Bro Jobs and Hand Jobs

I had assumed that after my straight friend, James, and I had hooked up, that our friendship would dissolve, or, at the very least, grow strained. It's not every day that a straight guy lets his gay friend suck him off, after all. In my experience, it was very rare that introducing sex into a platonic friendship had no consequences.

Ever since we had hooked, James had become very comfortable sending me pictures and videos of his cock. It definitely wasn't a nightly occurrence, but our messaging had become a lot more frequent. James almost always initiated, which was refreshing after having to jump through hoops to get any sort of attention from Max. He'd start out casual but end up segueing into how it was time for him to find some good porn to watch.

As this became our new normal, he grew more comfortable discussing what turned him on. James thought it would be hot to jerk me off; the idea of making me cum really got him going. The hornier he got, the naughtier he became, going so far as to say he was curious what it would feel like to have me cum on his face. One night, he even said that he would probably be open to the idea of 69ing with me. I couldn't lie, 69ing with James would be a wild experience, one that I was certainly down to experience.

With his seasonal depression at an all-time high, James had started to do cocaine more often; not every day, but a few times a month. Given his past addiction to heroin, I was wary of supporting his foray into cocaine, but he promised me that it wouldn't get out of hand. I realized that just because I was afraid to branch out and try new things, to lose my vise-like grip on control, didn't mean that everyone else felt that way. I wished that I could let go and experiment more; acid and shrooms absolutely terrified me, but I wished that I could build up the courage to try them, just to see what the high was like. In a way, I was kind of trying to live vicariously through James.

One night after work, I was watching my two episodes of Grey's Anatomy, when James messaged me. He'd just gotten home from doing coke with a friend; his high was all but gone, but he was incredibly horny. I knew that James would not drive if he was high, but I knew he was more uninhibited sexually when he was high. We started talking dirty, his pics really turning me on. I figured it was just another of our routine late-night sexting expeditions, so I didn't hold back when I felt myself getting close to orgasm. As it turned out, minutes after I blew my load, James said that he was horny enough to make the thirty-five-minute drive to my apartment.

I scrambled to brush my teeth, shower, and organize my bedroom. I had my toothbrush in one hand, while I was sprayed my Downy Calm deodorizer around and spritzed the bed with its sister fabric spray. I wanted to my place to smell nice, especially since I knew that James was allergic to cats. As fall bled into winter and the temperature continued to drop, my cats spent more and more time curled up on the bed, basking in the warmth of my space heater.

I was just drying off post-shower when James messaged me that he had arrived. I quickly threw on my bathrobe and opened the door for him. He got out of his car and walked into my apartment, wrapped up in a black hoodie and sweats. "It's nice and warm in here," he commented, setting his wallet and keys down on my writing desk.

"I know you usually run cold," I replied, shivering against the cold air that had snuck in with the opening of the door.

Back when we'd worked together, I'd learned that James almost always wore shorts in the winter. I could vividly remember one night he'd come in wearing jeans. I tended to run cold, my mind blown that this tiny guy was wearing shorts in the dead of winter. Still, if he was hot, he was hot. Who was I to judge?

"I usually am, but I live in a basement. It's usually freezing down there."

I'd forgotten that he'd moved out of his sister's guest room and back into his dad's basement. His mental health was too poor for him to work regularly; with little to no income it would be nigh on impossible for him to get a place of his own.

"Very true," I said, fastening my robe more tightly against my damp, naked body. "Are you still high?"

"No. I'm completely sober."

Interesting. So even though his cocaine high had worn off, he was still horny for me. I couldn't help but wish that he'd been that open back when I'd have a crush on him. I could have saved myself the heartache of ever even getting involved with Terrence.

"Did you shower before you left?"

"No, I didn't want to wake my dad up," James replied. I'd forgotten that for some reason, if he showered when everyone else was asleep, it would wake up the entire house. "I was hoping I could take a quick one here."

"I just got out," I reminded him, "I doubt there's really any hot water left."

