Everyone is 18+ and fully consenting.
Chapter 2: Pond Time
Brooks tried it again later that night, but I brushed his hand away.
When he tried again the next morning, I was still half asleep, lying on my back with the blanket kicked off, and I felt the couch shift underneath me before I felt anything else. My mouth tasted like the morning time, not good. There was crust in the corners of my eyes. I could smell myself, a stale, partially sweaty, slept-in smell. I sensed what was about to happen, and even though I needed a shower, badly, he didn't seem to care. If anything, he seemed even more eager than the night before, just with his body movement. He pulled my waistband down without any ceremony and dropped his face into my crotch, taking a big whiff without any ceremony, just doing his thing.
So I let him, and I didn't say anything at all. I put my forearm over my eyes to block the light coming through the blinds, and I felt his curly, short hair brush my hip first, then his breath on my skin. A part of me wasn't sure if I wanted this to be a "habit", but as soon as I felt the warm velvet of his mouth taking me in slowly, my thoughts flipped.
The couch kept shifting under his weight, threatening to wake up my parents. He worked me up and down with patience, one hand flat on my thigh to hold me still, his thumb moving in a small circle, the other gripping my shaft and keeping it aimed at his mouth for me. I could hear him breathing through his nose, and I loved it, again, so much so that I gave him his breakfast squirt in less than a minute, unannounced.
I reached my hand down to his head and held it there. That was all the signal he needed, he pushed as hard as he could, just almost putting it into his throat, as I pulsed and released. I watched, amazed, seeing my buddy's strained face in the daylight while I had an orgasm, inside him.
"Good boy," I said without thinking, immediately regretting it. He seemed to enjoy it, responding with a light attempt at a groan that didn't really exit his chest.
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It became a regular thing after that. Every time we hung out after that, his basement, my couch, the back of his car in the school lot, where we still hung out sometimes, meeting friends who were getting out of summer classes, there'd come a point where we would get sort of quiet, and I knew he'd just reach over without a word, his hand finding my thigh.
If I was in the mood, and I usually was, I'd shift my hips down a little, sink deeper into whatever seat I was in, and let him do his perviness on me, always finishing in his mouth. He never asked out loud, and I preferred it that way.
It was pretty nice, honestly, getting serviced like that so often, casually and with a friend. Before this period, my sex life had mostly just been my own hand and whatever girls would post on social media, a late at night, quick and slightly guilty thing I did alone. Now there was a friend's mouth that had become an endless fountain of oral sex, whenever I wanted, usually before I even realized I was in the mood for it. I think he trained me like Pavlov's dog. Being alone with him, after a few minutes, I would subconsciously expect it without realizing it. And it felt like being naughty. Like getting away with something bad, over and over.
One day, we went deep in the woods, for no real reason. We were trying to go farther than we had gone before, an attempt we had done several times in the past, but always given up when we got too far into the wilderness. Today, though, we had left early, and by mid afternoon we were passing spots we had never been before, confirmed with the GPS on our phones. When we got to a cool pond we had never seen before, we decided to stop. We had found the right spot for the day.
He ended up sitting on his butt on the ground somehow, back against a tree, knees up, bark and dirt under him, while I stood over him and fed my dick into his mouth. The angle was different out here, better, and I started going harder than I normally did, harder than the couch ever allowed. He didn't pull off. He reached around and grabbed my ass with both hands and pulled me into him, fingers digging in, telling me without saying anything to go even harder. So I did. Birds somewhere. His nose against me every time I pushed forward.
I suddenly wanted to get closer to him, and I got down on my knees, he kicked off his shorts, leaving his white t shirt on, and faced me as he dropped onto all fours, shoving my dick back into his mouth like he was starving, and I went back to fucking his face as hard as he wanted me to.
I started looking at his bubbly mounds of ass from my angle above him. They were so round and meaty and aesthetic, framed by the hem of the white t-shirt riding up his back. Two clean, pale curves where his tan stopped, dusted with fine hair and a smear of dirt on one cheek from the ground. The muscle in them flexed a little every time he rocked forward onto me.
"I want this," I said as I leaned forward to grip it, and the words came out strained. It felt like a confession, admitting I wanted this too. I wasn't just humoring him, even if that was already obvious.
He groaned around my dick, a sound I felt the vibration from more than I heard it. He almost seemed surprised. But It was clear that he liked when I touched him. I'd figured that out already from the way he'd lean into any contact I gave him,but today I wanted to do it even more, just for his sake. I played with his butt, dragging my palm over the curve of it, feeling the give and the flex, the softness and the firm parts, even wiping off the grit of dirt that had gotten on his skin.
"It's nice," I said, and he surprised me as he suddenly pressed his head forward, forcing me past the point he'd always stopped at before, deep throating me for the first time.
"Oh my god," I said, and the words came out cracked. My fingers dug into his cheeks firmly, holding on like I'd fall over otherwise.
I couldn't help myself, and I don't even know what came over me, but my free hand went to the back of his head, fingers pushing into his curls, damp at the roots with his sweat, and I held him down and thrust into him, rapid and greedy, not asking, not checking, just taking what he'd opened up to me.
