How Can It Feel This Good?

Dave woke slowly, his head feeling like it was being repetitively struck with a sledgehammer in time with his pulse. He licked his lips, trying to make his mouth at least a little less like the Sahara desert. Trying to gather his bearings, he realised he was naked and on the couch, and his arse was a bit sore. At least I took a shit last night, he thought, so I won't have to do a grog bog this morning. He couldn't remember why he was naked. He couldn't remember nearly anything about the previous night for that matter. He knew Steve had come over, and they'd been drinking, but last that he was at a loss.

He looked around for Steve, but he wasn't around. He saw his own clothes on the floor, and figured he must've gotten too hot and stripped in his drunken stupor. His first thought was to be embarrassed, because Steve was gay, and stripping naked in front of a gay man was a bit weird, even if he was his best friend. But he put it aside as Steve likely wouldn't care as they were both drinking.

Dave got up slowly and staggered over to the fridge to get a drink. After downing half a bottle of water, he walked back to the couch and sat down, his hangover making him feel a bit queasy. He picked up his boxer shorts to put them on, but realised there was a cum stain smeared over them. What the hell? he thought. Did I have a wet dream? I haven't had one since I was a teenager. Maybe that's why I slept naked, he figured.

He went to his room to get dressed, calling out to Steve, but there was no answer. After getting dressed, which wasn't easy due to his crushing headache and still tender arse (must've been an epic dump, Dave thought), he wandered around seeing if Steve was passed out somewhere, but he wasn't anywhere. Finding his phone, he found a message from Steve: hey man I had to run I'll talk to you later had a great night :)

Over the next few hours, Dave tried to do what he could to get rid of his hangover, but nothing worked. Feeling like shit the whole day left him severely fatigued, so he went to bed around 9pm that night.

****

Waking as if he'd been screamed at, Dave sat upright, breathing heavily. He'd been dreaming, and he could still see the images of his dream vividly. Images of Steve rubbing his cock, images of Steve blowing him, images of Steve fucking his arse until he made Dave spurt cum all over his own stomach. The dream was troubling enough, but what had Dave really troubled was that his dick was hard, and that the dream didn't feel like a normal dream. It felt like a *memory*.

Dave turned so his was sitting on the edge of the bed, thoughts running through his head. Could it possibly be a memory? He wasn't gay, but he had gotten more drunk than he'd been in a long time. And there was the fact he had a sore arse the day after. But no, it couldn't be. Steve had never shown the slightest interest in Dave in that way, ever. But Steve had been drinking too... No. It couldn't have happened. It must've just been a very realistic dream.

He felt a bit embarrassed at himself that he was hard over having a gay dream, but it was not something he had any control over. He rolled over and tried to get some sleep, but he tossed and turn all night, waking the next morning not satisfied at all.

Dave had another day off work today, so he slept in a little bit, before getting up and making his breakfast. He was watching the morning news, when all of a sudden he remembered the dream from last night. Images of Steve standing over him while arse fucking him filled his vision, and it didn't take long for his cock to swell and grow to full hardness. Shocked at his reaction, he tried to block out the thoughts, but the harder he tried the harder he got, as if the taboo of it was fueling the fire. Curiosity got to him, and he closed his eyes and focused on the thoughts, and he started to get extremely aroused. Shaking his head, he forced the images away and got back to the news, embarrassed at himself once again. His boner went away, but he was still horny.

He finished his toast, then went over to the computer and started looking at porn. He found a lesbian one he often watched, pulled out his dick and started jerking off, but now that he was thinking about sex, the dream started coming back. With his thoughts split between the dream and the porn, he couldn't focus and his dick started going soft, so he tried to focus on the two girls strapon fucking, but he went the other way and saw Steve's lips wrapped around the base of his cock, and his boner returned nearly instantly. He didn't want to think about gay things whole masturbating, but he was so horny he just wanted to finish, so he closed his eyes and imagined Steve's tongue swirling around the head of his dick. That plus the moans from the computer quickly brought him to climax, and he bucked as he came. Cleaning up the mess, he felt ashamed. He'd never had a gay thought before, and now he had just jerked off to the memory of his friend sucking his dick. Wait, memory? No, dream. It couldn't be a memory. Could it? It felt so real, but Dave didn't want to be true.

