My Friend Showed Me How Big It Gets 03: Helicopter Dicks & Butt Massages (Patreon)

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Chapter 3: Helicopter Dicks & Butt Massages

Alex was on the steps behind the gym with his vape, and I sat down and told him what happened with Finn the day before, how playing with the massager turned into having an orgasm together, the magazine, the vibrating thing, both of us with our pants down, his hand around both of us at once while I gripped his hip.

Alex listened to the whole thing with his forearms on his knees and then blew a cloud out sideways so it wouldn't hit me.

"So you got a boner from your friend's mom's neck massager."

"That's the part you took from that?"

"It's a good part." He turned the vape over in his fingers. "Honestly I don't get the big deal about one guy's dick. Like it's a dick. I've got one."

"No, I don't think I'm obsessed with his dick. I just think about him. Like all the time."

"Sure." He shrugged, and then he hooked a thumb into the waistband of his jeans and pulled it out and down a couple inches, and there was his dick, stiff, pushed up along his hip under the denim, and he looked at me while he held it there. "Your story made me hard."

"Gross," I said, and I leaned away, laughing so hard I had to put a hand on the step behind me. "Put that shit away, dude. Oh my god."

He let the waistband snap back and he looked pleased with himself, not offended at all.

"It's just a dick," he said.

"Bruh we're on school property."

"Your reaction," he said, pausing to hit the vape again, "but for Finn's dick, you'd go nuts. I bet you'd suck it."

"Maybe," I said.

In my head I knew I would.

"So would you fuck him?"

I sat with that for a second. It was strange to think about in front of Alex, for some reason. A group of freshmen went past the fence toward the bus loop and I watched them the whole way.

"Yeah," I said. "Probably. I don't know what that makes me. It's not guys in general. It's him."

Alex nodded toward the fence where the freshmen had gone.

"Okay. Does he think it's a joke, or does he know?"

"Know what."

"Come on."

"It's a bit," I said. "It's a whole running bit, like just joking. He's into it because it's funny."

"I think he actually likes you. More than that," Alex said.

I doubted him. I couldn't let myself believe that.

····[]····

Finn was coming down off a sweaty workout set when I got to his room. The resistance bands were still anchored in the door hinge, both handles hanging, and the door was stuck at that half-open angle it always got with the bands in it. He was sitting on the floor with his back against the bed frame and his tank top pushed up on his stomach, breathing through his mouth, sweat down his chest and shining in the crease of his hip.

"Give me a sec," he said.

"Take your time."

He put his head back against the mattress and closed his eyes, and I sat in the desk chair and told him he'd only done half the lab table that day, the part with the numbers, and he grinned with his eyes still shut and didn't argue it. I had jerked off next to him a few days earlier with his fist around both of us and his cum drying on my shirt on the walk home, and here we were in his room talking about AP Bio like nothing had shifted an inch. Nothing between us had changed at all. If anything he was even looser than before, more physical with me.

He stood up and looked at himself in the mirror. He did this thing where he flexed one pec at a time. 

"This is a party trick for moms," he said, making me laugh. "But I have better ones." 

"Prove it," I said.

"You're not ready," he said.

"I don't think you know what I'm ready for."

He looked at me, through the mirror, narrowing his eyes. He suddenly pushed his shorts and briefs down and stepped out of them, his toned butt facing me and his big, meaty dick flopping around in the mirror. He stood there in the tank top with his hands out like a magician.

Then he started swinging his hips.

His dick and balls went in big circles, that heavy soft thing whipping around and slapping his thighs on both sides, and he had a dead serious face on while he did it, which made me start to laugh. 

His chin was up, staring at his performance in the mirror like he was at the Olympics. I laughed so hard I fell sideways out of the chair onto the bed. He kept going. He got it swinging faster and it made an actual noise every time it hit his leg.

"Helicopter," he said, in an announcer voice. "Fantastic showing by Finn Junior today."

"Stop, I'm gonna throw up."

"You said to prove it."

"Okay, I'm impressed," I said, "... Finn Junior?"

"That's my dick," he said, still swinging his meat around.

So I kicked off my shorts and my boxers and stood up on the carpet next to him, facing the mirror, and  I did it too. I was slightly harder than he was, which I noticed, and mine did not have anywhere near the reach of his, but I mimicked him until I was awkwardly swinging my bad boy around in circles. 

But then I was rock hard within seconds, which killed the trick entirely. I couldn't get any swing on it at all.

"That's not how it works," Finn said, pointing at me. "You have to be soft."

"Well I'm not."

"I can see that."

He wasn't fully soft either at that point, and I didn't say it. We stood there naked from the waist down in the middle of his room, both of us cracking up, and then he flopped onto his stomach on the bed with his face turned to the side on the pillow.

