I am an ordinary student, a little late on his studies, a little after his 24th birthday. I am gonna go ahead and say that this is going to be a long story, due to its character of being as describing as I can make it be, which is the level of reality.
I always identified publicly as a straight guy, except for four or five people, one of which was the physical proof of me not being one.
The story about him is not a particularly good one; the only thing you gotta keep in mind is that it involved me and him blowing each other a couple of times and one try to step things further. Although he enjoyed blowing and swallowing and letting me do the same, he was not bi-sexual, like me, as I was coming to realize at that time.
So, we could never step things further enough. He could not achieve a decent erection or the excitation to do so, thus the failure. When we discussed more than two times casually that matter, he said he liked my body, but it didn't change the fact that it was a man's body, and that stopped him.
I have an average body, except from the fact that I'm shorter than average, about 5.5ft. However, I am slim even for my height, with narrower-than-I-would-like shoulders, but a good physique, due to my close relationship with the bicycle. I won't claim I am muscular guy, although sometimes I'd like to be. Just fit and generally kinda small.
Although our fiddling around with that friend made me confirm that I was bi and I would like to bottom some time in my life, it also gave me a lust of doing so. I had a relationship with a girl since, and my sex life was rewarding.
But a parallel self was waking up a little when I was, as everyone else is, sometimes, looking at my naked body in the mirror, and he wanted me to turn and bend a little, expose my ass a little bit and see how I look bent over against absolutely nothing.
I would sometimes turn the wardrobe door so the full body mirror would reflect my bed, and I would get on all fours, just to see how I would look like getting ready for someone to enter me.
I would watch gay porn sometimes and clench my butt in yearning. The percentage of the times masturbating to gay porn were increasing steadily, until they became over eight in ten.
I would try ass play with lubricant and different objects with condoms, but they were too rough. Too cold to be mistaken for an actual cock.
I would wander how it would feel if a heavy, male body was over me, against me, thrusting the way my girlfriend liked me doing.
Nevertheless, about one year passed with me just fantasizing about the matter. After the first time I achieved an anal orgasm without touching my cock, I knew I had to feel it. Sometime around then, my relationship ended due to non-sexual causes, but my freedom to try this side of my nature had made my going on slightly easier.
I played drums for a band at the time. The singer, a very close friend, was the one I had the biggest share of time with, with beers and the occasional joint. Go ahead and get him off the sexual picture, this was my dude, and nothing sexual was going on, ever.
Jacob is 30 years old, about 29 then, but nothing held him back from rolling a joint with me and having a laugh or two.
He had no idea about me being bi, though. I wasn't embarrassed by it, I just didn't look forward to saying it.
After all this prologue, and if you're still with me, the story begins on one summer afternoon, when he called me to ask me if I wanted to hang around. After my affirmation, a second phone call came from him with the question many people's good stories start from: "Could I call Will over?"
"Who's Will?"
"An old buddy of mine. I've told you about him, the one who slept on the wheel. The field?"
"Ok, yeah, I remember. Ok."
"Be there in a bit."
So, I was on my pc when I heard the knock on the door. And in came Jacob, accompanied by a guy taller than me and also Jacob, who was a full head height higher than me. He was big, but with a kind, bearded face. At that time these two were the only things I noticed when I shook his hand and told him my name. I had met many guys, and getting them through my "would-or-wouldn't-get-fucked-from" filter was not an interesting procedure as none had been gay, or at least that I could say of.
So we sat, got some music on, and off went the first joint after the first half an hour. After the next hour, I started noticing things, and not due to any substance. I noticed the way his look lingered onto mine a little bit. I decided to check if this was what I thought it was.
"Guys, sorry for the sexy show." I said sarcastically getting up, "but it's too fucking hot in here." and got my shorts off, as I usually did with casual friends' company at my place.
The trick worked. There were two times my eyes caught his glance, for a moment, at my crotch. After the last one, he noticed that I saw, but didn't look away from my eyes.
My heart started pounding on my chest a little bit. My play was becoming real.
After three hours, the clock was reading 23:16 and Jacob told us he was gonna head off. This was a normal time, since he worked in the morning.
Although, my mind was on one thing: The possibility of this becoming even more real. And within that minute, when he turned to Will, I caught up to him and said to Will "You can stay if you want. We can finish this up." and I looked to the half burnt joint on the ashtray.
Will looked at Jacob and hesitated. Fuck. This was getting real.