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Chapter 3: Couch Time

The jokes didn't stop when we sat back down. They got worse, which I should have predicted. Tyler was the one who kept them going, riffing on the timeline, doing the math out loud on how long we'd been gone versus how long a normal bathroom trip takes. Mark was laughing too hard to add much. Derek just kept shaking his head with this expression on his face like he was genuinely concerned for me. No one actually thought we did anything wrong, but we were just the target of ribbing at the moment and this particular joke had a little staying power.

My ears were hot. I could feel it working its way down my neck, and I knew from experience that my face was turning cherry red. I kept my eyes on the TV and said nothing, which was the wrong strategy because saying nothing reads to guys as confirmation, which only fueled them further.

Grant was quiet through most of it, which I noticed. He had his phone out and was half scrolling, unbothered, and every few seconds he'd smile at something Tyler said without looking up. Then Tyler made a joke that was a little too specific, something about the acoustics of small bathrooms, and the group leaned into it, and I felt my jaw tighten.

Grant looked up from his phone.

"Mark," he said, casually, like he was changing the subject to something he'd just remembered. "What's going on with that?"

He nodded downward. Mark looked down at his own lap, and we all looked and saw that he was tenting a random boner. He looked back up and rolled his eyes.

"Shut up," Mark said.

"I'm just asking," Grant said.

Mark grabbed a hoodie and bunched it up on his lap, but we all knew by now that he had a non-subtle boner. Even after Grant had jerked off in front of all of us, it was still funny when a friend got a boner, because he was embarrassed by it, compared to Grant who literally didn’t give a fuck. Mark moved the hoodie, trying to lean into the joke, and since he was wearing thin gray sweatpants, the outline of his junk was clear, pointing straight up toward his waistband and to the left a bit toward the pocket. It was thick enough that it was doing real work against the fabric, and we could all see the circumcised head.

"I've been like this for an hour," Mark said, sounding genuinely aggrieved about it. "The porn didn't help."

"None of us are judging," Tyler said, reaching somewhere beside the couch and randomly coming back with a wooden ruler, the kind with the metal strip down the middle. He leaned across the space between them and poked Mark's tented sweatpants with the end of it, once, firmly.

"Stop," Mark said, but he was laughing. "You're just making it bigger."

Tyler poked it again. Mark batted the ruler away without much conviction.

"How big is it?" I asked.

The room went quiet for a second, not awkward exactly, just everyone kind of reacting to what I had asked, and Mark looked at me with a half smile, slightly amused.

He thought about it genuinely.

"Not as big as Grant," he said finally.

"Obviously," Tyler said. "Nobody is as big as Grant. One of us has to be second place though."

"I wonder who that is," Derek said.

My dick had been slowly inflating the whole time we talked about dicks, and it quickly returned to boner status when he said that. A slow pull of warmth that started low under my balls spread upward in anticipation. I pressed my thighs together under the pretense of shifting position and said nothing and waited to see where this went with them.

It went where I thought it was going.

Tyler stood up first, which seemed natural with his bold demeanor. He undid his shorts and pushed them down his thighs and stood there trying to seem unphased. Tyler was lean, long-limbed, with pale Irish skin that flushed easily. He was blushing with half of his body, exposing his lack of nonchalance, and he was already three quarters hard and pointing up and to the left with a slight upward curve. I was noticing things like that for the first time. He was a decent size, longer than me, not as big as Grant.

He started to rub himself, looking down at his meat as it swelled up further, and Mark stood up next to him. Even if neither compared to Grant exactly, there was a notable contrast between their meat rods. Mark’s body was less slender than Tyler, shorter by three inches with broader shoulders and a fuller build, dark hair and olive skin that didn't flush the way Tyler's did. His meat was thicker than Tyler's but shorter, and the two of them standing side by side holding themselves was an immediately memorable image for me.

"Okay," Tyler said, looking down at both of them. "That's close."

"I have more girth," Mark said.

"I’m longer," Tyler said.

They both looked at me at the same time.

"You're the tiebreaker," Tyler said.

I stood up. I was hard enough that there wasn't much to hide and no real point in doing so at this point anyway, so I got my shorts down and joined them and the three of us pointed our dicks toward each other in a small circle, while Derek and Grant watched quietly, studying the comparison curiously.

We stood there in Tyler's basement doing something that I would have told you a year earlier I would never in my life be making. 

And I was somewhere in the middle. Not embarrassing, just clearly not the story of the night.

“I guess we’re all about average then,” Mark said.

Grant watched from the couch with his arms crossed and said nothing.

Derek hadn't moved.

"You're not getting up?" Tyler asked him.

"I can't," Derek said. He was sitting forward with his elbows on his knees, and he spread his hands to indicate the general problem. "It doesn't work like that for me. In front of guys. I'd need like, a girl. Even with porn I couldn’t get hard in front of you guys."

Derek was the tallest of us, long and narrow through the body with darker skin, being mixed ethnicity, and close-cropped hair, and I had been aware of his lap on and off all evening without being able to read much through his joggers. But I knew I had seen movement, even if he hadn’t gone full mast. He'd stayed mostly soft during the whole Grant incident, or at least soft enough that I couldn't tell.

Something inside me drove me to step out of my passive role. Maybe I was hyped up on the bathroom and the buffet of dick in front of me, but most of all it was hormones.

"I could make you hard," I said, looking at him in the eye.

Tyler looked at me. Mark looked at me. Grant looked up from his phone.

