Anal Between Friends Doesn't Count As Sex

Everyone is 18+ and fully consenting.

I was spending the night at my friend Michael's house. We’d crashed at each other’s places plenty of times before, but usually it was just us burning through pizza or food from his kitchen and messing with video games until way too late, then passing out on the couch. His brother, Rhys was hanging out with us this time, instead of locking himself in his room like normal. I could tell the vibe felt different this time. Due to no fault of either Michael or me, the conversation kept returning to sex and girls and masturbating. Whenever we brought up sports, video games, literally anything, Rhys would interrupt with some question about boners, pussy, cum, condoms, fingering, porn, tits. Everything under the sun that a sex-obsessed male would think about. 

“Do you think girls really squirt and cum or is it just piss?”

“When you cum does it ever go so far that it hits your face?”

He even offered, “Is prostate milking real? I stuck a finger inside but didn’t find the prostate. I don’t think it’s real. I did cum though. It was actually awesome.”

At one point I ventured my own, “If you cum so many times in a day that nothing comes out, do you think you get cancer?”

We were all horny at this point and there was no denying it. When Rhys had gotten his fill of pestering us with his pervy questions, the tent in his sweatpants lead the way out of the room as he clearly needed some gooning time to himself. The last thing I saw was his little butt bouncing in his sweatpants as the door closed behind him across the hall.

“Jeez, dude,” I said to Michael, “he is really obsessed. Horny gooner maxing shit for real.”

“We were the same way,” he said. “Don’t you remember?”

“Fuuuck dude yes. And we didn’t have older brothers to ask anything.”

I remembered the time I was about to hook up with a girl for the first time. 

She had agreed to do oral, and I started to freak out. I was worried about everything. My pubes maybe weren’t as “good” as the guys in porn, I wasn’t sure if my dick head “was supposed to be shaped like that”. I even remember googling “Why is there a line down the back of my balls?” It was funny in retrospect, but Michael was the one who calmed me down after admitting all my insecurities. 

“Bro, I think you’re fine,” I remember him saying. “Look at this.”

He whipped out his dick. It was bigger than mine, but other than that, looked the same. Same shape, same amount of pubes. He let me pick up his shaft and make him hard. I even pulled it up and looked at his balls, making sure he had the same line going down the middle to the taint. 

“You’re bigger than me,” I had said. “But we’re pretty much the same. Alright I’m good.”

He smiled, and looked down at his swollen gland. “Well, now that I’m hard…”

“Let’s do it,” I said, and we beat our meats for about thirty seconds until he finished into a shirt together. After that, we were bonded for life. 

I had known since forever, and I always found myself getting excited when we hung out together, especially if it was just us alone. I never said it out loud, but there was a part of me that knew that if I were to go gay with someone, it would be him. It wasn’t a crush or anything, but he was the one guy that I could do anything with, and it would never be a bad thing, if that makes sense. I think he was the only one I could be fully authentic with. 

His parents were gone for the weekend, which meant there was no one to keep an eye on us or tell us to turn the TV down. It also meant his brother was next door playing porn loud enough for everyone to hear, apparently letting loose with his habits now that there were no adults. I knew Michael wasn’t going to say anything to him, so that meant just dealing with him intermittently when he would come to pester us. Still, it gave the whole night a sense of freedom. The rules were off and anything could happen.

Hanging out in his room wasn’t new or awkward. What was new was the way his reputation had grown at school. Everyone knew him for one thing, his dick. Since that one day when we had compared, he had grown considerably. From my estimate through his bulge, it was more than double the size of the last time I had seen it. 

People at school never let him forget it either. The guys would tell him to jump around during practice in his basketball shorts just so they could laugh at how obvious his bulge was. Instead of getting embarrassed, he’d laugh along, like he was in on the joke. He actually did the jumping too, making his floppy sausage bounce obscenely. If any girls were around, they would laugh, the guys would laugh harder, and I laughed too, but inside I couldn’t help comparing myself. I wasn’t small, but I also wasn’t Michael. Watching him act so casual about it always left me thinking about the difference between us. I had nothing to hide from him, but I felt a growing curiosity and admiration toward him that made us feel less like a unit that we always had been.

At one point that night, he joked about his size again himself. He looked down at his dick, so I looked at it too. He made it flex, bouncing up and showing the big, circumcised head of it. 

He grinned at me and said, “Bet you wish you had my problem.” 

I rolled my eyes, tossed a pillow at him, and shot back, “Yeah right, I’m fine with what I’ve got.” 

It wasn’t exactly true, and he knew it, but it was all in good fun. The light teasing had always been around, but now, with no one else there and nothing else to distract us but the horny antics of Rhys, it felt like the subject kept circling back to his body and what made him stand out against other guys.

We stayed up talking like we usually did, both of us stretched out on his bed with the lights off, staring at the ceiling. Normally our talks would stay light, sports, girls, whatever game we’d been playing or whatever, but this time the subject drifted directly into sex stories. That part wasn’t exactly unusual, but the way we kept going deeper into the details made it feel different. 

