Pretending To Be Gay 03

Everyone is 18 and fully consenting.

Chapter 3: Sunday

I woke up with his arm around me. For a second I stayed still, listening to his easy breath and the soft clicks of the ceiling fan. My stomach did a slow roll of happy and nervous, the good kind.

I looked at his body until he stirred. We giggled as we both acknowledged our morning wood situations. He poked mine with his finger, and I wiggled his. We just did this kind of stuff now. Then we were silent for a moment, and he leaned his head onto me.

“Pancakes,” I said into the quiet.

“Pancakes,” he echoed, voice rough against my shoulder.

My parents were gone, not unusual for a Sunday morning.

My little brother, Johnny shuffled in, hair a mess, rubbing his eyes. He grinned when he saw us at the stove in our underwear like some sitcom couple. We turned our heads toward him. He smirked back at us as if he caught us doing something wrong. "Can I have some?"

We made a ridiculous stack and ate at the kitchen island with syrupy hands. Johnny told a story about a teacher who says “nonetheless” five times a minute, and since we were feeling funny already it was actually a really funny story. Miles started counting on his fingers each time he said it and we lost it.

After we were stuffed with pancakes, Johnny went to his room to play video games or whatever he did in there all day.

Miles and I looked at each other when we were alone again. A little smirk crept onto his face. "Should we shower?"

We stripped off our underwear before we even got to the shower. Just as I was closing the door, I saw Johnny come out of his room and see my nude body directly. I just adjusted my stance to hide casually behind the door, but he had a clear view of Miles' large cock in the background as he stood at the sink. Johnny rolled his eyes at me and sort of smiled, I just looked at him nervously for a second before closing the door.

We talked about random stuff over the sound of the water, shoulders brushing as we traded space under the spray. It felt private and simple. He glanced at me, and I could tell from the look on is face what he was thinking. I looked down at his monster sausage and saw it start to get some blood flow. It was rising with those light pulses that a male gets, increasingly hard until it pointed forward. We wrapped our hands around ourselves and gently rubbed, taking our time, half watching each other, half closing our eyes. We were close enough that our fists were bumping into each other intermittently, a little laughter when nerves showed up. At this point, I knew this wasn't going to be the end of it.

A minute into jerking off, he spoke up.

"Hey, so..." he started, "Did you really do that finger thing?"

I looked at him curiously, until he clarified. "The finger up your ass."

I smiled sort of nervously. "I mean, just that once..." I said, my voice trailing off, not sure how I wanted to address this.

"Can you..." he hesitated again, even though I knew what he was going to say, "can you show it to me?"

My nervous smile spread into toothy confusion on my face. I slowly reached for the conditioner. I never even used it on my hair, just for beating off, sometimes. I coated my palm with it, then got it on my fingers. He was stroking himself faster while he watched me prepare. I reached my right hand down under my balls, stroking my shaft firmly with my left. I quickly stuck my middle finger inside myself. 

It was surreal doing this in front of someone else. It was the most wild thing I had ever done while discovering my body, and now I was showing my new best friend. 

"What does it feel like?" he asked. It was part curiosity, and part him wanting me to give him details as jerkoff fuel. 

"It's weird," I said, "but it's fun."

His big dick and his hand stroking it were almost touching my abs now, as he got closer. He was a few inches taller than me, and looked down at my face and watched my reaction to fingering my own ass. I kept rubbing myself while I wiggled my finger around and felt the strange sensations.

"Oh," I said, when it suddenly felt really good. "There's like this one spot that feels really good."

"Yeah?" he said, his hand becoming a blur over his heavy shaft.

"If I rub it just right... it feels really good," I said.

"Lemme see," he said.

I turned around slowly, letting his see my ass, with my finger shoving in and out of it from below. He bent down to watch me closely. 

"Are you gonna cum?" he asked, breathless.

"If you cum, I will," I said back.

"I... wanna try it," he stuttered, clearly overstimulated.

I turned around and pulled my hands away from my body. My pre-cum dripping meat pole tapped his thigh.

