The next day I slept until late until a sudden buzz startled me. It was a message from Mike. "Hey, Gio," Mike's message read. "Can we talk? I think something weird is going on."
I looked at the message, my heart pounding in my chest. As if on cue, another message from Mike popped up: "Gio, I swear, something's not right. I also had a fight with Lisa. And I had weird dream last night" My heart leaped into my throat. This was it—the power at work. I had to be careful, had to play it cool. I quickly typed out a response: "relax man, probably is just hangover" I sent the message with a chuckle, hoping to brush off Mike's concerns. I tossed my phone aside, a sense of unease lingering in the pit of my stomach. The power was working, Mike was feeling it, and I was caught in the middle. I needed to tread carefully.
Just as I pressed send on my message to Mike, my phone started to ring, the sudden noise jarring me. I fumbled to grab it, my heart pounding in my chest as I saw Mike's name flashing on the screen. I had to act like everything was normal, like I had no idea what was going on.
"Hey, Mike," I answered, trying to keep my voice steady. "What's up?" There was a pause on the other end of the line, and I could hear Mike's heavy breathing, like he was trying to catch his breath. "Gio, I think... I think something's wrong," he finally said, his voice shaking with uncertainty. "I just got off the phone with Lisa. She said the girls there heard something about another girl. All these girls I've been talking to...I need to talk to a friend,I think maybe it's best if we talk in person," Mike said, his voice still shaky.
"Yeah, yeah, of course," I replied, trying to keep my voice casual. "How about we go for a walk? Clear our heads, get some fresh air?"
There was a pause before Mike responded, "Yeah, sure. That sounds good. Where should we meet?"
"How about the park near my place? It's not too crowded this time of day," I suggested. I could picture the sprawling green space, the perfect place to have a private conversation.
"Alright, see you there in half an hour," Mike agreed.
We hung up, and I took a deep breath, trying to shake off the unease that was settling in my stomach. I had to play this cool.
As I made my way to the park, I could feel the weight of Mike's concern hanging. I knew the power was working, but I had to keep up appearances.
The park was quiet this time of day, the usual noon crowd replaced by a handful of dog walkers and elderly couples strolling hand in hand. I spotted Mike sitting on a bench by the duck pond, his elbows resting on his knees, his head in his hands.
As I approached, he looked up, his eyes meeting mine. The tension in his face was palpable, his brows furrowed, his mouth set in a tight line.
"Hey, Mike," I said, taking a seat beside him. "You okay?"
Mike let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know, Gio.
It's just... it's been weird lately. Ever since I saw you last night, things have been off," Mike confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.
I sighed, resting my elbows on my knees and mirroring Mike's posture. "Last night was kind of a blur for me. I must have had too much to drink. The girls there must have said something to Lisa today..."
Mike turned to face me, his blue eyes searching mine. I reassured him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Sometimes it's better to be more careful around our friends' girlfriends.."
"But that's just it, Gio," Mike said, his voice filled with worry. "After the pub last night, I went back to Lisa's place. We were all over each other, and then suddenly, I couldn't... Do anything. My cock just wouldn't get hard. I've never had that problem before."
I felt a pang of guilt at the mention of last night. I knew what had happened, and I knew it was because of the power the stranger had given me. But I couldn't tell Mike that. I had to keep up the charade, play it cool.
"Look, buddy, that can happen to anyone," I lied, trying to keep my voice casual.
"Maybe you're just overtired, or stressed. It's nothing to worry about."
Mike shook his head, his brows furrowed in confusion. "No, Gio, it's not just that. It's... it's the weirdest thing. I fell asleep after that, and then I had this dream. About you." He looked away, his cheeks flushing slightly. "It was... a sex dream, I guess. I don't know how else to describe it."
I felt a jolt of surprise at his words, but I tried to keep my expression neutral. "A sex dream, huh?" I asked, my voice light. "Well, that's a new one. Never had a straight guy tell me he dreamed about me before."
Mike laughed nervously, running a hand through his hair.
"Yeah, I know it sounds weird. But it was... intense. Like, I could feel it, you know? The way you touched me, the things you said. It was so real."
I raised an eyebrow, genuinely intrigued by Mike's admission. "So, what did we do in this dream of yours? I'm all ears," I said, trying to keep my voice light and casual, even as my heart pounded in my chest. I couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt at the thought of influencing Mike's dreams, but I pushed the feeling aside. I had to focus on the task at hand.
