Straight Guys Messing Around, Part 3
submitted April 4, 2005
It must have been close to half past four by the time I pulled on my briefs and staggered across the corridor into the bathroom Ed shared with his flatmates. I needed to take a leak and wash my face before the two of us tried to get some sleep.
I felt exhausted.
I couldn't believe what Ed and I had done, even though the throbbing from my arsehole and the soreness of my cock told me that it had really happened. We must have fucked each other from every possible angle and in every possible orientation. And for nearly two hours solid.
It just didn't seem real; I just couldn't accept that I'd really gone through with having sex with him.
I mean, Ed and I knew each other from way back. We'd been mates since school. We'd dated girls from pretty much the same age; developed crushes on the same female teachers; and now we both had girlfriends, albeit unsatisfactory ones.
So how had we ended up - during my apparently innocuous visit to see Ed at University - taking turns at screwing each other's arses?
I stared at myself in the mirror above the sink while I waited for the water from the tap to warm up. I looked ashen.
It occurred to me that the beer we'd been drinking might have had something to do with our behaviour. It was an imported brand; pretty strong stuff. We just weren't used to it; it was as simple as that.
I brightened up momentarily.
But, then, reason crept back in.
Who was I trying to kid?
Guys normally behave like wankers when they get too pissed: they moon out of windows; start fights without provocation and vomit over each other. They don't start fucking each other like dogs. Not straight guys like Eddie and I.
It just doesn't happen. The beer wasn't an excuse.
I got bored waiting for the water to warm up. A splash of cold water on my face might do me good, anyway.
I pushed the plug into the basin and waited for the water fill it up a little.
A guy came into the bathroom behind me.
At first I thought it was Ed, but then I saw that it was one of his flatmates; a short, handsome-looking guy wearing just a pair of loose, baggy boxers.
He grinned at me inexplicably.
I half-smiled back.
He chuckled, "You look knackered... it sounded like you guys were pretty busy in there..."
I think I just gawped at him and blushed. Had we been so loud that the whole flat had heard us?
He must be referring to something else, I told myself. Our drinking, maybe.
I stuttered, "Er... yeah... we... er... got through quite a few cans..."
He looked a little puzzled but kept grinning and walked over to the toilet. He didn't close the cubicle door, but just pulled out his dick and urinated into the bowl. I noticed that his dick was quite short but very thick and the exposed glans was helmet-shaped.
He looked back over at me. "I thought you guys were gonna go on all night..."
Again, I felt myself blush. I turned off the tap and splashed some water across my face to hide it. He couldn't be referring to the two of us having sex, could he? I mean, Ed's flatmates must know he's straight; surely they wouldn't be so casual about him and another guy taking turns at each other's arses for half the night, would they?
I muttered, "Yeah... er... sorry if we kept you awake..."
He grinned more broadly. "No problem, mate. Just invite me to join in with you guys, next time..."
I shrugged, "Er... what do you mean?"
He laughed. "Well... you know... most of us in this flat kind of think 'two's company' but 'three's even better'... know what I mean...?"
I guess I just stared at him like a fish, wondering what the hell he could be referring to if not the fact that Ed and I had been having sex.
He finished off pissing and shook his cock a couple of times, spraying the last few dribbles into the bowl. "Where did you guys meet, then? 'Gales?"
I didn't know what he meant; I was feeling like I must look totally square at becoming bewildered by his apparently straightforward comments. "'Gales?"
"Yeah... you know... Nightingales... in town..."
I shrugged. "I'm not from around here, actually. I'm here visiting Ed..."
He looked surprised. "Oh right... are you guys mates from school, then?"
"Yeah... I've known Ed for years..."
He nodded. "I didn't realise... right... it's nice you guys have kept it going, then..."
I knew I was just staring at him gormlessly, but I couldn't think of anything to say. My mind was churning up possible non-sexual explanations about what was going on here only to dismiss them as ridiculous before trawling up something else.
I muttered, "Yeah... I guess..."
He walked back over to the bathroom door and then turned back to say, "You know what I said about us joining in with each other and stuff... that was just a joke... you know... I just didn't realise you and Ed were... you know..."