"Nice," I said. I tipped the bottle of conditioner and he opened his palm.

He reached down and started to fumble around. A minute into attempting it, he looked a little flustered. "It's not working."

I leaned into the no-limits concept we had developed, and followed my instincts. I pulled his hands away from his crotch, and reached between his legs from in front. His big balls rested on my wrist while that giant, veiny cock throbbed hot against my arm. I felt around for his hole between his muscular, squirming cheeks. When I found it, I shoved my slimy middle finger inside him quickly, two knuckles deep on the first penetration. He flinched, and released a slight vocalization of surprise.

After learning on myself, I tried to apply pressure to the same part of his insides, like a good friend. He gasped a bit and his hand went straight to his shaft. He gripped it firmly and made the veins pop out, then he started stroking the full length of it, his fist rubbing against my arm as his thighs squeezed my hand. I went wild with my middle finger that was inside him, wiggling and trying my hardest to press on that spot. I aimed as if I were trying to massage his balls from the inside, or like the back of his cock. The only thing sthat escaped his mouth were intermittent groans and "fuck" on repeat.

His body writhed while he stroked harder and soon his hole was constricting my finger and cutting off all the blood circulation. It actually hurt a but, but I pressed on, trying to give him a great O. In a few seconds he was coating my face with his jizz. It dripped down to my shoulder and my arm.

As he started to calm down from his nut, I slowly pulled my finger out. He flinched every time I pulled it out another centimeter, and when it popped out completely I felt his whole body relax.

"That was so good," he said, letting his big donkey dick hang between his legs. 

I still had conditioner on my hand, and I reached for my own dick, ready to rub out a quick one. He grabbed my wrist to stop me. 

“No dude,” he said, “this time, I owe you one, for real.” 

He turned my body around, so my perky ass faced him, and immediately started fingering me. He was going wild with it, and it wasn’t as coordinated as when I did it to myself. He could tell I wasn’t responding as well as he had, so he got down on his knees to focus and get up close with it. I tried to jerk it, but the random fingering was not doing it for me. That’s when I had another idea.

“Hey,” I said, looking over my shoulder down at him, he stopped and looked at me. “You know those videos where they… use their tongue?”

He looked at me like I was crazy.

I continued. “Could you try,” I hesitated, “licking it?”

I thought he was going to grimace, or at least push back, but he didn’t. Following the tone of the entire weekend, he just said, “well, I do owe you one,” he pressed his face into my ass. I guess because it was in the shower it felt clean and easy to lean into.

He stuck out his tongue, and I immediately felt tingles of pleasure. “That’s good,” I said. 

I guess encouragement was his energy source, because he pressed even harder into my ass and started licking in circles. I started rubbing my shaft hard, and bending over further, sticking out my ass to push back into his face. Soon he was pressed back against the wall while I bounced my ass roughly against his face. His tongue penetrated my hole and he alternated between hard tongue and soft tongue. After a minute, I was wondering if he was going to tap out, but instead he reached past my balls and pushed my hand out of the way. He stroked me downward, which was awesome. I was loving getting jerked off from a new angle. It was like he was milking me like a cow. I grunted repeatedly as he pushed me closer to the edge, and he started to pause every few strokes. It drove me wild, but I could feel the strongest orgasm ever building up behind the edging. Finally he pushed me over the edge and made me squirt like a dozen times onto the shower floor, even getting on his legs, while my hole pulsed with his tongue around it. 

I leaned forward and pulled off him slowly, turning around. My dick was right in his face, but I was drained and didn’t even bother to remove it. I looked down and saw that he was fully hard again and stroking himself. He looked up at me, and his eyes read pure horny energy. He was gooned the fuck out. He looked straight at my cock while he stroked himself, muttering, “How good was that nut, dude?” 

“It was amazing,” I said, holding still.

“Tell me how good it was,” he said, then leaned forward and surprised me by licking my cock. He closed his eyes, and lopped up any remnants of cum that remained on my dick head. I was shocked, but did as he asked.

“I loved the tongue going in and out of my ass,” I said. He grunted while he kept licking my dick and balls.