Mike hesitated for a moment, his cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red. "It's... kind of embarrassing to talk about, to be honest," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I guess, since you asked, we were...
you know, I don't even know how to say it. It was so weird, but it felt so real." Mike's voice trailed off, and he let out a shaky laugh, trying to shake off the awkwardness.
I felt a surge of excitement at his words, but I kept my expression neutral. "Well, I am an open book, Mike. You can tell me. What were we doing in this dream?" I prodded, a smirk tugging at the corners of my mouth.
Mike took a deep breath, his cheeks still flushed. "Okay, fine. It was... it was about you sucking my cock. And then, you know, swallowing everything." He let out another nervous laugh, and I could see the embarrassed blush spreading across his neck.
I raised an eyebrow, trying to keep my expression casual. "Swallowing everything, huh?
That's intense," I said, casually. I couldn't help but feel a thrill at Mike's revelation, but I kept my expression neutral. "So, what did you do after that? Did you wake up then?" I asked, trying to keep the conversation going, eager to hear more.
But Mike looked away, his cheeks still flushed. "I'm not gay, Gio," he said quickly, his voice low. "I've never... I don't even know why I'm telling you this. It was just a dream, that's all."
I shrugged, trying to play it cool. "Hey, man, it's nothing to be embarrassed about. Dreams are just dreams. They don't mean anything." I gave him a reassuring smile, hoping to put him at ease. "Besides, I've had some pretty weird dreams myself.
Not about you, of course," I added quickly, seeing the sudden tension in Mike's face. "But you know what they say, right? Dreams are just the brain's way of processing stuff. It doesn't mean anything."
Mike stood up abruptly, his cheeks still flushed. "I should go," he said, his voice tight. "I've got some stuff to do."
I stood up as well, trying to keep my expression neutral. "Okay, sure. No problem," I replied, my mind racing. I knew the power was working, but something about Mike's sudden departure felt off. I needed to find out what was really going on. "Hey, Mike, wait up," I called out, falling into step beside him as he started to walk away.
Mike glanced at me, his eyes guarded.
"I'm fine, Gio. Really."
"Come on," I insisted, clapping him on the back. "Just one drink. It'll help you relax, clear your head. Trust me, I know what I'm talking about." I gave him a friendly smile, hoping to put him at ease.
We walked back to my place, the silence between us heavy with unspoken words. As we entered my apartment, I led Mike to the kitchen, pulling two beers from the fridge. I popped the caps off and handed one to Mike, our fingers brushing briefly.
Mike took the beer, his eyes darting away from mine. "Thanks," he muttered, taking a swig.
I leaned against the counter, watching him, my mind racing. I knew I had to be careful, to play this right. The power was working, but I needed to be subtle.
"So, how's Lisa been lately?" I asked, casually taking a sip of my beer. I watched Mike's face, looking for any sign of discomfort or hesitation.
Mike hesitated for a moment, his brows furrowing in confusion. "Yeah, except last night and this morning all good." he replied, his voice filled with uncertainty.
"She's been acting a bit off lately, to be honest. Jealous, even. Says I've been too busy with work and friends, that I don't spend enough time with her. It's like she's on edge all the time. I don't know if it's me or if she's just stressed."
I nodded, taking a sip of my beer, trying to act casual. "That's rough, man. Relationships can be tough sometimes. But if she cares about you, she should be understanding, right?" I said, trying to keep the conversation light, even as my mind was racing with possibilities. This could be the power at work, making Lisa jealous, making her push Mike away.
But I had to tread carefully, act normal. "So, what happened after that?" I asked, trying to keep my voice casual, even as my mind was racing with possibilities. Mike took another swig of his beer, his eyes downcast. "Well, after that, we had a huge fight," he admitted, his voice filled with frustration. "She said I didn't want her, that something was wrong with me. She accused me of cheating on her. I know it happened but I do love her, man..." He let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. "It was a mess, Gio. I didn't know what to say, how to explain it. I mean, I've never had a problem with sex before. It was like my body just... betrayed me." He looked up at me, his eyes filled with worry. "And now, I don't know what to do. I love Lisa, but I'm afraid it will happen again...
I could see the worry and frustration in Mike's eyes, and I knew I had to do something to help him relax, to take his mind off the chaos that had suddenly invaded his life. I looked over at the coffee table, where a small glass jar sat, filled with green buds. I picked it up, giving it a little shake.
