THE STORY SO FAR:
Rich and Mark have just completed their first term at university and Rich has agreed to let Mark sleep over at his house during the Christmas break. The two have been friends for a long time and Mark thinks nothing of this, although Rich's mother appears to be overly flirtatious at times during the evening. When Rich's mum calls in on the two friends to wish them a good night, however, things take an unexpectedly intimate turn...
His mouth slipped around his friend's cock easily enough. Almost as if it was meant to.
The small quantity of pre-cum that had sat glistening on its tip was smeared on his tongue and Mark shivered at its mild, salt-laced taste. The experience - no, the
idea
- of taking his friend's cock into his mouth remained horrifyingly taboo. The sense that he was doing something wrong, was putting at risk not only his friendship with Rich but his intrinsic sense of self was powerfully, almost sickeningly, strong.
But the physical practicalities of the situation didn't allow for much introspection. Rich's cock quivered in his mouth, its texture - smooth skin rolling back as he stroked, hot glans slick and solid, its underside surprisingly tender - and sheer physical presence making demands of him that he knew he had to meet.
And Rich's hand on his head, like a priest giving some kind of weird benediction, was stroking gently. The realisation that his friend
wanted
this hit him like an almost physical blow. He sucked at him, then slid forward an inch, his lips forming a slobbery seal around this alien object inside his mouth. He pressed his tongue against the shaft, working it against the flesh that was hard but not hard, that yielded briefly then pushed back against it.
Rich groaned, his voice low. There were no words now. Something sacred was happening. Or blasphemous. He couldn't be sure which.
Even Mrs Macauley had fallen silent, although she had not stopped grasping Mark's cock since Rich's had entered his mouth. He was concentrating on sucking Rich, but was never unaware of his friend's mother's hands squeezing, stroking and rubbing. Her body was a warm, satin-shrouded presence at his side; intermittently, her mouth would brush the bare skin of his side or shoulder and strange quiet mewlings would escape her lips.
Mark kept his head bobbing up and down, up and down. The cock within his mouth was slick with his saliva now and its exposed shaft glistened in the half-light. Rich began thrusting forward, trying to get deeper and deeper into Mark's mouth, deeper than Mark was comfortable with. He had to grip his friend's member tightly in an effort to keep it from going too far.
Going too far...
That would have been funny, but the hush in the room and the sheer physical intimacy of what he was doing seemed to demand an earnest solemnity. He bobbed his head down just as Rich thrust again and he almost gagged. His friend's cock was invasive, monstrous, demanding his attention. He sucked at it clumsily, his mouth making slurping noises that were awkward and almost obscene in their banality. The taste of the cock flooded his mouth, searing itself into his memory. He would never forget this, he knew. Never in a million years.
He felt the coolness of the bedroom air on his buttocks and scrotum. At some point in the last minute or so, Mrs Macauley had pulled his boxers down. She now shifted her attention away from his cock and towards something else. Mark gasped as her fingers slipped between his buttocks and found the hole hidden between them. She pressed a fingertip against his anus slowly but forcefully. Mark shivered again and the rhythm of his sucking sped up. It could have been his imagination but there seemed to be a greater rigidity to his friend's member. Its head was swollen, the ridge that separated it from the shaft more pronounced. More pre-cum seeped into his mouth; he swallowed it, gulping it down hungrily. His right hand worked Rich's shaft, while his left cupped his friend's balls, fondling them gently; he felt the cock pulse and twitch in his grip.
Rich groaned.
And there was something in that groan. Something primal and animalistic and
true
. In that moment, overcome by a compassion that seemed to come from some deep, previously inaccessible part of him, he lost himself.
Letting Rich's cock leave his mouth to slap his abdomen wetly, he sat back and stared at his friend, taking in the dark eyes, now clouded with lust, the thin, pale body, the unkempt brown hair. Desire throbbed in Mark's gut. And cock.
Rich's mum slipped closer to him. Her arm snaked about his shoulder and she pulled him close.
"You poor boy," she whispered. "You don't know what you want, do you?" He listened numbly. "Kiss him. Let him feel what you feel..."
Yes. That sounded right somehow...
Heart pounding, he caught Rich's eye and leaned forward, clambering awkwardly over his prone body, bending his head down. Reticence flickered in Rich's gaze for an instant, but an ocean of desire had been stirred in Mark and it was simply too strong to be deflected now. Their mouths met, open. Together they shared each other's moist heat, tongues slipping and sliding against one another, lips locked.
Distantly, he heard a long feminine sigh of satisfaction, but his focus was almost entirely on Rich, on his friend, on the friend he
loved
. He lay on top of him, bringing his hand up to his cheek, luxuriating in the sensation of Rich's arm around him, his hand squeezing first one buttock then another. The feeling of being wanted, of being encircled by a warm, insistent strength, was almost overwhelming.
His cock slid against Rich's.
Rich moaned, a low vibration beginning in his throat, transmitted via flesh, bone, sinew and muscle to Mark's mouth.