Holding a Fleshlight for a Friend – Chapter 2

Everyone is 18.

Chapter 2: “What now?”

The next weekend, Zayne crashed at my place again, this time for a sleepover. We both knew it wasn’t just about finishing our project. There was no plan, no script. Just a weird kind of bond we had made during our last study sesh.

We were goofing off, lying on opposite ends of the bed, throwing snacks into each other's mouths, pretending like we weren't both thinking about last time. Eventually the topic of girls came up, then porn, then he hinted subtly at what we did last time.

Eventually, he sat up and said, “So… round two?”

I nodded. He grabbed the toy and looked at me.

“Would you… hold it down on the bed this time? I think I want to try that.”

He whipped out his monster, and just like before, I couldn't look away.

I held down the toy on the bed, while he faced me directly, our faces only inches apart, and started to hump into our little silicone friend. He jumped straight into his rapid thrusting again, but after a few minutes, he frowned. “It doesn’t feel the same.”

Without really thinking, I said, “Want to try it like last time?”

He hesitated. “But it got so… messy. Are you cool with that?”

I gave him a long look, pretending to think it over. Then I shrugged. “Yeah.”

So I took off my shirt, "for easy cleanup," lay on my back, and he stepped over my face again, laughing as he tried to balance. “This is the weirdest inside joke ever.”

I held the fleshlight on my chest. He lined up, mashed his nuts right on my face, and started moving, settling into a rhythm. Even though I had a huge boner from the start, it was actually funny again. But of course, I soon felt that same pull in my stomach. That thrum in my chest. This wasn’t just comedy.

I looked up at his large, sweaty genitals, right above me, and my instincts kicked in. Without thinking too hard, I stuck out my tongue.

He froze. “Oh…” he said, more surprised than anything. But he didn’t stop.

Instead, he started pausing between thrusts, edging himself slowly, stopping every few seconds and breathing harder. I could tell he was pressing down more firmly, enjoying my tongue on his balls while he entered the toy. When he paused again to prevent himself from finishing, I slowly pulled the toy away, slipping it off his heavy meat.

I could feel his weight shift, like he was about to move off me, maybe thinking I needed a break. But I reached up, steadying him at the hips, holding his musky manhood onto me.

He paused, waiting to see my next move. A silent question.

I reached down and pulled off my pajama pants, kicking them away. My own boner was revealed now, and there was nothing more to hide.

Something clicked in him. Some wordless shift. He leaned into it. Into me. It was intense, but not scary. Honest. Curious. Almost instinctive.

His dominant, assertive instincts took over and he started mashing himself onto my face, even rubbing his hole on my tongue. I gasped internally and stuck my tongue inside instinctively, absorbing his manly, sweaty musk. He didn't have any hair on his ass, and I got a sweet, pink hole to tongue-fuck all I wanted. He rubbed back and forth onto my mouth for a minute while I made out with his ass and held his hips. I never wanted it to end. I never wanted to step back and discuss what we were doing. I just wanted to live in this weird moment forever.

Then, a knock at the door.

We both froze.

“Everything okay in there?” My Mom’s voice called.

I shot up, heart pounding. “Yeah! All good, thanks!” I called back, too quickly.

We listened as her footsteps faded. The room was dead silent for a beat.

Then we cracked up. Nervous laughter, uncontrollable, gasping for air.

We didn’t talk about what almost just happened. We didn’t have to. It was all there in the way we looked at each other, in the way neither of us pulled away.

Later, when the lights were out and everything had quieted down, I rolled over and looked at him.

No words were shared, but my face said, still curious?

He looked at me with a gentle smile, confirming my thoughts.

So I scooted closer. And the next move wasn’t about jokes or dares or even the toy. It was about exploring something new. Together. Carefully, slowly, full of laughter and awkward pauses and wide-eyed wonder.

Whatever we were doing, it didn’t feel wrong. It felt honest. Like maybe we’d stumbled onto something neither of us had words for yet—but we weren’t in a rush to label it.

We were just figuring it out. One nut at a time.

We didn’t say anything. When I gathered myself again, I dove onto him, lifting his legs and exploring his ass, balls, and shaft with my tongue. He let me do my thing, holding his legs up and moaning in a delirious haze. He is loving it. I am loving it.

