Rebound

Just as I had finished downloading a good stash of new porn, and was ready to begin tonight's festivities in earnest—my erection had already begun without me—I was interrupted by a knock on the door. (Is it coitus interruptus if you're going solo?) I ignored it at first, hoping that whoever it was might think I was gone, or asleep; but whoever it was was persistent. Even living in a single room it's hard to stay alone in college.

Finally I gave in; I closed down my browser window, put my computer to sleep, got up from my chair, readjusted my pants, and walked over to open the door a crack. Standing there was my old friend Dirk, whom I had met in high school and with whom I now shared a residence hall. "Hey, what's up?" (I tried to sound nonchalant.)

"Can I... come in?"

I couldn't think of any reason why not. "Sure."

I noticed that he closed the door behind him; whatever he was here for, he didn't want other people to hear about it. "So, uh, what's up?"

He sat down on the bed; I pictured in my mind all the little spots of dried semen—nearly all, I must admit, from masturbation—that he was now more or less in contact with. "Carrie... left me."

I sat down beside him, wrapping my arm around his shoulder. They say guys aren't supposed to show affection, but we do; some of us more than others I guess. "I'm sorry, man. I wish there was something I could do for you."

He stared into the wall, and we both went silent for awhile—it felt like hours, though I guess it was probably about a minute and a half—before he finally said, "I'm here because... I think there is."

"What can I do? It's not like I can bring your girlfriend back to you."

"I knew this was going to happen. I didn't want to believe it. But we were drifting apart for awhile now. And I got to thinking...." He seemed distant, as if living in some kind of daydream, and only intermittently communicating to the real world.

"Thinking what, Dirk?"

Suddenly he turned to face me, his sharp blue eyes gazing directly into my dull hazels. There was something in them I'd never seen in him before; terror? Desperation? Maybe even... lust? "Would you have sex with me?"

I stumbled backward, falling off the bed. "Dirk, I... I don't know..."

"Well, you're bi, and we're really good friends... and I don't know, I guess I always thought I was straight, but...."

I picked myself up, sitting down at the computer, preferring to look at the blank screen rather than face him. It wasn't that I didn't want to—no, if anything, I wanted to way too much. I'd wanted to be with him for years, and I had finally managed to sweep those feelings aside, accept the impossibility of their fulfillment. "But now you're not so sure."

"Pretty sure, not, actually; what with the dreams I've been having, the way I've been fantasizing...."

"I'm flattered, of course," A lot more than flattered! More like aching for it. Did he have any idea how many of those semen spots were because of him? "But don't you think this is a bad idea? I mean, what am I? Some kind of stopgap until you can find another girlfriend? I'm queer, so I must automatically be available for your every desire?"

"Kent, I... don't mean it like that."

"Then what do you mean?" I turned and growled at him; I think it was easier to hide my feelings if I masked them with anger. "You want rebound sex so you don't have to feel sorry for yourself? Then what? You throw me away like a kleenex full of semen?"

He lowered his head and covered his face with his hands; he looked like he was about to cry. It wasn't completely untrue—part of why it hurt—but it also wasn't fair, and I knew that. Why are we so good at hurting those we love? "I didn't mean it like that. At least, I don't think I did."

But then I realized what I was doing to him; I couldn't hurt him anymore. I ran over to hug him, wrapped my arms around him; he held on tight as if there was a chance I'd float away if he let go. "I'm sorry. I... It's just a little sudden, is all."

"I know," he whispered; I could feel him trying to hold back tears. "You don't have to. I shouldn't have assumed like that."

I softened my hold; he didn't. "You were right, though. I want to. I've wanted to... probably since about a week after I met you. Do you have any idea what I went through seeing you come out of the shower in the locker room? How many times I tried to bump into you 'accidentally,' cop a feel ever for a few brief moments? When all those years went by, when you ended up with Carrie; I finally gave up, figured I'd never get the chance."

Now he released, holding me at arm's length. "Why didn't you say so?"

"Years ago?"

His expression changed; he was no longer at the verge of tears, but he wasn't quite smiling either. I guess he looked more confused than anything. "Or at least ten minutes ago!"

"I don't know." Honestly I didn't. It would have been a hell of a lot easier, wouldn't it? "I guess I was afraid."

"Afraid of what?"

"Afraid I'd finally get what I wanted, and it wouldn't be anything like what I thought."

"Afraid I'd disappoint you?"

"Afraid I'd disappoint you, and you'd never want to come near me again. Maybe even a little afraid that things would work out... I don't know; can I be afraid to be happy?"

