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Humping My Hung Buddy

Chapter 2: Special Sauce

Jimmy dragged the flat of his palm up his own stomach, one long swipe, gathering it up. Then he held it out in the air between us, palm up, fingers spread. A mixture of our loads was sitting in it, running down toward his wrist.

He looked me dead in the eye.

"I dare you to lick it."

I glanced once more across his naked body, his large cock resting on his abs, and I leaned down over his forearm and licked a stripe up the heel of his palm, all the way to the base of his fingers.

I barely remember what it tasted like, as I was more entranced with Jimmy's reaction. He didn't act like I expected. He just screamed like it had all been a big joke, and his heel slammed into the bed and one knee came up so fast it caught me in the ribs and knocked me sideways down next to him. He rolled onto his shoulder and howled, wiping his hand off on his own ruined shirt, kicking his legs like he was drowning.

"Oh my GOD," he wheezed. "You actually ate our... special sauce."

I had swallowed it quickly, but the surface of my mouth was slick and tasted like something strange, oddly familiar, faintly like pennies, and it stuck to my tongue for a while.

"How'd you like it?"

"It, uh... wasn't bad honestly."

····[]····

The next day, I knew nothing had changed when Jimmy came up behind me at my desk while the teacher was writing on the board and humped my shoulder blade twice and then sat down like nothing happened. I remember smiling, more that things were normal than at the joke. He later whispered to me during class that he was hard, pulling his pants flat with two fingers so I could see the outline, mouthing "Boner" at me from two rows over.

Then he started joking about what happened, but obliquely. When we were in the hallway at school, people all around us, and I was mid-sip from my water bottle when he nodded at it and said, "You want some special sauce in that?" I choked so hard that water sprayed down my chin, and he clapped me on the back and kept walking to class, while three girls looked at me like I was an idiot. Jimmy was in a bold mood, and he shouldered a locker shut at the end of the hall and yelled something about doing well on a math test to a girl he'd never spoken to before, arms up over his head like he was celebrating a victory. She just looked at him like he was crazy. I felt my face turn red as I watched his cocky little butt walk away.

After that, things were basically normal, but he'd bring it up right in the open, in front of people who had no idea, basically making it an inside joke.

He said it anywhere. He said it at lunch to Danny, this football guy we hung out with a lot at school. He held up a container of fries. 

"These need special sauce," he said.

"What sauce," Danny said. "Bro. That's like the tenth time you've said that. WHAT SAUCE?"

"Special sauce," Jimmy said, giggling while I just shook my head.

"Whatever," Danny said, narrowing his eyes at both of us.

I looked at Danny, definitely the fittest one among us. I had no idea at that point where dick size actually came from, and after seeing Jimmy's, I was sort of fascinated with the idea. I wondered if being jacked gave you a bigger dick.

"How big is your meat?" I said to Danny. 

He looked at me for a second, furrowing his brow while Jimmy's eyes went wide.

"Ummm," he said, looking down at his wrapped burger thing. "Like, an inch?"

····[]····

Another time, walking behind Danny and Spencer down the science hall, I caught myself grading their butts in my head. I told myself I was thinking about whether girls liked guys' butts. 

I mean, body builders do focus on glutes a lot, I thought, there's something to ponder there at least. 

Spencer was in basketball shorts, which basically showed a full outline of his butt cheeks, and Danny was in jeans, which was a harder read. And I compared them up against Jimmy's, which I hadn't actually looked at closely yet. I had been too stunned by his dick to think about anything else. But the two in front of me were round and high, and I pictured the pale skin under the fabric.

That night, though, in my own bed, my phone lay face-down next to me with no tab open on it. I didn't even bother finding something. I'd get my hand on myself and go straight to it.

I'd think about his thighs falling wider apart under my knees to give me room. The weight of him in my fist, hot, so thick my fingers wouldn't close, jumping every time I squeezed it. That buzz of a groan he tried to swallow coming up out of his throat into my palm.

I grabbed an old t-shirt off my floor and squirted into it hard, and then lay there in the dark with the shirt still in my hand, and realized the shirt was one of his. I borrowed clothes from him all the time at his place, gym shorts one time, a t-shirt another and sometimes he never took it back.

····[]····

Near the end of the week, at the lunch table, Jimmy looked me in the eyes as he told Spencer that his chicken needed special sauce, and Spencer put his fork down.

"Okay, seriously, what is it," Spencer said. "Is it a gay joke? I seriously don't even get it."

