"C'mon, I'm dying here," Chris pleaded. "I ain't had nothing but my hand for a week, dude."
We were deep in the woods behind our subdivision, which we used as a shortcut to the shopping mall where we hung out. Chris was bitching the whole way about not getting laid lately and had suddenly stopped, pulled his dick out of his pants, and asked (BEGGED) me to suck him.
"No way," I said. I was only half shocked. We'd joked about doing each other if the supply of pussy dried up, but I never expected him to be serious about it.
"Just once, 'cuz we're best friends," he said, moving closer to me. "I'll never tell anyone, I promise. Just get me off. It'll only be this once until I find another chick to bang."
We'd been best friends for as long as I could remember. However, we were unlikely best friends. Chris was a big, strapping young man, well over 6 feet and solidly built. He played football, basketball, and was captain of the track team at school. I, on the other hand, was a fairly small guy, barely 5' 5" and 110 pounds. Mom was tiny and I inherited her frame.
Chris was also the horniest son of a bitch I ever knew, too. I know of three girls at school he had been fucking plus Mrs. Jowett, the MILF down the street from us. I hadn't believed him that he was screwing her, but he managed to get the blinds cracked open once and I peek in from outside when he was slamming his dick into her. He also claimed to have screwed two teachers at school. And I mean AT school, on the campus grounds. I wasn't sure if I believed him or not, but it was plausible.
The only girl I ever had sex with was Stacy Jowett, Mrs. Jowett's oversexed daughter, but then again so had everyone else. She was a year older than us at 19, and Chris claimed that she was his first. She was my first, and probably a bunch of other guys, too.
While our senior year at high school was a sexual feast for him, graduation meant famine. Mrs. Jowett got pregnant, something of a miracle since her husband had had a vasectomy years before. I'd never know if the baby was Chris's or not....they moved shortly before graduation and nobody had heard from them since. The girls (and supposed teachers) were unavailable, and with both Stacy and Mrs. Jowett gone, he had nothing but his hand to relieve his pent-up frustrations.
"Dude, I'm getting blue balls," he griped. "If I don't get something soon, my balls are going to explode." As he said this, his hand slid down my arm and grabbed my hand, placing it on his rigid cock.
"Fuck, dude, I'm NOT going to suck your dick!" I tried to pull my hand away, but he held my wrist firmly.
"Don't you owe me for hooking you up with Stacy Jowett?" he asked. "Owe me just a little bit at least? Wasn't she a great fuck?"
His grip on my wrist starting moving my hand up and down his cock, stroking him. It wasn't an unpleasant sensation, to be honest. He had a big dick, much bigger than mine, and it did feel kind of good in my hand.
"Yeah, I do, I guess, a little bit," I admitted. "And yeah, she was a good fuck." I was being honest with the former, but not with the latter. The whole episode with Stacy lasted maybe 10 minutes, including time to undress and dress, and I was too nervous to even think about trying to make it good for her too. She just kinda laid there while I furiously rammed my dick in and out of her pussy until I came. She never asked for a repeat performance.
"Well, then, you see?" He gleamed. "And you're not sucking my dick, you're helping me out with a big problem. It's not gay or anything, just a best friend helping out his best friend."
Fuck. The way he put it, it sounded like no big deal, like helping him with his homework or giving him a hand mowing his dads yard. It didn't help that the more I stroked his cock, the more turned on *I* was getting. I don't know why, but I was.
"Just this once?" I asked, realizing that his grip on my wrist was gone and I was stroking his cock of my own volition.
"Just this once," he answered, grinning.
"And nobody, I mean NOBODY, ever finds out about it?" I said.
"Nobody. Ever," he promised.
I thought for a bit. As long as it was just this once and nobody found out about it, I would do it, I nodded and said, "Okay, how do we do this?"
He flashed a million-dollar smile at me. "Just get down on your knees," he said.
Without releasing my grip on his cock, I slowly sank to my knees.
"Now just lick it a bit, then put it in your mouth," he said.
Without a word, my tongue slowly extended and licked the very tip of his cock. The taste wasn't as nasty as I'd thought it'd be. I slowly circled his cockhead with my tongue, tasting his pre-cum that was already pearling at his slit.
"Yeah, like that," he groaned, looking down at me. "Now take the whole thing in your mouth."
My hand dropped away from his cock as my lips covered his cockhead. The first impression I had was that I liked the taste of his cock and the precum that was tangy and kind of spicy. He moaned as I slowly took his cock into my mouth until his cockhead nudged into the back of my throat, making me gag. I pulled back, then took him deep again. I quickly figured out how to take his cock deep in my mouth without me gagging, and started softly sucking as my mouth slid up and down his shaft. "God, your mouth feels fantastic," he said, his eyes clenched shut. His hands were resting on top of my head. My face flamed red at the compliment, whether from embarrassment or because I liked the compliment and shouldn't have.
