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Humping My Hung Buddy

Chapter 6: Draining Balls

Jimmy and I were shoulder to shoulder and our thighs had come together under the water, hip to knee, the sides of our ass basically touching, with our friends right there, and neither of us adjusted.

My outside hand slid off my own leg and settled flat on top of his thigh. Warm and slippery from the coconut stuff. I left it there.

Jimmy did not look at me. He did not change pitch. He kept arguing with Spencer, who had taken up his post for another round of the jet, about whether Rachel had ever actually said the thing everybody claimed she said, and he started listing evidence, counting it off, being a complete idiot about it while my palm sat on his ass under a foot of foam.

I moved my hand inward along the back of his thigh, and then down underneath his balls, feeling the water rushing by as my fingers crept toward his ass. Jimmy shifted his hips forward and tipped himself off the bench a couple of inches, opening himself up to my hand, still talking, never once breaking cadence.

"...and second of all, Marissa told him that, not her, so the entire premise is wrong."

"That's not what I heard."

"You heard wrong."

I got two fingers under the back of the waistband and worked it the rest of the way down while he explained his second point, and then my whole hand was in the cleft of him, hot even in that water, everything slippery.

I circled once.

Danny said something about Trevor's car. Spencer laughed at it. I contributed nothing. My mouth had become non-functional, the nerves of being around the other guys only making it worse, as I pushed my thumb into my best friend under the water.

He opened up for me easily, a hell of a lot less resistance than that first night. Just heat, and that ring of him gripping down and then giving. I dug my thumb in deeper as my fingers tickled the back of his ball sack, the whole taint area vibrating with jacuzzi jet stimulation.

He was in the middle of a sentence when it happened. Half a second of nothing, and a swallow I only caught because his shoulder was touching me, and then he finished the sentence on the exact word he'd been standing on.

"...anyway, that's a him problem."

"That's such a cop-out," Danny said.

Spencer was looking directly at Jimmy's face while he said it, and he saw nothing.

I got up on one knee on the bench so I could reach better, chest angled toward his shoulder, but still trying to remain inconspicuous with my arm buried past the elbow, both of us still facing the wall with our hips on the nozzles. I kept my thumb working at a slow pace in his ring, slowly in and out. His thigh tightened against mine and stayed tight. One of his hands came up out of the water and pressed flat on the tile wall.

I curled up into the spot inside him that he liked, the one I'd found in his bedroom, and his voice climbed half a step in the middle of a word.

"...he would," he said. "He would say that."

Danny seemed to notice the inflection change, looking back over his shoulder at Jimmy. "Did you just cum again?"

"Something like that," he muttered.

I did that several more times while he was talking, just to hear it happen. Then Jimmy retaliated, because of course he did.

His near arm went under the water, and his hand went straight down my front and closed around me in a full grip, holding the base of my dick and keeping it aimed at the jet, at the same moment he turned his head toward Danny.

"Hey, is your cousin still working at that Taco Bell?"

"Yeah, he's still there," Danny said, and then he went on to tell anecdotes about Rick.

Jimmy nodded along. He said "huh" at the right places. And under the foam his fist stroked me slowly and firmly, all the way up, twisting at the head at the top of every stroke, while the jet hammered the head of it at the same time and my thumb was still inside him, both of us locked into each other from two directions with his shoulder jammed up under my chest.

"Right, and then the manager left," Danny said. "You know about that?"

He was looking at me.

"Nope," I said.

"Are you dying over there?" Spencer said. "You've barely said a word."

"Heat's getting to me," I said, which was technically true.

"He's a lightweight," Jimmy said, and squeezed my balls gently while he kept nodding at Danny.

Danny got maybe another minute into Rick stories when Jimmy raised his voice at the room.

"You know what this water needs?"

I knew. My whole body knew.

"Don't," Spencer said.

"Special sauce."

Danny lost his mind. Both hands up out of the water, foam flying, slapping the rim.

"WHAT IS THE SAUCE," he yelled. "Bro. BRO. You have said like a thousand times. WHAT IS THE SAUCE."

"He told you," Spencer said. "He literally told you at lunch that one day. You didn't want to hear it."

"No, he just said... ohhhh."

"Yeah..."

And while all of that ran over the top of me, I felt an orgasm suddenly rise up in me, and I finished, my shaft throbbing against Jimmy's palm into the churn of the jets. My hips clamped down hard onto the nozzle and one hand caught the tile rim and gripped it, and it pulled out of me in long squirts, under a foot of foam, with Danny reacting to his realization behind me. Jimmy's fist never stopped stroking me through it, and he squeezed me tighter at the exact right second, the second I would have picked myself.

I let the last of it out behind a big fake yawn, arms up over my head, stretching my shoulders back.

Jimmy's hand slid off me and came up out of the water to gesture something to Danny about whatever they were talking about. I sat there hollowed out in water I had personally contributed to, listening to Danny still yelling about sauce.

"How much special sauce did we all add?" Danny asked.

