My Best Friend Asked Me for Something I Didn’t Expect

I wake up with an erection hard as a rock. Diego is still asleep in the bed next to mine, so I grab my phone and kill time with a couple of games until I hear him stretch himself awake.

—Losing again? —he asks in a thick voice.

—Shut up, I’d wipe the floor with you, kid.

He doesn’t press it. I think he’s going to say something about last night, but he just stares at the ceiling. What happens here stays here, I guess.

We spend the morning at his place. His parents insist I stay for lunch and, after letting mine know, I agree. Around five in the afternoon I head home.

Mateo is on the sofa glued to my dad, watching cartoons. My father has his eyes closed, but he greets me as soon as I come in.

—How was it, son?

—Fine —I say with a shrug—. The console, a while at the park, and not much else.

I sit down next to Mateo, who immediately curls up and rests his head on my thigh, too close to my crotch. I stroke his hair.

—And what are your plans today?

—I’m meeting a classmate to do a school project.

My dad looks at me with a sly smile.

—You’ve only just started the school year and already a project? If I didn’t know you, I’d think it was an excuse.

—She’s just a classmate, Dad.

—Yeah, yeah. But if you like her, go for it.

Carla appears at that moment, says goodbye, and lets us know she’s going to Ivan’s place.

—Protection, daughter —says my dad.

—Dad! —she protests, rolling her eyes.

When she leaves, my father turns to me.

—You too, huh? It’s still early, but just in case.

—Dad, drop it —I look at the TV, uncomfortable—. Thanks.

At six-thirty I get Lucia’s message. We arrange to meet in half an hour. She gives me the address and at seven I’m knocking on her door. Her father opens it, looking me up and down as if he’s sizing me up. He must approve, because he smiles and invites me in.

Lucia appears down the hallway in an oversized T-shirt and her hair tied up. She lives on the second floor, with her parents and a brother. I catch a glimpse of him as I pass by her room.

—Hi, I’m Nico.

—Leave him be —Lucia says—. He’s glued to TikTok.

I don’t get to notice much else. We go into her room and, in the two hours it takes us to finish the project, we talk about everything. Music, teachers, fears, plans. When I leave, she has a different smile.

—That was nice, Nico. I think we’re going to get a good grade.

I blush and my dimples show.

—Yeah, it turned out cool.

I wait a couple of seconds by the door. Her parents are in the living room, watching TV.

—See you in class —she says.

I nod. Lucia closes the door. As I go downstairs, my chest burns in a weird way.

I liked it. A lot. But what happened last night with Diego also felt good, and I can’t make sense of that. Which of the two did I like more? Is it normal to feel both at once? My phone vibrates. It’s Lucia.

“If we have another project, should we work together?”

“Sure,” I reply instantly.

She reacts with a thumbs-up emoji. I text the group chat where Diego, Marco, and Aitor are.

“Tomorrow?”

***

We meet on Sunday in the late afternoon at the mall, fifteen minutes from my house. I tell them about Lucia while Aitor fusses with his fringe in front of a shop window.

—Not bad, asshole —he says—. You’ll be getting laid before long.

—We should see him try —Marco teases.

He imitates the way I talk and all four of us crack up. Marco is the funny one in the group. He came from Italy four years ago, but he already talks like any other Spaniard. He has curly hair, green eyes, and a body defined from so much judo and tennis. Aitor, on the other hand, is the boss. The one who decides where we go. Blond, short hair, eyes somewhere between blue and honey. I’ve never seen eyes like his on anyone else.

After ice cream and a while wandering around, Aitor suggests going up to his place. His parents have taken Lola, his little sister, to visit their grandparents.

—But just for a bit, okay? At eight I’m kicking you out.

We get to his living room and play a round of FIFA. Then we end up sprawled on the floor, hands in our pants doing nothing in particular.

—You’d all be into a group wank —Marco blurts out—. I haven’t wanked in two days and I’m about to explode. My balls feel like they’re dragging on the ground.

We’ve already done it several times. The first time, with a blanket over all of us so we wouldn’t see each other. The last few, without the blanket, except for Aitor, who never pulls his out.

We lower the blinds, put on a video of a girl swallowing two cocks at once, and settle on the sofa. Aitor at one end, covered with a blanket. Beside him Diego, then me, and Marco at the other end. The three of us whip ours out with a jittery laugh. Still flaccid, but you can already tell Diego’s isn’t like ours: it hangs thick and heavy between his legs, the foreskin rolling back on its own as the blood fills the head.

