AUTHOR'S NOTE: All characters in sexual situations are 18 years of age or older.
Thanks to all of the readers who have sent me feedback and left comments, it's all been great. I really appreciate it, and it helps motivate me to write and post more. So thanks, and keep them coming--just a few words is good, but more is always appreciated :)
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I took a last look around the house. It looked okay; neat but lived-in. I glanced at the clock and thought that Andy should be here soon. I was surprised how nervous I felt.
My mom and sister had gone away for the weekend, leaving me alone to mind the house. I was going to have a small get-together with some friends--order some pizza and watch a few movies and listen to some music; drink some beer and smoke some weed--but then in the last few days one after another other things came up and they had to pull out. All except Andy.
"We're still going to get together, right Chris?" he asked me. "I mean, unless you got something else to do? But if you're going to sit at home alone, we might as well hang out, right?" I agreed.
But I was a little nervous, mostly because I didn't know Andy that well. One of my closer friends had brought him along a few weeks ago, and he'd started hanging out with us now and again. I think he was new to the city, having just transferred universities. He seemed a bit different and more adventurous than my regular friends, which both interested and unsettled me. One time we were at Mike's house, in the basement with his parents upstairs, and Andy had pulled out a porn tape from somewhere and popped it in the VCR. It only played for a minute or two before Mike noticed, freaked out, and almost kicked Andy out of the house. I hoped Andy wouldn't rope me into anything too wild on this night.
To tell you a little bit about myself, name of Chris, I am in my early twenties, about six feet tall with a broad-shouldered body that is fit if not muscled. I have brown hair that's a little shaggy and always looks in need of a haircut. On that evening I was wearing black jeans and a t-shirt with the logo of a rock'n'roll radio station. There's a lot of other details to my biography, but I don't think they're relevant to this story, on this particular evening.
And just like I expected, the doorbell did soon ring. The setting sun beamed in through the windows, and soon I'd need to turn on some lights. I opened the door to find Andy waiting, surprisingly burdened-down with a knapsack on his back, and a big box of pizza in his hands.
"Hey dude! What's up?" He said with a smile. "I was thinking, why wait to phone in the order and wait for the delivery guy, and blah-blah-blah? So, I just set up a pick-up from the place around the corner at the right time, and just dropped by there on my way here. I hope it's cool?"
"Oh yeah, yeah!" I said. "C'mon in. Yeah, that's cool, we can eat right away then, good thinking." That really was a lot like Andy, from what I'd gotten to know of him. Always planning one step ahead, always looking for something a little less mundane. In the short time I'd known him his ideas had made for some evenings that otherwise wouldn't have been nearly as fun. It was one of the reasons I thought it would be alright to spend an evening hanging out with him, even when, after the party was cancelled, I really just wanted to spend a quiet evening alone.
A bit about Andy: He was around my age, a little shorter and with a much more slim and lithe body type. He had straight blonde hair that fell down to his shoulders, and wide excitable eyes. I think it's fair to say he was the adventurous ball of energy to my more reserved, thoughtful character. He wore slacks and a multi-coloured short-sleeve shirt that looked like it was from a thrift store.
I grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge, some plates and napkins, and we made our way down to the basement rec room. We both sat down on the big couch that was opposite the TV, put all our things on the coffee table in front of us, and chowed down on pizza. The first thing we had planned was catching a movie on TV, and by the time our feeding frenzy died down the movie was about to start.
It turned out to be a pretty good movie, a mostly forgotten sci-fi flick from the seventies on one of the cable channels. We mostly stayed quiet and watched, except for commercial breaks when we'd pass a stray comment to each other, or take a bathroom break, or go grab another couple of beers.
Feeling a little light-headed from the beer, I had to admit that my mind kept going back to the way Sigourney Weaver looked, especially in one scene where she strutted around in clothes that hugged and highlighted all her major-league curves. It's the image that was in my mind as the credits rolled.
"Pretty good movie, huh?" Andy asked, getting out of his slouching position and stretching.
"Uh, oh yeah," I said "That zero-gravity scene? That looked so cool."
"What about her eyes, man? Especially when she's shouting at those other officers? Fuck, if she didn't want to eat 'em up instead of yell at them. Fuck if she didn't give me a major chubby with those eyes."
I laughed out loud, because he didn't even have to say what part he was talking about, because my thoughts were exactly the same. I laughed a little too loud, felt self-conscious and covered up my mouth and looked away. "Um, yeah," I said. "Definitely."
I guess Andy saw I was feeling a little weird talking about this, because he changed the subject right away. I'm really not so sure why I get so shy and quiet and nervous when the conversation turns to sex--I certainly think about it a ton--but it was nice of Andy not to tease, as sometimes happens.
"Since you've been so nice as to share your beers," he said, "this seems for a good time to smoke a joint. That cool?" he asked, and reached into his knapsack.
"Cool," I said, and grabbed one of the left-over slices of pizza to munch on while he rolled up a joint.
He pulled out a pretty big bag of weed, and I didn't say anything until he poured it all out onto a part of the coffee table he'd cleared. "Geez, we're not going to smoke all that, are we?"
He looked at me and grinned, "Why not? Don't worry, it's my treat."
"Well..." I hesitated, and thought it over while taking another bite of pizza, "let's split it up then, some now, some later?"