"Two," Spencer said.

"One," I said. "A big one though."

"Three," Danny said. "Jimmy?"

"Two tonight." Jimmy tipped his head back against the rim.

"Get me out of this water," Spencer said, but he didn't move.

"I'm done too," I said, my eyes barely opening through the haze, "Fully cooked." 

Danny and Jimmy, basically at the same time, said, "I'll do one more."

They laughed at the jinx moment, and turned back to their jets in unison like a mirror image.

So Spencer and I moved down the long bench and left them the wall. We ended up side by side with our legs overlapping under the water, his shin resting across my knee, and we chatted like normal, arguing about pizza toppings for later, while the two of them faced their nozzles and rolled their hips in slow little pushes, shifting gently against the tile.

Bubbles were dying by then. Foam that had been up a foot out of the water thinned out to scattered islands getting pushed around by water jet flows, and the surface cleared enough that the tops of their butts rose up out of the water every time they rolled forward, Danny's two round meat boulders and Jimmy's tight little peach mounds, both shining wet and bubbly.

"This is funny," Spencer said.

Nothing.

"Two dudes about to cum right in front of us," I said.

"Who do you think is gonna go first?"

"Danny, I guess. Jimmy's stamina builds exponentially."

"Nah, Jimmy is gonna crack first."

"They can't even hear us," Spencer said. "They're on dates with your girlfriend."

"You mean you?" I said as I reached across and squeezed his dick, making him flinch and laugh. 

"Guys," I said loudly, making Danny and Jimmy's ears perk up as they kept their eyes down on themselves, "Tell us when you cum. We have a bet on who's first."

Jimmy chuckled.

"Aight," they said almost at the same time. 

Danny slid an inch to one side. Jimmy re-planted his knees on the bench.

"Almost there," Jimmy said, immediately before Danny said, "I'm there."

Then both sets of cheeks clenched at almost the same moment, pulled in tight, held, and slowly relaxed.

"That's four for me," Danny said.

"I got three," Jimmy said, "And I guess that was a tie."

They sat down at our level, and just then the jets suddenly turned off. Our bodies became slowly visible through the water.

"I can see all your dicks," Spencer said.

We all looked around, and slowly stood up in the middle of the tub, facing each other wordlessly, understanding that some amount of direct comparison was in order, all of us less shy after emptying our balls together.

And the heat had kept our dicks and our balls hanging low. Four red dicks at half mast, balls loose and dangling under them like the water had steamed everything soft. Even my own balls looked bigger and lower than normal, and I felt the extra weight of them when I straightened up. Jimmy's was its usual magnificent self, fat and heavy off his hips, impossible not to look at. 

Danny held his out across two fingers. "Thickness. I win thickness."

"Length is Jimmy," Spencer said. "Nobody's arguing length."

"What about girth at the base."

"That's thickness, dude."

"Jimmy wins that too," I said.

"Maybe."

"What about 'ability to pleasure a girl,'" Spencer said, doing air quotes with wet hands, "because that's technique, and I have technique."

"You've never touched a girl," Danny said.

"I practice!"

"On, what? Fucking your pillow?"

"Yes."

Jimmy said nothing. He picked his up with one hand, lifted it out level, and dropped it, and it swung down and smacked against his thigh. The image of it was all we really needed. There was no point in debating beyond that. Danny tried the same move and his didn't have the same physical mechanics as Jimmy's. Spencer didn't even attempt it.

"It's not the size of the boat," Spencer said. "Or however that goes."

Jimmy's phone buzzed with a notification. "Food's here," he said.

"Food," Danny echoed, his hand grabbing his stomach. "I need food immediately."

····[]····

We emptied out of that tub with urgency, our balls empty and our stomachs suddenly growling, like we were making each other hungrier somehow. Spencer went first, and Danny went after him, their naked butts bumping at the hip as they jostled to get downstairs first, arguing about whether you can put an entire pizza in an air fryer.

"YOU CANNOT," Spencer yelled from somewhere below.

Jimmy and I stayed in the steam, standing on the wet tile. He was still drying his hair with a towel. I had mine around my neck. The fan churned overhead and the water still buzzed with hot suds behind us.

"That went well," he said, from inside the towel.

"Really well," I added.

He pulled the towel off his head and his brown hair stood straight up in every direction, making him look more boyish than usual. 

We came downstairs and Danny and Spencer were already on their second slices, still naked, hair dripping onto their shoulders, paper plates balanced on their bare thighs. Nobody had bothered with clothes, so Jimmy and I didn't either, and we loaded up and spread out across the couches of his living room, all four of us clean and damp, freshly boiled boys eating pizza with everything hanging out.

"That was actually really fun," Danny said, folding a slice in half.

"Honestly, yeah," Spencer said. "We should do that every weekend."

"And you fought me on the bubbles," Jimmy said.

"The bubbles were correct."

Jimmy reached into the box for another slice and didn't even look up.

"You should see what else we get up to."