When we get hard, I can’t help looking at Marco’s. I estimate about five and a half inches, curved to the left, with a bit of black hair at the base and a thick vein running along the top. He’s circumcised, with a pink glans already shining from a clear drop peeking out of the meatus. Marco lifts his shirt and shows off his abdomen, defined as always, and spits into his palm before starting to jerk himself with his right hand, slow up and down, squeezing hard when he gets to the head. Diego is already going at it hard, gripping his cock with both hands because one isn’t enough for him to wrap around.

Then Diego gives me a mischievous look, yanks down Aitor’s blanket, and covers both of us. Marco glances at us, but doesn’t make a big deal of it; he’s too focused on the video, where a blonde is swallowing a cock down to the balls while another girl licks the same guy’s balls.

Diego keeps jerking off, but I feel his hand on my thigh. My breath catches. I panic that the others will see what’s happening down there, but the blanket covers us. Diego’s fingers circle my cock, squeeze it, and start moving up and down slowly, his palm wet with spit and precum. I let out my breath all at once and Aitor gives us a quick look before going back to the video.

I return the favor. I slip my hand under the blanket and wrap it around Diego’s cock. It feels hot and hard, thicker than I expected, with the foreskin drawn back and the head soaked, an enormous head filling my palm. My fingers bump into his when we go down to the base. We look at each other: accomplices. I start stroking his cock, sliding up to cover his glans with the foreskin and back down again to expose it, the move that drives me crazy when I do it to myself. Diego lets out a broken sigh and grips mine tighter, setting the rhythm with his thumb over the tip, smearing precum all over my crown.

—Pull yours out already, Aitor —Marco insists, already working two fingers beneath his glans—. We’re among friends, for fuck’s sake.

—Shut up and watch the video —he cuts in, distant as always.

I start to think he’s self-conscious. That maybe he doesn’t have a big one. I look at Marco, who keeps going without noticing anything, legs open and cock curved toward the ceiling.

—It’s big, isn’t it? —he says, pointing to his dick and jerking it a couple of times against his belly so the fleshy slap can be heard.

—Not bad —I answer, indifferent, even though I can’t take my eyes off his cock.

—If you want to touch it, go ahead. I can tell how much you’ve been staring at it, fag —the insult comes out between laughs, with no malice.

I think about it for two seconds. Maybe this is the chance. I bring my right hand over and he moves his away. I wrap my hand around his cock, feeling the thickness, feeling the thick vein pulsing against my thumb. Without really knowing how, I’ve got Diego’s cock in my left hand and Marco’s in my right, both hot, both soaked in precum, both pushing against my fist looking for more friction.

—I knew you were a little fairy —Marco says, amused, leaning back on the sofa to give me a better angle—. But hey, I’m not judging you. If you want, you can suck it too.

—You’re dreaming —I answer. That would be crossing a line I’m not willing to cross. At least not now.

I keep jerking both of them off while Diego jerks me off under the blanket. I give Marco a fast rhythm, twisting my wrist on the way up to massage his head, just the way I like it. Diego gets a slower, firmer stroke, squeezing the base every time I reach the bottom so his cock swells even more in my hand. Marco, fully turned on now, slips his left hand under and strokes my thigh, near my pubic area; then he moves up to brush my balls with his fingertips and weighs them for a second, as if measuring them, and mutters, “Damn, you’ve got them full,” under his breath. The four of us breathe harder and harder. The living room smells of sweat, cock, and that metallic note of precum.

Diego grips me harder, runs his thumb over my frenulum again and again, and I feel everything below my stomach tighten. In my left hand, Diego’s cock gets hard as a rock, a vein bulging underneath and the head turning purple.

Aitor lifts the blanket just in time to avoid a mess. I catch a glimpse: he does have a big one, fuck, bigger than he’d said, and he’s shooting load in thick spurts against his own hand.

—Oh… —he slows to a stop, panting.

Marco comes next. He moves my hand away from his cock, but keeps his on my thigh. He jerks himself furiously, spitting into his palm again, and in four strokes he comes over his stomach: three long, thick white spurts that stain him from navel to chest. He pulls his hand away a second before Diego and I finish too, almost at the same time. I feel Diego’s cock throbbing in my fist and suddenly he shoots upward, a jet bursting out with force and landing over his hand and my fingers, hot and viscous. I come a second later: the first drop flies out and lands right on my upper lip. I catch it with my tongue, salty, warm. Diego keeps squeezing me until I give him the last drop over my thumb.