"Pace yourself!" Andy called out, jokingly. "That's what I call a plan! That's why I like you, man, you're not afraid to have a good time."
"Me?" I asked, with a tone of doubt. "I'm not exactly Mr. Excitement. I mean, we haven't known each other that long, but you must have figured that out, at least."
"Naw, naw, naw," he protested. "You like to have fun on your own terms. You know what you like and what you don't like, and you're not afraid to go your own way to satisfy yourself. Like, I know you could sometimes go to a club, or a bar, but instead you stay home and read, or make time to take a walk in the woods, right?"
"Uh, yeah..."
"Well, you might think that's un-cool, I would even guess that sometimes it's what you tell yourself, but it's actually very cool. You know what makes you happy and what doesn't make you happy, and you follow it. Most of those people doing the 'cool' thing, so it'll look good to others? They're totally miserable fucks. Totally miserable inside."
"Hmmm..."
"I'm telling you, man," Andy said, "It's something that's really...attractive."
He occupied himself with rolling the joint, and let the word hang out there. For a few minutes I thought he was going to correct himself, somehow amend the statement, say he used the wrong word. But he was entirely content to be quiet. I wondered if he even said what I heard him say.
The house was dark now, as we moved up the stairs and through the rooms, stepping through the sliding door to the backyard porch. A few stars sparkled in the evening sky, and the moon hung nearly full, beautifully bone-white. We didn't share many words, just passed the skunky-smelling joint back-and-forth, watching the cherry-red tip burn in the darkness. The backyard was screened well from the neighbours, and nobody else seemed to be out, so it was a very low-stress environment. Just chilling out surrounded by the warmth of the night, the crickets singing somewhere off in the distance, the stars high above. And my new friend Andy beside me, who I was feeling closer to every moment.
The buzz really hit me as soon as we stepped inside the house. It was all I could do to keep my balance while grabbing another beer and a big plastic cup of water. Hands full, it took me forever to negotiate my way down the basement stairs without falling, and I know if anyone had videotaped me cautiously taking each step while stoned out of my gourd, it would have been a laugh riot.
When I finally dropped back into the sofa, it was like sitting in the throne of the king of the universe. The pleasant buzz coursed through my bones and along the surface of my skin, the soft couch cushioned my body, and liquids and munchies were within reach, while the large TV-screen provided all the entertainment I needed. Until he spoke, I'd forgotten Andy was in my home.
"Hey man," he said, reaching into his bag again. "I got a special surprise for you, that's fucking scorching hot. I hope it's cool with you." He leaned down in front of the VCR & DVD players, and pressed some buttons.
Up until that time, I have to admit that my pornography consumption was pretty pathetic. Of course I was eager, but the most I saw were late-night cable movies where topless couples did a grind to a cheesy saxophone soundtrack, or poor-definition pictures on the computer that were just teases for paysites I couldn't get into. None of it really prepared me for the porn that Andy showed me.
I think there's milestones in everyone's erotic life. We might not think about them a lot, we might not even recognize them, but they must be the moments that imprint and deepen what is the primary obsession of humanity. The first ones may be an odd stirring inside when you're just hitting that threshold, and you see a picture of a voluptuous female. Another time, when people are removing clothes or changing, instead of not minding or turning away, you feel a keen curiosity to look closer. The first time you masturbate, when you're not even sure why, and you're not sure you'll ever do it again, but you do. Again and again and again.
Then waking up on a spring morning and seeing everyone displaying more flesh and more life and just thinking about fucking and fucking and fucking all day. As a guy, I know that at some point seeing a woman's big round ass sparked something primal in me that has never died, that has since always been lurking near the surface, ready to take control. And when I see high school students in uniforms, all I can think back to is my days wearing a uniform, my cock getting hard all through the day, needing to push it down just to be able to walk, hopefully nobody noticing. I'm sure some did. Probably a lot did. Sometimes I'd stroke it in the washroom. And I'd just be dying until I could get home and lock myself in the washroom and take my cock out and jack off, sweating while revelling in every sexual thought I could generate.
Something like that, another level of sexual obsession, came to life in me when Andy's porn movie started. He'd done his research, this was super-quality hardcore. The women looked more beautiful than I could have hoped for, and acted like they lived to fuck. The guys looked like models themselves, and were without exception well-hung with thick cocks that were hard from the start. Sexuality burned off the screen before they even did anything. And oh, the things they did. Multiple hard cocks came at every woman, the guys mad to get off as nastily as they could. Oral, vaginal, anal...lots and lots of anal. Girls touched each other and swapped cum, and violated each other with big neon-coloured toys. And the guys were mostly concerned with fucking the girls but they certainly didn't mind putting an arm around each other, or rubbing their hard cocks together, or even in one scene jacking each other off a bit. And it was all in crystal-clear video, with a pumping techno soundtrack, and camerawork and edits that were a pervert's dream. I was hooked, trapped, captivated.
"Uh," Andy started, "My pants are...getting a little tight and uncomfortable, if you know what I mean. Do you mind if I loosen them a bit?"
"No," I replied. "Go ahead." I heard some unbuckling and the zip of a zipper, but didn't look over.
"Aren't your pants getting uncomfortable?" Andy asked "Fuck, you've got those tight jeans, I bet your cock's bursting to get out. Isn't it?"