Nobody said anything for a second, and I felt the familiar heat in my ears again, but I didn't take it back.

Derek just raised his eyebrows.

"I'll blow you," I said. "I've done it before."

The room detonated. Tyler made a loud guffaw, like a laugh mixed with a hiccup as he keeled over a bit, his body flinching in shock. Mark covered his mouth with both hands, his hard dick still pointing into the air in front of him, and his shoulders shook. Even Grant, who had stayed composed through most of the night, looked up with genuine surprise on his face, and not at the admission specifically, but at the fact that I'd just said it out loud in front of everyone without being pushed into it.

Derek had not laughed. He was still sitting forward with his elbows on his knees, looking at me with a sort of blank expression.

"See, I still don't think it would work," he said. 

He stood up and pushed his joggers down and stood there half hard and demonstrably skeptical, holding himself in his hand like he was presenting evidence. 

"I'm not wired that way."

His dick was long and darker red than anyone else, longer than Tyler, with a specific heaviness to it, even half hard that made me understand why he'd been difficult to read through his joggers all night.

"A mouth is a mouth," Tyler said, from somewhere behind me.

"I guess," Mark said.

I got on my knees.

The tile floor was hard under me and the room went very quiet. I looked up at Derek from where I was, and his expression finally seemed a little excited, if still a little scared. He was trying not to show that he was already more interested than he'd said he was. His jaw was set and his eyes were on me and his body was ahead of his face by about ten seconds.

I opened my mouth and pulled him in by the hips, his long thighs coming toward my face, and I took him in past my lips, and went to work.

"What the," someone said above me. I kept my eyes closed.

I found my rhythm faster than I had with Grant, muscle memory from forty minutes ago and a more manageable dick size in my mouth helped. I developed a particular focus from kneeling on a hard floor in front of someone while four other people watched. Derek was different from Grant in every dimension, more angled, hitting different parts of my mouth, a different taste.

"Oh shit," Derek said as his dick started to wake up in my mouth. His voice had changed completely, the skepticism gone out of it. "Ok yeah, It's working."

"I cannot believe you're letting him do that," Mark said.

"Dude," was all Derek said back, as he placed a hand gently on the back of my head, following my movements.

"I want to try," Tyler said. "I've never had a BJ at all."

"Really," Mark said. "I have."

"Must be nice," Tyler said, and his hand joined Derek’s on the back of my head, his fingers moving through my hair, not pushing yet, just there.

"He's good," Derek said, above me. "Better than my girlfriend, honestly. She has no idea what she's doing."

"Guys really do give better head," Mark said, in the tone of having changed his mind.

“Tell me about it,” Grant said.

Tyler's voice squeaked out a quick, “Wait, what?”

“He blew me in the bathroom.”

“No wayyyyyy,” I heard two guys say above me in unison.

Then, apparently,Tyler got impatient. He pulled me off Derek by the shoulder and I turned and took him in, keeping a hand on Derek’s pole while I felt Tyler’s whole body shiver the second the warmth hit him, a full-body thing that started in his hips and ran up his back, his muscles relaxing, and I felt it through my hands on his thighs. He lasted about a minute before he suddenly spilled into me without warning. I froze when I felt it come out, and his hand on the back of my head went from gentle to firm to very firm in the space of a couple seconds, and then he finished with his hips pushed forward and his breath coming out in one long exhale, and I swallowed and turned my mouth quickly back to Derek.

I reached up and took Mark's dick in my hand, pulling it slowly while Mark let me. After only a few seconds of nursing Derek’s pole, I wanted to try another new one. 

Mark was standing close while I held his thick meat in my hand, and when I took him in I understood immediately what he meant about girth. He filled my mouth differently than the others, wider across, and I had to adjust. His hand went to my hair too, looser than Tyler's, more exploratory.

I stopped thinking about comparisons somewhere in the middle of it. Each one was just itself, its own weight and shape and temperature, the specific person attached to it coming through in how they moved and where their hands went and what sounds they made. Derek was quiet and still and let me do the work. Mark made small sounds and moved his hips slowly. Tyler, when I went back to him for the second time, put both hands on my head and was much less patient than the first round.

They moved to the couch at some point without discussing it, settling in a row, and I moved with them on my knees across the carpet, going from one to the next, and Grant slid off the arm of the couch and sat down at the end of the row without saying anything, and that was that.

Mark finished on my face with one hand gripping my hair, holding my face back while I stuck out my tongue, trying fruitlessly to get back onto his cock, but apparently he wanted to paint my face, and I had to let him. It was warm and sudden, and while I was still catching my breath I felt Grant's hands on my hips from behind, pulling me back slightly, adjusting my position, his thumbs pressing into my bubbly butt and pullilng me open to look at my hole, his thumbs exploring closer as he massaged me. He was just holding me like that, for now. His grip was different from everyone else's, like he had a plan.

I took Tyler’s load in my mouth for the second time while I jerked myself off, and felt Grant's hands moving on my ass, slow and curious. Just as I jizzed out onto the floor, his voice came from behind me, low enough that it was mostly just for me.

"Woah," he said. "It's like, pulsing."

I didn't answer. I had my mouth full and my knees were sore and my throat was raw and my face was a mess and I was more present in my body than I had ever been in my life.

Grant kept his hands where they were. I could feel him back there, still hard, pressed against me, not moving yet, just thinking.

"If a mouth is a mouth," he said, his thumbs pressing in slightly, "does that mean an ass is an ass?"