My Friend and I Learned On Each Other 02: Accidental Gay Party (Patreon)

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My Friend and I Learned On Each Other

Chapter 2: Accidental Gay Party

The living room was packed and every single person in it was a guy. Guys on the couch, guys dancing, two guys grinding on each other next to the speaker, and at the far end of the couch a dude sat sideways across another dude's lap with a hand up his shirt. Red string lights hung over the doorway to the basement stairs. A guy in a mesh tank top walked past with a bottle of tequila, squeezed my shoulder, and said, "Oh my god, the freshmen came."

Brayden leaned into my ear. "Bro."

"Yeah."

"Where are the girls?"

"I don't think there are any girls here, Pip."

We planted ourselves against the wall by the kitchen with the drinks somebody had pushed into our hands, and the group chat started replaying in my head, every message meaning something different now. A chat that was only dudes. Nobody had ever once mentioned a girl. "Everyone will be getting a nut, guaranteed," with a dozen likes under it. And they had added us out of nowhere, third week of school, two guys they barely knew.

"The chat," Brayden said quietly.

"Yep."

"There were never gonna be girls."

"Nope."

Trey found us again and draped an arm over each of us. "Boys. Talk to me. You look lost."

"We thought..." I started.

"That there'd be girls here?" He laughed hard, right from the gut. "Why would we invite girls?"

"Why would you invite us?" Brayden said.

"Bro." Trey looked back and forth between us with genuine confusion. "You two have been at every party on the hall and neither of you has talked to one girl. Ever. You leave early. Together. Every time. Half the floor assumed you were already dating."

The mesh tank guy drifted over with the tequila. "Also you're both, like, objectively hot," he said. "Him especially." He pointed the bottle at Brayden. "Little baby-faced monster. We've been talking about you two in the chat for a week."

In my head I thought, more dudes have called me hot in one minute than girls have in my entire life.

"We're not gay," I said.

"We're straight," Brayden said.

"Okay," Trey said, stretching the word out to about four syllables. The mesh guy took a pull off his bottle and looked at us over it.

"We're gonna head out," I said, and I put my drink on the counter, and Brayden set his next to mine, and we made it maybe four steps toward the door.

"Wait, wait, wait." Trey slid in front of us with both hands up. "My bad. Nobody's gonna weird you out, I promise. Stay. Free drinks. One question though." He looked at my head, then at Brayden's. "Why do you both have wet hair?"

"We showered," Brayden said.

"At nine at night. Both of you."

"We were running late. Sharing the shower saved time."

The mesh guy made a noise into his bottle like he was drowning. Trey kept his face almost straight. "Sure. And why is your boy standing like that? And rubbing his ass?"

Everybody looked at me. I suddenly realized I had been holding my ass since we walked in. It was crazy that they could decipher all that just from these clues. They must have been grasping at straws.

Unless they saw something in us that we were blind to.

I had my weight shifted onto one hip, self-conscious about it, but unable to hold still with the soreness in my body. I re-positioned the stance of my ass, and straightened up too fast, which, combined with our awkward silence, was a confirmation of sorts.

"I pulled something at the gym," I said.

"Right," Trey said. "That sucks, man. Have a massage."

"It was my groin," I said quickly, trying to shut down the massage idea, and quickly realizing my error.

Trey raised an eyebrow. The silence stretched maybe three seconds, and then Brayden, the certified freak, the guy who could not leave anything unsaid once someone asked him directly, exhaled and quit on our whole defense at once.

"Okay, whatever. We fucked before we came here."

The kitchen erupted. The mesh guy screamed. Somebody in the living room who couldn't have heard any context cheered anyway, just part of the party. Trey grabbed his own head with both hands.

"It was practice," I said, over the noise, like that would fix it. "For girls. We're practicing on each other. No homo."

That made it worse. Or better, depending on who you asked. The mesh guy had to set the tequila down on the counter so he could bend over and slap his knee. A couple more guys crowded into the kitchen doorway to find out what the screaming was about, and Trey gave them the whole update in one quick, gay sentence, and then they were around us too, and everybody had something to say.

"That's the cutest shit I've ever heard in my life."

"Practicing. For girls. Bro, I used that one in high school."

"Straight roommates fucking in week three. You guys don't waste time."

"Which one of you..." the mesh guy started, and pointed the bottle back and forth between us, and Brayden pointed at me, and I felt my whole face heat up, and the kitchen lost it again.

But the strange part was that none of it felt like getting laughed at. Trey refilled the drinks we had abandoned and put them back in our hands. Somebody said we were the best thing to come out of the freshman class. Another guy said we had some competition among some of the hairless "twinks" downstairs. 

The mesh guy put a hand on each of our shoulders and told us, with the sincerity of a man three tequilas deep, that this was a safe house, that nobody would touch us if we didn't want it, and that if we did want it, there was a basement, and we could do absolutely whatever we wanted down there.

"Whatever you want," Trey repeated.

"Could I..." Brayden started, then closed his mouth.

"Yes," the mesh guy said. 

Brayden and I looked at each other. He had that half-giggle building at the corner of his mouth, the same one from the first night when I asked him to whip it out, and I could feel my sore ass and my heartbeat at the same time.

"You ready for more practice, then?" he said.

"No... homo," I said, hiccuping between the words.

····[]····

The stairs down were narrow, and the air got warmer and more humid with every step, and the music changed from the upstairs club music to more of a deep bass techno with repetitive melody. It had a pulse in it. Then the room opened up in front of us and I stopped on the bottom stair.

