The First Time a Male Friend Gave Me Head 03: Naked Goodbye

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Chapter 3: Naked Goodbye

July arrived and the mood was still horny, but also, maybe, a little sad that things would be ending soon. Brooks was leaving for some athletic camp before school started, a whole training thing that ate up the back half of the summer, and after that he wasn't coming home, he was just going straight to campus. So we had weeks. Then we had days. I kept doing that math every morning first thing, without even realizing I was doing it, lying in my bed and looking at the date on my phone, counting how many days I had left with Brooks.

We had spent eleven years wearing down that strip of grass between our houses, and I'd never once thought about the time running out. The field back there was the same as it had always been, the dead line of dirt where the yards met, and for the first time I realized that it was going to end at some point. I walked across it and thought about how there wouldn't be anyone to keep it worn down anymore. By the time we came back for Thanksgiving, there would probably be weeds growing over it. His mom would still live there. The house would still be there. But the bike would be gone and the path would grow back, and neither of us would be around to see it happen.

I didn't say any of that to him, though. We didn't really talk like that, about anything that was sad or heavy. But it sat with me more and more as the impending moving day got closer, and every dumb, normal afternoon was also possibly the last of its kind. I couldn't tell if he felt it too or if he was just being Brooks about it, taking it fine.

My mom made it worse, in her usual way. She had him over for dinner twice that last week, and both times she cooked like it was a holiday, all the good stuff that she normally only pulled out when relatives came over. She kept saying things at the table like "our Brooks" and "look at you, off to be a big shot," and she'd get a little wet in the eyes and then cover it by getting up to grab something from the kitchen.

Brooks ate it up. He always did with her. He said please and thank you and complimented the food multiple times, and she loved him for it, like always.

On the last visit, walking him out to the door, she grabbed his hand and pressed a folded wad of bills into it. I saw it happen. He tried to give it back, said no, Mrs., come on, and she closed his fingers over it with both her hands and told him to buy himself something good at school or gas or whatever, and don't you dare tell your mother I did that.

He hugged her for a long moment, and she patted his back and sniffed and told him to go on before she started crying for real. He caught my eye over her shoulder while he was still holding her and did a little thing with his mouth. I looked at the money in his fist and had to look at something else.

····[]····

The next day it was just us at my house, nobody else home. There was a movie on that neither of us was watching. He didn't ask and I didn't say anything, but at some point his hand found my leg the way he'd been doing this Summer.

He got my shorts down and got his mouth on me without a word, starting at full drive since he knew I didn't need a warmup. He knew what he was doing by then, after weeks of frequent oral, and he could read me off a look. I sank back into the couch and let him work, his head moving in my lap, and it was easy to forget the sad part of everything for a minute.

I don't know why I asked it right then. I had his mouth on me and my hand gripping his hair, lightly studying his face while he pleasured me.

"You excited?" I said. "For college... Gonna be a ton of guys there, man. You'll have your pick of new dicks."

He slowed and pulled off, just the head still against his lips, and he looked up at me from my lap. He didn't answer for a second.

"I dunno," he said, mumbling around my cock.

"A whole new place full of freedom? Nobody knows you." I did a little laugh. "You could do this every night. I definitely look forward to losing my virginity."

"You already lost it," he said flatly. "We lost it."

"No. Yeah. You know what I mean. I don't know."

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and kept looking at me, and there was something patient in it, like I was being slow on purpose. His curly hair had gotten a little long at this point in the Summer, and a chunk of it fell forward onto his forehead.

"I'm just gonna miss you," he said.

I just smiled a bit, feeling sweet and sad at the same time. I moved my hand in his hair, and after a second the corner of his lip pulled up again, and he ducked back down and took me in again, deeper than before, and we didn't say anything else about it.

He worked me for a while like that, really slowly, taking his time nursing me. His jaw had gotten more stamina over the Summer. He didn't have to rush things anymore, not when we had all day. My hand stayed in his hair. I'd stopped watching the TV a while ago.

When I got close he could tell, and he did the thing he'd figured out worked on me, sucking his own finger wet and reaching under me to my ass while his mouth kept going. He pushed it up into my hole quickly but carefully, and my whole body jumped. It was somehow still a surprise almost every time. Everything pulling in toward that one spot in my ass, and his mouth sucked the squirts out of me as I started to release. My back arched off the couch. I grabbed a fistful of his hair involuntarily.

"Fuck," I got out, and I felt my orgasm pulse through my body in waves, then a big rush all at once, and he kept me right there, my asshole throbbing on his finger and my dick experiencing nirvana in his mouth while he swallowed my emanations.

"I'm really gonna miss you too, dude."

—[]—

The last night before he left, we did a sleepover at his place. His room was mostly boxed up by then, the posters gone, pale rectangles on the wall where they'd been. Most of his stuff was already loaded in his dad's truck for the drive. The bed was still there and a lamp and a screen propped on a moving box, and that was about it.

He'd blown me twice already that day, once in the morning and once after his mom made lunch, so I wasn't expecting much dick time that night, even if it was his last evening at home. We put a movie on the propped-up screen and lay on the bed in the mostly empty room and tried to talk, but we started to come up short of conversation.

