Anal Between Friends Doesn't Count As Sex 04

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Chapter 4: Pushing Limits

Michael and I had fallen into another rhythm after Emma's surprising approval. Within a couple days, he had become sort of dominant over me. We were always just normal friends, but he started using me, even at school. 

The first day something happened outside one of our bedrooms, we were walking to school one morning. We were in a section of street surrounded by trees, and while I was playing on my phone he suddenly tapped my shoulder. I looked at him and he was smiling. I looked down and saw his big dick hanging out.

"What the fuck," I said, my eyes wide and looking around. 

"It needs to breathe," he said, and I saw the blood start to flow into it while I stared. 

"No, dude, this is fucking crazy," I said, my heart racing. 

He rolled his eyes at me. "Pussy," he said as he stuffed it back into his pants and kept walking to school. It was on my mind all through morning classes, and in an afternoon passing period, he grabbed me in the middle of the hall, surrounded by other students. 

He looked me in the eyes, and after his antics that morning, I knew what it meant. I just hoped he wasn't going to whip it out right there in the hall. He dragged me up to the third floor, to an empty classroom. I had never been in there before, and I don't believe it was ever used very much. 

He didn’t say anything at first. He just gave me a look, like a commanding dare. He leaned back against the wall and tugged my wrist until my hand was on his crotch. The hallway lights flickered through the cracked door, making it feel even more like we were about to get caught. He didn’t even close it, and he was holding me against him, so I felt like I was stuck there. His jeans were already pushed low on his hips, his V-line guiding my eyes down to the heavy and obvious bulge. I gave him a raised eyebrow, but didn’t argue about the public nature of this. He knew it would make me nervous. I think that was half the fun for him, seeing what I would do. I pushed back this morning, but now I my hormones were leading me to obey. My pulse was pounding. I crouched down, hooked my fingers on his waistband, and tugged it just low enough to reveal his hefty package. In the light of day, I could see the pattern of his pubes, and all the veins on his meat hog. I could see the clear delineation of his circumcision scar. I felt like the giant dick in front of my face had become my new best friend, replacing Michael himself. 

The moment felt wild, but also familiar. I could hear the sound of my own heartbeat in my ears. He braced one hand flat against the wall and the other behind my head, guiding me onto him as I swallowed it down, getting it wet and ready for pleasure. He used small, impatient movements to get himself steel hard in my mouth. Every time I looked up, he was biting his lip, watching me like I was porn. My knees started to ache from the tile floor, but the adrenaline drowned it out. I knew I was going to be sore later, but I weighed it against the fun I was having, and opted to accept it.

After pushing him into my throat, I pulled back for a breath, wiping my mouth, and he grabbed my hair with a quiet, frustrated grunt. I gave him a short laugh through my breath and went back at it. He didn’t talk, just made these short, sharp sounds, breathing hard through his nose. His body tensed every few seconds, his chest rising and falling fast. When I wrapped my hand around the base to steady it, his hips twitched forward, almost making me lose balance. He kept his dick in my mouth as he flipped me around so my head was against the wall, and now he was in full control.

I felt the back of my neck hit the base of the whiteboard behind me, and his fingers tightened in my hair. My brain flickered between panic and thrill as he started stuffing himself deeper into my throat.

He was rougher than usual, but there was control in it. He wasn’t out of it like a gooner zombie using a toy. Today he was focused, monitoring my gags, like he was careful not to damage his property. I felt it in the way he moved, like he knew exactly what rhythm he wanted. The sound of shoes squeaking on the tile outside the room, his breath changing sporadically, it all blurred together. My jaw started to burn, and I gave a few shallow pulls to ease up. He finally loosened his grip, letting me catch a breath. I coughed quietly, and he just smirked, waiting for me to open up again so he could stuff it back down. The maniac was getting almost mechanical as he controlled my body’s responses.