I hated having such a small hot water heater; I'd been growing my hair out since spring, and it took longer to wash and condition my thick mane of hair. Not to mention that it was basically winter and as soon as I shut the water off, I was freezing.

"I'm not sweaty or anything, but I'd feel more comfortable if I could at least wash my unit."

When we'd first started getting to know each other, I'd found it hilarious that he often referred to his penis as his unit.

"There should be enough hot water left for that." I stepped into the laundry room and grabbed him my last clean towel and a clean washcloth. "The body wash is by the shower."

I tried to keep busy while he was freshening up -- sorting my dirty pajamas from my regular dirty clothes so that I could do a load of pajamas -- but I found myself getting turned on by the idea of James pulling his dick out so close to me. The dirty part of me wanted to wash his dick for him, feeling it grow hard under my ministrations.

"Is it bad that the idea of you washing your dick is turning me on?" I asked, grabbing a pile of pajamas and carrying them into the laundry room.

"I don't think so," he replied casually, doing his business.

"I kind of want to watch."

"You can."

The idea was tempting, but I didn't want to weird him out. I knew that this whole thing was so far out of his realm of comfort that I didn't want to push it. Besides, if things went according to plan, I'd be seeing his cock up close and personal within a few minutes anyway.

As I closed the lid on my washer and started it up, I heard the shower turn off. When I came out of the laundry room, James was fully clothed, looking at me expectantly. "Where do you want the washcloth?" he asked, swaying nervously.

"You can just set it on the lip of the tub for now, I have to do a load of towels and stuff later anyway."

As we made our way to my bedroom, James spotted my laptop on my writing desk. "Could we turn some porn on?"

"Yeah, sure." As I turned my laptop on and put in my password, James got into my bed -- on my side -- and sprawled out. His feet were up by my pillow, eliciting a dirty look from my cat, Romana. I handed him the laptop and went around to the other side of the bed. I hadn't been on the right side of my bed in years; it felt weird. I didn't want to ask James to switch sides with me. After all, once he pulled his cock out, it wouldn't matter which side of the bed I was on; my entire focus would be on devouring his delicious unit.

I looked down and saw the bulge poking through his sweatpants. Tentatively, I reached out and started stroking it. "Is this okay?"

He didn't even look up from the laptop screen. "Yeah."

James settled on a blowjob porn and then turned to me. "Did you really want to 69?" he asked, licking his lips.

"Yeah, I mean, if you're comfortable."

I'm down."

I stopped rubbing his hard cock and pulled his sweatpants and boxers down. I was surprised when he took his hoodie off, too, exposing his naked, tattooed torso. I had told him in one of our previous conversations that I was really into nipples and that I would like to lick, suck, and nibble on his if he was comfortable with that; I appreciated him allowing me the opportunity. I slid out of my robe and started jerking him, feeling my mouth start to water.

As the woman in the porn started to moan, James leaned down and slipped me into his mouth. I was so taken aback that I didn't start on him right away. It had taken years to get Santiago to even touch my dick, let alone suck it, and there was James, definitely straight, sucking me off with the lights on. What bizarre parallel universe had I ended up in?

James was good -- not as good as Santiago -- I watched as he took his glasses off, the red mark on his hooked nose a reminder of where they had been. Was this really happening?

I grabbed his dick in my hand and started sucking it, too, trying to keep my pace slow so that he wouldn't cum too quickly. I figured once he'd busted a nut, he would no longer want to or feel comfortable touching me so intimately.

"Just let me know when you're about to cum," he said, popping me out of his mouth. "I don't think I'm ready for you to cum in my mouth."

"Fair enough," I replied, jerking his cock to keep it alert while we talked.

After a couple of minutes, he reached down and tapped my head. "I'm really close; I don't want to cum yet," he explained.

I respected that wholeheartedly, so I started to unenthusiastically stroke him.

"You can just lay back and let me suck you, if you want," he offered, shocking the hell out of me.

Had I turned James bisexual? Had these thoughts always floated around in his head? Was this a me specific thing? The questions whirled around in my brain as I settled back against the pillow. He took me into his mouth again.