He obviously thought I did know because he smiled, threw me a thumbs-up and left the bathroom.
I just stared at the back of the closed door, still trying to figure out what was going on.
When I got back into Ed's room, I was almost knocked over by the smell from our sex. I suppose I must have grown accustomed to as it had developed earlier, but now the whole room seemed to be filled with its thick, cloying odour. Two hours of having our backsides penetrated had given the air a pungeant, anal hum and behind that, much less intrusive, was the sharper tang from our cocks and our cum. The smell of the aftermath of gay sex, I thought; or, at least, gay sex the way Ed and I had done it.
I started saying, "Jesus... Ed -" but stopped when I saw that Ed had collapsed on his bed, still naked, and was asleep. His cock, with milky brown semen drying on its tip, flopped heavily on his thigh and his large balls sagged down between his half-open legs.
I walked across the room and opened the window. The room urgently needed some fresh air.
After I'd put the light out and got into my sleeping bag, I lay for a while watching the wall next to me become slowly lighter in the growing dawn and listening to the birds outside becoming increasingly noisy.
I was thinking of what Ed and I had done; whether we would be able to be comfortable around each other after this. And what the guy in the bathroom had said; what exactly he could have meant.
I decided, as sleep was finally beginning to draw close, that I'd try to act normally with Ed the following morning. I couldn't pretend that nothing had happened, but I could make out it was no big deal to me.
But then I started wondering: why was it a big deal to me? Did it really have to be? I mean, we'd both known what we were doing and had agreed from the outset that we'd simply experiment with one another as two close friends. Maybe I shouldn't be feeling so... I dunno... not 'ashamed', exactly... but... well, maybe 'incredulous'... yeah... maybe I shouldn't be feeling so incredulous about what we'd done.
Maybe I should just accept what had happened and forget about it, as though having sex with Ed would have as little impact on our friendship as the couple of times we'd done sexual stuff when we'd been at school.
It would be hard but, after talked about ordinary stuff for a while, we'd soon put it past us. It wasn't as if gay sex was some unthinkable social taboo - I'd seen guys having sex before and I knew Ed had - and our friendship was strong enough to survive a single night of horseplay getting out of hand.
After a half hour, I was starting to feel more relaxed about it; relaxed enough to get some sleep, anyhow.
I thought blearily about the stuff that the guy in the bathroom had been whittering on about and decided he'd probably just been trying to wind me up. He'd probably heard a few noises from Ed's room and was seeing what he could find out to tell Ed's mates the next day.
The jokes and comments from that direction would be for Ed to sort out.
I pulled something out of my rucksack - a sweatshirt or something - to cover my head and block out the growing noise and light.
Then I must have fallen asleep.
Any hope of talking about ordinary stuff with Ed the next morning was ruled out as soon as I awoke.
He must have been bending to pull on a pair of briefs when he let out a loud fart.
I opened my eyes narrowly and croaked, "Jesus, Ed... you've got a fucking guest, man..."
Ed grinned at me, pulling his briefs up his thighs with his large cock swinging around. "Sorry, mate. I was gonna leave you to sleep for a while..."
"Your... er.. dawn chorus kind of spoilt that..."
He laughed. "It's your fault... your dick must have loosened it up... normally I'm pretty good at controlling myself..."
And I winced, thinking, "He's not gonna let me forget about last night..."
Ed must have seen my expression because he said, "Come on, Seb... it wasn't that bad, was it?"
I shook my head. "It's not that... I just can't believe we did it, to be honest..."
Ed finished tucking himself into his briefs. "Yeah... it was pretty good, though, wasn't it? I mean, you did enjoy it...?"
I shrugged. "I dunno... yeah, I guess..."
Ed chuckled. "Come on... you could try to sound a bit more enthusiastic... I was hoping you might be up for a repeat performance..."
That made me sit up in my sleeping bag. "I don't think so, Ed. It was a one-off, okay... we both got pissed and messed around a bit... end of story..."
Ed shrugged. "Whatever. But you're not gonna get all funny on me, are you?"