—Fuck —Marco says, his belly full of cum—, best wank of my life. Being touched is insane.

—Don’t get used to it —I tell him, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand—. I don’t even know why I did it.

—Yeah, yeah…

—Couple of fairies —Aitor laughs, standing up and tucking his still-dripping cock away—. I’m going to clean up. Tidy up, since my parents take their naps here.

***

The week goes by slowly. Lucia looks for me in class. I notice it. She sits nearby, brushes against me when she passes, looks at me when she thinks I can’t see her. I haven’t talked to her privately again, but something is shifting.

On Friday I text her on WhatsApp to ask about the homework. The oldest excuse in the world. She answers in two minutes, enthusiastically. We talk for a while and run out of things to say. I don’t force anything else.

It’s Diego who texts me.

“You coming?”

We weren’t supposed to meet until tomorrow. I send back “I’m on my way” and ten minutes later I’m at his door. He opens it. Silence throughout the house.

—Aren’t your parents home?

—Nope —and he points to the living room with a smile.

On the TV he has a video of two girls sucking a guy off. He must have hooked up the computer.

—Damn, you’re not even trying to hide it —I tell him—. You’ve gotten a taste for last weekend, haven’t you?

—I’m not going to deny it —he laughs—. Shall we start?

I don’t answer. I pull my pants down to my ankles, along with my underwear. I’m only half-hard, but I can feel it rising, swelling against my thigh. Diego takes his off too; he’s rock hard, his cock pointing at the ceiling and the head peeking out thick between the foreskin halfway down. I can feel him trembling. He’s up to something.

We sit down. Him on my left. He hits play and lets his right leg rest over my left, skin to skin. He looks at me. I’m the one who reaches first. He does the same. His hand wraps around almost all of my cock, squeezing it until I let out a gasp, and he starts stroking it, thumb pressed hard over the vein on top.

He jerks me off for a minute without paying attention to the video. I do the same with his: I pull the foreskin all the way back and run my finger around the edge of the head, circling until a thick drop of precum escapes. I spread it all over the tip and use it as lubricant. Diego exhales through his nose, eyes closed. He inhales. He’s about to say something.

—Nico —he starts, shyly. He stops moving—. Do you…?

—Do I what?

—This week I’ve been thinking… This is fucking amazing, but…

—But what, Diego.

—You’re my best friend —he starts again—. What I’m about to ask you stays between us, okay? —he swallows. Three seconds of silence—. Nico, will you suck my dick?

I look at him. He smiles bashfully and drops his gaze. We keep holding each other’s cocks.

—Are you sure? —he nods without looking at me. He’s red—. And if I say yes, but only if you suck mine after?

Now he looks at me. In the dim light I can’t make out what his eyes are saying.

—It kind of grosses me out —he admits—, but I want to know what it feels like.

The video keeps playing. Nobody pays it any attention.

—Okay —I say, letting out a breath—. I’m going.

I kneel between his legs. He shifts, opens up wide, and lifts the hem of his shirt to his nipples so he won’t stain it. He’s trembling. So am I. It’s going to be the first dick I ever suck, and it’s going to be my best friend’s. Part of me wants to run away. The rest is dying to do it.

I feel the cold floor on my knees. I hold his member with my right hand; my left rests on the sofa. We look at each other. We smile like idiots.

I bring my mouth closer. Up close, it’s enormous, much thicker than it looked in my hand. The head shines, swollen and purple, with a clear drop hanging from the meatus. After two seconds taking in what I’m about to do, I stick out my tongue and run it over the tip, catching that drop. It tastes salty, a little bitter. Diego lets out a “fuck” between his teeth. I open my mouth and take him in. I wrap my lips around him, without tongue yet, feeling the warm thickness pushing against my palate. It still grosses me out, but I force myself to go a little deeper.

—Oh… —he sighs right away.

I laugh, more from nerves than anything else. Diego catches it. I go back to sucking him clumsily, sliding my tight lips up and down over the head, feeling him swell even more inside my mouth. I feel his fingers gently pulling my left hand away. He wants a better view of what I’m doing.

He rests that same hand on my head and pushes downward, firm but gentle. I try to open my throat. His cock hits the back of my palate and makes me gag; I pull back for a second, strings of saliva hanging between my lips and his head, breathe, and go back down. I can’t take him all in. There are still a couple of fingers’ width left at the base.

—Hm… —he moans again, head thrown back.

I smile around him.

—This is insane —he whispers, as if speaking loudly would break the moment—. Take more of it, damn it.