"Hey, Mike, how about we take the edge off, huh?" I said, a small smile playing on my lips as I held out the jar towards him. "I've got some stuff that'll help you unwind.
The herbal kind." I held out the jar towards Mike, a small smile playing on my lips. Mike hesitated, his eyes darting between my face and the jar. His brows furrowed, and he let out a shaky laugh. "I don't know, man. I'm still hangover." He looked away, shrugging his shoulders.
"Come on, Mike. It's just a little bit. You'll see," I insisted, giving him a gentle nudge. After a moment's hesitation, Mike reached out and took the jar from me. He uncapped it, his fingers brushing against mine, and pulled out a small, tightly rolled joint. He looked up at me, his eyes filled with uncertainty. "You sure about this?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. I gave him a reassuring nod.
"Of course, Mike. Trust me, this'll do the trick." I struck a match and held the flame to the end of the joint, inhaling deeply as the tip burned brightly. I passed it to Mike, who took a tentative puff, his eyes watering slightly. I couldn't help but smile. This was exactly what he needed—a little bit of weird, a little bit of danger.
As Mike handed the joint back to me, he let out a cough, his face turning red. "Jeez, Gio. That's strong stuff," he said, his voice hoarse. I took another long drag, feeling the familiar warmth spread through my body. "You'll get used to it," I said, blowing out a cloud of smoke. Mike took another tentative puff, his eyes still watering. "So, Gio," he said, his voice slightly slurred, "can I ask you something? It's a bit embarrassing." I raised an eyebrow, taking another drag of the joint. "Sure, man. What's on your mind?" I handed the joint back to Mike, who took a deeper inhale this time. He held it in for a moment before exhaling, his eyes meeting mine. "It's just... I don't want to sound weird or anything, but I was just curious.. what does turn you on? what do you like in men?" Mike's question caught me off guard, my eyes widening in surprise. I wasn't expecting him to open up about personal desires, especially not in such a direct manner.
"Well, Mike, that's a loaded question," I said, quickly trying to compose myself. I took another drag of the joint, stalling for time as I considered my response. I knew I had to tread carefully, not wanting to scare him off or make him uncomfortable. "I guess I like confident men, you know? Guys who know what they want and aren't afraid to go after it." I smiled, trying to keep the conversation light. "What about you? What turns you on?" I asked, turning the question back on him.
Mike's cheeks flushed a deep shade of red, and he looked away, his eyes scanning the room as if searching for an answer.
"No, that's not what I meant," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I just meant... what specific things do you like? Like, what kinds of... characteristics or looks?" He took another drag of the joint, holding it in for a moment before exhaling a cloud of smoke. He turned back to face me, his eyes filled with a mix of curiosity and embarrassment.
I raised an eyebrow, taking another drag of the joint myself. "Well, that's a bit personal, don't you think?" I said, trying to keep my tone light and casual. "But to answer your question, I guess I like all sorts of things. A nice smile, a great laugh, a sense of humor. Physical attraction is important, of course, but it's not everything. It's about the whole package, you know?" I shrugged, trying to keep the conversation flowing. "Your turn.
What are your specifics?" Mike prodded, his curiosity clearly piqued as he leaned in, his eyes sparkling with a newfound intensity. I chuckled, taking another drag of the joint before passing it back to him. The air in the room felt charged, the atmosphere shifting subtly, like an electric current buzzing beneath our conversation.
"Alright, alright," I said, setting the joint down on the coffee table and leaning back against the couch. I looked up at the ceiling for a moment, considering my words. I knew I had to tread carefully, to reveal just enough to keep Mike engaged but not so much that I gave away too much. After all, the power was working, and I needed to keep Mike guessing, keep him on the hook.
"I guess I have a thing for men who are... unapologetically themselves.
Guys who aren't afraid to show off what they've got." I let my eyes flicker down to Mike's crotch briefly before meeting his gaze again, a small smirk playing at the corners of my mouth. Mike's eyes widened in surprise, his cheeks flushing a deep shade of red. "There's just something about a guy who's not afraid to show off a little, you know?
"But, uh, that's not all, Mike," I admitted, my voice filled with a mix of humiliation and curiosity. I looked away for a moment, unable to meet his gaze. "I, uh, I have a thing for... sniffing used underwear. And, God, the smell of a cock, you know? Raw and musky. It drives me wild." I let out a shaky laugh, my cheeks flushing with heat. I couldn't believe I was admitting this to Mike, but the words just seemed to tumble out of my mouth. "And, fuck, I love sucking cock.