"No... of course not. It's no big deal, really. But that's the end of it, okay?"
Ed looked a little pissed off. "Yeah, okay. I get the message..."
He muttered something about taking a shower and headed out of the room.
I got out of my sleeping bag, thinking that his behaviour was a little odd.
Had he been hoping that we would start having sex regularly? It seemed absurd: apart from the fact that we'd agreed from the outset that last night would simply be a chance for us to try a few things we normally wouldn't, we were both straight. And yet now here he was acting like a rejected lover.
I pulled on a teeshirt and, intending to go into the shared kitchen to make a coffee, glanced at myself in the mirror on Ed's desk to make sure I didn't look too dishevelled.
That's when I noticed the scrunched-up note on his desk.
I only looked at it because I knew it hadn't been there the night before: I don't normally sneak a look at other people's stuff. But I was sure that when we'd got in and put the cans on Ed's desk, there'd been nothing on it. That's what had made me curious.
I almost didn't read it when I saw it had been written by Catherine, Ed's girlfriend. I kind of wish, in a way, that I hadn't.
But the first line caught my attention. It read: "Came round at 10 as planned."
It was only when I read that that I remembered she'd arranged to come around; she'd done it the night before when Ed and I had been in the pub with her and Shannon.
And then I remembered that Ed and I had planned to be pretending to have sex when she turned up. That was what had started us messing around together.
I glanced at the clock. It was now almost one in the afternoon. She must have been around three hours ago while we were both dead to the world and left the note for Ed to find.
Intrigued, I read on: "Looks like you owe me one! Call me sometime. Catherine"
There were many explanations as to what the note could have meant but, coupled with Ed's odd behaviour that morning and the conversation with the guy in the bathroom in the middle of the night, it started to dawn on me what I'd got myself into.
I didn't know who Catherine was, but she sure as hell wasn't Ed's girlfriend. In fact, it looked like there hadn't been many of those since he'd left school.
I stumbled out of Ed's room into the corridor and found my way to the shared kitchen to make myself a coffee before I got the hell out of there.
A few guys were in it, watching TV and making breakfast.
They glanced over at me as I walked into the room and then did a double-take and looked me up and down when they saw I was a stranger wearing only his underwear.
I muttered, "I wanna make some coffee, if that's okay with you guys..." I recognised one of the guys watching TV to be the one I met in the bathroom during the night.
The guy making breakfast smiled at me and offered to make me a cup. He sounded camp.
He said, "You staying with Ed?"
He chuckled and said, "Funny... he doesn't normally go for blonds..."
The guy from the bathroom interrupted him. "Pete... this guy has known Ed... you know... long-term..."
The guy making breakfast dropped his smile instantly; like he'd made a terrible blunder. "Oh, er, right... sorry... I just meant... you know... it was just a joke..."
I shrugged. "Yeah... whatever..." I just wanted to get some caffeine inside me to wake me up and then get the fuck out of the flat. Out of Birmingham.
This was becoming really embarrassing.
When I got back to Ed's room, Ed was out of the shower and getting dried.
He nodded curtly at me and then looked away from me, like I'd been the one to have upset him.
I didn't know what to say so I think I must have just stood there, staring at him drying himself.
He muttered, "You'd better take a shower..."
I said, "I'll get one when I get home... I'd better get going, Ed."
He stopped drying himself and looked at me, puzzled. "I thought you were staying for the weekend..."
"I was, but I decided to go..."
"If it's about last night..."
I shook my head. "It's about the note on your desk..."
He looked over at it and then looked back at me. "So Catherine came round... what's the problem with that... and why are you looking through my stuff...?"
I smiled grimly. "Don't try and take the moral high-ground... I know what you did... I'm not fucking stupid..."
Ed looked shocked. "What?"
"The guys in your flat treat me like I'm your latest shag... and they're not too surprised that I'm a guy..."
Ed started to look pale. "So they heard a few noises... they're just messing around..."
"Come on, Ed. You set me up. Don't treat me like I'm thick or something... at least do me that courtesy..."