Pacing in his loungeroom, he had to talk to Steve. But what would I say? he thought. Hey Steve, how's things? You know how we were drinking Friday? Yeah, uh, did we have gay buttsex? He laughed at the absurdity. He'd have to just make it up as he went along. Picking up his phone, he sent Steve a message. "Hey man, what's going on? You get that stuff sorted yesterday?" A few minutes went by before he got a reply.

Yeah mate. Nothing's happening now, you?

Nah, nothing doing over here. Just thinking about Friday night.

Oh yeah? Wanna repeat or something huh ;)

Dave went bug eyed. Steve couldn't possibly mean what Dave was thinking he meant. Or maybe he could. Dave had to ask something, he was taking too long to respond. "Repeat of what? I can't really remember anything. All I know is you came over. I must've gotten completely hammered, because the entire night is a blank, and yesterday was the worst hangover I've had in a hell of a long time"

You don't remember any of it?

By now, Dave wasn't sure if he was lying or not, but he felt guilty all the same. But nothing could make him ask if they'd had sex. If the answer was no, he would look like a complete idiot. And if the answer was yes... "Nah not at all"

There was a lull for a few minutes, then a reply. "You busy tonight? I'm free the rest of today and it's my shout for drinks"

Dave realised the fact that Steve hasn't answered the question, but he assumed he would get one. He sent over an acceptance saying he would be over later, but then instant he pressed send he had a thought. What if he didn't answer because it's news you deliver in person? What if it really did happen and he wants to do it again? The instant that question passed through his mind he felt his dick start to grow again, to his horror. Again? Why is this turning me on? He tried to recall the dream/memory to see if he had liked it, whether it was the feeling or the idea that was getting him hot, but there was nothing there. It had to be the idea, he thought in shame, I had jerked off to it before. The more he thought about it, the more he came to accept it. The idea of having sex with Steve aroused him.

Dave shook his head to clear his mind. He decided to take a show to clear it better. He walked into the bathroom and ran the water while he got undressed. Jumping in when the water was the right temperature, he quickly washed himself, then stood there, thinking about everything.

He closed his eyes and recalled the image of Steve fucking his arse, and he soon became erect. So it does turn me on, he thought. But how much? Do I want to do it again? That he couldn't answer. Is this something I want to think about when masturbating? He decided to put it to the test, even though he'd jerked off recently. He locked his thoughts on Steve fucking him, while he lathered up his hands with soap and ran them up and down his shaft. It wasn't long before his breathing became heavy, as the thoughts of being fucked by Steve were making him insanely horny. He quickly stopped, his cock bouncing at the sudden lack of attention. He opened his eyes, and thought it he was going to test this, he was going to do it right.

He turned off the shower, got out and hurriedly dried himself, his dick hard the whole time. Despite being nervous about what he might learn about himself, he was excited. He wrapped the towel around himself and walked to the kitchen, grabbing a fork. He ran his fingers along the smooth handle, thinking to himself that this would have to do. He didn't exactly have any dildos lying around the house.

Walking into the bedroom, he dropped the towel, then paused as he tried to think how he was going to do this. He walked over to the bed, lifted the mattress, and placed the fork in the frame, dropping the mattress back on top of it. Now the handle of the fork was poking out, partly kept in place by the weight of the mattress.

He got on his knees, and pulled some lube from the bedside table. First lubing up the handle, then the tip of his finger, he turned around so his arse was pointing at the bed, then reached around and started rubbing his bud, working the lube into it. Applying gentle pressure, he slowly pushed his finger into his arse, and started fingering himself. It felt odd. Not good, but not gross or painful. Once he was satisfied he was lubed up enough, he removed his finger and positioned himself, pushing his arse back to the protruding handle. He found he barely had to push, as it went it easily.

The first thing he realised was that it felt lovely. Not good enough that he thought it would make him cum, in fact it wasn't even making him hard, but it felt very nice. The smoothness of the handle combined with the lube meant the handle was gliding in and out as he fucked himself on it, and he decided that he would have to do this again.