I watched as he sucked, my hands rubbing his shoulders and chest. I pinched his nipples, chewing my lip as I felt them harden. I grew braver and reached back to rub his ass, the warm flesh so appealing to me in that moment. Part of me was tempted to see if he'd let me slip a finger into his warm, tight hole, but I figured that -- for now -- that was off the table. I didn't want to do too much too quickly and cause poor James to have a mental breakdown.

"I wish I had a pussy," I whispered, thrusting into his mouth as he sucked. He glanced up at me, his dark brown eyes burning with lust. "I'd love for you to eat me out and then fuck me, no condom."

"Wouldn't that be something?" he said, taking a breather. "I used to love eating pussy."

"I bet you were good at it, too."

"I never had any complaints."

I wasn't sure why the idea of straight guys eating pussy turned me on so much, but in the last year, it had popped into my fantasies more and more often, especially when I was pleasuring myself while thinking about my straight guy crushes like Sexy Daddy Justin. I'd even put on straight porn a few times to slap the ham to a pink pussy getting eaten.

I pulled James closer to me, so that he was kind of crouched over me as I started sucking him again. My hands reached around to squeeze his ass, encouraging him to give me all that he had. Fuck my mouth, Daddy, I thought, moaning low in my throat.

A minute or so later, he hopped down. "I'm still not ready to cum," he said apologetically.

"It's okay, I get it. Even if you did, you know I think that's hot as fuck," I reminded him, caressing his chest.

"Maybe I could try giving you a hand job?"

"Sure, if you want to. Do you want me to get some lube?"

"Yes, please."

I got up, the cold attacking my naked skin. I wanted to throw my bathrobe back on, but I figured I'd only be gone for half a minute or so. I remembered seeing a bottle of lube in my laundry room the other day. I quickly went in, but amidst the bottles of my perfumes -- mostly Ariana Grande, but one Kim Kardashian fragrance, and four Sarah Jessica Parker fragrances -- as well as all of my face creams and hair supplies, I couldn't find it.

I went back out with my vanilla cashmere lotion. It wasn't exactly the same as lube, but it would do in a pinch.

"That should work," James said, squirting some into his palm and rubbing it together to warm it up.

"I swear I just saw the lube the other day."

He grabbed my cock and started stroking. It felt good for the first few seconds, but then an odd, burning sensation set in. Not like a STD burn, but more like and Indian burn type of feeling. I glanced down to see if James was enjoying it; he was staring intently at my cock, his face expressionless. I thought about telling him it kind of hurt, but without lube, it was basically the only option. I was hoping I could force myself to remain turned on by his touch enough that I'd be able to finish. Jerking his cock, too, certainly helped.

I heard his breath start to grow fast and heavy, a sign that he was once again close. He reached down and grabbed my hand, stopping me from jerking him off.

"I want you to cum," I whimpered, rubbing his cock while his hand still rested on mine.

"Where?" he was practically panting at that point, the pleasure gripping him firmly.

"In my mouth, but like you were before, over me."

He stood over me, his cock dangling in front of my face. I started sucking it again, rubbing his cheeks. I heard him start to pant harder and cracked my eyes open. His hands were firmly planted on the wall, holding him up as he started to cum. He groaned loudly and started to twitch.

I almost choked when his thick load flooded my mouth. Last time, it had had a nice taste, but this time it was definitely not at all appealing. Still, I continued sucking, eliciting more trembles and groans from James.

As if I had sucked his soul and energy out along with his load, James collapsed onto the bed, breathing heavily. "That was amazing," he gasped, looking like -- temporarily -- all his cares had been washed away.

Despite the awful taste pervading my mouth, I grinned. I felt validated when I was able to make a straight guy feel amazing with my mouth. The hotter the guy, the more amazing and accomplished that I felt about it. I would never give up hope that one day, Sexy Daddy Justin would cave in and let me show him how head was supposed to feel like.

James put his glasses back on. "That put me right to sleep," he said, sighing with contentment.

"It is pretty late," I agreed, slinking back into my robe. "You don't have to hang around."

"I wanted to make you cum, though. I'd feel bad if I just ditched you."

