For the days following the blowjob I had received from Marc, I could hardly think of anything else. As I drifted off to sleep the night it had happened, I found myself replaying the whole scene in my head, and becoming very aroused. I jerked off thinking about Marc's strong hands caressing my chest, him pinching my nipples, and taking my cock into his mouth. I woke up the next morning still thinking about it, wondering what it meant. Was it just a one-time thing? Should I devote less mental energy to it? Maybe it was just a blowjob, an experiment, however successful.
Marc, on the other hand, made it seem like nothing had happened. What had occurred between us went unacknowledged when I saw him the next day, making breakfast in the kitchen. He gave me a cheerful "good morning!" but then proceeded to drink his coffee and browse the news on his phone. After a few minutes, he said "Well, time's wasting. Got lots of appointments today. See you later, man." And with that, he grabbed his work bag and headed out the door.
I dawdled over the rest of my breakfast, trying to read the news, but not really paying much attention. I was still processing the Event that had happened the prior day. After a while, I decided it was time to put it out of my mind and get to work.
The morning at work passed pretty uneventfully. Meetings, calls, emails. More meetings, more calls, and an endless string of emails. Luckily, the mindless process of work was sufficiently distracting, and it was 1:30 before my friend Carole stopped by my desk.
"Nick, want to grab a late lunch?"
"Hey Carole! Definitely. Where were you thinking?"
"Anywhere's fine. I just need to get out of here for a while."
Carole is my work wife. We started at the company around the same time and became fast friends. We usually ate lunch together a few times a week, and often met up for drinks after work. Carole is perpetually single and likes to bitch about it, but she's pretty attractive and hooks up with different guys on occasion. Carole is also hilarious. She never holds back her opinion. She's quick to call you on your bullshit. During my divorce, it was great to have Carole around to tell me to stop moping so much. But she was also super supportive and understanding.
We walked outside our building. It was a perfect Los Angeles day, about 75 degrees with a light breeze and sunny. We headed for a Mexican place a few blocks away. It was our usual go-to spot because we could order daytime beers there, and no one from our office really went there.
We made small talk about work on our walk to the restaurant, but I was preoccupied. Carole could sense that something was off. She called me out immediately after we were seated.
"Nick - what's going on with you? Clearly something is on your mind."
"No, it's nothing. Just been feeling a little...distracted today. I'm all good."
"Bullshit. Something is bugging you, and I know it. Now, either snap out of it, or tell me what's on your mind. I've known you long enough to tell when something is weighing on you."
And before I knew it, I was spilling the entire tale to Carole. I told her about moving into a new apartment with a gay roommate. I told her how what had begun as an innocent massage escalated really quickly into me receiving the best blow job of my life. I told her how Marc had caressed my torso, and how he played with my nipples, how he had kissed me and how I felt with his strong arms around me, how I was like putty in his strong, masculine hands, how unbelievably erotic the whole situation was. I told her how I hadn't been able to stop thinking about it since it happened, and how it had really scrambled my self perception as a straight guy. I probably talked uninterrupted for ten minutes as I related the entire story.
Carole's mouth hung open in an expression of complete shock.
"Nick...that's really not what I had been expecting you to tell me. I thought you were gonna tell me that you had money troubles, or you were sad about your ex wife. Not that you'd been blown by a hot guy and that you were now considering becoming gay." She smirked.
"I'm not considering becoming gay!" I snapped. Some of the nearby diners turned and looked over their shoulder as I said this. I lowered my voice.
"Nick, It's OK. If this is something that you feel like you need to explore, you should go for it. It's nothing to be embarrassed about. Cock is great, I love it too! If you want my honest opinion, here it is: you're a recently divorced guy who's in moderately good shape, but who doesn't really have any dating prospects right now. Right?"
"Right," I conceded.
"Through sheer luck, you've found yourself living with a hot guy who finds you attractive, and who has basically told you that he's willing to give you mind-blowing oral sex whenever you want it. You need to not look a gift whore in the mouth, so to speak, and just use that whore's mouth. You NEED to explore this. It may mean that you discover that you're bisexual, or even fully gay, and that's OK too. It's 2022, for fuck's sake."
Carole then fixed me with a stern look, which indicated that she wasn't fucking around.
"At the VERY least, you need to repay Marc the favor, and suck his dick."