Grant Turned Me Gay in High School (Patreon)

Everyone is 18+ and fully consenting.

There were five of us in Tyler's basement on a Friday night with nowhere to be and nothing happening, no school tomorrow. Friday nights back then were the best. It felt like there was an infinite time to fuck around, two whole days. Me, Tyler, Grant, Derek, and Mark were sprawled out across two couches, with snacks and sodas strewn across a big coffee table that separated us from the huge TV on the wall. It was over seventy-five inches, and the biggest one any of us had. We'd been friends long enough that nobody needed to fill every silence. The TV was on with the sound really high, just exercising a little of our freedom and being a tiny bit outrageous, but nobody was really watching. Someone had brought chips. The bag was open on the floor and getting passed around less and less as the evening went on.

Tyler had his computer open on his lap and was doing the thing where he pretended to look something up. We'd seen this before. He made a show of squinting at the screen, tilting it slightly, and then there was a girl on screen with her shirt off.

"What is this," Derek said.

"Research," Tyler quietly.

Tyler fast forwarded the video, and it was a standard production. A girl with enormous tits getting pounded from behind by a sizably hung dude who clearly enjoyed the gym. The two actors were very committed to their work, as noted by the loud moans and groans that threatened to ruin our good time if any of his family upstairs heard it. The camera angle left nothing unclear, mostly zoomed in straight to the action. Tyler suddenly cast the video to the TV, replacing what was playing, and our virgin eyes were blasted with hardcore porn, just as a second guy entered the video on the other end of the girl.

“Ah, gay,” Mark said, pretending to be disgusted. 

“It’s hot,” Grant commented, almost to himself. “She can take two, that’s the dream.”

“I wouldn’t share,” Mark said.

“I would,” Grant said, his eyes on the screen, his hand on the growing bulge of his crotch.

We all started laughing, suddenly nervous that we would be walked in on by some family member of Tyler’s. None of us were new to porn, it was just kind of wild to be so bold. Nobody really protested too much, like no one wanted to be the buzz kill, and I could see that my friends were generally getting a decent physical response, same as me. We all had some blood flow going on downstairs, and we were fidgeting in our seats, just like Tyler had intended. We watched it for a while, commenting just enough to maintain the fiction that we weren’t turned on by it.

Grant was the one who broke the ice. He had his legs stretched out in front of him, arms crossed, and he uncrossed his arms, groped his crotch like he was adjusting himself and said, "This is actually working for me."

We laughed. The girl on screen made a loud gagging noise. We laughed harder. Mark threw a chip at Grant and Grant caught it and ate it.

"Just take care of it if you want," Tyler said. The tone was a joke. Seventy percent a joke. The other thirty percent was quiet and curious about what happened next.

Surprising all of us, Grant actually reached for his zipper.

The room recalibrated in real time, everyone shifting their weight at once in a mix of panic and slight curiosity. Tyler made a sound that started as a laugh and didn't finish as one. Derek looked at the ceiling and then back down. Mark said "bro" and then didn't follow it with anything.

I didn't look away.

Grant pulled himself free and I noticed immediately that it was not going to be a normal night with the boys. He was already mostly hard, which meant this had been building for a minute before he said anything. And he was bigger than I'd been imagining, which meant I had been imagining it without even realizing it. I'd seen guys before. Locker rooms, whatever, the incidental exposure of spending time around other males. But soft and hard are different categories entirely, and Grant hard was a bigger piece of meat than I had seen in person at the time. It wasn’t inhumanly large, but he was miles ahead of me in the category. It was thick and flushed, already darkening toward pink, heavy-looking. I had a feeling in my chest before I even registered in my head what I was looking at.

“How big are you?” Tyler asked, apparently noticing the same thing as me, even if his feelings about it seemed more casual.

“Seven inches,” Grant said, “Unless I’ve grown a bit. Maybe almost eight.”

“Damn,” Tyler replied. “Bigger than me.”

“Me too,” Mark and I said in unison, making us chuckle.

The self-consciousness arrived first. My brain was making a comparison out of my control.

Then he started rubbing it, aiming it right in the air, rubbing the whole length of it with one hand while the other rested on his thigh next to him, his eyes focused on the screen. Someone would laugh and it would taper off and we'd all just be sitting there watching, and then someone would say something and the laughter would come back. Grant didn’t seem to care at all, just laughing along when we laughed, and focusing hard in between. The dude needed a nut. His demeanor somehow made it more disorienting. He worked slowly with the one hand, not performing for us, just taking care of business, eyes directed at the screen.