"It's my cum, dude," Jimmy said, at full volume with his mouth full. "I sauce everything. I sauced your mom's roast beef."

Spencer said something about his mom and Danny died laughing, and the whole table moved a second later. Thankfully no one noticed how silent I was being about it, flabbergasted into wordlessness from hearing actual truth said out loud, which was more inane than any accusation anyone could have been. I laughed about half a beat behind everybody else.

I ate my sandwich.

····[]····

Friday during last period my phone buzzed in my pocket.

Jimmy: Parents are gone until Sunday

Me: Tight

Jimmy: Jacuzzi party?

Me: Who should we invite?

Jimmy: No one

Me: Tight

····[]····

I let myself in when I came over to his house that night. The tub was already running when I got up to the master bathroom, steam clouding up the mirrors, same room, same jets as the first time. I stood on the tile by the door with a towel over my shoulder, still in my shorts and t-shirt, waiting for him to toss me a pair of briefs like he did before.

He was on the far side of the tub with his back mostly to me. He pulled his shirt off over his head and dropped it, and then he hooked his shorts and his underwear together in one grab and shoved them down and stepped out of them.

He turned as he came down onto the step, and I saw his big softy, bare and open. That was actually the first time I witnessed it in that exact state. I'd only seen in through a layer of clothes or else rock hard and standing up.

It hung forward and heavy off him, thick even like that, lying loose against his balls with the head pointed down and to the side. Pale, fat, resting. Nothing happening. Just there on him. It was strange to acknowledge that even soft, the thing was a monster. There was no comparison. 

Hard is something Jimmy does at you, something he announces, something he wiggles at me from across a room. Soft was just his natural body in its rested state, with no performance involved. And he was still bigger than a human should be. I just watched, while he seemed not to notice or care.

Before he sank all the way in, he braced a hand on the far rim and bent forward over the edge to reach the temperature dial on the wall, still standing on the step, and despite part of my brain telling me to look literally anywhere else, I stared directly at his ass as his cheeks opened up.

I was maybe three feet behind him. It was pink, right there in the middle, completely smooth, not a hair on it.

"Do you shave your ass?" I said.

He straightened up and looked back at me with his eyebrows all the way down.

"No," he said. "What? No. Do you?"

I chuckled. "No."

Then I turned around, shoved my shorts and my underwear down to my thighs, and bent over on the tile with my hands on my knees and held it there. I didn't exactly have a hairy ass, but my cheeks had some fuzz, compared to his smooth peach.

"This is what a real man looks like," I said.

"Oh my GOD," Jimmy said. "Dude. DUDE."

"Take it in."

"Damn," he said. "Good for you I guess."

I kicked everything off my ankles and got in on the opposite bench with nothing on, neither of us needing to acknowledge the new normal.

"I guess after a guy humps you to completion and shows you the hair on his ass, there isn't much left to hide," he said, chuckling.

"Damn right," I said, feeling a tingle in my stomach at how nice things were in that moment.

"Do you like coconut smell?" he asked as he started pouring a bubble bath mixture into the water, the foam springing up instantly.

"Sure," I said, not really registering what he had said as I lowered myself down into the water.

We both knew what we were going to do the second we got in. Neither of us said it. He propped his phone against the faucet, faced his naked body toward a jet, the top of his ass peeking out above the water with bubbles hugging it, and I took the jet next to him. My side was pressed against his, our thighs touching from hip to knee. He loaded up one of our mutual favorite spicy girls from Twitter, and we both started breathing slowly as the jets stimulated our thirsty, hormonal dicks.

But my attention was turned more toward him than toward the phone, and every single time I looked over, he was already looking at me, and then his eyes would skip to the screen a second late.

Without our underwear on, the jet was a different animal. The water hammered directly onto the head of my dick, no cotton dulling any of the intensity. It was sharper and meaner than the first time, and I had to pull back off it every few seconds just to keep from cumming. 

"This is way better with no underwear," I said.

"I know," he said. His voice had dropped into that flat, low register that I had only heard recently. "I'm so fucking hard right now, dude."

"Same. Rock hard."

"This jet is my girlfriend," he added.

"Have you been up here a lot since last weekend?"

"Every day," he said with a chuckle, "Before they get home."

"I'm so jealous."

His knees kept sliding down off the nozzle and swearing about it, and at one point he came halfway up out of the water on his knees to re-aim himself, and he was out of it from the hips down for a good couple seconds, water pouring off him, dick standing straight up off his stomach with the head shining.

"Bro, that thing is a monster," I said.

