Burnham-on-Sea

Then he started sucking me in earnest, working his lips up and down my entire length and milking the head of it for precum with his tongue inside his mouth as he did so. Within just a couple of minutes, he'd developed a technique that made me gasp and squirm in a way that no girl has ever managed to achieve.

I panted, "Go for it, mate... fuckin' hell, Sarah Cox couldn't hold a flame to you..."

He laughed at that one, chuckling with my cock still sliding in and out of his mouth.

He started playing with my balls and tickling the hairy ridge between them and my arsehole as his mouth feasted on my engorged cock and I gasped for more.

When I came - and it didn't take long - I tried to pull it out from him, but he resisted me and kept sucking at it, swallowing the gushers of semen as they erupted in hot pulses from the head.

After my orgasm had subsided, he looked up at me with my cum around his grinning mouth and I laughed.

I asked what I could do for him and he said nothing. That had been my treat. "Next time, Ollie, if you want to, we can do more. But this time, I didn't want to freak you out again by showing you my cock..."

I wiped my wet bell-end, still gently oozing cum, with some tissue, and said, "I wasn't freaked out by your cock that morning you asked me to wank with you. Jesus, mate, when you've spent as many nights away with as many rugby teams as I have, the sight of a guy with a hard-on stops being such an issue..."

He looked puzzled; a little hurt, maybe. He asked, "So why did you say no when I asked you to?"

I shrugged, pulling my briefs back up to cover my softening cock. "You made it sound too serious. Tonight was just the two of us messing about. That's how it's got to be. If I meet a girl tomorrow, or you meet a guy, and this comes to an end, we both have to know we're not going to screw the other up. Does that kind of make sense?"

He nodded and I hitched up my jeans.

I smiled. "Anyway, next time we play around like this, we've got to think about how we're going to sort out Mr Collins Junior down there, okay?"

He glanced down at his crotch, smiled and nodded gratefully.

Then he said, "Actually, I'd have been too stressed out to have done anything to Mr Collins Junior tonight."

"Yeah, well, we'll have to see if we can sort that out too..."

And so that's how it was every evening over that October holiday. I'd pick Simon up at Burnham and then we'd drive up to Brean and play around in the car. Usually he'd suck me off and wank himself while he was doing it (often climaxing well before me as he did so) but once or twice I fucked him over the back seat of the car.

He wasn't the first guy I fucked but I treated him like he was. I thought it best he didn't know that I wasn't quite the straight-as-a-die friend that he always assumed I was. I thought it less likely that he'd end up developing emotional attachments to me that I knew I wouldn't be able to reciprocate.

At the end of the week he suggested coming to visit me the following weekend at Uni.

I said, "We never visit each other at Uni, Simon. We always meet at my place or in Burnham."

He shrugged. "Yeah, but I thought it might be nice."

I shook my head. "No. We keep things as they've always been. That was the agreement."

He nodded. "But, it's really good between us right now. I'll miss you..."

I felt like a bastard for being so cold with him, but I said, "Come on, Simon, mate. If you're gonna get all lovey-dovey with me, it's gonna screw us both up. I'm straight. You know that."

He looked surprised, "Yeah, I know, but -"

I cut in, "No - Simon. We'll meet up at Christmas. Next week, I'll be asking girls out and you'll hopefully be asking that guy out you think might swing both ways..."

He went quiet and looked upset.

I squeezed his shoulder. "Come on, mate. It's got to be like this. You knew that from the start. We can have a bit of fun together but that's all it can be... you've got to accept that or you're gonna mess yourself up and scare the hell out of me..."

He kept looking upset, trying to think of something to say, but then his face softened and he smiled weakly. He said, "Okay... sorry, Ollie. I was just being stupid. It's just that... well... I've enjoyed this week so much..."

"Yeah and I have too. And we'll do it again at Christmas if you're still up for it..."

He nodded. "Yeah, okay. Sorry. I've just got to keep telling myself you're straight. That's all..."

I nodded back.

And then we went our separate ways for a couple of months.

When Christmas came, Simon was still single but I had a girlfriend called Anna. Nevertheless, the two of us had more fun together, usually in his bedroom at Burnham, and I tried to explain to him the conclusion that I'd reached having mulled over and over what we'd done together in the car during that week in October. I told him - though I put it in terms rather more eloquent than this, of course - that my heart likes girls but my cock likes whatever's on offer. By the end of that Christmas holiday, I think he was beginning to understand what I meant and to accept how things were between us.

We've been mates ever since; almost certainly far stronger friends than we would have been without the physical side of our relationship. I don't see him as much these days as I used to as I'm living with a girl and he's with a guy, but when we do meet up we still enjoy playing around a little together.

One of these days we're going to have to draw and end to it and become conventional, bog-standard friends again. Meet up for picnics and barbecues with our partners, without sneaking off to have sex together at the first opportunity. Go round for dinner parties at each other's houses without him rubbing my crotch with his foot underneath the table. Actually start fishing with the rods we bought rather than just pretending to our partners that it's a Sunday afternoon hobby we both enjoy.

One of these days.

But not just yet.