Swallowing every last drop," I admitted, my voice low as I met Mike's gaze, challenging him to react. Suddenly, the shrill ringing of a phone cut through the dense fog of conversation and weed smoke. Mike jumped, his eyes wide with surprise, as he fumbled to pull his phone from his pocket. He glanced at the screen, his cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red. "Shit, it's Lisa," he muttered, his voice filled with a mix of surprise and fear. He quickly swiped to answer the call, pressing the phone to his ear. "Hey, babe," he said, his voice filled with forced casualness.
I watched Mike as he listened to Lisa on the other end of the line, his expression growing more and more tense with each passing moment.
Suddenly, his face contorted in a mixture of surprise and anger, and he abruptly ended the call, throwing his phone onto the coffee table with a clatter. "What the hell was that about?" I asked, my brow furrowed in concern.
Mike ran a hand through his hair, his breath coming in short bursts, his chest heaving. "She's breaking up with me," he announced, his voice filled with disbelief and pain. "Said she can't trust me anymore, that something's not right. She... she said she dreamt I was cheating on her." Mike's eyes met mine, a storm of emotions raging within them.
I stood up from the couch, my heart pounding in my chest. This was it—the power working its magic.
Mike's confusion and anger were palpable, his eyes wild with disbelief. I couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. But I had to play it cool, had to act as if none of this was my doing. I reached out, placing a comforting hand on Mike's shoulder. "Hey, man, calm down. It's going to be okay," I said, my voice filled with concern. But Mike shook me off, his eyes blazing with anger. "No, Gio, it's not okay," he snapped, his voice shake with emotion. "I love Lisa, and now she wants to dump me? I fucked up, and I don't know what's going on, but I need to figure it out.
Through the haze of confusion and anger, Mike suddenly pushed himself off the couch, his eyes blazing with determination. He stormed towards the door, his breath coming in rapid bursts, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest. "I gotta go, Gio," he said, his voice shaking with emotion. "I gotta talk to Lisa. I gotta fix this." With that, he grabbed his jacket from the back of the couch and practically threw it on, not bothering to button it up. He turned to face me one last time, his eyes filled with a mix of frustration and despair. "Something's not right here, Gio. And I'm going to find out what it is." With that, he stormed out of my apartment, leaving me standing alone in the midst of the cloud of smoke and the faint smell of weed. The door slammed shut behind him, the sudden silence deafening in its intensity.
I stood there for a moment, a storm of emotions raging within me. I knew the power was at work, but I couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt at the mess Mike was in. I sighed, running a hand through my hair as I made my way back to the couch. I needed to clear my head, to take my mind off everything that had happened. I grabbed the remote from the coffee table and turned on the TV, flipping through the channels until I landed on a old black-and-white film. I sank back into the cushions, the soft glow of the screen casting long shadows across the room.
As the film played on, I found myself drifting in and out of consciousness, the familiar story lulling me into a state of drowsiness. I blinked slowly, my eyelids growing heavy, the lines between reality and the movie blurring with each passing moment.
The doorbell rang suddenly, its shrill sound piercing through the haze of sleep and weed. I jolted upright on the couch, my heart pounding as I glanced at the clock on the wall. It had been four hours since Mike stormed out, the sudden noise filling me with a mix of surprise and dread. Who could it be at this hour?
I made my way to the door, my footsteps heavy with the weight of the day's events. As I peered through the peephole, my heart leaped into my throat at the sight of Mike standing on the other side, his shoulders slumped, his eyes wild and unfocused. I could see the faint glow of a bottle in his hand, the liquid inside sloshing with each unsteady step.
"Mike?" I called out, my voice filled with concern as I swung open the door. "What's wrong, man?
You okay?" I asked, my voice laced with concern as I caught a whiff of alcohol on Mike's breath. He swayed slightly on his feet, his eyes glassy and unfocused. "I've been drinking, Gio," he slurred, his words running together in a jumbled mess. "I needed to forget, you know? Lisa, the dream, all of it. It's just too much." He took another unsteady step forward, the bottle in his hand sloshing with each movement.
"Hey, hey, come on in," I said, stepping aside to let him enter. I guided him towards the couch, helping him lower himself onto the cushions. He dropped the bottle onto the coffee table with a thud, the amber liquid inside glinting in the dim light.
I sat down next to him, my body tense with worry. "Mike, what happened?