"You've been staring at it," he said, dropping back down. "You want it on a plate."

"Put it on a plate then."

"Get me a plate."

I gave up on the phone entirely after that. Neither of us looked at it again.

"I keep sliding," he complained, hitching himself forward for the fifth time. "It's this bubble bath crap I put in. The bench is more slippery than normal."

That didn't make any sense to me, but I wasn't going to argue.

"You want me to hold you on it?"

He shrugged one shoulder. "Yeah, actually."

It wasn't really a joke anymore. I came around behind him and got up on my knees on the bench, both of us facing the same wall, him sitting forward with his hips pinned to the nozzle, my chest coming down against his back. I put both arms around his chest under the water and hauled backward, locking him in place in front of the jet. I felt his hips adjust against my body, his slippery ass sliding across my abs until he found the right spot.

"OH," he said, freezing in place. "...right there."

I held him exactly where he wanted to be, happy to be supporting my big-dicked friend, literally.

There was nothing between us anymore, and when I fell victim to the same slippery seat that he had, I re-adjusted quickly, putting his hips back in the right spot, and my dick suddenly pressed straight up against the top of his ass, bare skin on skin, my balls squished against his tensing butt cheeks.

And every time the jet made him squirm my hips followed him, small at first, and then more pronounced. Even above the water, my wet skin slid on his, my chest rubbing against the sudsy smoothness of his back, all that heat around us, my chin ending up somewhere near his shoulder while I breathed on his neck, getting off in a weird way, even without the jet.

"You better not try to butt fuck me," he said, grinding his hips against the jet.

"Never say never."

"Are you trying to slip it in? You're not lubed up enough for that, bro."

"You'd take it and then beg for it again," I said, and I didn't stop pushing my hips against him, somewhere between a joke and getting off, the horniness blurring everything now.

"I'd take it like a champ."

"I'd rock your world, baby girl."

"Champ," he said, and then he reached one hand back under the water and clamped it on my thigh to brace himself, and shoved his hips harder onto the nozzle.

I ground into him steadily and he ground into the wall and the whole thing kept moving, and the jokes kept running between us, as I started to get closer and closer to orgasm while rubbing my dick between my friend's butt cheeks under the water, and it got quiet for a minute.

"This is the best feeling of my life," he said, half into the tile.

I hummed a gentle agreement.

"Nothing could make this better, dude. Nothing."

"The only thing better is an orgasm with finger in your ass," I said.

"What the fuck?" he said.

It was out of my mouth before I even realized what it sounded like, but since it was already out in the open. I just rolled with it.

"You've never done that?"

"No, dude."

"It's good. I do it in the shower."

"That's crazy," he said.

And then neither of us said anything else, another minute of silence while he breathed heavily, his dick against the jet, mine against his ass. The jet kept running. His breath kept running.

I slid my hands down off his chest to his hips under the water, and then both my thumbs crept inward toward the middle of him, slowly, and neither of us said a word as I spread him open. I used both hands, working my thumbs around the area first, circles, closer to the tensing middle of him with every pass, until I had them dead center, and pushed both in at once.

He clenched down so hard on them I thought for a second I had hurt him.

Then he coughed out, "I'm cumming," and his whole body locked forward against the jet, both hands slapping flat on the wall. I held my thumbs right where they were and felt him pulse around them, rapidly, over and over, gripping and letting go, that tight ring of muscle squeezing down like it was hungry for my digits.

And his little butt cheeks clamped around my hands with every pulse, his back arching into my chest, and my dick stayed trapped up against him, riding each clench. He shot his load somewhere into the churning water, the bubbles swallowing any evidence, while he shuddered against me. 

He slowly stopped twitching, as he fell away from me and slumped down onto the bench, all the way down, breathing through his mouth with his forehead on his arm, his large boner still poking up slightly out of the water. The first time, I never saw him actually exhausted after cumming. But now he was spent.

"Now we're in special sauce soup," I said as I eased back and sat on the other end of the bench, the head of my dick pointing above the surface too.

"My brother's coming home for Thanksgiving," he said eventually, his eyes closed against his arm.

"The whole week?"

"Like... three days. And he's bringing his girlfriend."

I turned sideways on the bench while talking to him, and found the angle where the jet caught the head of my dick, and held it there.

"Is she the one from the pictures?"

"That's the one. She calls him Robbie."

"That's horrible," I said, and finished into the water right there while continuing to talk to him casually. "That's the worst thing I've ever heard."

"Right?" he said. "Robbie."