When I did, I reached up and grabbed at his side, steadying myself and bracing for further onslaught of male meat in my mouth. His skin was warm through the fabric, and I felt his abs tighten every time he pushed forward. I could tell he was close from the way his legs locked. Then he just froze, every muscle tense, breathing through his teeth as he pulsed down my throat. His balls were pressed against my chin, and he was deeper inside me than I even realized was possible. I waited for that familiar taste in my mouth, but nothing came. When he finally pulled back, I looked up at him, confused and out of breath, my hair a mess.

“I didn’t taste anything,” I said, wiping spit and tears from my face with the back of my hand.

He shrugged and gave a short laugh, his voice low. “Guess it went straight to your stomach.”

I stood, shaking out my hands, my throat still sore, and leaned against the desk behind me. He was already tucking himself back in, casual like it was nothing. The whole thing had been quick but surreal, leaving a rush in my body as I tucked my boner between my legs and headed off to class. 

—[]—

That Friday night his parents were gone again, so I crashed at his place. We fired up the console and played for a while, tossing insults back and forth. He kept beating me, of course. He always did, especially lately. The sound of the controller clicking was constant. Between matches he’d lean back and stretch, shirt riding up just enough to distract me with his bulge. The air was a mix of junk food and sweat that came with hours of hormonal males gaming.

It started off harmless, as usual. He caught me staring, gave me that cocky grin, and said, “You’re not even trying to win, are you?” I smirked, trying to play it cool, but we both knew what was coming next. 

The controller dropped from his hands, landing on the carpet with a dull thud. He leaned closer, eyes locked on me. There was this unspoken thing between us now, he would force an automatic shift in me from friend to cock pleasuring submissive boy.

He didn’t bother turning off the screen; the menu music looped in the background. I slid closer, felt his hand on the back of my neck, guiding me down. Everything about him was calm and confident, like he’d been waiting for the moment all day. My hands gripped his thighs, and his breath slowed a little, his eyes still half on the flashing screen. It was weirdly casual and intense at the same time.

Time blurred as I nursed him slowly, edging him whenever he got close, and he started playing video games again. He’d play another round, curse at the screen, then glance down at me with his lazy smirk that encouraged me to go harder. When he wanted to cum, he’d shift, pull me closer, and flip me over to use my ass. I’d chill for a few minutes before his dick was in my mouth again. 

The whole day, I followed his lead without either of us saying much. It was this strange mix of routine and chaotic pleasure, him focused on the game one second and completely on me the next. By the end of the night, both of us were exhausted, sweaty, and starving. My ass was sore and I had wiped several loads out of it. We sat in our underwear on his bed and chatted for a few minutes once it was late.

He passed out first, the TV still glowing against his skin. His face looked soft. Calm. For some reason, seeing him like that made me feel proud, like I’d done something right for him. Not because of what we’d done, but because he looked genuinely happy. I don’t know what Emma was doing for him, but I knew that I was filling a void that was more important than her. I grabbed a blanket off the floor, threw it over him, and sank back into the couch, still full of energy and caffeine.

I lay awake, scrolling on my phone, when the little banner notification dropped with a text.

Rhys: You done blowing my brother?

I narrowed my eyes at my phone, half laughing to myself.

Me: Did more than that.

A pause, then another buzz.

Rhys: Come gimme a bj.

I stared at the screen. Was he serious? I reacted with a question mark.

Rhys: Just a quickie beej. I know you like it.

I hesitated, thinking about Rhys. My mind was spinning. He was just the annoying brother of my friend. I didn’t think he’d even want any of that from me. I tried to picture the times I’d seen his bulge in underwear, and it felt wrong to even think about. He definitely had a cute face, but I had known him so long that it seemed… weird. But, I was in an exploratory phase, finding out new things about myself. I hadn’t gotten anywhere interesting by saying no to the universe. But still, it was Rhys.

After a couple minutes of contemplation and an aching boner in my shorts, I texted back:

Me: You’re actually serious?

Rhys: Yeah.

I sat there for a long minute, the glow from my phone lighting Michael’s sleeping face. Part of me wanted to laugh it off. Part of me wanted to see if he would actually go through with it if I went over there. Even though I felt like I had done nothing but sex for weeks now, curiosity won.

