Awake with Jake Pt. 03

With my dad, though, I had no doubt about which side of Marcus' shorts he'd be more interested in. I'd make sure the back of them were nice and flavoursome and I knew that rimming my mate's arse would be at the forefront of my dad's mind when he had them pressed to his nose and was 'interacting' himself off.

When I'd traipsed back to my room from the toilet, I gave Marcus my dressing gown so he could similarly nip out to prepare his bowels for their imminent invasion. If this was what butt-fucking involved - having to shit every time before you had sex - I couldn't see me getting into it. The awkwardness was bad enough, but having to remember to take a crap every time you felt horny - that seemed way too involved.

"Look, mate," I said, "maybe this isn't such a good time to do this. I mean, you've probably got stuff to do and I know how hungover you get after a heavy night..."

"Naah, I'm free all day, mate," he said, pulling on my dressing gown. "And I feel fine - not even a headache. If you're having second thoughts, though, just say..."

"Me? No... I'm well up for it... of course I am!" The state of my dick was saying otherwise, but I didn't want him to think I was backing out.

He smiled at me. "Let's just go for it, then, Jake. I mean, after all the stuff we've said - you know, actually discussing fucking each other - it's gonna get really uncomfortable between us if we don't do the deed."

"I know that... but when we first woke up you were a bit freaked out about it. I don't want to push things too far and too fast for you."

He nodded, tying up the belt to secure the front of my dressing gown. His hard-on made the material rise upwards but he didn't seem to care.

"I was mainly worried how you were feeling, to be honest, Jake. Since then we've laid down the ground rules and it feels okay to be doing stuff together... from what you said earlier, it makes good sense."

I wanted to say something but he put his arm on mine and stopped me. "Look, I'll just pop to the loo, mate, and then we'll get started. You'll feel better once we're doing it. It'll be fun... I promise..."

He left the room and that was when I first wondered if he'd done this before. He'd been to an all-boys' boarding school so it wasn't totally impossible that he'd played around a bit after lights-out. He seemed remarkably calm for someone about to have his first fuck with another guy, and how the hell could he be so sure that it would end up being fun for me too? How could he know something like that?

I sat down on my bed wondering how I was going to get out of this. What could I say? Sudden stomach trouble? A phone call from a dying aunt? What the fuck was I going to say to make him piss off without feeling too pissed off with me?

My dad was spunking up. I could hear his gasps and, perhaps only by suggestion, the splashing of his cum onto his stomach and chest. I wondered what mental picture had brought him to his climax: maybe me with my hairy arse-crack lowering itself down onto Marcus' face, or the thought of the two of us snogging like a couple of love-birds while we fingered each other.

Or perhaps he'd imagined us fucking. Yes, he's a big fan of anal sex so it could well have been that in his mind. He wasn't too bothered about which way around he "partook" as he called it. When I snuck a glance into his room when he had a bloke to stay-over these days, I was just as likely to find him on all-fours readily taking it as I was to find him banging away at an eagerly-splayed arse.

It was bizarre how he'd gone from being pretty much celibate, barring the attentions of his own hand and the occasional nutty woman he'd meet on a dating site, to bringing back men two or three times a week and regularly disappearing off with an overnight bag. Quite often they seem to be random hook-ups - God knows how he met them - but among his callers he has a few recurring faces: men who, like him, might not call themselves gay but nevertheless have a thing for sex with their own gender.

He didn't seem to have anyone in particular who he'd formed a special bond with, the way I had with Marcus. Well, he'd formed a friendship of sorts with the first bloke he'd got together with - the dad of my friend from school called Guy who he'd talked about downstairs - but, other than that, men just seem to come and go for him like ships in the night or whatever the saying is. It's just a sexual thing for him: a way of emptying his bollocks into someone or over someone with nothing more to it than that.

I suppose it's a bit like that for me too, but the difference is that I know or half-know most of the lads I cop off with. At the very least I know of them through a friend of a friend. My dad just brings these strangers home with him - he actually gets their names wrong most of the time - and then the two of them (or three of them) have a few drinks downstairs before retiring to bed to do the deed with me listening in the next room. The next morning we just move right on and the whole thing's quickly forgotten.

