Author's Note: Avoid this story if references to smoking cigarettes and doing drugs will offend you. I wasn't originally planning to write a second chapter, but I decided to let my imagination run wild after reading all your comments. I'll likely end this story here, but expect some similar themes from me in future works.
God damn it, Mike. I can't believe I fucking said any of that shit. After ten minutes of lying there with him like a satisfied whore, I abruptly bolt up from his bed. "Fuck, bro!" I mumble, trying to formulate an excuse. "How long have we been here? They're expecting me back at that party!"
He eyes me suspiciously like he understands exactly what's happening in my brain. Whatever. My naked ass flees to the living room where I'd stripped off all my clothes, urgently pulling everything back on in the entryway.
Mike appears in the hallway, still nude himself, glancing at me uncertainly. Our eyes meet for a fleeting second as I press my feet into my shoes. "You don't want to shower or clean up at all before you go?" he asks.
"Later, dude!" I call back without answering his question or looking at his face. I close the door so hard it slams shut, sprinting down the two flights of stairs to the ground. As soon as I hit the sidewalk, I'm desperately reaching for my smokes, firing one up and greedily dragging on it.
Fuck! God damn it, Mike! What the fuck did you do to me! I'm not gay! I feel like I'm arguing with him in my mind as I start walking back toward the house. You know how many chicks I've banged, man? I was high and coked up! And drunk! You took advantage of me! I was too fucked up to stop you! I bite my lip imagining the things he might say back. I can't deal with that right now. Shut up, Mike! Fucking faggot! You're lucky I didn't beat your ass after what you did to me!
I'm hitting the cigarette so intensely I finish it within two minutes, throwing the smoldering butt down and stubbing it out with the sole of my shoe.
"There's a trash can right there!" some eco freak woman yells at me.
"Fuck off!" I howl, twisting my head over without bothering to look at her face. I throw my middle finger up as I grab another cylinder from the pack, pressing it between my lips and igniting it with my lighter. "Plenty more where that came from too, bitch!"
"Asshole!" she screams back.
I grin, blowing out a cloud of smoke triumphantly like I'd won some huge victory. I wanted a hundred petty confrontations like that right now, anything that could distract me from the horrible thoughts about Mike. Fucking Madison. This is her fault too. She knew our house dealer had been out of coke for weeks, that I'd leap and drop everything I was doing if she dangled a few bumps worth in my face. No more of that shit. Doing lines is what made me fuck up the first time.
Fucking Kyle. Fuck you too, dude! I made it sound like the blowjob had happened ages ago when I mentioned it to Mike, but it had been way more recent than I implied. Maybe a month ago? We were both wasted at the house, too drunk to have any luck with the chicks after they'd started to depart, when Kyle asked if I wanted to do a little blow. I'm not the kind of guy who can turn down an offer to get fucked up. He was being protective of his stash, not wanting to share with anyone else, so we sloppily stumbled up the stairs to the second floor. Kyle lives in one of the few single rooms in the house because he's technically an officer, holding one of the bullshit jobs like historian, but it still came with some privileges.
We sat down on the loveseat in his cramped room, taking turns snorting off a picture frame. I felt euphoric after we each did a couple lines, and then the grandiosity kicked in. I was the greatest and most powerful person in the world, capable of absolutely anything, a fucking god. I deserved to be worshiped. Why weren't there people worshiping me right fucking now?
"Really makes up for not getting laid tonight, right?" Kyle posed with a satisfied smirk.
Oh shit, I'd barely remembered he was there. I realized I was insanely horny, like I wanted to bust five times a row. "Dude, I seriously might need to go beat off," I said without thinking anything of it, expecting I'd quickly slip out of his room now that I got what I wanted.
There was a glint in Kyle's eye as he gazed at me. "I was just thinking the same thing, man. You want to get it over with? Maybe do a couple more lines after we finish?"
I hadn't envisioned him in my plans, but the promise of a few more lines of coke was enticing as fuck. Why make a big deal about it? We were bros. We saw each other naked all the time anyway. Drunk and high in that moment, I felt completely comfortable jerking off in front of another guy. I slipped my shorts down to my ankles without saying anything, not wearing underwear beneath them, my hard dick sticking up demandingly.
Kyle looked over intently and followed my lead, pulling his khaki shorts and boxers off. We both gripped our shafts and started stroking right in front of each other. I tried not to look over at first, until I realized he was unashamedly watching me jerk. I figured it must be cool. Seeing Kyle touch his cock, slightly longer and thicker than mine, was definitely turning me on.
"This would be even better with some porn," he muttered, releasing his length as he stood up. He grabbed his laptop from his desk and climbed into the bed, setting the computer down between his legs and patting the space beside him. "Come on over, bro."
Being fucked up, it didn't seem weird at all when I settled next to him, our bare thighs touching together on the cramped bed as he loaded up some video of a hot college chick getting fucked in the ass. It felt oddly natural jerking off with him as we watched the video, the random slut screaming as a huge dick dove deeply into her gaping hole.
When I pulled my hand away to spit into it, Kyle grabbed my dick without any warning. I instantly wanted to yell out "What the fuck are you doing?" but his warm hand actually felt incredible. I let him rest it there for a few moments, shocked that I was enjoying his touch. "Dude?" I muttered softly, glancing over at his face like I didn't understand.
