I had invited Ryan for that Friday night. My girlfriend was out of town visiting her sister and my roommate was spending the weekend camping with his boyfriend. I guess you'd call him his boyfriend, though they seem to only fuck and eat breakfast. Sometimes at the same time, but that's another story. Though, I still tease him about how he squealed "B-B-B-Billy!" when I walked into the living room that time. Don't know if I'll ever look at the maple syrup the same way.
Ryan was late. I knew that he was going to be; he texted that work sucked that day and his boss asked him to stay late and do more construction things. Received a text later that he was almost done but had to run home to shower and change. I told him that he could shower here. We weren't going out so he could find clothes in my sweats and T-shirts. I don't know where he was working, but it had been an hour since then.
After what had happened last time, I hadn't had a drink yet. The last time the apartment was this clean was probably when we moved in. I admit I was nervous. Ryan hadn't been here before and I wanted this to go well, for a change.
I first met Ryan when I was out sunning on rocks in the woods. I played dumb, but I knew it was a gay place when I went there. I'd messed around with a guy before in high school. And, okay, in college I got a couple drunken blowjobs from guys. I expected to get a beejay again, but met Ryan and ended up with more. So much more.
Ryan is a few inches over six foot. He's a ginger; not the orange hair kind, but red hair, beard, chest, arms, legs, pubes. He is a red furry bear. He works construction, so is pumped; from work, not from working out. Blue eyes. And that dick; he's got to be at least 8, maybe - probably - more. He's cut and it's thick around. His balls are big and heavy; not pool balls, and not ping pong, more like a kiwi I guess.
Me? I am not as tall. 5 foot 3. Dark hair, curly. Hair down the middle of my chest, some across it, if I don't shave it. Treasure trail and I keep my pubes neat. Hairy butt and legs. My dick's average, like six. Ok, more like five and a half-ish, when I am real excited. Nobody has complained, at least to my face, and I've had some compliments. Ryan said it's a good cock. Ryan also likes my butt; high and tight, sticks out, not saggy, and working out makes sure it curves in on the sides.
Anyway, a few weeks after we met, it was a boring Sunday afternoon and I had had some drinks and I was horny. My girlfriend was doing something with her family. She also gave lousy head. I texted Ryan to see if he wanted to hang out. He invited me over. I probably shouldn't have driven, but I did. He has a small house that's all his own. Found out later it had been in bad shape and he fixed it all up and his crew helped.
When he answered the door, he had this bib apron on and was holding a wooden spoon with tomato sauce on it. The door led right into his kitchen. It wasn't until he walked past me to the stove that I realized he was ONLY wearing an apron. His pale, wide shoulders and paler ass, dusted with red hairs, were on full display. My cock had been half-hard on the way over and that view pumped it full in my jeans. He stirred a big pot and told me to grab a beer. I adjusted myself behind the fridge door.
I was very nervous and was babbling, as I do. He smiled and nodded and kept adding stuff to the pot of sauce. He offered some weed in the pipe on the counter, so I sparked it up. After I had a couple hits, he turned to me with the spoon.
"Taste this. How is it?" He slid the wooden spoon into my mouth and I slurped the sauce off.
"Tastes good. You're a good cook."
"It's missing something," he said. "Lemme taste." He leaned in and kissed me, his tongue sliding into my mouth. He kept at it, one arm around me and pressed up against me. He pulled back, licking his lips. "Needs basil. And you're wicked hard." He turned back, tossed some leaves in the pot, put the cover on, and turned the heat down low.
He walked back over, taking off the apron. Naked, he grinned at me and undid my belt and pants. "You aren't here for the sauce," he said. He went to his knees, pulled my jeans and boxers to my knees, and dove onto my hard cock. I held onto the counter and he bobbed on my cock. Had to bite my lip to keep from cumming right away. One hand went up under my shirt and the other massaged my ass. He kept at it up I was whimpering and my legs were shaking.
He stood and pushed me down by the shoulder. I realized then how drunk I was. I tripped over my pants around my ankles and grabbed him around the waist. He tried to catch me but ended up hitting the floor with me on top. With the impact, the drinks I had at home, the beer and weed at his place, I felt my stomach churn. I stared at him in a panic and slammed my hand overy mouth. He squirmed out from under me, pulled me to standing, and turned me to the sink. It all came up. He rubbed my back thru it all. When I was done, he turned on the faucet and wet a towel while I watched my self-respect go down the drain with my puke. He pressed the towel to my mouth and my forehead. He tried to turn me around but my arms were locked on the sink. I could feel my face burning with embarrassment. I bent down and pulled my pants up. I apologized and was out the door before my pants were even done up. As I backed up, Ryan was at the door looking my mom when she's concerned. But a guy. And naked. I was just humiliated and drove quickly away.
