I’ll Let You Suck My Cock If You’re a “Good Boy” (True Story)

I'll Let You Suck My Cock If You're a Good Boy

“How about this? I’ll make you a deal…”

Oh great, Tyler’s “deals” were usually nonsensical scenarios where both sides of the deal completely benefited himself.

“If you let me have the good bedroom, I’ll let you touch my dick.””

What? Holy shit, where did that come from? He really was drunk. Okay, I had to play it cool. I choked on my drink mid-swig.

“WHAT?! … How is that- why would I want- why would you-” I sputtered, attempted to clear my throat while I tried to pick one clear thought at a time. “Jesus, you are drunker than I thought. First of all, how is that at all a good deal for me? You get to sleep in the comfy room in MY cabin, and as a reward I get the privilege of touching your dick? Why would I even want to touch your dick?”

In my head: ‘Yes! Deal! Take the comfy bed! Whip out your dick right now, please!’ Of course, saying that was not an option. A best friendship, the only real friendship I had, hung in the balance. This was just one of Tyler’s weird drunk jokes where the punchline was ‘Wow, what are you, gay?’

I kept my tone light. “Someone really has to teach you how deals work. You offer something that benefits the other person, in order to get something that benefits you.”

Tyler looked dumbfounded. It was a cute, innocent look that he had that secretly got to me every time. Truth be told, I had given in to many of his nonsense deals in the past. None of them, of course, had friendship altering consequences quite like this latest whooper.

“Uh huh, well this does benefit you!”

“How do you figure touching your dick benefits me?”

“Oh come on! You know you want to.” He gave me an exaggerated knowing look that both excited and infuriated me in it’s truthfulness. I tried my best to hide both of those reactions. “I know you want to touch my pee pee…” he teased.

“Okay first off, never call it your pee pee ever again.”

A flashed a coy smirk at that. He was certainly acting pretty drunk. But we’d been going drink for drink and shot for shot all night. I was definitely feeling the effects, but I wouldn’t say I was hammered or anything. We had both definitely drank a lot more than this in the past.

So then, what was with the super-drunk act? Was this all really just a ploy so that if I finally relented and said ‘okay then whip it out!’ he could laugh and call me a fag? Or… did he really want me touching his dick? Shit, did I even want him to want me to touch it? I mean, yes, of course I wanted to. But, what would it mean for our friendship? Was the feigning higher inebriation a way of denying accountability in the sober light of day tomorrow? Was saying “Wow we were way too drunk last night!” excuse enough for some kind of sexual shenanigans between two straight best friends? Granted, the excuse had been used before after nights of debauchery. Drunk prank calls to bosses and ex-girlfriends were one thing, even skinny dipping in the middle of the night hardly compared to what he was proposing.

Clearly I should ignore the proposal. Laugh it off, say ‘nice try, homo.’ Better yet, just change the subject completely. I really did value the friendship too much. I shouldn’t jeopardize permanently making it weird. I had gone this long keeping my strange desires to myself.

“Second of all, I think you are cut off from the Tito’s for the night. And what the fuck makes you think that you know I want to touch your dick?” Okay maybe I wasn’t ready to drop it just yet.

“Oh come on! Matt, come on!… Really, Matthew… come on-” He made a show of chugging down the remains of his drink and setting the cup down on the couch next to him. “… Come on, like it isn’t obvious.”

I groaned and rolled my eyes. “No.. it isn’t at all. You aren’t making sense you fuckin’ weirdo.”

“Oh shh shh shhhh Matthew. It’s okay. I know. I knooow you want it,” he motioned to his own body with his hands, like a Price is Right model presenting a new car. “I know you want this…”

If I was taking another sip of my drink I would have choked again. Quick, I needed an appropriate reaction. My face, and what I said next, couldn’t reveal what my mind was screaming- that he had hit the nail on the head, that he had read me spot on. Was it so obvious? I thought I had been playing the perfectly cool, totally hetero, not-sexually-attracted-to-him best bro ever part convincingly all these years.

“Haha dude what the fuck!? Like.. what the actual fuck are you talking about?” Okay, keep it cool. I didn’t want to make myself sound too angry or too shocked. To try and deny it too fervently would be tantamount to admitting guilt. He who smelt it, dealt it, to put it in terms of farts. Which, why would anyone do that? Anyway, I went with amused confusion instead. At least that was the look I hoped I had on my face.

He gave me another one of those exaggerated knowing looks again. One that made me want to simultaneously punch him in the face and jump on him and tear his clothes off at the same time. “Seriously, bro. I see the way you look at me. The way you try to act like you aren’t paying attention but at the same time stare too much any time I take my shirt off. I mean, I can’t blame you, have you seen these muscles?” He said it jokingly, but with a cockiness that his dedication to the gym had afforded him.