"My back hurts," he said. "From the bands today. I think I pulled something."

I looked at his bare butt, and his balls and part of his dick that were visible between his thighs as he lay there. I didn't exactly know how to fix a muscle problem, but I had definitely heard people loosely discuss it.

"Do you want me to rub it?"

"Yeah, actually," he said quickly, perking up. He propped up onto his elbows and pulled out his phone, putting on a youtuber he liked.

I got up on the bed and swung a leg over him, staying naked because why not at this point. I knew my boner was touching his thighs, but neither of us seemed to care. I sat back and rested my butt on his thighs, feeling the skin contact, trying to pretend it was all casual, which made my head start to spin. 

I reached forward and started prodding his back muscles with my thumbs. His skin was still damp from the workout, and it was warm under my palms. I ran both hands up either side of his spine and leaned my weight in, and he made a low, smooth exhale.

"There. Right there. Now left. Up a little. Yes. Now push really hard right there... Ohhhh my god yes."

I worked up to his shoulders and down his lats, digging my thumbs into the thick part beside his shoulder blades until I felt a knot sort of give in a way. His whole back is enormous. My hands looked like boy hands on it.

I went lower with each pass. Down past his ribs, into the small of his back, and then my palms were on his bare ass, and I kept going, kneading both cheeks with my thumbs pressing in toward the middle, and he didn't say anything about it at all for a minute, then chimed in.

"Isn't that gross," he said. "Grabbing a guy's butt."

"You need a massage," I said, keeping my thumbs deep in his muscular glutes.

"I know, but..." he hesitated. "Well, girls like it, I guess." 

He shifted his hips down into the mattress. "That's what I've heard. After a shower at least."

"You're all sweaty right now."

"That's new sweat, though. I showered after school."

"Yeah," I said. "I can actually tell. It doesn't smell bad."

We both chuckled at the absurdity of the topic, and I kept going. His butt cheeks were dense and thick, and they moved under my hands when I pushed them, and after a couple minutes I put a thumb on each one and pulled them apart, just to see it I guess, and he let his legs fall open to make it easier.

There was no hair on him anywhere back there, smooth all the way down to his taint.

"I thought you'd have hair here to be honest," I said.

"I haven't been plagued with that yet," he said, dropping his head onto the pillow, letting his arms rest, his phone still in one hand.

"It's really pink."

"Shut up."

"I'm just saying. It's very pink. It's like a pussy."

"You wouldn't know," he said.

"I swear to god," I said, pushing a thumb directly onto his hole, making him flinch. 

He relaxed after a second, and I left my thumb on it. It looked so clean, and it was the one part of him I'd never had any information about yet. I rubbed a small circle over it and his whole back tensed briefly, under my other hand, and then he breathed out through his mouth, long, into the pillow.

I kept rubbing in little circles, taking advantage of the layer of sweat, making it easy to glide my skin across his. 

His breathing changed. It slowed and deepened, and he stopped talking, and every few seconds his hips pushed back into my hands, small, needy little pushes. I almost heard a faint moan.

I was sitting on his thighs and I was hard against him and there was no hiding that, and I could sense him getting hard too as he shifted his hips, trapped under himself against the mattress, because he started grinding down and forward on the sheet in a slow rhythm. His hole tightened under my thumb every time he pushed back.

"We should get the massager," I said.

"My mom put it away somewhere."

"She probably knows what we did with it."

"Shut up."

He was chuckling into the mattress when he said it, his shoulders shaking under my hands, and he pushed back onto my thumb again while he was still laughing.

Then he reached back and swatted at my leg.

"Okay. Your turn."

I got off him and he sat up, showing his huge, meaty hog at full hardness. It was almost intimidating seeing it like that again. The thing was never not going to be a shocker. 

He rolled me over by the shoulder like I weighed nothing, and I went face down on the pillow with my hips against the bed. He straddled the backs of my legs and put his hands on my back, letting his heavy dick rest against me. His hands are so much bigger than mine that he covered basically everything at once. He pressed down on either side of my spine with the heels of his palms and I groaned into the pillow, feeling a bit of his drool he had left behind as it cooled my face.

Then he went straight down to where my shorts would have been, except I'd never gotten them back on, so his hands were on my bare ass, squeezing and pushing the cheeks around in big slow handfuls like he was working dough.

"Careful I don't fart on you," I said into the pillow.

"I'll take that risk," he said, and I felt him laughing behind me, and then his thumbs pulled me apart the same way I did to him, and he looked, and I felt the cool air on me, followed by his hot breath. He was getting close.