He grabbed the toy and started using it on me while I licked him, and I finished immediately, but I didn’t tell him. Instead, I reached for the colossal meat jutting out from his hips and went to town, feeling the fullness of a real cock in my mouth as I had the best orgasm of my life. I didn’t stop him from continuing to jerk my shaft with the toy, letting him start me on my next climax while I help him get his.

I listened to the sounds of his heavy breathing, soft moans, and the sloppy, wet noises of us exploring each other.

Eventually, Zayne surprised me again with his horny assertiveness. He couldn't resist anymore, and suddenly threw me onto my stomach and pushed his thick hog up to my ass. I was literally scared when he did it, not because I didn't want it, exactly, but because he was bigger than pornstars and I knew how lost he got in the middle of getting his nut. Even the fleshlight had already gotten torn in a few places from his thick cock and savage thrusting.

Still, I didn't resist, I had only gotten positive things from saying yes to things lately, so while he slowly, but roughly rubbed the head of his meat pole up and down my virgin ass, I reached over and grabbed the bottle of lube, and tossed it back to him.

When he slid into me, I wanted it more than anything. It was awkward at first, but then it wasn't. It was raw, honest, and intense. He was fully uninhibited, taking what he wanted, and I was pushing through the burn and sting and pangs of sharpness on my guts and clinging to that deep part of me that tingled with a burning enjoyment of the battering I was taking. I even leaned back into it, and the bad parts of it turned to numbness, while the good parts of it started to grow. I pushed up onto all fours, letting my boner breathe in the cool night air, and he readjusted, grabbing my hips and moving my entire body back and forth with his pleasure-taking. I touched myself and came instantly, feeling his thickness blocking my hole from contracting. It was another world for my head.

A minute later, he finally filled me with his nut, and we collapsed, both of us panting and sweaty. I was so sore, I thought my guts might fall out, but it felt worth it. The burn, the sting, it’s all part of this strange, beautiful bond we’ve stumbled into.

As he pulled out of me, I waited for his length to fully leave my hole, then melted further down onto the bed. So weirdly happy and relaxed. We just sat there and paused for a moment.

"You wanna raid your fridge?" he asked, making me perk up and smile at him.

"Yes."

We threw on our underwear and ran down the stairs like we were kids again, opening the fridge to find leftovers and stuff my mom had made. We grabbed a bunch of tupperwares and brought them up to my room, throwing on an animated show and munching down until we were stuffed. I felt like I had never felt this good before in my life.

Later, as we lay there in the dark, Zayne looked over at me with that same gentle smile. “So… weirdest sleepover ever, right?”

I laughed, and it felt good. “Definitely.”

We didn't need to say much else. It’s all there in the silence, in the way we’re both still grinning like idiots. Whatever this was, it was ours. And for once, everything felt perfect.

That night, lying in the dark, I found myself wondering what was so great about it. And, at risk of ruining our newly found bond, I found myself blurting it out without planning to: "Is it weird that this is the only thing that feels normal right now?"

Zayne shifted next to me. "What do you mean?"

I stared at the ceiling. "Like… everything else—school, college apps, girls, the future—it all feels like static. But this? Hanging out. Being honest. Even the weird stuff. It's the only thing that doesn’t make me feel like I’m faking something."

He was quiet for a second, then said, "Yeah. No, I totally get that. It’s like the only time I’m not in my head."

We both kind of exhaled. That was the emotional surprise. It wasn’t just about hormones or experimentation. It was about the relief of not having to perform. About feeling safe, real, and stupidly okay for once. I just rolled over facing away from him, my comfort position, and started to drift off to sleep. The last thing I noted before passing out was his hand gently touching my shoulder.

–[]–

In the days that followed, I texted my brother a lot, and talked about how much I was enjoying his gift. Not in detail at first, but eventually sending a casual message saying, “Hey, that thing you gave me… I might’ve shared it with someone.”

I expected teasing. What I didn’t expect was: “lmao. I used to do the same thing. Jacob and I basically had joint custody. Like literally every weekend.”

I stared at the text, stunned. Not just because my brother did it too, but because of the casual honesty. Then another message popped up—with a video.