The woman in the video was loud. The room was louder, in intervals. Then the room went quiet again and it was just the sound of porn and the specific sound of friction on Grant’s dick.

One of the dudes on the screen pulled out of her and moaned, spraying a load, making us laugh and make indecipherable comments. Grant suddenly stood up, exhaled hard and went still.

“Woah… it’s like, thicker than before,” Tyler said in a surprised tone.

I gulped, my mouth dry, my erection straining painfully in my pants. I wished I had the gaul that Grant did, but I just squeezed myself over my pants, trying to lessen the strain of a hormonal male boner that wasn’t getting the attention it needed.

Out of the corner of my eye I could tell everyone was having a similar problem, but my eyes were zeroed in on Grant and his dong. His body twitched almost imperceptibly at random points, and his pants dropped down to mid thigh. His taut butt cheeks were tensed, then they released, then tensed again as the guys giggled and he focused on the TV.

It happened fast once it started. Grant closed his eyes while his mouth fell open. He gripped himself near the head with his whole hand, knuckles going pale, squeezing like he was choking it, and his whole body locked up. The vein along the side was visible from where I was sitting and I watched it swell once, distinctly, and then he looked down at himself, releasing a quick exhale that sounded like it was forced out of him just as a thick white rope shot out and hit the coffee table loud enough that you heard it land.

Everyone lost it immediately. Grant included. He was laughing before he was finished, milking himself through the last of it with his hips rocking slightly, chasing every bit. 

The smell hit me, and I almost came in my pants. I didn’t even think about why the scenario was doing what it did to me, but I knew it was the most exciting sexual experience of my life so far, even if it was just dudes hanging out. Maybe porn was the thing that was missing when friends hung out.

Then Grant wiggled his hips and waved the whole thing around in the air, still mostly hard, showing off because he knew he had something worth showing off, swinging it around basically in my face while I sat there on the end of the couch closest to him.

A drop flew off and landed on my cheek.

I felt it land. It was warm, and wet. It was objectively a nasty thing, but in the excitement I almost relished the sensation of it on me, the one small, specific spot on my cheek where it landed sent a tingle up the side of my face. I knew what it was before I processed it. Everyone's attention was still on Grant, who had started saying something to Tyler about technique, and nobody saw it happen.

I reached up and wiped it with my index finger. I didn't say anything. I just looked at what was on my finger.

It looked like mine. Same color, same basic consistency, which was an obvious fact that landed differently as a real thing in front of me versus a theoretical one, seeing another guy’s production. 

No one watched me except Grant, as I pressed my thumb against my index finger and pulled them apart slowly, feeling the pull between them, the thin strand that stretched and broke. The smell reached me then, close and salt-warm, and it was familiar in a way that made my stomach do something I didn't name.

I rolled it slightly between my fingers.

Grant looked closely at me, while the other guys were all chattering among themselves, hyped up on the frenzy that Grant had sparked, paying no attention to either of us.

His eyes went to my hand and then to my face, a nervous smile spreading on his lips.

Everyone else was still on him or on each other, still laughing about Grant, and subsequent jokes that had taken on a life of their own, that I couldn’t focus on at all.. And in the middle of that Grant was just watching me with his jaw where it normally was and his eyes a little more focused than usual.

I don't know exactly what made me do it. For a few minutes, maybe longer, I was fighting the urge to do something. Grant had sparked it in me, from somewhere deep inside. But he was looking at me and the stuff was on my finger and the intrusive thought had been sitting there waiting for permission and I decided to let it have what it wanted.

I held his eye contact. I brought my finger up slowly and let my tongue touch it first, just barely, tasting the salt and underneath the salt a bitter male essence, something with a little more weight to it, something I recognized from the smell of my own, but from a different angle. It was distinct, specific, not bad.

Then I pushed my finger slowly past my lips and closed my mouth around it and pulled it out clean, tongue running across the pad of my finger, getting all of it.

Grant's jaw dropped.

I looked back at the TV. And Grant just sat next to me, closer than usual, his leg touching mine, pulling out his phone. I got the subtle idea that the night was just starting. The pizza hadn’t even come yet.

The woman on screen was groaning, saying she was “about to cum” over and over. It had lost meaning at this point, and it didn’t seem like anyone else was planning to jerk it for a show. Mark took the remote and switched it back to apple TV, browsing the lists for something to watch, quickly choosing a random show and putting it on. The room was almost normal again. I sat with my hands in my lap and my heart beating faster than normal, and the taste still in my mouth, just a faint trace now, at the back of my tongue.