Ever since we actually started hooking up with girls, we had actually stopped going into explicit detail about everything we did sexually. We sort of evolved into conversations more like:

Me: “We hooked up.” 

Him: “Nice. Tits?”

Me: “You know it.”

Fist bump

But tonight, he started telling me about what he’d done with his girlfriend so far, admitting he’d gotten a blowjob a few times now, that he’d fingered her, and how one night he almost had sex but at the last second she got too nervous. He laughed as he told it, like he was proud he was finally catching up with what other guys bragged about, even if he hadn't gone "all the way".

I chimed in with my own stories, not wanting to sound like I was behind. I told him about the blowjobs I’d gotten recently, about fingering my last girlfriend a bunch of times, and about the first time actually I went down on her. He was nodding along, grinning, until I added the part about having anal sex with her. The words came out casually, but the second I said them he turned his head toward me. His eyebrows shot up like he wasn’t sure if he’d heard me right.

“Wait, you actually did that?” he asked, incredulous and curious.

“Yeah,” I said, glancing at him out of the corner of my eye. “She wanted to try it. Said it didn’t count as real sex since it wasn’t in her pussy.”

He let out a sexually frustrated exhale, then sat up halfway, propped on his elbow. “No way. You’re telling me you’ve already done anal, and it doesn’t even count?” His tone was a mix of disbelief and envy, like I’d taken some dubious step into manhood that still eluded him, and for the first time in a long time, he was actually jealous of me for once.

I laughed, a little embarrassed now that I’d said it out loud. “That’s what she told me. I didn’t argue. I just did it. I stuck it in and came in like a minute. I don’t even know if she liked it since we didn’t talk about it.” We laughed and he put a hand on my shoulder.

He shook his head, staring at me with a grin that made it clear he was both shocked and impressed. “Man, you’re actually full of surprises.”

He wanted to know if blowjobs counted then, leaning toward me with a half serious look. I told him that according to her rules, oral and anal didn’t count at all. Only vaginal did. He laughed again and shook his head, muttering, “That’s wild,” and I could tell his head was swimming with it. He was adjusting his bouncy, growing bulge as he asked me more questions about her rules.

We went back and forth a little, tossing jokes, but the energy in the room was shifting. It wasn’t just funny anymore. The longer we talked, the more it felt sexually charged. We were having a moment, talking about stuff we normally didn’t talk about, touching ourselves over our shorts and getting each other amped up. 

He would laugh, then go quiet, then laugh again, almost like he was stalling. I noticed he kept tugging at the waistband of his shorts too, like he couldn’t quite get comfortable. Like he wanted to take them off. His body language told me he was straight up horny. His shirt was riding up and his abs were showing, another thing he had that was better than me. Eventually he just took off his shirt, making his bulge even more pronounced against his thin waist.

I was having the same problem. My dick was rock hard in my shorts, pressing against the fabric and making me fidget too. Every time I adjusted, I caught him glancing quickly before looking back at the ceiling. It was like we both knew exactly what the other was dealing with, but neither of us wanted to be the first to admit that we needed to jerk off. We just kept talking about girls and sex and hypotheticals. It was kind of like the old days, only now we were adding in our actual experiences. It was like the old days, except even hornier now.

Finally, he laughed again, a little nervously this time, and said, “Man, this is the kind of shit that makes you just want to jerk it right now.” He threw it out casually, but it was obvious he was testing me.

I turned my head toward him and smirked. “You saying you want to?”

He shook his head, grinning, “Nah, just saying. Unless…” 

We chuckled, and he went on, “But if what your girl said is true… then half the stuff doesn’t even count anyway.”

I was quiet, thinking about what he said. What he was getting at.  

He grinned wider now and said, “So if that logic is true, then technically we could blow each other or even fuck each other in the ass and it wouldn’t count.” He said it half laughing, like he expected me to call him insane, but he didn’t take it back either. My eyes just went wide. This was getting more involved than I was expecting. 

We both cracked up, though this laugh felt different. It wasn’t the usual kind of dumb joke we’d toss around with other guys in the locker room.

I shook my head and grinned back. “You’re crazy, though,” I told him, but I didn’t deny it. “Technically you’re not wrong though.”

He raised his eyebrows, studying me. “So you agree? It doesn’t count?”

I shrugged, feeling my heart beat faster. “According to her logic, yeah. I mean, it’s not real sex, right?” I was testing him now, repeating it back to see if he’d double down or back off.

He smirked, lying on his side now so he could face me directly. He was doing this nervous thing he does, where he licks and nibbles on his lips, making them even bigger and pinker than normal. In the dim light of this room, I could just make out his teeth sucking in his lips repeatedly. “You’re actually serious right now?”

“Serious as you are,” I shot back, holding his gaze. My tone was joking, but my chest felt tight I turned toward him on the floor as he rested on his bed. My knees were bent and my tented shorts were clearly visible to him. I adjust my leg so the leg of my shorts would ride up, exposing my throbbing erection. I flexed it, making it bounce for good measure, the red, excited head of my cock exposed for him to see.