I went on. “You’re amazing with your tongue. Your next girlfriend is gonna be so lucky.”

He grunted and jizzed onto his abs, his body totally spent and melted into the shower floor. The hot water was still running over us, making rivers down our bodies, washing away the cum. He stood up slowly, then faced the drain. He started to piss, and it made me chuckle. He laughed too, and suddenly it was all just a big joke. I felt more carefree and liberated than I ever had in my life. I joined him and aimed at the drain, peeing next to him. We made our streams cross and splash into each other.

It occurred to me that this had been the gayest thing ever, and the fact that it didn’t bother me meant that at least some part of me was legit gay. I didn’t care if I was a top or bottom or whatever any of that meant. All I cared about was doing it with Miles, whatever we did together. 

We got out and dried off. We headed to the living room.

The day slid by. Music, dishes from the pancakes, homework that neither of us really started, because we just kept talking instead of doing it. He briefly mentioned that he was excited to “hit the showers” the next day at school. I smirked at him, knowing he was referring to my revealed habit of jerking off in the showers, and my promise to “show him,” whatever that really meant. 

Late afternoon rolled in with that Sunday feeling that just generally sucks. We had school in the morning that we weren’t totally ready for. The weekend was over. The free time that felt limitless on Friday was again put to an end. He finally packed up.

“I hate Sundays,” I said at the door, trying to smile.

“Same,” he said. “Tomorrow is close though.”

“Tomorrow,” I repeated, and we both knew what that meant.

When he left, the house felt too big. I flopped on the couch, with Johnny joining me soon after, and we put on a dumb show. He glanced over at me.

“So Miles is cool,” he said.

“Yeah,” I said.

Johnny scratched his cheek. “I am very into girls, like aggressively into girls,” he said. 

“Good… for you?” I said, not sure if this was typical annoying little brother shtick or what.

“I beat my dick every night to pussy and titties,” he continued.

I was about to hit him with a pillow, when he put up his arms. “But I get why you like hanging with Miles. He’s cool.”

It hit me what he was saying. He had watched Miles hang around the house all weekend, and it was obvious we were sneaking around and having some special fun. 

“Thanks,” I said, “yeah, he’s cool.” 

He smirked at me. It was sweet. We let the show continue without saying much.

—[]—

That night my phone lit up with a facetime. Miles, hair damp, sitting on his bed.

“Hey,” he said. “What are you doing after this call?”

“Probably going to have some more alone time,” I said, deadpan, “I’m gonna beat my meat one more time, of course.” He snorted so hard he had to cover his face.

“I’m drained,” he said, cheeks pink, “I tried the new technique on my ass when I got home, and I figured it out. I am probably benched for the night.”

“Benched,” I said, laughing. “You do love hearing about it though.”

“I do not deny,” he said.

We drifted into confessions, stuff we had never told anyone else. We both admitted we have this habit of recording our cumshots. Not for anyone else, just our weird little trophy case. It felt dumb to say out loud, which made it easier somehow.

“Show and tell,” I said, and before I could overthink it, I sent him a short clip from my camera roll, of the biggest load I had ever made. 

He watched it while we stayed on the facetime, then grinned like I had handed him a medal. A moment later he sent one back, all coy like he was not about to. I watched it and felt that fire turn on in my chest. It was just another brand new thing I’d never shared with a friend before, and there was no judgement between us. Beyond that, the one he sent me was an especially impressive cumshot. It looked like it shot over his head and onto his headboard or the wall. And he squirted like twenty times. I dropped my jaw in shock.

“Wow,” I said, “you win.”

We went quiet for a beat, not sure what else to talk about, but not ready to say goodbye.

“So, showers at school tomorrow,” he said.

“After practice,” I said.

He nodded, eyes bright.

We hung up and I stared at the ceiling, phone warm on my chest. Sunday still had its weight, but it did not feel like a trap. Tomorrow was close, tile and steam and a boy who makes pancakes with me. I set my alarm, slid under the blanket, and let myself continue being excited.