From the first look at it, it was clear that the basement was a den of sin. There was gay porn playing on several TVs at eye level around the room. Mattresses lined half the walls. Couches sat with their cushions dragged half off, and red bulbs screwed into the ceiling fixtures made everybody's skin look airbrushed. On the nearest mattress a guy rode another guy with his head hung back and his hands braced behind him on the dude's thighs. On the couch past them, two dudes had a third guy that I recognized from my hall stretched out between them, one working his dick into the guy's mouth and one gripping his hips from behind, and they pushed his body back and forth between them. 

In the open middle of the floor, six or seven guys stood in a loose circle stroking themselves and looking down at each other's bodies, some of them naked and some wearing underwear or pants pulled partially down. It was like a sports huddle, except every hand was on a dick, and while I stood there watching, another freshman I recognized from the dining hall ducked under an arm, stepped into the center of the circle, got down on his knees, and opened his mouth with his eyes closed. Two of the guys shuffled in closer without breaking their rhythm, and aimed their dicks at his face as he stuck out his tongue.

Another dude who looked like a small freshman, was blindfolded on his back on the couch, jerking off his big dick furiously, while two other guys each rubbed a bare foot on his face, while he sniffed and licked what he could reach.

The whole vibe reminded me, weirdly, of my bedroom in high school. Males satisfying every pleasure they could conceive of with zero shame. Except it was gay. No titties glowing on any of the screens. 

In my head I thought, at least I'm getting my dick pleasured some more tonight. And a part of me wanted to make these guys like me, as weird as that sounds. Even if they were super gay, they were older and jacked, and they were still "cool", and I wanted to be somebody they invited back.

We didn't get to stand there long. A group of athletic, mostly naked dudes peeled away from the couches and came for us smiling, and hands closed around my wrists while a different set of hands took Brayden by the shoulders, and we were pulled apart in two different directions. I looked back once. Somebody hooked his thumbs into Brayden's waistband and dragged his pants down to his knees, exposing his hairless little ass to the whole basement, and a head moved in front of his hips, and Brayden's mouth dropped open.

I gulped. Two upperclassmen had me by then, one on each arm, big dudes, a tank top and a bare chest, and they guided me into a dark corner behind the stairs. One of them kissed the left side of my neck while the other kissed the right, both mouths working at the same time, and goosebumps ran down both of my arms. Their hands moved down my chest, over my stomach, onto the front of my pants, and I was fully hard before either of them even squeezed.

"Relax, freshman," one of them said into my ear.

I gulped, and closed my eyes as I let the good feelings happen. My shirt came up over my head. My pants dropped, somebody tapped my ankle, and I stepped out of them one foot at a time.

One of them sank to his knees and his mouth slid down my dick in a single motion, further than Brayden's straight, virgin mouth had managed, taking all of me, until his nose pressed flat against my pubes and his throat flexed around my shaft. The other guy crouched under him and took my balls into his mouth, first one and then both, rolling them around on his tongue while his buddy throated me, somehow fitting both their heads expertly around my junk, pulling my dick and balls in different directions while covering me in hot, wet, slippery pleasure. 

I put a hand against the foundation wall. The concrete was cold and their mouths were hot and I was starting to feel like I understood why every guy upstairs walked around so relaxed.

They traded off sucking me without a word to each other, and the second guy stood up, turned me around by the hips, and folded me forward, and hit the floor behind me. His thumbs spread my cheeks and his tongue dragged flat and wet across my sore hole, and he pulled my ass back into his face. The other guy followed around me and started sucking me again from the front while the tongue invaded my tender ass. 

They gripped both sides of my thighs together to hold me still, as the guy behind me pointed his tongue, working it into me deeply, into the same hole Brayden had stretched open barely an hour before. The soreness mixed with the pleasurably wet warmth made my thighs shake. His friend kept his mouth and fist on my dick the whole time, so no part of me was ever untouched.

I turned my head, and that was when Brayden crossed my line of sight again. He walked through the middle of the basement completely naked, his huge boner at full mast and bouncing with every step, and a muscular upperclassman walked beside him buckling a collar around his neck. A thin leash hung from the collar, and the guy held the end of it loose in one fist, leading him. Brayden put his hands behind his back and a second dude cuffed his wrists with little black fabric handcuffs, the soft kind. They steered him onto a bizarre chair, a padded frame with no real seat, just rests for his thighs and open air under his ass, and once he settled into it a third guy tied a blindfold over his eyes. Brayden sat there in the dark of his blindfold with his fat dick pointing at the ceiling, and he was smiling, his jaw hanging slightly open. I wasn't sure, but I thought I could see him drooling.

The tongue pushed deeper into my ass right as a random new guy knelt down in front of me, some random dude whose face I never got a good look at, nudging his friend aside. He swallowed my dick to the root forcefully, somehow creating even more suction than the first guy had. I grabbed his shoulder to stay standing. Across the room, a lean dude with a swimmer's back stepped over the strange chair, reached behind himself to hold Brayden's dick upright, and sat down on it. I watched my roommate's hog disappear into another man's ass, the whole length of it to the base, and the dude started riding him while Brayden strained against the little handcuffs, and with a tongue buried in my ass I came straight down the throat of the stranger in front of me, six pulses, maybe seven, my hand crushing his shoulder. He swallowed all of it and kept his lips sealed around me until I stopped twitching.

Brayden couldn't see any of it. But even across the basement, over the music, I heard his characteristic hiccup laugh.

"No homo," I said to nobody, still breathing hard, and the guy on his knees pulled off my dick, looked up at me, and grinned.