"Oh, it's fine." I waved it off. "I'm pretty tired and you do have a half hour-ish drive home."

"You really don't mind?"

"I came when we were messaging," I reminded him. "It's not a big deal to me. I had fun."

Defeated, he pulled his clothes back on. "I haven't cum that hard in a long time," he said, grinning.

"I'm glad I could help."

We said our goodbyes and he left. I liked it so much better when the guy came and left; at least I didn't have to worry about James lingering for hours, struggling to cum. While Santiago was objectively better looking than James, had a bigger dick, and was better at giving head, James was the clear winner in that competition.

A few weeks later, James messaged me late at night, horny. Once again, he couldn't shower without waking the house up, but he was more than happy to talk dirty to me via Facebook messenger. He said that he thought it would be hot to come over and shower with me, to touch each other while we were all wet and naked. I couldn't lie, the idea did excite me. I'd only showered with one guy as an adult and it had not been the hot fantasy I'd envisioned it to be. With James, it was possible that I could actually enjoy it. If only I didn't have such a small supply of hot water.

As we exchanged pictures and videos of our cocks he asked me what I'd do if he just showed up at my apartment, pulled my robe open, dropped to his knees and started sucking me. Normally that would make me uncomfortable, but because I knew James and we had history, I suspected that I'd find it quite hot.

In the heat of our virtual passion, I broached the subject of making a video together. James said that he could definitely be persuaded to do it, as long as his face wasn't in it. I didn't want his face in it; I wanted him to record me sucking him.

The truth of the matter was, I was open to doing a lot more with James than I was with most guys. I know it was still early in our...whatever it was we had going on, but once it became routine, I would be open to a lot more. I definitely wanted to kiss him and bite his neck. I knew it was highly unlikely, but I defintitely would be down to have him eat me out. I'd even go so far as possibly letting him fuck me if the vibes were right; I was still half a virgin, and his dick was a decent size to try out bottoming. I told James, but he was hesitant, saying he'd tried anal with women and hadn't really liked it.

There were so many unanswered questions when it came to my relationship with James. I was enjoying this clandenstine, scandalous addition to our friendship, but I didn't want to do anything that would ultumately ruin our friendship. I liked that he trusted me as much as he did and was comfortable doing things to me as well as letting me blow him, but not at the expense of everything we'd built over the last six years. I knew that my romantic feelings for him were long dead, and that even if they weren't, James would never be open to anything like that with me.

I decided that I would continue to enjoy our hookups, but I would also continue to search for something more substantial, something more fulfilling than a quick blow and go. I knew that James wasn't using me and that he would never intentionally do anything to hurt me, but I also knew that ultimately he couldn't give me what I wanted; he was a good friend, as good as he could be given his disastrous mental health, but there was no way it would every be anything more than that. Maybe, in time he would get comfortable enough to try sex with me, but I also wondered if I really wanted to give up that sacred part of myself to someone who wouldn't and couldn't love like I wanted and deserved to be.

With my own seasonal depression kicking in, the outlook for finding a lover seemed grim. After all, when amidst my depression my sex drive vanishes and I tend to isolate; I sleep as much as humanly possible, I turn my phone on silent so my brooding can't be interrupted by notifications. I knew that, come spring, I would definitely be on the hunt again and that this down time was an era of self-reflection and rebirth. It wasn't right to start something up when I wouldn't even leave my apartment except to go to work, the post office, or the store. I could spend this time curating my next potential lover, taking the time to virtually get to know a guy before getting even remotely sexual -- much easier said than done.

As I settle into bed at the end of the night, I find that the cuddles from my cats are meeting my desire for cuddles. There's no risk of getting too attached and getting my heart broken, nor is there the body's natural response to get aroused. Cuddles with my babies are pure and healing and just what I need. I'm looking forward to spring and the potential to meet new guys, try my hand at dating again, but in the meantime I have the things I need to get me through. By spring, I could heal some of my traumas and learn from the mistakes I'd made with Max, ready to go out into the dating world with a fresh perspective and a more fearless attitude.