Ed went quiet.
I started getting dressed.
Eventually he said, "Okay... so I pulled a bit of stunt..."
I looked at him fiercely. "I don't call tricking me into having sex with you 'a bit of a stunt'."
"You enjoyed it! You fucking loved it!"
I felt so angry I almost wanted to punch him. I don't often get like that but I did then.
But I controlled myself. Paused to gather my thoughts, even though my mind was reeling, and then said, trying to sound calm, "Yeah, I enjoyed it. But only 'cause I thought we were just messing around..."
"Except that it wasn't your first time, was it, Ed...?"
He shrugged, wrapping his towel around him. "Okay, so I'm gay. So you're gonna hate me for that...?"
Again I felt angry at the way he was twisting everything to turn it against me. "Of course not. I just think you could have found a better way of telling me..."
I pulled on my jacket and threw the rest of my things into my rucksack.
He tried: "But we had a good time together..."
Halfway to the door, I turned and said, "You really don't get it, Ed, do you? If you'd have said you were gay, I'd have come up and we could have talked about it. Maybe we could have even tried some stuff, I dunno... But to set things up like you did... just to get me into bed... don't you realise how it makes me feel?"
"I didn't know how to tell you that I'm gay... it was Catherine's idea, partly..."
"Who the fuck is she, anyway?"
He shrugged. "A friend..."
"Well, I hope she's a good one... to make up for the one you just lost..."
And I walked out of his room. I knew that I stunk, and my arse and my dick were both as sore as hell, but I couldn't bear to stay in the flat any longer to clean myself up.
I just wanted to get onto the train back to Southampton.
Walking to the station, I vowed to myself that I'd never do anything sexual with another guy again. I felt cheapened by having had sex with Ed; I felt used and dirty.
But then, as the train pulled out from Birmingham and we got out into the West Midlands countryside, I started thinking about how much I'd enjoyed what Ed and I had done and how I shouldn't let the circumstances we'd done it in prejudice me. After all, it had felt pretty good having him inside me and, although my arsehole throbbed like someone had stuck a hot poker up it, the idea of trying it again with someone else - on my own terms of course - was quite appealing. And the thought of having another guy's arse swallowing my cock was also kind of interesting: it had been, as Ed had pointed out, totally different from sex with a girl.
So by the time I got back to Southampton I was feeling a lot better about myself. Although I knew I wouldn't be actively seeking it, I suspected that, if ever a situation came up where I could have sex with another guy without tricks or deception, I'd probably take it.
As I was getting off the train, a cute-looking girl disembarking the adjoining carriage glanced at me. I smiled at her; gave her a dose of one of my best cheeky-boy smirks. She smiled back and I noticed that she checked out my package and my butt as I walked past her.
I found it quite funny that she was checking out the bulge of a cock that was still swollen from spending half the night buggering another guy, and a butt that felt like it had a hole in it the size of my jacket sleeve from being similarly mistreated.
I wondered how she'd feel if she knew: whether she'd feel irritated that I'd thrown her a teasing smile or whether she'd be intrigued by my apparent unobtainability.
It was a new and interesting sensation to feel that my sexuality might be more ambiguous than I'd suspected. To feel that, although I look and act like any other straight guy, there might be more to me than just that...
But I never spoke to Ed again. I found it impossible to forgive him; I still do, actually.
I got a letter from him a couple of weeks after my visit, droning on about how difficult it had been for him to come to terms with his sexuality and how he'd hoped that by drawing me into having sex with him we might become lovers as well as friends. He knew now it had all been a terrible thing to do and begged me to forgive him. Et cetera.
I told myself I'd phone him or write when I found time but I never did. And there's no way I would now.
So even though I like what Ed did for me, in terms of helping me to ask a few questions about the flexibility of my own sexuality, I just can't ever excuse him for the way he did it. What happened could so easily have had the opposite effect than it did and driven me towards intolerance of not just Ed himself, but of everything associated with his sexuality.
I hope he didn't try messing around with anyone else.
Author: firstname.lastname@example.org Website: http://stories.remoworld.com