Honesty Or Nothing

I wasn't surprised by how small his cock was, but I was a little surprised when his hot jizz shot onto my face the second my lips touched his tip. I guess I should've expected it, in hindsight.

My best friend had always been a runt. He was roughly my size from kindergarten all the way up through our college years, and when all his male friends hit puberty and grew into men he was still only a little taller than me and - also like me - thin as a rail.

I made fun of him for it exactly once, joking that he could fit into my clothes. He hid the pain behind an agreeable chuckle, but I saw it for a second and never poked that sore spot again. He didn't get along well with other men, but his frailty made it hard for him to get along with most women too. He interpreted anything less than constant enthusiasm as a sign that they didn't like him, and so he never asked anyone out, never dated, and for the most part I was his only friend.

So it was normal for him to apply to all the same colleges as me. Normal for us to go halvsies on an apartment as soon as I broke away from my dad's influence and made my own way in the world. Normal for him to be there when I brought a guy home. But we weren't kids anymore. The first time he was ever seriously honest with me - really genuine - was the day after he'd heard me through the wall of my room moaning and begging as I got railed by some guy I barely remember.

He remembered.

The next night, after work, he just said it out of the blue while we were folding laundry. "I heard you last night."

The pause was too long, we both knew what he meant, but I said "heard me what?" just to be sure.

"You know, having sex."

"Oh." I went back to folding. "Sorry, I'll try to be quieter next time?" I didn't know if that was really a solution.

"No, I..." He sighed. "I don't want to ruin your fun, I just would like some warning so I can leave. You know, it's just a little awkward" he laughed, but again, I could see the pain behind the grin.

"You're hurt by it." I was done with the bullshit. "Is that because you want to have sex in general, or because you don't want anyone else touching me?"

His smile disappeared instantly. He was slouching comfortably before, but soon straightened and frowned. I rarely saw him like this, brow furrowed, tense, almost ready for war. Normally he was the softest little thing, thick black ruffled hair and cute dimples, smiles and positivity. But just then, for a moment, he looked angry.

"I don't know what I feel. It hurt, I don't know why, okay?" His fist clenched. "Of course I want to have sex but with you it's... it's more." He looked away. An open window made the chirping of crickets and the whirring of cars on a nearby highway the only sounds in the room as we sat motionless. My stomach filled with anxiety. "Maybe I just really need to get laid," He finally continued, "but maybe sex is just another fucking chore like eating, sleeping, peeing. I don't want it, I don't want any of it."

"But you want me." Our eyes met.

He nodded, ever so slightly.

"So why haven't you ever asked me out?"

He gave me a frown, and I thought maybe he was actually disappointed in me for not knowing the answer to that, which pissed me off. "If you love someone, you want what's best for them... I'm not what's best for anyone." His voice cracked and broke my heart.

"You're an idiot." I said plainly, and scooted over to him, my pajama pants making sliding on the hardwood easy. He locked up, motionless, as I leaned over to kiss his lips. They were as soft as they looked. My hand cradled his cheek and after a second his arms wrapped around me. I leaned into him, easily pushing him back to lay on the ground, and broke the kiss just long enough to grab the half-folded shirt on his lap and throw it out of my way.

I started kissing all over his face, his nose, his lips again, his eyebrow. I could feel his breath catch when my tongue slipped out to caress his bottom lip. It occurred to me that this was a lot, so I broke away and sat up.

"Let's start over... How about you ask me out, I say yes because you're awesome, then we go have some fun somewhere together and try to develop a healthy relationship?" I planted one more little kiss on him with a giggle.

"Will you go out with me?" He was so handsome when he smiled, but his eyes were still full of worry.

"Of course! You're awesome. So what do you want to do?"

He paused. The silence was killing me as it grew and grew.

"If we're going to be together I need you to be fucking honest with me, okay?"

"Okay."

"Then what do you want?"

"I... don't know. I want you. I love you."

I sighed. I was worried this would happen. "If you've been fantasizing about being with me all these years, and didn't say anything..."

"Well you didn't say anything either."

"I wasn't fantasizing."

"So you don't want this? I'm confused."

"No, listen, this is new, you can't just say you love me like that after two seconds of kissing. I know you love me, I love you too, but we've only been friends up 'till now. Whatever fantasy version of me you've fallen in love with, that wasn't me, I wasn't there, okay? I'm here - really here - now, so we've got to do this the same way we would with strangers, one step at a time."