He kept it up for a few minutes, and eventually his breathing become heavier and he got hornier the more he kept it up, but the feeling never got better, and he never managed to get hard. He tried changing the angle, depth, speed, but nothing he did would make it feel any better than 'very nice'. He even tried imaging he was fucking himself on Steve's cock, which quickly sprung his own cock into action, but still the feeling didn't get any better. All it was succeeding in doing was making him more and more horny. He realised if he was going to cum he'd have to jerk off.

The instant his hand wrapped around his shaft he knew this wank was going to be amazing. Apparently the handle in his arse made his dick a lot more sensitive to touch. He started pulling his dick, and it only took a few seconds before he could feel his orgasm rising. He started grunting uncontrollably, and as he was he could feel his arse spasming around the handle, and the amazing feeling of it increased how good his hand felt on his dick. The whole time he was imagining he was being fucked by Steve and getting a reacharound, and it drove him over the edge.

He tried to hold back so he could keep going, but nothing was stopping this orgasm. He cried out as he shot cum out in front of him in thick ropes, his arse pulsating as his entire body jerked in short bursts, causing uncontrollable fucking on the handle. After what felt like ages, his orgasm subsided, and he slowly pulled himself away from the bed, the lay down on the floor to catch his breath. He'd never vocalised any time he'd masturbated before, but this time he'd nearly screamed it was so good. This passes the test, he thought. I want Steve to fuck my arse. He still wasn't sure if it had happened, but he was leaning towards yes. Whether it did or it didn't, he wanted Steve's cock in his arse. He wanted it so badly, he would gladly accept it right now, even though he'd just cum.

After recovering, he cleaned up his mess, got dressed, and washed the fork. He looked at the clock, and realised he still had a few hours before leaving for Steve's. He went into the lounge to watch tv until it was time to leave.

****

Dave walked out to his car, sending Steve a text as he was walking letting him know he was on his way. On the drive over, he got 3 separate erections thinking about the possibilities on what the night might bring. But when he pulled up outside Steve's house, he was suddenly struck with panic. He had been thinking there was a good to fair chance he might get to have sex with Steve, but what if they hadn't done it on Friday? What if something completely different had happened. What if Steve merely meant getting drunk when he sent that winky text? He wanted it to happen, but he could not bear the thought of having to ask Steve if they had had sex, and he definitely couldn't ask for it to happen 'again'. He decided he would let the night play out as normal, and if the situation came up he would do it, but he would not ask.

Walking inside, he called out to Steve. "In the kitchen!" He walked through to find Steve doing the dishes. "Hey man, just gimme a sec while I finish these up. Beers are in the fridge"

"No worries". Dave grabbed a pair and plonked one in front of Steve. "What'd you have to do yesterday morning?"

"Oh, just some shit for work."

"Fair enough." Dave quickly relaxed as he chatted with Steve, and the two soon moved into the lounge where they talked shit, watched tv and sank beers. Dave had actually forgotten that he was waiting for Steve's answer on what happened Friday, but then it popped into his mind, so he asked. "So yeah, Friday night. Fuck actually happened? I still can't remember and you made it seem like we did something" he said, as subtle as he possibly could.

A tiny grin that Dave only just barely noticed crossed Steve's face, and he said "oh, you uh, you twanged you leg so I gave you a rub down. It turned into a full body massage"

He may have been about to say something, but Dave interjected quickly as he was beginning to feel the effects of the booze. "Ohhhh, so that's what you meant when you asked if I wanted if I wanted a repeat?"

"Uh...yeah. You seemed to enjoy it on Friday".

"Ahhh, see, cos it's been bugging me all weekend. Couldn't remember shit." Dave both relaxed and stiffened at the same time. They hadn't had sex, so that weird feeling wasn't there, and Steve was still just his mate, but now he had no chance of it happening for real. He finished his beer and went to get more, passing one to Steve as he sat back down. "So uh, is the offer still open? I'm not sore at all so it ain't one of those rub downs, but I ain't gonna say no to a full body massage.

"Sure, why not. I got my table here too so it'll be a lot easier than your couch." Steve led the way to his weight room, where a massage table lay waiting for them. "Righto, get your kit off, face down". Dave normally would've hesitated, but his drunkenness and desire for this to become sexual caused him to strip naked without protest. He could feel his cock behind to swell, so he quickly hopped onto the table, and it was only then he noticed there were two holes: one for his face, and he guessed one for his privates. "Never seen one with a hole for a fella's bits before".