You said you needed to talk to Lisa," I prodded, my concern growing as I watched him struggle to maintain his composure.
He let out a bitter laugh, his gaze focused on the bottle of whiskey sitting on the coffee table. "I did talk to her, Gio. We had another huge fight. She's convinced I'm cheating on her, that something's wrong with me. She said she can't deal with it anymore, that she's over it. Over me," he slurred, his voice thick with emotion.
"Shit, man. I'm sorry," I said, my heart aching for him. I knew the power was at work, but seeing Mike like this, so broken and confused, sent a pang of guilt coursing through me.
"She said she dreamt it again, that I was with someone else.
Can you believe that shit, Gio?" Mike exclaimed, his voice shaking with frustration and alcohol. He leaned back against the cushions of the couch, his eyes closed tightly as if trying to block out the painful reality.
I shook my head in disbelief, the weight of the situation settling heavily on my chest. "That's fucking absurd, Mike. Dreams don't mean shit," I agreed, trying to sound supportive. "You know what you need? A strong cup of coffee. Let me make you some." I stood up from the couch, leaving Mike to his thoughts as I made my way to the kitchen. I filled the coffee maker with water, the sound of the liquid gurgling through the machine a welcome distraction from the heavy silence hanging in the air.
As the coffee brewed, I couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled in the pit of my stomach. Something was off, and I couldn't quite put my finger on it.
From the kitchen, I heard Mike's voice, muffled but clearly irritated. "God, it's so hot in here. And my fucking feet are on fire," he grumbled, his words punctuated by a frustrated sigh. I grimaced, knowing that the steaming cup of coffee I was preparing wouldn't do much to alleviate his discomfort.
As I carried the coffee back into the living room, I couldn't help but notice the sudden change in atmosphere. The room felt heavier, more charged, like the air before a storm. And then I saw Mike, slumped on the couch, his shoulders slouched and his head resting against the back of the cushions.
But it wasn't just his posture that caught my eye. As I rounded the corner into the living room, I nearly dropped the coffee mug I was holding. Mike was sitting there in nothing but his white boxers, his legs spread wide, and his cock prominent and undeniable.
"Woah, Mike, what the—?" I stammered, my eyes wide with surprise. "What happened to your clothes?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
I hadn't expected this, not at all. My heart pounded in my chest, and I felt my cheeks flush with a mix of embarrassment and... well, something else. Something I didn't want to admit to myself. I set the coffee mug down on the table, the liquid sloshing slightly with my unsteady hand.
Mike looked up at me, his eyes glassy and unfocused from the alcohol. "It was too hot, man. Too fucking hot for clothes," he slurred, his words running together. He gestured vaguely to his boxers, as if that explained everything.
I stood there, frozen, my mind racing. What was happening here? Was this just the alcohol talking, or was something else going on? I felt a surge of heat in my chest, a mix of excitement and unease.
I didn't know what was happening, but I couldn't deny the anticipation that coursed through my veins.
There was a moment of silence, and it seemed like Mike had fallen asleep, his eyes closed and his breath coming in slow, steady snores.
I stared at him, my mind racing. Should I wake him up? Should I leave him be? And then, something shifted inside me. A primal, carnal hunger awakened, one that I had been trying to suppress for so long. I could see it now, so clear, so tempting. Mike's body was laid out before me like a feast, and I was starving.
I took a deep breath, my heart pounding in my chest. I knew I should walk away, leave him be, but the power was urging me on, and I couldn't fight it any longer. I had to see where this led.
I sat silently near Mike for half an hour, my heart pounding like a drum in my chest, my eyes drinking in every detail of his body, from the smooth expanse of his chest to the hard line of his abs to the bulge in his boxers. I could feel the heat radiating off him, the scent of his skin and the alcohol on his breath filling the air around us, and I was powerless to resist the pull.
All of a sudden, Mike said, "You know what? It's been five days since I've changed my underwear." He lifted his hips slightly, gripping the waistband of his boxers and pulling them down just enough to reveal the top of his pubic hair. He smirked at me, a lazy, drunken smile that sent a jolt of electricity straight to my cock.
"You wanna smell them, Gio?" he slurred, his hand still gripping the waistband of his boxers, the fabric bunching up around his hips. The question hung in the air, loaded with a mixture of challenge, curiosity, and a strange, almost desperate need. My heart pounded in my chest, my body on edge as I struggled to process the sheer audacity of his words. The room felt charged, the air thick with anticipation and the faintest hint of alcohol and sweat.