"Okay well, you said to be honest..." His hand was still on my inner thigh, awkwardly just resting there. "I think that's nonsense." He sounded mildly outraged, which was unusual for him. "We're not strangers. I adjust our grocery list based on your menstrual cycle. I love you."

"I love you, too." I said, then smirked. "If that's how it's going to be, tell me about your fantasies of us." I rolled off of him and sat up, pulling my shoulder-length black hair back into a braid and using the scrunchy around my wrist to tie it back.

He reached for me, put his hand back on my thigh, squeezing ever so slightly.

I looked at his hand, giving it a pointed stare, then flashed him a lewd grin. "Are you sure that wouldn't be a chore?"

His other hand reached forward to grab me by the hip, and I scooted over to him and melted into him, resting my head on his shoulder with my chin upturned so I could kiss his neck while he groped me in that way that inexperienced men always do, as if they're scared to actually grab a handful of ass but fighting the instinct poorly.

"I'm sure."

"I promise if it becomes a chore for you, I can live without it. But for now, I wasn't kidding - you don't get to have a totally one-sided experience with me anymore, tell me your fantasies. All of them."

He gulped. "I mean, that's a lot."

"I'm a lot. Tell me."

"Like, sex stuff?"

"Anything."

"I guess I've dreamt it all up. Growing old together, finally getting you to play video games with me, anal..." He cracked up laughing, and I did too.

"Wow straight to anal, huh? You don't even want a blowjob first?"

He gulped again.

I could see the meager tent he was pitching and reached over to touch it. He shuddered. "Wow, sensitive?"

"Yeah..."

"Let me help." I unzipped his pants and slid my fingers under the hem of his boxers before he could react, pulling down enough that his cock popped out. He lifted his butt off the floor enough to get them down more, but not all the way.

He was pretty small, I wasn't surprised, but I was surprised he was clean shaven. "Do you always shave?"

"I... don't really grow much hair."

I guess it was natural. I could already smell precum on him as I leaned over. I laid on my belly with my breasts on his thigh and my feet up in the air behind me as I cupped his balls and leaned down to kiss the soft skin at the base of his shaft. My fingerpads slid along his shaft a few times, I looked up at him and he was wincing, clearly trying to hold everything in. I licked my lips and kissed his shaft, pressing in enough that his cock was smushed against my nose too as I slid up towards his tip. I took a deep breath and enjoyed his familiar scent - though I'd never been this close to it - and let every little vein and bump in his shaft engrain into my memory.

As I reached his tip, he mumbled "fuck you're so perfect" and came, and that's where our story started.

It was a big load. Hot, sticky, thick as any I've had, shot out with enough force that some got in my mouth but most of it was on my nose and cheeks and forehead. After the first shot I instinctively slipped his tip into my mouth and sucked, pumping his shaft with my hand and twisting my mouth left and right to maximize his pleasure. He shot again, this time fully into my mouth, and his fists hit the floor hard. I think every muscle in his body tightened judging by the way his leg rocked against my bosom and sent my head bobbing, but that tension melted away quickly. I heard his breath intake hard and then soften as I slurped his cum down.

I plopped him out of my mouth and kissed his shaft a few more times for good measure, but by then the cum was getting dribbley so I got up and went to the restroom real quick to wash my face.

About ten minutes later I came back and he was still laying there, looking out the window, but his pants were back up. "Did you... did you clean up?"

"No, sorry I-"

I interrupted with "no worries, it's okay."

"Sorry I-"

Again I interrupted, I really didn't want to let him apologize for being human. "Don't. You're fine, I loved that, okay?"

He looked at me. "Really?"

"Yes, forget whatever you think you know. Honesty, right? With me it's trust or nothing, got it?"

"Right. Got it."

"So about that anal..." I slipped my pajama pants down and turned around, knowing he had a good look at my ass when I started walking - slowly - towards the bedroom, lifting my left hand over my shoulder to beckon him with a curled finger.

---

Within a few months of having regular sex with me, he'd grown used to me, and became an incredible lover. Always very giving, and empathetic enough that sometimes I felt like he could read my mind.

I lost him to a car accident two years ago. I'm very glad that I had that time with him, and still angry with him when I think about how much more time we would have had together if he hadn't been too scared to tell me how he felt.

So this is your PSA: Life is so stupid, we can't afford to be. Like someone? Take the chance.