A few weeks later, my girlfriend and I were out with friends and got into an argument over my drinking. She said I was drunk and I explained I wasn't. Of course I was. She, understandably, left in a huff. I stormed out and got in my car and drove off. I shouldn't have. And, yeah, I drove over to Ryan's and was knocking at his door unannounced. Found out later he only let me in cause he caught the fumes and didn't want me driving. He sat me down in the living room and went to make me food. When he came back, I was naked and ready. He just sat me back down and gave me a thick sandwich and water.
After I ate, and pissed like a racehorse, he took me up to the bedroom and I was all excited and he tucked me in and told me to sleep. Turned out the light and left.
I woke up in the morning with him spooning me. I started grinding my butt against his morning wood, enjoying the feel of his prodding. His hand slid down to grope my cock. I turned to kiss him and he grumbled and shook his head. Untangling himself, he went into the bathroom. I heard him pissing and, while I'm not into watersport, my cock started twitching and a drop formed at the tip. He walked out brushing his teeth and tossed me one still sealed. I went in, pissed, brushed my teeth, and met him back in bed.
We kept it simple, for him anyways. Some necking and cocksucking. He flipped me over and buried his face in my ass, his tongue at my hole. He slapped my butt at one point and I moaned louder and pushed back into him. I was on my knees, face in the pillow, grinding my butt against the coarse hairs on his face, and I knew my dick was leaking threads of precum. His tongue pulled back and I felt pressure on my hole. I lifted my head up and saw him focussed on pushing a finger into me. My butthole slammed closed around him. Told him to stop, that I wasn't... and I stopped a second and instead said I wasn't ready.
I almost said I wasn't gay. I had been devouring his cock, wanting him to plunge it down my throat and still ready to say I'm not gay. I had a girlfriend and we fucked. I was maybe Bi-. Or maybe just curious. Or... something.
He patted my butt and turned me over. He went down on me, deepthroating me. I was still hard and horny but some of that passion was cooled. He tweaked my nipples and my balls pulled up. I couldn't stop thinking of how it'd feel to have him fuck me. To have that fat shaft inside me, clinging to him as his hips slapped against me, licking the sweat off his shoulder. How would it feel if he shot off inside me? When he shot off inside me. I came at the thought, long ropes into his mouth and down his throat. I came again. My balls up tight against me and pumping out every drop. Ryan pulled off me and spit a mouthful of my cum into his hand and stroked his cock. He shuddered and emptied out on me, from my neck to my balls. He scooped it up on his fingers and held it out to show me. I sat up and took his fingers into my mouth, sucking the mix of our cum off of his thick, calloused fingers.
We kissed awhile. Then he started to talk and it sounded serious so I rolled off the bed and hopped in the shower. I dressed while he showered and met him down in the kitchen for coffee. He started again and I didn't want to have serious talk and besides I had to go and bye, I was out the door.
And now he was coming over to my place. The buzzer went off and I checked the intercom. It was him. I buzzed him in and waited for him to travel up. I was sober and the place, and I, were clean. So why did I feel like a panic attack was coming on? I was dressed in a white T that I knew hung off my pecs really well, white jockeys that were new and purposely a little small for me, white socks, and a blue denims that fit me snug all over especially at my butt.
There was a rap at the door. I took a breath. Opened the door. Ryan stood there, right arm up on the frame, the other hooked by his thumb in the tool belt; both hands in cotton and leather work gloves. He wore a T-shirt that had been white but was now colored with sweat, sawdust, plaster dust, and oil stuck to his chest in places. The fully loaded tool belt was slung around his trim waist and hung down over his jeans. Jeans that looked permanently dirty with smudges and streaks of God knew what. The right knee was torn across and the cuffs were frayed. The jeans themselves fit him well, embracing his muscled thighs, and tapering over his thick calves. The crotch had paled with wear and cupped his package behind a button fly. On his feet were workboots, beat up and stained.
"You said to come right from work, Billy. This drag ain't pretty."
"No," I responded. "It's not pretty but it's...well...it's like you stepped out of a Joe Gage porno." I grabbed his waistband and pulled him into the apartment before he could ask how I knew Joe Gage pornos. As he passed me, I checked out his ass, the cotton shaped and worn by time. A tear below his right cheek showed a glimpse of skin and the edge of white cotton briefs. I shut the door behind him and took in the view. He turned.
"I really didn't need to wear the belt, but I wanted you to get the whole picture." He grinned and I stepped in and wrapped my arms around his chest, buried my face in his T. "No, Billy, don't. I fucking stink. Let me shower off this day."
"You don't stink, Ryan," I said into his chest. I inhaled deeply catching the smells of wood, plaster, oil, sweat, and something burnt. "Okay, there's a definite smell to you, but I think I like it." I grinned up at him and pressed my lips to his. He grunted and kissed back, holding me to him.
"Well, glad you like it but I feel gross. Shower, please."