After a minute or two of mouth sliding up and down his cock, his fingers curled around my hair and he started pumping his hips, driving his cock in and out of my mouth faster and harder.
"Jesus," he mumbled. "I'm gonna give you so much cum that you're gonna choke on it."
I'd stopped trying to service him, and just hung on for the ride. He was fucking my face furiously, shoving his cock almost down my throat with each push. Then, without warning, he threw his head back and groaned loudly as his pulsing cock shot jet after jet of hot, spicy cum into my mouth. I gagged, then swallowed, then swallowed again. He didn't stop fucking my mouth until the last weak throb pushed the remnants of his orgasm into my mouth.
"Yessssssssss," he hissed, slowly releasing the grip he had on my hair. "Damn, I needed that."
I stayed on my knees before him, feeling his cock start to soften in my mouth. My own dick was rock hard and throbbing in my pants....not that I'd admit that to him, of course. I shouldn't have enjoyed that but I had, and if I stood up at that moment my excitement would have been obvious to him.
He looked down at me, the sight of me on my knees with his cock in my mouth making it throb and threaten to grow again. I slowly pulled my head back, his cock popping out of my mouth and leaving a slimy trail on my lower lip and chin, then stood up. I quickly adjusted myself, hoping that he wouldn't see my hardon.
I should have asked him to return the favor, but somehow I knew he wouldn't now that his need had been satisfied. On top of that, I didn't want him to. I kind of enjoyed being the one sucking. I was quite amazed at that realization.
"Wipe your face, dude," he laughed. "You look like some fag that just sucked a guy off."
"Fuck you," I laughed back, quickly wiping my face with my sleeve.
He pushed his now-limp cock back into his pants and zipped his pants up, and we started walking towards the other side of the woods and the mall.
"Nobody finds out, right?" I said.
"Nobody," he promised.
We made it to the mall, goofed off for a couple of hours, then headed home. Halfway back through the woods, I had an almost-irresistible urge to ask him if he needed to be relieved again. I wanted to suck his cock again. My dick got raging hard just thinking about it.
I kept silent, however. He just needed to get off earlier. I was his best bud that helped him out, and it needed to stay that way. I didn't want him thinking that I was a fag.
It was almost dark by the time we made it back to our street and we split up, heading to our respective homes. Mine was empty when I arrived, with a note on the fridge that read: "Gone out for a while. Getting dinner while we're out, so there's $$$ on the counter for you to order pizza. Love, Mom and Dad."
I was about to pick up the phone and dial Super Pizza when I heard a knock at the door. Mr. Gregory, an older neighbor from a few houses down, stood at the door holding a backpack. I didn't know him very well, except that he was a widower. There had been a couple rumors that he was a pervert too, but I had always thought that it was because he lived alone and a bit creepy looking.
"Hi, Joseph," he said. "Are your folks home?"
"No, Mr. Gregory," I answered. "They went out. They should be back in a couple of hours, though, if you'd like to come back then."
"No, I actually came to talk to you," he said. "May I come in?"
I was a bit taken aback by his request, but stepped back and let him into the house. I closed the door, then showed him into the living room. He sat down on the edge of the couch and I plopped into Dad's recliner.
"Did you know I bird-watched?" he asked.
He was creeping me out a bit, but I wanted to be polite. "No, I didn't," I responded.
"It's relaxing, and it was something that the missus and I did while she was alive, you know, walking through the quiet woods and seeing all the different kinds of birds," he said. He pulled an expensive, high-end digital camera out of the backpack. "I bought this a couple of months ago and started photographing birds, thinking that maybe I could write a bird-watching book."
The conversation was starting to really creep me out, enough that alarm bells were going off in my head.
"That's cool, Mr. Gregory," I said, trying to think of a way to politely end the conversation and get him out of my house. I wasn't coming up with anything, though.
"Got quite a few good shots today," he said, turning the camera on and playing with the buttons. "Lots of a certain species that I call the 'North American Cocksucker'."
He turned the camera around, and the screen showed me on my knees in front of Chris, his hands on my head. Although I couldn't see my face, I was wearing my retro Van Halen "1984" t-shirt, making It was obvious that the kneeling person was me. And from the pose and expression on Chris's face, it was obvious what was going on in the picture.
"Wh-wh-what?" I said, my heart pounding in my chest.
He advanced the images, showing me about 8 or 10 shots of me sucking Chris's cock, ending on the one where Chris's head was thrown back when he came in my mouth.
"I love this camera," he chuckled. "It has a hell of a zoom feature. You can almost count individual feathers on a bird from a hundred feet away."
He turned the camera off and shoved it back into the backpack.