That was the strange part. We'd never had to try before. Friends for eleven years, we would go a whole afternoon on no specific rhythm of conversation, just saying whatever comes to mind and digging into it, absorbing ourselves into each other. But that day, there were gaps we couldn't fill, little silences. I'd start to say something about school and it would die. He'd start something in response and let it drop. We just watched the light from the screen move on the empty walls and lay close to each other, because that was the one thing we still knew how to do. We had a conversation with our bodies.

I don't fully know what I was after. Something, though. It felt like the night deserved to be something more than a boring, regular night.

I reached down and pulled my shorts off, and my underwear with them, and kicked them off the end of the bed. I wasn't sure exactly where I was going with it, but I had a feeling it was going to involve nudity.

He caught it out of the corner of his eye, and smiled as shifted down the bed and got into his position, the one he knew, on all fours, staring down at my dick and balls. He was ready to do the thing he'd done a hundred times for me at that point.

But as he dropped his head, I put my hand up to hold him gently, stopping him before he took me in. I lifted my legs up, and I nudged him lower, past where he was headed, down toward my ass.

He stopped and looked up at me for a second, his eyes coming into view over my balls, reflecting the light of the TV screen in them. Then he stuck his tongue out and did what I had directed, and I felt his tongue on me, warm and flat as he slowly dug in, learning a new skill on me. When he hardened his tongue and pressed in firmly, the sensation shot up through me like nothing had before. My leg twitched with the wet penetration. It felt so much better than his finger had, which was already good when I was close to the edge already. This was like a whole new type of sexual feeling.

I put my hand back on his head and pushed him deeper into it, and he groaned against me and got into it as he made out with my ass, munching on me like I was a tasty snack. I lay there in his emptied-out room letting my best friend do that, and it felt like the truest goodbye either of us had come up with all week.

"Fuck me," I whispered. I heard myself say it before I thought about it, and I didn't take it back. "If you want."

He didn't say anything as he came up off me, kneeling for a second between my legs, and then he got up on his knees and I saw him take himself in his hand, heavy and hard, and point it at me. I closed my eyes and braced, my whole body pulling tight in anticipation.

I heard him spit. Then his hand on the back of my thigh, and the warm, wet head of him up against me, and he pressed forward. Slowly. He eased it into me by the millimeter, stopping, going, giving me time, and it burned, a bright, stretching fire that still felt weirdly good, and it was weird, plain weird, my body not sure what was happening to it. I made a sound. He stopped.

"Keep going," I said through my teeth

I wanted it, however weird it was, and I didn't have the words for why, except that it was Brooks and he deserved to have every part of me before he left.

He kept going, and started thrusting. I watched his muscular body tense on top of me, my best friend who had always had a thinly veiled little crush on me. I let him continue to fuck me. And while he worked deeper into me, he reached down and took my dick in his hand and started stroking me in time with his thrusts. That was the trick of it, and I started to like all of it. The stroking pulled my mind to another dimension as I dealt with the mix of strange and pleasurable sensations, all in the service of a greater good. 

My body loosened around him a little at a time, my ass becoming more accommodating as he got more into it. His body started to clap against me. The burn dulled down under the good feeling he was building at the front of me, and after a minute I stopped bracing so hard. After another minute I wasn't bracing at all, and even though I knew I was going to be sore afterward, I gripped him with my legs and pulled him harder into me, encouraging him to slam me with all his strength. His balls were smacking against my ass as he worked himself closer to the point of ecstasy, his hips smacking against my thighs. I kind of couldn't believe that I didn't mind it.

He started to say something. "Can I…" was all he got out.

"Yeah," I said before he could finish it. "Do it."

He bit his lip and started thrusting even harder, lifting my body into the air so only my head and shoulders were touching the fabric beneath me. He looked down at my ass, at himself going into me, and I watched him let it all go. He shoved in to the hilt, all the way, a deep and stretching thrust, and I grunted, and he did it again, and a few more times, faster, his hands gripping me hard enough to leave a mark. Then he stopped, and I felt him pulsing inside me, the throb pounding against my inner walls, wave after wave. And I lay there and took it, picturing his seed flooding my body, giving me his warmth. He gave my dick a couple quick, firm strokes, and I squirted out as well. Since my body was above me, I streaked my own face and neck with every throbbing release until I was drained. 

My best friend and I came at the same time while he fucked me. Eleven years of friendship, and this is where we got to on the last night living in the same town. I braced my legs around him and let him empty out as he slowly lowered my body back down. He'd earned this, and more than I'd ever given him back.

He shuddered at the end and sank down over me, his forehead dropping to my shoulder, and let out a long breath against my neck.

He pulled out slow, and I felt the emptiness of it, which I hated, even if it was a slight relief. He didn't reach for his clothes. He stayed naked and crawled up the bed and lay down beside me on the half-packed mattress, close to me, warm all throughout his body.

I reached over and pulled the covers up over both of us. The movie was still going on the propped-up screen, which we'd both missed the whole middle of, and for once we just let it play. I turned into him and got my arm across his chest, and pulled him in against me tight, the way he'd always wanted it and I'd never once done first. My dick rested against the curve of his ass. He settled back into me and went still, and we lay there like that and actually watched the rest of the movie, the light moving over the pale squares on his emptied walls, neither of us having to say what we meant to each other.