I hesitated for a moment, my mind racing. This was insane, absolutely fucking insane. But I could feel the power working its magic, urging me on, promising me everything I had ever desired. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what I was about to do. I stood up from the couch, my eyes locked onto Mike's, my heart pounding in my chest.
Without breaking our gaze, I leaned in closer, my nostrils flaring as I took in the scent of his boxers, the faint aroma of his body, his sweat, and his arousal mingling together in a heady, intoxicating cocktail. The musky, raw smell was unlike anything I had ever experienced, and it sent a shiver down my spine, my cock throbbing with desire. I inhaled deeply, my eyes fluttering closed as I savored the moment, the world around us melting away until there was nothing but this—the two of us, the heat, the scent, the raw, primal need.
Mike let out a low moan, his hips arching up slightly, pressing himself against my face. "Fuck, Gio," he murmured, his voice thick with desire and drunken haze.
I felt his cock start to stiffen against my face, the bulge in his boxers pressing against my nose, the scent of him growing stronger, more potent. The smell was intoxicating, a raw, musky aroma that spoke of male sweat, arousal, and something darker, more primal. I could feel his body responding to my touch, his cock growing harder, larger, until it strained against the fabric of his boxers, the outline of it massive and intimidating.
The realization of what I was doing hit me like a punch to the gut. I was on my knees in front of my straight, drunk best friend, my face pressed against his cock, inhaling his scent like a fucking addict. I pulled back slightly, my eyes widening in a mix of shock and arousal. "Mike...
what are you doing?" I breathed, my heart pounding in my chest as I stared at the bulge in his boxers, my hand hovering just inches away from the source of that intoxicating scent. I could feel the heat radiating off him, the raw, primal desire that seemed to be consuming us both. Despite my better judgment, my hand moved of its own accord, reaching out to grasp the fabric of his boxers, my fingers brushing against the hard length of his cock.
Mike let out a low, guttural moan, his hips arching up to meet my touch. "Gio... I don't know," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire and confusion. "I just...
I can't explain it," Mike groaned, his head falling back against the couch cushions. His eyes were closed, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he surrendered to the sensation of my hand, now firmly wrapped around his cock through the thin fabric of his boxers. His hips moved in time with my strokes, his body pressing against my hand, urging me to go faster, harder. I could feel the heat of him, the hardness, and the way his body reacted to my touch, like a wild animal finally set free. I stroked him slowly at first, my fingers tracing the length of him, marveling at the sensation of him, so hard and so ready for me. He was thick and heavy in my hand, and I could feel the pulse of him, throbbing with need and desire.
As I stroked him, I felt his hand move, his fingers brushing against my cheek, my jaw, before settling in my hair. He gripped gently, pulling me closer, urging me on. The movement was unexpected, but not unwelcome. In fact, it sent a jolt of Electricity coursing through me, a primal hunger clawing at my insides.
I leaned in, my nose brushing against the fabric of his boxers, my lips inches away from the tip of his cock. I could feel his breath, hot and ragged, against my face, and I could taste him—the musky, raw scent of male arousal, the faint tang of sweat and alcohol. It was intoxicating, and I wanted more.
"Gio," he whispered, his voice thick with need.
I felt his cock throb in my hand, and before I could overthink it, I leaned in and licked his boxers, tasting the salt of his skin mixed with the musky scent of his desire. The fabric was warm and damp with sweat, and the taste of him was overwhelming, raw, and primal.
I hesitated for a moment, my heart pounding in my chest, then I hooked my fingers into the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down, exposing his cock. It was thick and heavy, the tip glistening with precum, and I couldn't help but lick my lips in anticipation. I looked up at Mike, our eyes meeting for a brief moment before he nodded, his breath coming in ragged gasps. I took him in my hand, my thumb brushing against the tip, smearing the precum and sending a shiver through him. I leaned in, my tongue darting out to lick the sensitive head, tasting him fully for the first time.
Mike groaned, his hips bucking slightly as I took him deeper into my mouth, my lips wrapping around him, my tongue swirling around the shaft.
Gio's hand shook as he stroked Mike, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he watched me work. The room was filled with the sounds of our pleasure—the wet slurping of my mouth on Mike's cock, the slick sound of Gio's hand moving up and down, the ragged breaths and moans of both men. I could feel Mike's cock throbbing in my mouth, the veins pulsing with need, and I knew he was close. I pulled back slightly, my lips wrapping around the head, my tongue teasing the sensitive tip.
