a new world of raw,
unbroken masculinity. My screams could have blasted the paint from the
walls.

I... don't know what really happened... I couldn't think straight, couldn't
even see straight. But I felt myself being slammed on my back, knocking the
wind out of me. Still on the couch. My legs flexed and splayed to either
side of Garrett's hips, his dick still balls deep in me... and then he
fucking unleashed on me. Thank God I was still riding that orgasmic high,
or I don't know if I could have taken it. He fucking started to piledrive
me as if he was raping his worst enemy. The fire inside me roaring
non-stop. My skin feeling like lightning was dancing across it. Garrett's
face, scrunched up in bestial wrath, his sweat raining down on me.

I had never been so fucking turned on in my entire life.

Raw, roaring fucking to shatter the fucking world. I can't even guess how
long. And then, his movements went wild. Desperate. His face contorted
wildly. Making sounds like a Grizzley Bear in heat. His head slammed
against me, and I could feel his teeth sink into my shoulder. And I swear I
could feel his dick rear up inside me as he blew again. It was too
much. The experience exploded my mind, and I realized that I was fucking
cumming with him. Again.

I was spent. My body feeling like it had been turned inside out. I lay
there, trying to get my bearings, trying to get my head around what
happened. Wildly disoriented. But... holy fuck. I can tell you right there,
right then, that I had never felt so alive in my entire fucking life. I
realized I was unconsciously jerking myself, even though I had just shot
two wads, unable to let that feeling go.

Then, it suddenly occurred to me that Garrett was on the phone. I slid back
to reality, and somehow made out his words: "Hi babe, it's me. No, good,
good... it's all fine. How's your ladies' night in?  Yeah? Yeah. Yeah. Ha!
Hoo boy. Well, no... I just wanted to call and say Blake pulled out a very
fine bottle of bourbon, and it's gone so smoothly it's like I've been
skating on velvet. Way too easy. Uh-huh. Yeah, I think there's no way I'm
good to drive... I'm fixin' to crash here tonight. That OK?
Yeah. Yeah... sure. Ok. Say hi to everyone, and I'll see you in the
morning. Love ya!"

With that he turned back to me. The fucker was rock hard again. "Alright,
so where were we...?"

The rest of the night was unbelievable. He fucked me raw, louder, harder,
more ferociously than I would have thought possible. And I was throwing
back at him just as hard. It was... like nothing I'd ever
experienced. Didn't stop to think, barely stopped to breathe, just the most
primal, the most physical, the most fucking wild sex either of us had ever
had in our lives. All instinct. All hunger. Pushing boundaries we didn't
know we had.

But in the end... I think we crossed a different boundary. It was that last
time, sometime between night and morning, when much of the raw fire and
desperation had been burned away, and we just were... living it. Letting
everything wash over us.

I was on my belly, and Garrett was on top of me. Balls deep in my guts. His
thrusts slower, but somehow more raw. With the intensity that only another
man could bring. I could... feel... his hairy chest against me. The
friction of his wiry hair against me. Against my sweaty back. Our shared
sweat. His one arm wrapped around underneath me, working my hairy
nipple. The other rubbing up and down my own arm stretched out in front of
me. The feel of his stubble shredding my cheek... him moving slightly, so
our scruffy jaws grated against each other. That burning. Against the wet
suction as his dick churned inside me. I don't know what it was, but I had
this... euphoria. Like endless... connection. Raw, unfiltered feelings I
couldn't explain, let alone express. With him. My best friend. Sharing
something so deep, so intensely masculine. Something no woman could ever
understand. Emotions I never felt before washing all over me...

...I turned my face slightly. Meeting his. I don't know what came over
me. What I was thinking. But my lips came together and found his. Just a
flicker. A brush. Then a second one. And another, and then... an honest
kiss. Kiss.

Kiss.

In that moment, I felt more connected to a person than I had ever felt
before. Like we had jumped off a cliff into the sea together. Lost forever
in the churning surf. Like I finally knew True Intimacy.

But for all that, it was... like, intimacy without romance. That romance
could never adequately describe it. I don't know how else to explain
things. Like our connection together was so deep, so endlessly deep and
wide, that could never be limited to simple romance. Like we had found some
secret, hidden version of ourselves that would outlast time. Together. A
deeper connection than humanly possible. And when we finally came, it was
like... nothing else in my life. Something that made me rethink everything
I knew.

It was a moment of pure magic. Wrapped in the best sex of my life.

*

Unfortunately, it wasn't to be repeated.

After that, I didn't know what to say to Garrett... what I could possibly
say. Hell, I didn't know what to think. My head was still reeling from that
night, knowing another guy brought me to a place I couldn't describe. That
a *married* guy brought me to a place I couldn't describe.

And then only a week or so later, I flew across the country to start my
summer fellowship. It went surprisingly well, and at the end they asked me
to come on full-time, with a salary I couldn't possibly say no to. I worked
things out with the university and my new employers to finish up my degree
remotely. The last time I went back there was to pack up everything for the
move north.

That was a whirlwind trip, as I essentially had 48 hours to get everything
into the cargo van I had rented. Garrett and Ellie both were absolute
heroes, and I could never have pulled it off without their help.  And... I
didn't feel like I deserved it. Like I was brushing aside
something... missing something. Something that hadn't even really come into
focus before vanishing.

That last morning, they both swung by to make sure I had everything and to
see me off. Garrett didn't say a word as he loaded up the last of the
boxes. When it was done, he just... hugged me. We stayed like that for a
long, long time. Silent. Absolutely silent. His scent, slightly touched
with fresh sweat, burned into my memory forever. While driving off, I saw
through my rear-view mirror that he walked to the middle of the street,
just watching... watching... until we couldn't see each other anymore.

I cried most of the first hour of my drive.

That chapter of my life was over, and a new one started. Garrett and I
stayed in touch, as much as young guys ever do. A few years later, when I
found the perfect girl, he came up to be one of my groomsmen. It was a
whirlwind week, and I barely got to talk to him alone before the
wedding. But all those memories, all the feelings, and all that closeness
instantly came back, like we had never been apart. But I was still missing
something. Something I couldn't explain. And had no right to expect.

But you know, it's curious. He just called me the other day... he's going
to coming to my city for a conference in a few weeks. Staying at one of the
big hotels downtown connected to the convention center.

...And I wonder...

* * *

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