Did You Cum?
My buddy Steve was a friend of mine going way back. He was my oldest friend. Despite our flaws we stuck with each other through good times and bad. Forging a path through dating and marriages and divorces.
The first time anything happened was a late Saturday night before either of us ever had a girlfriend. We had nothing to do and somehow decided to watch a porno.
After a bit we both had shy hard-ons but neither of us admitted it. Right away we each had blankets pulled up high with our hands stuffed discretely in our pants.
I didn't use my usual technique for fear of being heard or worse yet seen, but instead I pulled on my timid erection with only my fingertips and a loose wrists. Still, the blanket puffed up and down in a way that seemed too obvious.
In time I heard his breathing get deeper, then resolve. That was the only clue that he was doing the same thing I was. Suddenly he stood up, "Well, gotta get going." As he was heading for the door he turned his head back, "Did you cum too?"
"Um no." I didn't want to admit that I'd been jacking despite gradually becoming aware that his words were an admission. Then I didn't want to appear to be unable, "I just needed a few more minutes."
"Ok man. Just keep that video going. See you tomorrow." Like I needed advice on how to do what I'd been doing daily for years now.
As soon as he let himself out I threw the blanket off and started beating like mad. In no time several large dollops of cum coated the back of my hand. My chest was heaving from the quick physical work-out that I had needed so badly.
It was a year or two before we had any sort of repeat. We were both between girlfriends when that second event happened and we found ourselves watching a baseball game. When it ended Steve asked out of the blue, "Got any porn?"
I put my only tape in the VCR. It was named creatively, "Three Hours of Blowjob Compilations." With lots of commentary about the girls and a few about the cocks he finally did what we were both thinking, "I gotta rub one out, Dude." Saying that he just unzipped and started pulling on a rapidly growing organ.
I followed suit, occasionally stealing glances and catching him stealing glances too though I was disappointed not to get a great view. After about twenty minutes I heard him groan as he climaxed. Wiping himself with kleenex he asked without looking, "Did you cum?"
I had to explain, "This tape is getting a little stale for me. It's gonna take me some more time."
"OK, well I gotta get going." He was going to walk right past my chair as I anxiously debated whether it was better for me to cover up modestly or keep stroking loud and proud.
The blanket was out of reach and we'd just been beating off in a dimly lit room yet in full view of each other for almost half an hour. I kind of moved my hand to block the full show but also didn't want to appear ashamed by stopping.
The path out took him behind my recliner; he actually stopped there. Then crouching and looking over my shoulder he said, "You're packin' some heat there." The compliment boosted my ego but made me think about two other things: first, that he was actively looking at my hard dick, and second, that he was comparing our dicks and probably mine was bigger. I formed this image of our two cocks lined up side by side with mine being so clearly longer. I would have said something dumb like, "When you're packing you're packing." It would have been a boast but not a direct insult. But I stayed coyly quiet.
In the actual moment, I felt self-conscious even as I kept stroking. After a few long minutes of being watched he stood, patted me on the head with the same hand that had just been pleasuring his dick, and left with this comment, "You got this, man!"
I knew I had it! I would have zero problems cumming except for maybe being watched and possibly judged. But when he was gone the loud fapping filled the room until I bubbled over, wetting my stomach in runny jackjuice.
It's not like he was always like this. Just these two times - so far.
When he got married we both woke up after a drunken night's bachelor party. Everyone else had gone. The porn was still playing in an endless loop on the CD player. Returning to the land of the living slowly, we opened dreary bloodshot eyes to the sight of some wild shit in that movie.
The next thing you know we were both beating furiously and unabashed. The hangover seemed to prolong things and the lingering alcohol lowered inhibitions. I wasn't as bold as him and avoided looking directly at his penis. But if it were truly smaller than mine I wanted that affirmation.
I can't say I was a hundred percent surprised when he reached over to take over wanking my cock. I had inklings that this was possible. Furthermore, it just seemed right that the guy with the smaller unit would please the man with the larger one.
At his subtle urging I reached over to stroke his too. Turnabout and all. I was surprised to learn that his, while about the same length as mine, was significantly thicker. In that one measurement, it turned out, he was the one with the more manly package.
It was his right hand on me and my left hand on him so eventually he suggested I move to get a better right-handed grip. I had to turn one-eighty.