Gio's hand moved faster, his grip tightening as he stroked Mike, his own breath coming in short gasps. "Fuck, Gio," Mike groaned, his hips bucking up to meet my mouth, his body tensing as he neared the edge.
I could feel the heat of him, the throb of his cock in my mouth, and I knew he was close. The movement sent a jolt of electricity through me, my own cock aching with need as I watched him lose control, his body surrendering to the pleasure I was giving him.
Gio's hand moved faster on Mike's cock, matching the pace of my mouth, his grip tightening as Mike's breath came in short, ragged gasps. I could feel the tension in Mike's body, the way his muscles tightened, the way his hips thrust forward, desperate for release. I pulled back slightly, my lips wrapping around the head of Mike's cock, my tongue teasing the sensitive tip.
"Oh fuck, Gio, I'm gonna...
fuck, Gio, I'm gonna come!" Mike's words were cut off in a ragged gasp as my mouth worked faster, swallowing him deeper, my tongue swirling around the shaft of his cock. I could feel him throbbing in my throat, his body tensing, his breath hitching as he struggled to maintain control. But it was no use. The pleasure building inside him was too intense, too overwhelming.
"Fuck, Gio, it's too much," he groaned, his hands gripping the couch cushions, his knuckles turning white with the effort of holding on. But it was no use. I could feel his body surrendering, his hips bucking up, his cock pulsing as he lost control.
With a low, guttural moan, Mike's body convulsed, his cock throbbing in my mouth as he came.
I swallowed everything, taking him deep, my throat constricting around him as he emptied himself into me. The taste of him was raw and salty, the heat of him scalding my throat as I drank him down, every last drop. Mike's body shook and shivered as he came, his hands gripping the couch cushions so tightly that his knuckles turned white. His breath came in ragged gasps, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm. I held him there, my lips sealed around the base of his cock, my throat working to swallow every last drop of his come. It was a primal, animalistic urge, and I couldn't resist it. I needed to take him all, to consume him completely, to feel the power of his release coursing through my veins.
But as Mike's body began to relax, his breath slowly returning to normal, I felt a sudden, sharp pain in my chest. I gasped, pulling away from him, my lips releasing his cock with a wet pop. I clutched at my chest, my eyes wide with panic as I struggled to catch my breath. What was happening?
Mike blinked, his eyes clouded with confusion and alcohol. "Gio? he slurred, his voice filled with concern as he propped himself up on his elbows, his gaze searching my face.
The moment he saw the expression on my face, his eyes widened in realization. "Oh fuck, Gio, what did we do?" he exclaimed, his voice filled with a mix of horror and disbelief. He scrambled to his feet, his boxers still around his ankles, his body trembling with a sudden burst of adrenaline. "Gio, I-I didn't mean to, I swear. It was the alcohol, the dreams, Lisa's accusations...
I'm so fucking sorry, man. I-I can't... I can't do this," he stammered, his voice shaking with emotion as he quickly pulled up his boxers and grabbed his clothes from the floor, his movements frantic and uncoordinated. He stumbled to the door, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps, his heart clearly pounding in his chest.
With one last, panicked glance at me, he fled, leaving me sitting there, my belly full of his cum, but my heart heavy with worry. The sudden silence after his departure was deafening, the weight of what had just happened hanging heavy in the air.
"Shit," I whispered to myself, my mind racing as I tried to process the events that had just unfolded. I couldn't deny that I had enjoyed every moment of it—the taste of him, the feel of him throbbing in my mouth, the heat of his come rushing down my throat. But now, as I sat there alone, the reality of what had happened began to sink in.
I had just sucked off my best friend, and he had freaked out and run away in a panic.
I stood up from the couch, my body aching with a mix of satisfaction and unease.
I couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that had settled in the pit of my stomach, like a stone. I walked to the kitchen, my footsteps echoing in the empty apartment. As I turned on the tap, I couldn't deny the sense of longing that coursed through me, the taste of Mike still lingering on my tongue.
Just as I was about to rinse my mouth, my phone buzzed with a new message. I picked it up, my heart pounding in my chest as I saw Mike's name on the screen. I quickly swiped to open it, my breath catching in my throat as I read his words: "What happened was a mistake. No one has to know about it, ok? Let's just move on."
I stared at the screen, my mind racing.