"Yeah, I actually got it done like that on purpose, cos some guys get hard during a massage and it's a bit painful lying on a boner." Steve replied, then added "you got one yourself the other night."

Dave ignored this as he was quite embarrassed, but he didn't have to ignore it for long before he felt Steve's hands on his bare back. The rubbing and kneading felt great, and he was actually starting to remember getting massaged on Friday. He guessed because the same thing was happening, it triggered the memory. Only difference was this time Steve was using massage oil. After a few minutes, Steve moved down to his legs, and began working his calves, before moving up to his thighs.

Dave sighed. He was relaxed as hell, but he had a nagging disappointment his fantasy would not become reality. Probably for the best, he thought. It would definitely make things weird between us. He felt Steve's hands move up to his arse cheeks and begin kneading them. As much as he liked it, he was surprised that he hadn't actually gotten hard during the entire massage. He supposed it was due to knowing nothing would happen. With Steve's oily hands running all over his backside, oil beg and to run down between his crack, making his hole feel slightly itchy. He squirmed to try and relieve it, but it just made it worse, as while squirming he had lifted his bum a bit, spreading his cheeks just enough for the oil to completely run into the crack. He heard Steve clear his throat. "Uh, Dave, you know how how I said on Friday that I have you a massage, and you asked that's what I meant when I asked if you wanted a repeat? Uh, that wasn't actually what I meant." Dave was paying extreme attention. He knew what Steve was about to say, but he managed to croak out "uh, what did you mean then?"

"Well, we uh, we kinda did something else. See, you were kinda enjoying the massage a lot, and we were both pretty fucken hammered, so I um..."

He was about to continue when Dave blurted out "we had sex, didn't we?" He screwed up his face in shame. He had not meant to blurt that out, because if the answer was no he would never live it down.

"Uhh, yeah. We did." Dave's eyes went wide. It did happen! he thought. It could happen again! The possibility of his fantasy happening caused an instant erection through the hole in the table. He wanted to say something, to reassure Steve that he wasn't upset, and that he did want to take him up on the offer, but he couldn't find the words, but he thanked the gods when Steve continued. "So...yeah, that was what I meant when I asked if you wanted a repeat. You loved it when it happened, but then you said you forgot and I didn't know how to tell you. I hope this doesn't change things, I'm still your mate, we've just...fucked."

Dave summoned every ounce of willpower he had and tried to say something, but all he could manage was a quiet "yes". His heart was beating so hard it was almost hurting.

"Yes what? Yes this changes things, yes we're still cool? Or yes you want a repeat?"

"Uh, I um..." Dave stammered, trying to force the words out, but no matter how much he wanted it, no matter how much Steve seemed to be ok with it, he simply could not say out loud he wanted to have gay sex. He didn't have to fight with his shame for very long, because he felt Steve's hand slide into the crack of his arse and start rubbing his hole, causing an involuntary sigh. "Is this what you mean by yes?"

Dave could only mumble out a "mhmm" and a slight nod, but that was all Steve needed. He pushed a finger into Dave's arse and reached under the table to cup and fondle his dangling balls, eliciting a soft moan.

Dave was beside himself with happiness. It's really happening! No fantasy he'd ever had had been wanted as much as this one, and it was coming true. He was so horny, he could already feel his balls tightening in anticipation of his orgasm. The finger in his arse felt much better than the handle had, and Steve's hand on his balls were absolutely devine. Steve let go of his balls, causing Dave to thrust into the table in an effort to get closer to the absent fingers, but then he felt those fingers wrap around his rock hard cock and start jacking him off. It was less than a minute before he started bucking on the table, essentially fucking himself with Steve's hands both in front and behind him. He cried out as his climax tore through his body.

He lay there catching his breath as Steve pulled his finger out and continue massaging his arse. He didn't know what to do now. He'd cum, so was that it? That was how it usually went anytime he'd had sex with a woman. He'd get them off as much as he could, but once he was done, the sex was done. Did he have to get Steve off? He hadn't considered that. He wasn't really sure if he wanted to. He loved Steve making him cum, but that was because it felt so amazing. He still wasn't gay; he wasn't attracted to him or anything, so he didn't know if he'd be able to reciprocate. It was only fair though, he thought. It can't really hurt to at least try.