The laughing went out of both of us. He put a thumb on me, dry, and rubbed the same small circle I'd been doing to him, seemingly curious more than anything else, and my face pushed into the mattress, and my hips shoved back at his hand and my dick was pinned underneath me against the sheet, throbbing, leaking onto his bedspread. I couldn't have said one word if I tried.

Then someone knocked on the front door.

Three fast wraps, low on the door, and Danny's voice came through it, already talking. My heart slammed and I was off the bed and into my boxers with one leg going in the wrong hole first, hopping, and I got my shorts up over them just as the door came in against the resistance bands and stuck.

Finn had not moved fast at all. He pulled his shorts up standing, dragged the tank top down over his stomach, and sat on the edge of the bed like he'd been sitting there all afternoon.

Danny got the door past the bands and came in, sniffing around.

"Why's it smell like a locker room in here."

"I worked out," Finn said.

"It smells like ass, dude. Or balls." He looked at the bed, which had the sheet pulled halfway off the corner, and then he looked at me standing by the desk with my shirt on backwards. "What are you guys even doing."

"Bio," I said.

"Sure."

"It's on our phones."

Danny stood there another second, staring at us, before he started talking about a party on Saturday and about somebody's brother who had a truck now. I hated Danny in that moment. I wanted him to leave. He picked up one of the band handles while he was talking, and let it go. He looked at the bed again. Finn and I barely said anything, since Danny was doing all the talking. Then he apparently ran out of material to speak at us, got bored and left, and the door thunked against the bands on his way out.

I sat down in the desk chair.

"He's got a nose like a bloodhound," I said.

It didn't get a laugh from Finn. He stayed on the edge of the bed, and I could hear the bands swinging against the door.

I found my socks under the desk and put them on. Then I got my shoes and started working the laces, taking my time with them, and Finn watched me do it and didn't say anything to keep me there.

Then, with my second shoe half tied:

"I don't really care what Danny thinks," he said. "Do you?"

I looked up at him.

He was sitting there with his hands hanging between his knees, and I stayed crouched over the lace with my hands stopped on it. He had never once panicked, not with the massager, not with his hands in my ass thirty minutes prior. He was calm because he already knew exactly what this was, between us, and he had known for a while, even while I was in complete denial, confusion. But he had already decided it was fine.

"No," I said. "I don't care... if he knows"

"Okay."

His mom's car came up the driveway right then, and I heard the kitchen door, and then her voice calling up the stairs, and Finn yelled down that we were up here. She came up with a grocery bag still in her arm and stood in the doorway and shook my hand, and she said my name like she'd heard it a lot, and told me I was welcome at dinner, they were doing an Italian thing.

"I gotta get home," I said. "My parents need me for a thing."

"Next time then," she said like she meant it.

Finn walked me down. At the front door he knocked his knuckles against my chest, twice, and said, "Thursday," about the lab writeup, and I said Thursday, and I went down the porch steps into the dark.

····[]····

I was in bed with the lights off, on my back, not doing anything about my raging, hormonal erection yet, letting it simmer, both hands flat on my stomach over the blanket as I thought about things. Finn sort of acknowledged that we had a thing between us. I felt like I needed Alex's words of wisdom about it, but I only liked talking to him in person. 

I kept thinking about pulling Finn's ass apart with my thumbs and how he stopped talking under me and pushed back into my hands. And under that, the flat sound of Alex saying so would you fuck him.

My phone lit the ceiling. I grabbed it.

Finn: You gonna jerk off?

My chest thumped. He was thinking about it like I was. 

Me: Yeah

Finn: Me too

I typed something, and deleted it and typed it again, and then I sent it, because it was dumb enough that a guy could say it to another guy and mean nothing by it, except we both knew better than that at this point.

Me: Wish I had those luscious cheeks to look at

Then nothing.

A minute passed, then two. I put the phone face down on my chest and picked it up again. I decided he'd fallen asleep, or he'd read it and set the phone down and started his evening jerkoff, and I started composing a follow-up joke that would take the whole thing back, and I was still working on the wording when the screen lit up.

Finn: Careful what you wish for

Under it was a video.

He shot it in the mirror in his room, phone in his left hand, the resistance bands hanging in the door behind him. He was standing naked with his shirt on the floor and his fist working his large cock, that whole heavy thing stiff and pointing up out of his hand, his abs pulling tight every couple of strokes. Twenty seconds of it, his breathing heavy over the sounds of his skin touching himself.

Then he turned around.

He looked at himself over his shoulder in the mirror, and he shook his ass at the camera, back and forth, twice, and the video cut.

I watched it again. Then I watched it a third time and stopped it on the part where he turned.

Me: HAHAHAHAHA

Me: ngl I'm hard

Finn: Me too.