I pulled on my hoodie and slipped out of Michael’s room quietly. The house was dark except for a dim light spilling from under Rhys’s door. When I tapped, he didn’t answer, but the door cracked open.

He was sitting on his bed in a t‑shirt and boxers, grinning like he’d been waiting for me. “Didn’t think you’d actually come,” he whispered.

“Didn’t think you were actually serious,” I said back, scanning his face for clues about what was happening with him.

He just shrugged, laying back casually, putting his growing bulge on display.

I stood there for a second, still oddly unsure if he was going to laugh me out of the room or not. But he just looked at me steadily, a teasing smirk on his face, but calm. I stepped closer, still not totally sure what was happening, until he reached out and tugged the edge of my hoodie.

The moment felt weirdly familiar. Same house, same kind of tension, just a different brother. My brain screamed don’t, but my body didn’t move away. I reached out, lightly escalating the physical contact, waiting for him to flinch. But he didn’t. Instead, he tilted his head and looked at me like he was suddenly impatient. The horny hormonal dude in front of me was desperate. He didn’t want to take it slowly. I swallowed hard. It was real.

I sat down beside him, still unsure where exactly this was heading. He leaned back on his hands, watching me. “It’s not a big deal.”

Sure feels like one, I thought to myself.

He grinned like he was reading my mind.

He shifted his hips a little closer to me, his body language suddenly less playful. I could feel the warmth of him even though we weren’t touching. 

He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, whispering into the air. “Just blow me.”

“Is it your first bj?” I asked.

“No,” he said, almost to himself, keeping his eyes closed. “I just need it. You must be decent at it if Michael has been spending this much time with you.”

I didn’t ask if it was a girl or one of his friends that had blown him, but I had a sense.

I pulled his dick out of his shorts. It was shaped the same as Michael’s, and nearly as big, which didn’t even make sense given the age difference. 

“I didn’t know you were big, too,” I said as I started to rub it, “Guess it runs in the family.”

I milked out little drops of pre-cum from the large head of it, creating a small pool on the end.

“Who’s bigger?” he asked, still not looking at me. 

“Your brother, obviously” I said quickly, then dropped my head and started bobbing on it. He sighed like he was both disappointed in my answer and relaxing into the sensation of the warm velvet of my tongue on him. My jaw had gotten used to being sore most of the time, but this was the first time I had tried a “new dick” since I started servicing Michael, and I immediately felt a surge of tension run from my brain to my ass. I bobbed my head quickly and felt his dick pulse against my tongue. He was quiet, just like the first time with Michael. I think they learned to be quiet since they had always jerked off at night with rooms close to each other.

He took to it quickly and grabbed both sides of my head, holding my hair as he stuffed into me. He wasn’t as rough as Michael had been, but I wasn’t sure if he was just being gentle with me. But once he got closer to cumming, he pressed me down hard and finished at the back of my throat. I let it fill my mouth, having the urge to taste it after not getting Michael’s in a while (he had been stuffing my ass or nutting deep in my throat). When I pulled off and looked at him, he had the most satisfied look on his face. His eyes were open and looking at me. I felt the redness on my wet face. It was strange having done that, even weirder than with Michael, but it still felt good. I hadn’t cum, so I was still in horny mode. My brain didn’t have the capacity for any regret yet.

“So,” I said, “who else has blown you?”

“A friend of mine who gets cooked constantly in Fortnight.”

“How is that related?”

“We make BJ bets to humiliate each other.”

“Ah. Have you ever lost?”

“Yeah.”

“Noted.”

I stood, my heart starting to relax after pounding so hard, but not really sure what to say. “I’m gonna go.”

He nodded. “Yeah.” But as I turned to the door, he said quietly, “Wait. Can you go again?”

I looked back at him, half‑smiling. “You’re just like your brother.”

He grinned. “Guess that runs in the family too.”

Suddenly Rhys’ head jerked to look at the door. Michael was standing there, shaking his head at us. I wasn’t sure what to say, or if I should say anything. But I thought for usre that he wasn’t going to like this.

Then he stepped inside, closing the door behind him.