Then he said, “I mean, I could just lean down right now and suck you, and it wouldn’t count.” My heart jumped again hearing him say it. I felt pressure in my throat, and thought I might pass out for a moment.

I came back with, “Or I could suck you until you’re hard and then let you fuck my ass, and it still wouldn’t count as anything.” That shut him up for a second. He looked at me like he was searching for any sign that I was bluffing.

Then he smirked and barely started crawling out of his bed, slowly approaching me. “Exactly. Wouldn’t count at all, like it never happened.”

The silence after was just both of us waiting for someone to make the next move.

I took a breath and reached forward. My hands found the waistband of his shorts, tugging them down. He didn’t stop me. If anything, he lifted his hips to help. His underwear came down with them, and there it was, bigger than I’d expected even though I already knew the jokes were true. His bright pink tip was already mostly hard, and his pubes were short and dense, a dark brown patch above his heavy, pale dick. I wrapped my hand around it, feeling the weight of it, and then leaned in and took him in my mouth. The heat that came off him was surprising for some reason. He was hard as steel and it was a chore trying to stretch my jaw wide enough to fit him inside, but curiosity was running the show and I had to know what it would be like to pleasure his fat cock.

The first taste was strange, but not bad. My tongue slid around the head, and he let out a low sound that told me he wasn’t just going along with this nervously. He was into it. I kept going, sucking harder, getting sloppy without even realizing it. The wet slurping sounds filled the room, and every now and then he gasped or cursed under his breath. My own cock was throbbing by then, and when I glanced up, I caught him looking down at me with his mouth open like he couldn’t believe it was happening.

While I was focused on him, he tugged at my shorts until they were down too. His hand brushed over my ass as he pulled my underwear off. I pulled off his cock for a second, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, and looked at him.

“Hang on,” I said, my voice low. “You need lube.”

He was caught off guard. “Uh, why?”

“Because this isn’t gonna work unless we’ve got something. Baby oil, lotion, whatever,” I told him. “It just doesn’t work without it.”

He laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “In porn don’t they just spit on it?”

“Yeah, but that’s like, not real,” I said, climbing to my feet. “I’ll check your parents’ bathroom.”

He hesitated but then nodded, like he was really unconvinced that I was right. I padded across the hall in just my t-shirt, found the bottle under the sink, and brought it back. Tossing it to him, I smirked at him. “Now we’re set.”

That broke the tension a little. He laughed nervously as he picked up the bottle, pouring a generous amount into his palm before rubbing it over himself. “Man, this feels so wrong,” he muttered with a grin, “but I can’t believe how hot this is. No downside, just sex that doesn’t count as sex.”

Something in our broken hormonal brains made that seem like valid logic, and in the moment I completely agreed with him. I sat back on my heels, watching him slick his cock, the shine catching the dim light. My heart was pounding. 

“Just don’t rush it,” I told him. “Go slow, make sure it works.”

He nodded quickly, his breathing uneven. I crawled back up onto the bed and got on all fours, looking over my shoulder at him. “Go ahead and fuck me.”

That seemed to be all he needed. He moved behind me, lining his body against my back, breathing on my neck and my ear, and I felt the thick, greased up head of his cock press between my cheeks. The pressure alone made me hold my breath. My body tensed on instinct, but I forced myself to relax, reminding myself that the baby oil would help. He pushed slowly, and I groaned into the pillow as he eased his way in. The stretch was overwhelming, but the heat of it sent a shiver through me that made me grip the sheets tight.

“Fuck,” he whispered behind me. “You’re actually taking it.”

“Just keep going,” I managed, biting my lip.

He started moving, cautious at first, pausing every few seconds to make sure I was handling it. Each thrust got a little deeper, and soon his hesitation faded and he developed a steady rhythm of pressing in and out of me in a way that was giving him the pleasure he wanted and no longer overwhelming to me. The tension between us shifted from nervous hesitation to animated pleasure, and every push made my abdomen tremble as I clutched the sheets.

The sounds evolved into bodies slapping together, my moans and his grunts, and the bed shifting under us. When he went faster, his skin clapped against me and it literally sounded like applause. It was already a lot rougher than when I had fucked my girlfriend, unless it just felt that way on the receiving end. He was lasting longer than I had as well. I could feel him getting closer, his rhythm adding pauses and sporadic pulses. 

“I think I’m gonna cum soon,” he whispered.

“Then do it,” I said. “You can cum whenever you want. Cum inside me… Just cum.”

I was tugging myself rapidly, and when he finally pushed deep and pulsed inside me, I could actually feel it as the warmth filled me, and the pressure on my insides was enough to make me cum too. I held my dick tightly and shot onto the bed beneath me, losing my breath and the whole world disappearing around me for a moment. He pulled out and collapsed next to me. We lay there in silence, both staring at the ceiling again, until we finally said it at the same time, almost laughing: “Never happened.”