When Marcus came back from the loo, he threw my dressing gown on the floor to reveal that he was still rock hard. He can be horny fucker sometimes, but on that particular morning it didn't seem like such a good thing.

He walked over to my desk and picked up my tub of Vaseline. Smearing it on his dick he told me to get on all fours on the bed.

So that's what things had come to, was it? Having another lad tell me to bend over so he could butt-fuck me.

There seemed no point in trying any other ways of getting myself out of this. If I started coming up with any more excuses as to why he couldn't screw me, he was going to start getting salty and we'd end up falling out. That really was the last thing I wanted: to lose a good mate for the sake of not letting him do something I'd really wanted myself just twenty minutes ago.

I'd just have to get through this as best as I could. Lie back and think of England or whatever the expression was. Except in my case I'd be bending forwards and biting the pillow while I thought of queen and country.

I got on the bed and got back on all fours, and he climbed onto it behind me, still smearing Vaseline onto his hard-on.

"Come on, mate, it won't be that bad," he said, trying to encourage me. He was kneeling behind me with a cock coated in Vaseline, working out how best to slide it up my butt, and now he was trying to cheer me up. Good strategy, dude.

"You seem really calm, Marcus," I observed. "I'm tense as fuck - about to get shagged up my arse for the first time."

"Years of practice, mate," he chuckled. "When I was at boarding school, I worked my way through every lad in my dorm!"

"What!?" I exclaimed, turning around in horror. So he'd been lying, had he? I knew it! He'd been boning every butt in the fucking school!

He chuckled at my expression. "Of course I didn't, Jake! This is new for me too... I swear to God. I told you before - it wasn't that sort of school. I'm a total novice, mate... at least in this respect."

Persuaded he was telling the truth, I faced forwards again. "Don't do that to me, Marcus. Not right now... not like this. It's not fucking funny."

"Okay, sorry," he said, and shuffled up behind me.

That was all I needed. As if it wasn't bad enough that I was about to have my arse screwed, he starts clowning around just to make it even worse.

The insertion itself was brief. He pushed his dick into me with one quick lunge - the Vaseline really did its job - and then, with a hand on my hip and the other holding my shoulder, we just stayed like that for a minute, as if we couldn't believe that we were actually joined together: two lads connected cock to bum.

"I'm fucking you, Jake," he whispered down to me. Like I wouldn't have noticed; like I'd be really be that dippy.

But I was too wound up to reply; too wrapped up in the sensations I was getting. It felt weird to have him inside me - to actually have his knob inside my butt - but at the same time there were lots of other feelings going on: electrical impulses firing off from places I hadn't known I had; shivers surging up my spine in way I'd never experienced.

It sounds corny as fuck - I know, I've read other guys' first-time stories - but I suddenly felt totally different. Sexually reborn sounds too religious; sexually re-energised sounds like I'm a Duracel battery. But that's the image I'm trying to convey: suddenly, right out of the blue, I felt like this was some totally new part of me that I hadn't known existed and I could tell that, once we got going, this was going to be cranked-up-to-eleven exciting.

He said, "Are you okay, Jake? I can take it out if you like..."

"Just do it," I said, struggling with the sensations that were charging through me, eager to know what else I was going to feel. "Just fuck me, mate. Do it now."

He started easing in and out of me, slowly at first, and I shuddered with every stroke he made.

"If it's really that awful, Jake, just tell me and I'll stop, mate. I don't want to hurt you, dude."

The feel of him inside me was incredible. Every time he slid his cock into me, I had that breath-taking sensation tingling through me. I'd told him about the male prostate gland and I figured that's what must be causing this: his dick must be rubbing against it inside me, making me tremble with excitement.

Was this how a girl felt when she had a guy inside her pussy, I wondered? I had no idea, but I could feel that my own cock was responding to the feelings I was getting from my bum. It was getting quickly longer and harder and starting to rise up between my legs.

Marcus paused with his dick buried right up me.

"Are you okay, mate?" he asked. "I really don't want to do this if it's hurting you."

"Feel my cock, Marcus," I managed to whisper.

He leant down across my back and groped underneath me, quickly locating my growing hard-on. He laughed at the feel of it, pleased that I was becoming aroused by what he was doing.

"I knew you'd like it, Jake! I knew you'd enjoy it once we got started!"