Something swells inside me. I’m giving him pleasure and I like it. I soak his cock in saliva, smearing my chin and lips, letting a thick strand drip down his shaft to his balls. When I try to take a little more with my tongue, sucking hard as I come up, he throws his head back and looks at the ceiling with his mouth open. I must be doing something right.

I keep going. I pull his cock out of my mouth and give the underside vein a long lick, from his balls to the head. I repeat, slower, stopping at the frenulum, teasing it with the tip of my tongue. Diego lets out a longer moan, his voice breaking. I try pushing his cock toward his stomach to reach his balls. I give the sac a couple of licks, sucking the wrinkled skin. Diego laughs, the nerves gone now. When I take his balls into my mouth, I pull too hard.

—Ow! —he complains—. Better go back to what you were doing before.

I return to the cock. Now I take him more easily, letting him sink into my mouth until my nose almost touches the hair. Diego invites me onto the sofa. I sit beside him and take him in again, this time without hands, testing with my lips, letting him set the pace. He takes the chance to wrap an arm around my waist and start jerking me off slowly, his fingers slick with my own precum.

—Uf… —he moans—. Stroke it while you do it.

I do as he says. The base with my hand, squeezing well, up and down in sync with my mouth; the tip with my mouth, sucking every time I reach the head, twisting my wrist on the way up. His glans bumps against my tongue with every downward stroke and I can feel his vein pulsing under my lips.

—Holy shit, this is crazy —he whispers, and gives a brief laugh—. The way you suck me, fuck.

I laugh with my mouth full. Every time he says something, everything in me surges. I’m going to burst. I let Diego’s cock out of my mouth for a second to spit all over it and go back down; the strand of saliva slides down the whole shaft and soaks his balls. Diego pushes his hips up and slides a little farther into me than I can take; I gag again, but I hold it.

I speed up the stroke. He speeds up his on me too, his hand closed in a tight fist around my head, twisting with each upward pull. His free hand messes up my hair with a tenderness I didn’t expect, and suddenly he grabs my neck and sets the rhythm, moving my head up and down on his cock.

—Keep going, bro —he asks in a murmur—. Don’t stop, fuck, don’t stop.

I feel everything at once. His cock wet in my mouth, my cock in his clenched hand, our skin rubbing together, the smell of semen and sweat in my nose. We’re one.

Then I explode. Diego’s hand squeezes me just below the head and makes me burst. I stain his hand with a short spurt, then another longer one that runs down his wrist. Diego warns me with a growl, tugging my hair, and I pull back just in time. He lets go of my cock, takes it himself, and in three strokes comes over his stomach: one long jet that reaches his chest, then two shorter ones, a thick, white load forming little pools between his abs. He gets every last drop out, thick and dangling from the head. He milks it all out with two fingers, squeezing what’s left against his own belly.

Silence. Only our breathing. Me with my lips shiny with saliva and precum, him with his cock still hard, dripping over his belly full of cum.

—Uf… Fuck —is all he says.

I let out a small, nervous laugh.

—I’m going to clean up —I announce, standing.

—Nico —he calls before I move away—. About me doing it…

—Don’t stress. It’s fine.

I lock myself in the bathroom. It’s contradictory, after what we just did, but the bathroom is the only privacy I have left. I look at myself in the mirror. My chin is shiny, there’s a string of dried saliva at the corner of my mouth, my lips swollen and red from friction.

What did I just do? This is wrong. I shouldn’t have done it. How am I supposed to look him in the face now?

I come out. Diego has wiped himself with paper towels and is sitting on the sofa. He’s raised the blinds a little. The TV is off.

—Hey, I think I’m going home.

—Why? We still have Clash matches left.

—Nah, I’m wiped out.

When I’m about to leave, he calls me.

—Nico. You okay?

I look at him. He’s a silhouette in the dimness. You okay? I don’t know.

—Yeah, of course. See you tomorrow.

“Bye, bro,” I hear him say when I close the door.

I walk home with my chest burning. I shouldn’t feel like this. Diego doesn’t feel like this. Why do I? For him it was just a way to pass the time. Why was it more for me?

I don’t like my friend, that much I know. But my chest is beating strangely.

My phone vibrates. It’s Diego.

“Dude, you sure you’re okay?”

I leave him on read until I get to my building.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m tired, hahaha”

He doesn’t reply. I go into the house and hear quick footsteps. It’s Mateo, running toward me.

—Nico, Nico! Guess who came over?