I had a good grip on his cock and loved making him throw back his head with his eyes closed. Meanwhile, I pulled on my own with my other hand, getting closer and closer.
With some erratic hip gyrations he announced his orgasm with a simple, "I'm cumming."
Spectacularly, spoo shot up a few inches, landing on his stomach and my hand. Steve grabbed a tissue then hastily and haphazardly cleaning up exclaimed, "Shit! I'm late for picking out china."
Half way out the door he called back, "Did you cum buddy?" If I'd had more time before he jumped up I would have.
"You kinda finished quickly there. Didn't give me a chance."
"No worries. You just take care of it and remember how I'm gonna be stuck lookin' at boring old china while you get to look at those sluts on the screen." Except I didn't get my turn to receive a handy.
I did remember him while he was gone. The cum on my hand which got rubbed into my cock was a constant erotic reminder. The memory of handling his cock and watching it spurt also inspired me to do the same. I massaged his slick cum into the sensitive skin on my pole until it turned sticky. Then I announced my orgasm to the empty room in a series of primitive grunts. My own load now coated my dick which I now leisurely and admittedly weirdly spread over my rod and even down to my balls, all the while perversely pretending it was his.
Before I got married whic was about a year later, we had another wild bachelor party and again woke up with it being just the two of us. We were in a cabin so there was no way to stream any good porn. "Davey, you're gonna lose your freedom in just a few days now. We can take care of things just one more time before we're both married and it gets - more complicated." Well, nothing like just blurting out what I was secretly thinking.
We whipped out our cocks, strokin' each other to rigidity in no time. For the second time he suggested that my left hand wasn't up to the task, "If you get between my legs you can use your better hand."
He began a tawdry commentary, "Oh that's right, buddy. You're doing such a good job with my cock. Don't forget to service your own too now." Both my hands were flying wildly on both our cocks.
Steve kinda leaned forward and putting his hands on my head, gradually drew me closer so he could look me right in the eyes, "I'm gonna give you some advice now as one married guy to one who's about to take the plunge. After you get married the sex dies down quite a bit. I think I jerk off more now than when I was single. And with the pregnancy I haven't had an assisted release for months. You gotta relish these times when us men can get together for hunting or fishing or just watching sports or what not." I nodded, understanding that he was really talking about the 'what not'.
With me still stroking our cocks he presumptiously and unexpectedly pulled my lips down to his thick member. It soon felt inevitable to take my friend's thick dick in my mouth. "You're doing us real good. You know what you are?" He waited for me to make eye contact which made me blush given the taboo of it all. I feared he was about to use the word 'cocksucker' until he answered the question, "A natural."
Honestly, I was growing used to finding myself there and yet I still owned the blame for putting myself in that position.
"Yea, I like what you're doing there, Davey. You know Sheila stopped sucking when that ring was put on her finger. But you're my pal, a stand up guy. Take it deeper Dave. Make us cum. I'm doing all I can to help us cum faster. I'm imagining a real hot slut clamped to my cock and I'm giving you the best best dick-jerks I can. You're better than Sheila, you know. And I don't have to tip-toe around or worry about offending you like you have to with girls."
His monologue went on forever, "I washed really good last night so it would taste good for you. Are you almost there? 'Cause I'm almost there." I felt those dick-jerks he had mentioned. And it did taste good.
I stopped my slutty sucking long enough to answer, "I'm almost there. Give me some time."
Two fast minutes later Steve pulled on my head, driving me deeper than I'd been yet which only hurt a little. With an obscene yell he shot streams of jizz into my cocksucking mouth.
I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, swallowing his slime and reflecting that it wasn't that bad. Certainly not as bad as my fiance made it out to be.
In a second, Steve was packing our bags for the long drive home while I was still on my knees naked from the waist down. Then he stopped, "Hey, did you cum?"
"No." I complained, "I said I needed a few more minutes." Much to my surprise Steve dropped his pants and sat his ass right back in the chair where he had been minutes before.
I stared at his limp cock wondering what his plan was. I looked at his face expectantly. He smiled this shit-eating grin, "Do whatever makes you cum Davey. Suck it or stroke it, whatever."
The gall! To think that I needed his cock to cum. But making a stink about it would waste precious time.
I needed to cum. And I sure didn't need his cock. So I closed my eyes imagining my girl Sandy was standing there naked before me. In my mind I could smell her pussy as I nuzzled my nose into her lush red bush.