It felt like losing my virginity, honestly, as I truly throat fucked him for the first time. A hot, tight, wet, willing tube that took my dick so hard my balls slapped against his chin, an obscene wet clap that carried out over the pond and into the trees.
He gagged after a few seconds, his whole back seizing under the white t-shirt, even making his butt cheeks tense up. And I let him go, my hands up quickly like I'd touched a hot stove. He leaned back on his heels and coughed, his eyes running, a thread of spit swinging from his lip to the tip of my throbbing rod.
But he never stopped touching me. His hand found my dick while he was still catching his breath, and he stroked me through the coughing, his thumb sliding easy over the head. Even that part felt better than normal, his throat juices slicking over everything, warm and thick and slimy and perfect. He looked up at me with red eyes and his lips swollen and red and shining with wetness. He didn't seem embarrassed at all. He seemed pleased. Like he was happy he'd done it.
"That felt so good," I said. My chest was heaving, and the birds were audible again now that we were quietly catching our breath. "...more?"
He dove back down without saying anything, without even a nod, using his mouth to answer me without words, the squishy blowjob noises taking over the atmosphere once again.
I looked and watched him work for my pleasure, and thought about how I really admired his muscular form, and all the work he had put into athletics over the prior year. I could see his shoulder muscles tensing as his head moved between them. His fitness had really served me well since I became a physical component of his life.
He put me back into his throat and I saw nirvana again, and it only made me want more.
"I gotta fuck you," I said, "Please."
He didn't say anything. He just stood up, unfolding from the grass he had been crouched on, wiping a leaf from the back of his thigh, and put both palms flat against the tree, letting his weight settle into his shoulders. He arched his back, presenting himself to me. I held his hips and adjusted him, just barely, to reveal his perfect, pink hole. I giggled as I pressed up behind him, my dick making contact with his ass. It was kind of funny, thinking about having sex with a friend, after how many hours we'd sat next to each other in lecture halls or in the passenger seat of his car with the windows down or just on a couch doing nothing, and now here I was, one hand pressing into his lower back, while my wet dick pressed up and down his ass, looking for another hole to stuff.
I pressed it in quickly, a little too fast for him, and he reached back and held my hip with one hand. I slowed down for him and stayed where I was, feeling the tight ring of him tensing around me, holding me tightly, slowly relaxing in short waves. I felt his back expand and contract under my other hand as he breathed through it.
When his fingers loosened on my leg, I pressed forward again. He tilted his head back, his eyes closed, and exhaled into the bark.
I started thrusting in short bursts, and soon I was actually doing my friend for the first time, which meant I was also technically losing my virginity, but I tried and failed to not to think about it like that. The feeling in me was wild. I'd imagined it a hundred different ways over the years and none of them had been this, my buddy Brooks turning out to be a lover of cock and actively pursuing my man-rod in both ends of his body.
But I liked that all this pleasure was happening out in nature, with this pond that I would never forget, leaning against a tree that was seeing more than it probably wanted to, dirt and wild grass on my bare feet, my best friend's white t-shirt bunched up under his arms and his shoulder blades sliding around.
Just to really commemorate this for what it was, I reached around and touched his hard dick for the first time. It was strange to hold one that was bigger than mine, my hand wrapping around it in this slightly uncanny lack of familiarity with a familiar type of object. It was heavy in my hands, and it was hot to the touch. It was wet already at the tip, and my hand didn't quite know the three-dimensional geometry of it, from behind. It was like jerking off myself, but from far away, weirdly.
He leaned back into me, tensing and pulling, trying to take me deeper, but at his own pace, and I let him do it until I was all the way in and my hips were flush against him, my pubes pushing against his skin. It felt so stupidly good that I knew immediately I was crossing over the edge soon. I stroked him hard, and I felt the exact second his body went past the point of no return. He started to throb against my palm, and his breath got short and fast, scraping in his raspy throat as he released the smallest involuntary moans. His whole body locked up and his ass tightened on me in pulses, gripping and letting go, gripping again, and that was it, that was all it took. I was over the edge seconds later.
I held his hips with both hands and drove into him rapidly, chasing it as my hand got covered in his warm seed. I took my own pleasure from his insides while he writhed in the same pleasure I was feeling, sagging against the tree so that I had to reach my free hand underneath his abdomen to hold him up. It went on even longer than I expected, wave after wave, until finally there was nothing left in either of us.
"Damn," I said, coming down from it, my ears ringing a little as I slowly pulled out of him.
He didn't answer. He just peeled his t-shirt off over his head, dropped it in the dirt, and walked into the water naked, and I followed him in.
After the sex was over, he got to be more of his normal self again. He dunked me a few times, showing off his strength, and I took it. I couldn't stop looking at him.
After a while, he just floated around casually on his back. I went up and held his body. He didn't flinch, even though he should've expected me to dunk him. I lifted him by his butt, feeling it, feeling the meat of him again, putting my fingers between the cheeks and feeling for the hole, like I was double checking it was real. I raised him so his junk broke the surface of the water, exposed to the air in the sunlight. I watched the pond water run off of it, his pubes absorbing the water.
I looked at his dick, and thought about how much he had sucked me lately, and gotten basically nothing in return. I leaned down, holding his body in my hands, floating at the surface, and put it in my mouth, feeling no repulsion about it at all.