So he bends over to pick up the bottle opener, his jeans so far down you can see his arse inside his boxers, and I say, "Fuckin' 'ell, Tyler! Are you deliberately flashin' me an eyeful o' wank-fodder!"
He turned to grin at me, still bending over, and reached round to the back his boxers to yank them down a bit and show off his chubby white cheeks. He made a stupid face like some porn tart over-doing it and called out, "Oh, bum me arse, Nick! Bum it dead hard!"
"Seriously, mate," I laughed, "any more o' that, an' I'll be whackin' off all night, re-livin' the moment!"
His arse did look really nice, the part of it I could see. I liked the way his crack was gaping open a bit from where he was bending forwards, and how his butt-hair was sprouting like a thicket inside it.
"What, for real, Nick?" he grinned, pulling his boxers and jeans back up and standing up with the bottle opener. "You'd proper wank off thinkin' about my arse?"
"Of course I would!" I laughed. "You know I'm a bender, mate!"
I'd told him I was gay when we'd been like eighteen or something.
"Yeah, but you know I'm not," he said, sitting back down in the armchair and opening another beer.
"My brain knows yer straight, yeah, but my prick doesn't much care! And an arse is an arse when a gay lad's poundin' the pork!"
"But d'ya think about my arse, Nick?" he asked after taking a gobful of drink. "I mean, d'ya think of my arse in particular when you're bonin' off?"
I paused, pretending like I suddenly needed a swig from my own bottle, while I thought about my answer. I didn't want to freak him out - make him scared that I might fancy him or something - but I didn't want to lie and make out that I didn't find him attractive.
So in the end I pussied out and asked him back, "Would it bother you if I did?"
He shrugged. "I dunno... mebbe not. I suppose I'd figured you might think about... you know... my dick and stuff. But my arse..."
He thought about it for a few seconds, taking another drink from his bottle, before deciding, "Well, since yer gay I suppose it's a bit obvious that you'd jerk off thinkin' about what my bum looks like."
I nodded, pleased he'd answered his question for himself.
"You should be flattered, mate," I grinned, "it's not every bloke's arse that has me whackin' me stalk off over it!"
He chucked but I could see from his face that he was thinking over what this really meant.
"So do you just think about what it looks like...? Or do you..."
He looked across at me, his eyes on mine. He muttered, "You don't mind me askin' you this sort o' stuff, do you?"
"Of course, I don't," I smiled, trying to lighten the mood a bit. "Since it's your arse, Tyler... I guess you have a right to know what I'm thinkin' about it!"
He smiled back but he still looked serious.
"Do you imagine doin' stuff with it?"
I shrugged. "Sometimes... yeah..."
"Touchin' it?"
"Yeah..."
"Stickin' your knob up it?"
I paused and then nodded before admitting with a small blush, "Or other things..."
"Other things? Like what?"
Now he looked terrified, like I'd been imagining ramming a fucking truncheon up there or something.
"I just mean my finger... or my tongue..."
"Your tongue! Fuckin' hell, Nick - steady on, mate!"
"What's up?" I said, surprised that he'd be so shocked. "It's what gay lads do, Tyler! There's always blokes doin' it to each other in gay porn."
"Mebbe there is... but Jesus! I 'ad no idea you was into doin' stuff like that!"
I smiled at him, still trying to make this a bit more lightweight.
"Come on, mate - you like lickin' a girl's minge out before you shove your dick up it," I said. It wasn't a question - he went on about how horny he thought it was all the time. "Well, I like lickin' a lad's tush just the same!"
"But it's his fuckin' arse!" he said back, totally appalled at the idea. "I mean it'd be bad enough pushin' your cock up the hole another fella shits through... but stickin' your tongue up it... tell me yer fuckin' kiddin', dude!"
"Straight up, Tyler. It's called rimming a dude out and it's not dirty or nasty or anything like that. First time I did it I couldn't believe how horny I got!"
"What, doin' it or havin' it done to you?"
"Both ways, mate," I grinned. In a funny sort of way I was pleased we were having this conversation and being upfront about stuff. "You'd think it'd be awful, stickin' yer face into some dude's arse crack, but believe me, Tyler - for a gay guy it's total heaven!"
"Jesus," he said again, staring at me like a goldfish and looking more blown out than he had the night I'd told him I fancied guys not girls.
"So that's what you think about doin', is it?" he asked eventually. "Wanking yer prick off, thinkin' about gettin' down behind me and 'avin' a lick of me arse?"
"Sometimes, yeah," I admitted.
"And does it really get you goin'? I mean, can you actually spunk up thinkin' of lickin' my shitter?"
I was surprised by the question because he'd never asked me stuff like this. He was often keen to joke about whacking off himself and the girls and scenarios that had made his spunk start shooting, but he'd always just ignored the fact that for me things don't quite work the same way.
"Not always," I replied. "I like to think about other stuff too..."
"Like what?"
"I told you - I sometimes think about what it'd be like to finger it. Or goin' a bit further and... you know..."
"Shovin' yer dick up it?" he reminded me.
I nodded and asked him "Does all this bother you, mate?"