Mark and I met when we were just out of school and both still shocked by the boring but exhausting jobs we had landed at a major investment firm. The culmination of years of schooling (and thousands in debt run up,) and it SUCKED. We had side-by-side cubicles smaller than regulation prison cells, and everyone ranked higher than us. We exchanged polite greetings every morning, rueful nods as we limped home to our crappy apartments every evening, and sometimes a hurried, greasy lunch at an alarmingly grimy diner near the office. I guess this went on for a year or more before one Friday afternoon he leaned around the dividing wall between our cubicles and whispered, "I'm hitting the singles bars tonight. Wanna be my wing-man?"
I saved the document I was working on. "Yeah, why not? Felicia is out of town again; Berlin or Paris or somewhere, I forget."
Then things got busy and we slaved away the afternoon. We met at a bar later that night and had a good time. We were so busy talking, commiserating on our boring lives, that we barely took time out to hit on the girls crowded into the place. I was technically committed to Felicia anyway. When she was in town. Which was basically never, because she was an airline pilot. But when she WAS in town we generally spent the whole time in bed.
The weekend night out turned into a regular habit, and something to look forward to for both of us. Occasionally Mark picked up a woman there, who joined us for a few weeks before drifting away, but often it was just the two of us. A couple of times Felicia actually got a weekend off and we double-dated.
One day Mark invited me out to lunch, his treat, so I couldn't very well refuse, although I had an oddly uneasy feeling about it. Sure enough, when we were waiting for our sandwiches, he nervously blurted out, "I guess we've known each other long enough, but I really hate to ask you..."
I raised my eyebrows. "You about to pop the question?" I said jokingly.
"Sort of. My lease is up and I gotta move...and I kind of need some help. If you wouldn't mind. This weekend."
I didn't have any convenient excuses, and what the hell. He was the closest friend I had. Including Felicia, who became more cool and distant every time I saw her. "'Course I'll help you. Hope you don't have a grand piano though."
"Nah. I don't have much of anything. It's just this big old couch that I'm going to have trouble with. I hired a couple of guys and a truck, but they won't take the stuff in or out of upstairs apartments. So I gotta get everything down to the lobby and they'll take it from there."
"Assholes," I said. "I bet you're paying upstairs prices anyway."
He shrugged. "Best I could do. But anyway, I sure appreciate the help and I'll make sure it's worth your while."
That Saturday morning I showed up at Mark's apartment early. I could see why he might want to move. My place was a dump, but his was worse. And he didn't have much to move. He'd packed most of it in cardboard boxes. And then there was the couch. It was a monster. More like a massive overstuffed bed than a couch.
"Maybe you should have just sold the couch and buy a new one when you get there," I remarked. It looks like it's got more than a few miles on it."
Mark patted the couch affectionately. "Thought about it. But this old girl holds some happy memories. Practically every first piece of ass I've ever had was on this couch. Got it from my Mom. In fact I got my first ever pussy on this couch. Peggy Sue Martin after the senior prom."
"I guess that's as good a reason as any," I said ruefully. "So let's get started."
After a back-breaking and sweaty day we were done. Mark's new apartment wasn't anything special either, but we had everything in it, including the famous couch, upon which we finally collapsed holding cans of ice-cold beer thoughtfully pre-stocked by Mark. We drank the beer gratefully and had another.
Mark sighed, stretched, and said, "I figured I'd order a pizza. We probably have time to take quick showers before it gets here. You wanna go first?"
I did, after finding the box with the towels, and Mark dug up a couple of pairs of clean gym shorts and tee shirts. We were both cleaner and feeling good when the pizzas arrived. We devoured them like starving beggars, with another round of beers, and at last sat back contented.
"I got some dynamite weed last week," Mark said. "How about I dig that up and we watch a ball game or something?" He tossed the remote control for his enormous flat-screen TV to me.
I wasn't familiar with the remote and fiddled with buttons until the screen lit up. The first thing that came up was a large, erect cock, which was being gently stroked by a tiny Asian woman. She looked like she was getting ready to do more than stroke it. I was going to change the channel, but the woman looked kind of familiar...and I really wanted to see how much of it she could fit into her mouth, which I was pretty sure she was about to do.
Mark flopped back onto the couch next to me just as the bulging knob disappeared into the woman's rosebud mouth. He lit a joint, took a deep hit, and handed it to me before he noticed what was on the TV. "Oh God!" he exploded, smoke bursting from his nostrils. "I didn't know that disk was in there!" He grabbed for the remote and I held it away from him.
"Too late," I said. "I'm already hooked on the plot."
He grabbed the joint instead. "This is soooo embarrassing...." He took a hit, held it, and finally said, "She was a prime piece of ass, though. Tightest pussy I ever met."
"Wait a minute!" I guffawed. "Isn't that, uh, what's her name, the one you met at lunch that time?"
"Wendy," Mark said with a guilty grin. "Used to work in accounting, remember?"
"You dog! What happened to her? Went to work for the competition, didn't she?"
Mark nodded. "We were about done with each other anyway. You know how it goes. We got together to fuck a few times after she left, but when we didn't work at the same place any more we didn't have anything to talk about."
"Sounds good to me," I said. "I'd settle for that."
The weed was starting to kick in for both of us. "But you got Felicia," Mark noted. "I'd totally do her any time, on her terms. Oh shit; politically incorrect. Sorry, dude. But I would." He cracked up laughing.
"You asshole." I tried to hold back a belly-laugh and failed. When we'd both got our laughter stifled, I said, "Actually you're welcome to it, if you want to try. I think we're about done with each other too."
"Too bad. I feel for you, bro. You got her number handy?"
I suddenly realized that the dick Wendy was now sucking enthusiastically on TV almost certainly belonged to Mark and that she was doing it on the very couch we were sitting on. Duh. An awkward silence ensued, broken only by the slurping sounds coming from the TV. "So, uh, do you always record your, uh, encounters?"
"Nah. Just the ones I'm not ashamed of," Mark joked. "You ought to get you and Felicia on disk before you dump her. Something to jack off to when you're desperate."
I was pretty desperate most of the time, and at the moment I had a pretty fierce hard on from watching the show before me. "Yeah, maybe," I said weakly. "Doubt that she'd be into it though."
We watched in silence as Wendy squatted over the dick and started slowly working it into her pussy. "How the hell did she ever get that into her?" I wondered aloud.
"Slowly and with a lot of moaning," Mark quipped.
I surreptitiously glanced over at his lap. His straining boner showed clearly through his loose gym shorts. I never imagined he had such a big cock. But then I'd never really thought about it either.
"You wanna smoke another doobie?" Mark asked.
I shifted uncomfortably. "I ought to be getting home," I said. I started to stand and changed my mind. If I stood up my own boner would be more than obvious.
"I said I'd make this worth your while," Mark told me. "So sit back and relax a little."
"You mean beer, pizza and weed aren't all you had in mind?" I leered comically. "What else could I want? You going to get me laid too?"