What Happens on Elm Street...

I've lived on Elm Street my entire life. The thick trees in front yard gave the street it's name a hundred years ago. My name's David, I just turned 18. Dark blonde hair, 6'2", chocolate brown eyes, and tanned skin from a summer spent on the beach, in the water, and on the field. Through my junior year of school, I played football in the fall, basketball in the winter, and track and baseball in the spring. This year, I'm taking it easy. There are far more important things to focus on.

Jason's my next door neighbor, and my best friend. He turned eighteen over the summer. We've done everything together since we were still in grade school. His hair's dark, and thicker than mine, and he's got blue eyes. He's not quite as cut as I am, and he's only about 6 feet, but the kid's got potential.

Jason's the same way, and that's part of the reason we get along so well. There's no competition, but we both score an adequate number of times. Sex makes school worthwhile. It was my goal to someday nail one of my teachers, right there on the desk where they sit. Now that's a turn-on.

I'd never consider myself gay, but I've seen hot guys. Guys I'd love to nail, and let them nail me. Jason was gorgeus, and I'm cocky enough to admit I'm no slouch in that department either. Light blue eyes, long lashes, straight brown hair. Jason was alright.

And more than once, I've seen him eyeing me, in something other than a best friend way. In the way that one man looks at another, and appraises. I wanted to see how far I could take that.

We were hanging around in Jason's room, one day after school. Jason had thrown some music on, some rock stuff, and we were just chilling. His computer was running, though neither of us was on it. On my way to the bathroom, I bumped into him. Accidentally, of course. And when I went to hand him a magazine I was done with, my hand ran along his wrist perhaps a moment more than was decent.

The look was in his eye, I could see it. "Y'ever fuck another guy?" I ask, breaking the silence.

"What?" There's fear in his gaze. "I'm not gay, dude." Anger tries to hide the fear. "I'm not some kind of fucking fag."

"What's wrong with fucking another guy? Does that make you gay? If I grabbed your dick right now, would that make me gay?" I pushed my luck, I reached forward, and placed my hand against his chest. His heart beat erratically against my skin.

"Do you want to fuck me, Jason?" I whisper huskily. "Do you want me to rip off your clothes and do to you what you've done to how many girls? Do you want my big dick rammed up your asshole, thrusting in and out, god it's so hard, until it comes, shooting my spunk all over?"

"Do you want that, Jason?" My voice grows hoarse with passion. Rather than touching him, I touch myself. Run my fingers along my chest, down my stomach, barely touch against my cock.

He's scared. He whispers, "I'm not gay." There's no force in his voice. He's mine.

"Does this make me gay," I whispered, running my hand alongside his jaw. Jason flinched, pulling back. I pushed forward. "Or this?" I ran my fingers down along the contours of his shirt, pulling the taut fabric up, exposing the trail of hair leading from his belly button down into the roughness of his jean shorts. My fingers trailed up his burning skin, until they ran up the hill of muscle, and found the bulging nipple. I pulled at it, leaning forward to breath in his ear. His breathing had quickened, his eyes closed.

"How's this?" I asked, running my free hand through his hair. The hand that explored his skin slid back down from underneath his shirt, covering him once again. Instead, my teeth gently grazed his earlobe. His skin smelled of soap and a hint of masculine sweat. I had him sweating enough even now, teasing his body.

"Does this make me gay," I breath, my voice growing serious, as my fingers stroll down his chest, descend past his stomach, and meet at the button of his shorts. I pretended to fumble with them, causing his breath to catch. I smiled.

"I'm sure this does," I manage to unbutton his pants, and pull them down, around his ankles. The crisp, dark hairs on his legs are standing at attention almost as well as the package waiting for me. I run my fingers over his black boxers, feeling the stiffness within. The trail of hairs from his stomach disappear into the boxers, and so I follow the trail.

Slowly, ever so slowly, I remove the boxers, freeing Jason's impressive cock. All our lives, we've been equal. I grew a little taller, and ended up with a better build. Jason got smarter. But our cocks. Both were around eight inches, and just thick enough. It had been some time since I had seen his cock, but I wasted no more time introducing myself.

His cock tasted like iron, and throbbed in my mouth. I was sure if I looked down, I would see the saliva from my mouth drying upon it. Jason moaned, his head thrashing backwards. My tongue caressed the tip, the fat head that had invaded so many clits. "Oh god," he grunted, looking up.

I pushed myself forward, crossing a line even further than placing my mouth upon my best friend's cock. His lips were open, his breathing was rough, and I pressed forward, embracing him, and thrusting my tongue down his throat.

He was startled at first, but quickly responded, as interested as I was. Impatiently, he started pulling my shirt upwards, and we broke the kiss. I discarded my shirt onto the floor, and looked at him. "A fuck is a fuck, doesn't matter with who it is, so long as you get laid. If we both enjoy it, no harm done. Doesn't make either of us gay."

The last constraint seemed to be lifted from him, and Jason and I fell onto the bed. We discarded the last of our clothes, and it wasn't until I fetched the lube from my bag (of course I came prepared) that either of us stopped.

"Fuck me," he begged, his eyes wide as he stared upon my cock. It felt nearly incestuous, to place the crown of my cock against the asshole of my best friend. We had shared all things, and this was only one more. I pushed, and suddenly my cock was consumed by his tightness.

"Christ," I muttered, pressing in slowly. Jason's breathing had grown quicker, his skin slick to the touch. I hadn't thought his cock could get any harder, but I was wrong. "You're so fucking tight." Later, I would tell him it had been my first time with another guy, too.

I began pumping in and out of him, thrusting my hard cock into his hole. My balls slapped against his ass, and I fucked him. He started exhaling in rhythm with my thrusts, as though I was forcing all the air out of him, rapid breaths like those of a dog. He moaned, and I leaned forward, moving his legs to either side of me, and kissed him.

I could feel the cum burning its way up, and I quickened my thrusts, literally slamming my cock into his ass. He began grunting, sounds which would have been 'fuck me' if he could have been vocal. And then I came, and I pushed my cock as far into his ass as I could. Blast after blast shot forth, lining the walls of his asshole with my cum. Jason's hands reached down to his own cock, and he began jerking quickly, coming only moments later.

Bushed, I pulled out, collapsing next to him. "God," I smiled, laying my head down on his shoulder. "We should do that more often."