“Wow, I knew you were full of yourself, but I didn’t know you were actually delusional,” I countered. “How many times do I have to tell you that everyone doesn’t want you. Every dude that looks at you is not gay. Every guy that talks to you isn’t hitting on you.”

“Maybe, but I know you are.”

This bizarro conversation still had an air of drunk jokiness to it, but not nearly as much as when it had first begun, and it was dissipating fast. It was being replaced fast by the feeling that I was being called out on years of bullshit that I was under the impression I had been expertly concealing.

“I mean, why else do you let me get away with all the shit I get away with? Why do you pay for most of the stuff we do? Why else would you want to hang out with me so much?” He continued.

“Dude, that is the strangest combination of cockiness and self-doubt I’ve ever heard. Uhhhm maybe because we are best friends? So you are saying you think you use your sex appeal to get me to do what you want? I pay for trips and stuff because of your gorgeous male body?”

“Hey your words not mine.”

I rolled my eyes and continued, “Or maybe it’s because you are always broke and I’m not, and sometimes if I didn’t pay we’d never do anything and I’d never do anything fun at all cause I don’t have any other real friends?”

“Woah, this conversation just got real,” he mused. “Okay so that might be some of it but the other part is cause yoooou waaant meeee.”

I rolled my eyes. Jesus, I needed to go to bed and hope we woke up tomorrow and at least pretended this conversation had never happened. Oh, and furiously masturbate, I’d also need to do that before I went to sleep.

I actually tended to do that rather frequently after nights spent hanging out with Tyler. It was all part of some strange infatuation that I’d developed at the start of our friendship that I thought I was cleverly hiding for the past 4 years. Maybe I should try and explain a bit.

I met Tyler 6 years ago when he was a fresh new baby-faced employee at the dead end retail job I’d been wasting away at. At the time he was just out of High School, and I had recently graduated college, and we were friendly with each other at work but not entirely on each others’ radars. At the time, I was actually in what I thought was a healthy relationship with a girl I imagined I’d marry someday. When that relationship went south, due in large part to my inability to move on and make something of myself after college, we broke up and I moved back in with my parents and continued not making something of myself.

I was always a bit of a loner, and didn’t maintain many friendships while I was in that relationship. Once it ended I started trying to hang out more with my co-workers, the closest thing I had left to any friends. I got roped in with the younger crowd to go out and celebrate Tyler’s big 21st Birthday party. I say younger because by then I was 26 and still hanging around with the largely younger college age group of retail workers who had yet to presumably move on to bigger and better things.

Anyway, turns out everyone else bailed for various reason’s on the night we were supposed to go out for Tyler’s big Birthday blow out. So it was just me and Tyler. And we actually ended up having a really fun time. Out of this, a quick friendship formed. Despite the fact that he looked like a cliched meathead jock, he was actually kind of a nerd who just happened to work out at the gym a lot. And despite the age difference, and the fact that I avoided the gym like demons avoid churches, we actually shared a lot of interests, and also bonded over both going through recent break ups.

We went out for drinks a lot, or hung out in my parents’ basement and watched movies or weird youtube videos. At the risk of sounding really lame, a best bromance formed. We’d go on what Tyler would call “adventures” together; road trips to see shows, or hunt ghosts in supposedly haunted places. At some point I finally got promoted to manager at our crappy retail job and even as manager and employee we were still inseparable. We’d schedule our vacation times together and go on camping trips to my family’s cabin in the mountains. These trips were basically just days on end of goofing off and getting drunk in nature. Which actually brings us back to what we were doing now, fighting over who gets the comfiest bed in the cabin. Or more accurately the only bed that didn’t feel like sleeping on a pile of rocks.

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8 thoughts on “I’ll Let You Suck My Cock If You’re a “Good Boy” (True Story)

  1. Alex says:

    Not sure how they can fuck without some kind of lube, and spit might get it in but it’s going to hurt like hell. The mentioning of him being dirty from the night before leaves a bad vision in my head…ugh..!

  2. piperjohn2 says:

    I would suck cock and wouldn’t what him to do the same to me, in fact the last time I sucked a cock was 50 years ago and have had to desire to suck a cock ever since but not the guts to ask a guy I thought was HOT and would have the urge to drop to my knees and undo his pants and suck the cream out of his balls, We did the 69 and I would much rather enjoy sucking a cock and NOT have to worry about satisfying the guy susckin my cock by shooting in his mouth..

  3. LJ says:

    That was a hot story… leave it to guys to want to experiment and still hold onto their straightness even when they loved the sexiness of it all…

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