"How?" I gasped. "How did you know that?"

A suspicion that he'd done this before was still lurking at the back of my mind.

"You've seen gay stuff on the web, mate," he explained. "You've seen how it works. The guy getting fucked always ends up getting horny for it."

He fondled my cock, squeezing it and gently easing the foreskin back and forth, chuckling against my back at how fast it was growing in his hand. He started fucking me again, more quickly and confidently now, and then surprised me by kissing me between my shoulder blades.

"This feels so nice, Jake," he whispered. "Your arse is so tight... it actually feels better than a minge."

I'd laughed at that. "Is that what you're thinking of it as?"

"Weirdly, no. I'm thinking of it as your butt. And I'm enjoying it as that; enjoying the fact that I'm fucking you as another guy and that I'm doing it up your arsehole."

And that's how it always went from then on when we had sex: we wouldn't think of each other as girl-substitutes; we'd have sex as two guys and enjoy each other's cocks and bums for what they were. It seemed a whole lot better that way.

He took his hand off my cock and pushed himself upright behind me. Grabbing my hips again, he started fucking me properly, making firm rapid thrusts and using the whole length of his dick.

It felt amazing to have him slamming in and out of me like that. I writhed underneath him and heard myself gasping in pleasure.

"Oh Jesus!" he called out. "This feels so fucking good!"

I pushed my bum back against him, pumping his cock with the tightness of my ring - wanking him off using my arse muscles. I reached underneath myself and did the same to my own cock, only using my hand and a more conventional technique.

"It's totally unlike sex with a girl," he gasped, shafting me as roughly could and making his bollocks slap against my thighs. "The feel of it... the smell of it... there's no way you could imagine this was straight sex, mate!"

I pushed myself upright so that we were kneeling together, my back against his chest. He grabbed me tightly with both arms and drove even faster in and out of me. Still wanking myself, I met his every thrust with a sharp jab of my butt-cheeks, working against him to maximise the pleasure we were both feeling.

I loved that I could do this to him: use my butt to really crank up the intensity of his fuck. It would never have occurred to me that I could use my arse muscles to jerk off another guy's dick and, even more than that, what an amazing feeling I would get from doing it. Every time he rammed his cock up me, I got this incredible sensation from pushing back against it and squeezing my butt-hole around it; it made jerking my cock feel way, way better than it ever had.

Panting against the back of my neck, he muttered, "Jesus, Jake - I'm gonna fucking cum!"

I bent forwards again to open my arse up for him and he grabbed me by the shoulders for better leverage. His cock hammered in and out of me so hard that the bed started creaking in a way that would make it obvious to the whole flat that the two of us were having sex.

I suddenly wondered if I'd locked the door of my room. If some smart-arse were to open it, the whole flat would see us in this, the gayest of all gay positions. Me on all fours with Marcus upright behind me. And my dick hard and throbbing while his drove relentlessly in and out of my splayed-open butt.

Everyone would know me and Marcus had done it butt-style but as Craig had said, I didn't give a fuck.

He started grunting like a pig and then I felt his hot wetness squirting up inside me. He was shooting his spunk up my butt and it felt surprisingly pleasant.

"Aah!" he called out, between heaving breaths. "Aah, yeah! Jesus, yeah!"

He grabbed more shoulders more firmly and slammed his dick right up inside me, holding it there, buried to the hilt, while he discharged the last remnants of his cum from his balls. I could actually feel it spurting up into my bowels; feel it shooting in surges up my butt.

Considering we'd both spunked up the previous night, his orgasm was incredibly copious. But that became a recurrent feature of our sex: no matter how many times the two of us cum together, we can always manage one more and our balls never fail to deliver yet another bountiful load.

Like mine, his bollocks are good at working over-time, churning out sperms as fast as we can despatch up them up each other's butts.

In my bed at home, lying behind him, all these thoughts of that first morning we did stuff together were making my cock ache. I can remember my first time with a girl - which guy can't? - but that first time with another guy never fails to get me horny when I think about it.

My cock strained against his backside. It was going to need me to sort it out before it was going to let me get any sleep.

Especially if I were to keep thinking of what we'd done that morning. After all, as far as I was concerned, the best part was yet to come.

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To be continued

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