He moved his hand upward, to gently stroke my shoulder. It was just a little more than we would ordinarily have done, just enough to say that things were different now than they had been an hour ago. "Feelings don't always make sense."

It did feel better, to let it all go. Maybe it wasn't how I had hoped it would be; but what is, really? I moved my hand up to touch his neck, play with his hair in my fingers. "So what is it you want, exactly? I hear straight guys always want to top."

He laughed. "Actually I don't. I guess... if I'm gonna do it with a guy, I should at least do something I couldn't already do with a girl."

"Well, I'm sucking your cock no matter what; that is non-negotiable." If you'd told me I was going to say that to him a year, a day, an hour, even a few minutes before that, I would have said you were crazy.

"Well, if that's how it's gotta be...."

And I leaned in to do something I had wanted to do since the moment I met him: I kissed those soft, sweet lips, let the sensation sweep over me. It seems like such a simple action; in some cultures even friends kiss on the lips. There's not even really anything inherently sexual about it. But none of that changes the way it feels when it happens, the intensity of the connection it gives you. It's almost like, for that brief moment, you plugged a cable between your souls.

He pulled away, a wide grin on his face. "So, are you going to do this or not?" His hands were pointing down to his crotch, where a bulge was quickly growing in his pants.

I returned the grin, and knelt down in front of the bed. "If I have to...."

He relaxed, closing his eyes, folding his arms behind his head, letting me do all the work; I slowly worked open the button on his fly, then slid down the zipper. His adorable white briefs—I had always imagined him in something like that—still concealed his penis proper, but the bulge within them was fast taking on the shape of a firm erection. I slid his pants down off his hips to his ankles; he moved his body just enough to make things easier for me. All the while he kept his eyes closed and his arms behind his head. Eagerly I slid the briefs down in the same way, slowly revealing his tip, then his shaft, then his balls, until the whole of his manhood was displayed before me, quickly tumescing to its full glory. My own was eager to follow suit, but still restrained by the tyranny of clothing.

I wrapped my hands around his balls, cradling them, then slid up to the base of his shaft. His tip was already wet with precum; I kissed it gently, then slowly licked around his glans. He breathed a little harder, but I looked up to see that his eyes were still closed. Finally, I could take the anticipation no longer; I had to have him. I shoved his cock deep into my mouth, taking it as far in one stroke as I could, clamping my lips down upon it lest it ever consider escaping. Dirk let out a gasp, then moved his hands to the back of my head, holding me in, begging me to take him deeper—I of course was happy to oblige.

It didn't take long for him to come, but I didn't mind; he'd never felt such an expert mouth, and I was more than ready to suck the last bits of sweet and salty cum from his tip and swallow every drop. Honestly I think prolonging sex is much overrated; it's more fun not to fight your body every step of the way.

He laid back on the bed, sweaty and exhausted; but I stood up and shoved my crotch in his face, making it clear that we were most certainly not done yet. He nodded, and rolled over, the same cute little ass I'd caught glimpses of in the locker room now presented before me for my consumption.

I thanked my lucky stars that I had kept a bottle of lube under my bed; normally it was just a redundancy in masturbation, but today it would mark the difference between victory and defeat. Dirk seemed to enjoy tremendously my fumbled attempts to apply the lube to his tight little hole; for me it was more the anticipation of what was about to come.

I tore off my jeans and boxers as if they were parasites upon my skin; by now I was sporting a pulsating erection that knew exactly what it wanted, and that it most certainly wanted it now. I slapped on another coat of lube, then climbed on top of my high school buddy, who by now was holding tightly onto the bedposts and mewling with delight.

I have to admit it was actually a bit of a struggle penetrating him; either I was a little too wide or he was a little too tight. I had to shove in bursts, with every half-inch gained just making me that more frustrated and horny. I'm fucking him, and I can't actually fuck him? This was not how it was going to happen!

But finally, finally, I managed to shove my cock all the way inside him; he let out a yelp, then moaned softly as I slowly pulled back. We alternated this same motion for awhile, pushing quickly, pulling slowly, until finally I couldn't take it anymore. I exploded into a rush of rapid thrusts; Dirk cried out loud in a sharp falsetto. I was a piston, pumping in an engine, throttling up to maximum horsepower.

And then, with a loud moan from me and a soft one from him, it was done; I felt my cum spurting out of me like water from a hose, and then my body gave out under me. I collapsed on top of him, panting and sweating.

After a long silence, Dirk finally rolled me over, then stood up, tore off the rest of his clothes, and reached for the light switch. I was too exhausted to do anything but lay there and moan. "Kent..." he whispered as he climbed back into bed, "thanks. We should do this again sometime."