Story
Joey and I were roommates in college for a few years. We got close through the years as we belonged to a men's group which was about personal growth and sharing experiences. So beyond the typical, "we're in school together going through mid-terms, finals, projects, etc.," we got closer than I did with most of my friends in college.
I had a break from school and Joey offered to give me a ride home to just outside Pittsburgh, where my family is and where he was going to visit a girl he'd dated in school and had since re-located. I was so fucking stoked to get home and see my girlfriend. Myra had a great fucking body, with nice, round, large tits that were firm and totally fuckable. I'd blown so many loads on her tits, neck and face and couldn't wait to get home and do it again. She also had such a nice, tiny, fuckable ass and a sweet, sweet pussy that I ate every night I was home. But, I digress...
It was getting late as we were driving - the total drive would take about 6 hours. Joey and I were just talking most of the time, about school, about our families, about our fathers, etc., etc. We shared a humungous laugh over the time he barged into my room while Myra was visiting, and she was on the floor sucking my cock to her heart's content. Fucking hysterical; he closed the door and got out as soon as he'd come in, but I think both Myra and I were turned on by having someone watch us...more on that later.
Anyway, Joey gets to telling me how much he appreciates our friendship, what a good roommate I am, how open and understanding I am of how he chooses to live his life. Joey had previously disclosed to me that he was bi-sexual and while I personally couldn't wrap my head around it, I didn't care. He wants to go fuck chicks one night and suck dick the next, so be it. He had plenty of "guests" in our apartment of both sexes, which really was baffling, but whatever, he had fun. I got my fair share of chicks in school; my girlfriend didn't ask - she was smart that way, just like I didn't ask about what she did while I was gone. In any event, Joey was just expressing his gratitude at how I accepted him for who he was.
I said, "Dude, we're friends; we're more than friends, we're like brothers. We've helped each other a lot and your friendship means a lot to me, OK? I also really appreciate you giving me a ride."
"Well, Marty," he says, "I appreciate the brother comment, but don't want to make this any weird than it might already be."
"What?"
"You know, Marty, I didn't want to give you a ride back home just to give you a ride. I wanted to run something by you and see what you think."
"OK, what is it?"
It's starting to get very uneasy in the van at this point. I'm thinking he's going to ask me to borrow some money (which he'd done before and had become a sore point in our friendship, but he paid me back and blah blah blah...), or tell me he's dropping out of school, or some other bullshit.
Joey continues, "Well, I just wanted to really express to you my appreciation for your understanding who I am, what I do and who I do it with, you know?"
"Yeah, I know," I said. I'm wondering why he's hanging on this point.
"Can I have a cigarette?" I ask him, as I had been bumming from him the whole ride.
"Yes, of course you can," Joey says, "can I suck your cock?"
"What?!"
"Can I suck your cock?" he repeats, so nonchalantly.
"How can you ask that with the same tone and level of aplomb with which I asked you for a cigarette?" I ask him a little angrily. "I mean what the fuck? Why would you think you can just say, 'Hey, let me suck your cock?' and I'd be game for it?"
"Listen," Joey starts to explain...He's real timid at first, but I get the impression he's been working on this for a while. "Listen, you are clearly an attractive guy (I'm 5'10, 180lbs., lean in good shape, with light brown moppish hair and green eyes, he's shorter, much thinner, with curly brown hair that goes just below his shoulders), I saw your fuckin' hammer (8" circumcised, and I keep the hair to a bare minimum) when Myra was blowing' you that one day and I mean it when I say I want to express to you my appreciation. I want to show you how much I appreciate your acceptance of me and your understanding of my lifestyle by sucking your cock until you come...down my throat, on my face, in my hands, however you'd like to do it."
I'm pretty fucking angry at this point. "What the fuck makes you think I'm gay, or that I'd like you to suck my cock?" I ask, glaring at him.
"I know you wouldn't. To be honest, that's what makes it so fucking hot for me."
"Oh, well I'm so glad it'd be hot for you, but who gives a shit about how weird it'd be for me, huh?"
"That's not what I mean, Marty," he says, and I can tell he had an answer for this already. "How well does Myra suck your cock?"
"That's none of your fucking business and this is going a long way towards this fucking conversation ending VERY quickly."
"Come on, dude, tell me, how is she...on a scale of 1 to 10?"
"I don't know I'd give her about a 7, maybe an 8."
"OK," Joey asks, "what about any and every other girl you've ever gotten a blowjob from, how good were they? Any of them reach a 10 on your scale?"
Now that he mentioned it, I can't say I've ever really gotten a fully, mind-blowing blow job; not from any of my girlfriends, nor any of the various other women I'd dated or slept with over the years. Some were good, got it nice and hard and sucked really hard; others got it nice and slobbery; some could take all 8 inches all the way down their throat, but that was about it - once they got it there, they didn't know what to do. I couldn't think of a single woman - Myra included - who I'd been with that combined suction, saliva, deep-throating talent that made my eyes roll to the back of my head.
"Well," I finally respond to him, "maybe not, but so what? What does that matter?"
"The only thing that matters is that I can do it," Joey triumphantly declares. "I can suck your cock, slobber all over your balls (I have a pretty big sack, again trimmed hair very short), I can take your cock all the way to the back of my throat while sucking really hard on your wet, slobbery cock completely covered in my saliva. I can choke down your choad and swallow your fucking jizz while simultaneously massaging your cock with my throat muscles. I will suck and lick your balls, get them all wet and slobbery soaking with my saliva...I'll tongue your asshole if you want me to, I will do it all! You will NOT have to do a single thing to me. You don't have to look at me, you can close your eyes and pretend I'm a chick, you can call me Myra or Nancy or Suzie, whatever the fuck you want to call me," he proudly declares.
"Can I call you my cock-sucking little faggot?" I ask. Then I stop; I don't know where the fuck that question came from. It's as if I was so caught up in his description of a truly unbelievable blowjob that I was sold. I'm NOT sold, but what the fuck just happened? Where did that come from? I'm not fucking gay and I'm not into some dude sucking my cock, so why would I actually WANT to call this guy a cock-sucking faggot?
"Yes, you can call me whatever you'd like...and you don't have to feel ashamed about it, either," he tells me. It's as if he's reading my thoughts and can tell how very uneasy I am about this, but he can also tell - like a fox hunting its prey - that I'm now seriously thinking about this. "Look, Marty, I just want to make you comfortable about this. We don't have to do this here and now - although we can pull over whenever you want. We can do this when we get back to school; we can do this sometime over the break if you'd like to meet up. We can never do this if you're not really comfortable with it."
I ask him simply "Why?"
