In Part 1 we meet 20-something Brian (still processing an old but nasty break-up with his ex-girlfriend) and his gay friend Mark, as Brian shares a story he's never told anyone.
"Hey Brian, this is Mark. Had to get a new phone, so save this number. Wyd 2nite?"
Do I answer honestly? Do I tell him that I'm laying in bed and furiously jerking it to a black girl and latina finger bang each other? Do gay guys even like to hear about straight dudes beating it off to lesbian porn? Probably not.
I fumble with my phone and try to wipe the pre-cum off of my fingers, but smudge some over the screen.
"Nothin much, u? Wanna chill?"
I glance from my now pornless phone to watch my cock practically jumping up and down off of my belly, leaving a glistening pool of pre-cum left of my navel. Do I finish? I've already jacked off twice today.
"I'm like 5 mins from your house. Let's Netflix and chill."
I scoff. He's joking of course. We'll watch Netflix and smoke. But we've never "chilled" and aren't likely to start now.
"C u soon," I text. My cock isn't stiff anymore so I look around for a towel or a shirt or tissue or something to clean up the precum. No luck. I rub the clear liquid over my stomach. My happy trail soaks up most of it as I stuff my soft cock into my underwear. I throw on my shirt and button my jeans, still tight in the in-seam from a recent wash. I start the dishwasher just as the doorbell rings.
I open the door and
click
! Mark takes a picture of me with his phone.
"New phone. New camera. New me," he says, waving the latest piece of technology in my face. "But old you. Your fly is open," he says, walking past me into my apartment, plopping down on the couch.
I look down to find that indeed my fly is wide open. My black boxer briefs spare the details, but the sheer bulk of my package is on display. I zip up, but the crotch is so tight you can tell my cock is resting to the left. Just another day in my pants.
Mark is someone I never thought I'd be friends with. He's gay, and not that I'm homophobic, but I've never actually hung out with gay people until my girlfriend at the time introduced me to him. She and I haven't been together for six months now, but Mark and I have grown close despite the nasty break-up.
"I've got some green," he says, pulling out a bag of dank buds, "and I figured we should order pizza."
We light up a bowl, order some za's, and shoot the shit while watching a nature documentary. He opines my post-break-up transformation. I finished both tattoo sleeves on my arms and my once messy head of jet black hair is now tightly cropped and carved.
"Yeah I finally got her covered up," I say as Mark squeezes the part of my bicep that once bore a tattoo of Jessica's name.
Mark's touch sends a sensation that I miss. I'm not gay, but it's been so long since I've been touched intimately.
I like my girls with long dark hair-he is blonde and buzzed. I like my girls toned but petite-he has thick arms, broad shoulders, and although he doesn't have a lot of fat, he's not skinny or buff. I like my girls with vaginas and boobs-he has a flat chest and, from having seen him in his skivvies, I can tell he's packing something that is the opposite of a vagina.
After a few slices of pizza, a couple more hits, and a nature documentary about mating animals, Mark turns on some artsy movie.
"I keep thinking about that elephant's penis," Mark laughs. "But what's weirder is that, for the size of our bodies, human's have the largest penis of the animal kingdom."
I'm really high and endlessly giggly, but sober up fast when Mark says, "And yours is definitely one of the largest."
I look down at my crotch, then back at wide-grinned Mark. "It's only seven-and-a-half inches," I say before thinking.
"The average male penis is five-and-a-half inches, so you're doing pretty well. It's got a nice left-leaning upward curve and graceful head."
"How do you know?" I ask, stunned and embarrassed at how well he knows my erect penis.
