It was a bit before midnight, and I hadn't moved from the bed. The man that had been the center of my sexual fantasies the last several months had finally given me what I had asked for, his cock. I had worn him down with alcohol, appreciation, and raised his horniness to the point where we just gave into my whims. I wouldn't feel guilty about this until much later in life. But at that moment, I was delirious from the afterglow of the hottest sex I had ever had in my young life.
He had left me to my devices and left my room. As I lay there, I knew that I wanted more. I thought he had gone to bed, and wasn't sure if I would have another chance tonight. It wasn't until I heard the freezer close, that I knew he was awake.
I got up, didn't bother to dress, and walked out to the kitchen, still clad in my jockstrap, the black pouch still dried with my cum from earlier. The light above the stove was one, shrouding the living room in stark shadows. I saw him over the island in the middle leaning against the counter. His smooth chest lit up in the small light, but I could see that his nipples were hard. Dressed in only a pair of brief underwear, a nice bulge in the front, still soft, he nursed yet another drink.
"Hey." I said as casually as I could.
He jumped a bit, his gaze following me like a deer in the headlights. I tried to play it cool, and opened the fridge to grab a Diet Coke from inside. I cracked it and took a sip. I moved over to stand opposite him and leaned against the opposite counter.
"You couldn't sleep either?" I asked.
He looked away from my gaze and took a sip of his drink. "I did for about an hour. Woke up thirsty."
"Yeah, I did too. Still a bit worn out." I threw back at him, watching his reaction. He didn't say anything, just took a sip. So I tried to engage again. "Would it be too much if I asked for a bit more?"
He jumped a bit as if I had electrocuted him and he stared at me. "More of what?"
"Your alcohol. I kind of want to maintain my buzz, if you're okay with that." I said and smiled at him.
I watched him take a breath and point toward the cupboard across the kitchen where he kept his booze. I walked over to the wooden cupboard, looked inside to see it on the bottom shelf. "Down here?" I asked to get him to look at me, and when he did, I bent over at the waist. I felt the cool air of the apartment on my hole and knew he saw what he had just been inside earlier that evening.
I grabbed the bottle, stood, and went to get a glass. I spent a minute or so, pouring a glass with about half Jack Daniels and half diet coke. If I was going to drink, I was going to take advantage of more than one thing tonight.
I turned back to the man of my lustful dreams, and handed him the bottle as his glass looked empty. "You won't let me drink alone, right?" I asked and winked at him.
He stared at the bottle. It seemed to me as if he was debating whether or not he wanted to stay in here with me, the boy he had fucked hard and raw only a couple hours ago. Finally, he said, "Only if you put on pants."
I countered back. "You're in your underwear."
He thought about it for a moment and shrugged. Grabbing the bottle from me, he headed into the living room and took a seat on the couch. The living room was dark, the blinds were drawn, and the only light was coming from the light over the stove, giving just enough light to see where one was going. I followed him and sat near him, but not directly next to him. I knew what I wanted, but I was hoping I knew how to bide my time.
He sat the bottle on the glass coffee table, sat back on the couch, one leg crossed up over his other. I sat on the couch, one leg tucked under the other, my body facing him. I took a sip of my Jack and diet, and looked at him.
The silence was uncomfortable, though most of that came from the man in front of me. The man who just a couple hours ago poured his pent up load into my barely used, almost virgin hole.
"Just tell me I wasn't your first." He said, his voice quiet in the dark room. "I don't think I could handle that."
"You were not. My third though, and by far the best." I said. "I'd messed around with a couple buddies from school before this, several months ago, before I asked my brother to get me the dildo for practice. It had hurt a lot back then, so I wanted to get used to the feeling of having a dick inside me."
He nodded as if this wasn't an awkward conversation. The liquor in my soda warmed me from head to toe, and it definitely had an effect on my lips and what came out of them.
"I just don't get why you'd want to pick me." He said, beating a dead horse with this phrase. "Like, I understand that you find me attractive, for whatever reason, but why would you push it like that?"
The liquor in me kept me from feeling the guilt that would plague me several years later when I thought back to this first night, this first encounter. I did take the time to sort my now alcohol addled thoughts to try and form a good enough answer.
"Honestly?" I said and looked at him. "I might not have pushed it like I had, had you not caught me. But then after we ate, I tried something and left my door cracked, and I saw you in my doorway, watching me, long enough that it wasn't just a passing glance." I took a chance and placed my free hand on his leg that was crossed. He didn't flinch. "That was why I went for it, because I figured I might succeed."
He didn't push my hand away, so we sat in another short silence, staring at one another. I sipped my drink when he sipped his. My hand gently, almost lovingly, stroked his calf.
Our drinks finished about the same time, and I jumped up. I motioned for him to wait on the couch. I went to the kitchen, grabbed a couple sodas, and returned to him. He put both our glasses together and poured a rather heavy pour into both from the almost empty Jack bottle, topped both glasses with our respective sodas, and sat back on the couch.
