Awake with Jake Pt. 01

He pulled his finger out of himself and lifted it back to his mouth for him to spit on again. It looked pretty rank: I couldn't believe I was about to let him push it into me.

I was too intrigued to stop him, though: I knew full well that this was the sort of thing which the PSHE teacher at school would call "highly inappropriate behaviour" but that only made it more fun.

He pushed his hand between my legs and I stopped jerking my dick while he located my arsehole. Why was I letting another lad do this to me? My cock was straining with excitement, its head almost bursting from how hard it was throbbing: that, I suppose, was my answer, if one were needed.

When he found my hole, his eyebrows arched upwards in amused surprise. "You're well slimy back here, mate!"

"Easier for you to slide in!" I suggested.

"Yeah, but this is probably gonna make a massive stink! A lot stronger than mine."

"Is that a problem?" I asked, rather thinking I knew what his response would be.

"Of course not," he laughed, confirming what I'd suspected. "It'll be red hot, Jake! Fucking well toasty!"

He pushed into me with a wet-sounding squelch and I gasped at the sensation of being penetrated for the first time.

He grinned at me expectantly. "How's it feel?"

"So far so good," I replied with a nod. "How's it feel for you? Like a big, wet pussy, I suppose?"

He recoiled and looked almost disgusted by the comparison. "It feels like what it is. Another lad's arsehole!"

"Does it feel okay, though?"

"It feels proper horny," he smiled. "Nice and ripe!"

"Just how you like it?" I chuckled.

"Exactly how I like it!" he smirked.

I suddenly realised that I'd always been wrong about Craig. I had always assumed him to be gay - and it was now abundantly clear that he was - but I'd thought that, as a sensitive and effeminate young guy, his fantasies would be centred around being dominated by tougher, more masculine males. I suppose I'd assumed that, if Craig were to fantasize about having sex with me, he'd be the one eagerly bending over to receive me, wanking himself off at the feel of my cock pounding in and out of him.

Now it dawned on me that I'd got it the wrong way around. In spite of his campness and his girlish manner, Craig was very much into other boys' bums and if there was any fucking to be done, he'd want to be the one to have his cock buried up to its hilt. I now realise, although I'd have had no idea back then that such a term existed, that Craig was an effeminate top.

In spite of the fact that there was no way I was going to let him bugger me, I was suddenly fascinated by the idea that he might want to. For some reason the contrast between his delicate manner and his obvious preference to be sexually dominant appealed to me and I grinned at him as he pushed his finger deeply into my hole.

"You like that," I said. It wasn't a question.

He smirked back at me and I saw that he'd been waiting for this for some time.

"It's good for starters," he said with a chuckle.

Once his finger had pushed up as far as it could inside me, he told me to masturbate quickly. "It'll feel awesome having something up your butt when you're wanking off," he explained. "When you cum, you won't believe it!"

I started pumping my organ again and he worked his finger in and out of my backside. He was right again: it did feel really good.

"You're nice and hairy back there, Jake, I like that," he said and I laughed.

"You like my butt," I said, again as a statement rather than an inquiry.

"I fucking love it," he revealed, as his finger took up a steady rhythm inside me, working my hole as confidently as might finger the more silken and folded opening of a girl.

Craig was, I realised, a lad just like me. For all he was gay, his sexual needs were the equivalent of mine: he wanted someone else's hole squeezing around his cock, but in his case the object of his interest was other guys' arseholes.

He started frigging me more quickly, the ball of his hand thumping back and forth against my hefty balls. We smiled at each other and I sniffed at the air, surprised at how much stronger my bum smelt as he fingered me compared to his.

"Smells good, doesn't it," he muttered, as his right hand started pounding at his own erection. "That's the smell of me fucking you. The smell of you bending over and me screwing your arse while I wank you off, Jake!"

"Is that what you want, Craig?" I asked him, surprised by how excited I was growing at what he was saying.

He didn't reply but instead leaned towards me, his lips reaching outwards as he homed in on mine.

I turned my neck to one side, repelled by the thought of having another boy kiss me, and he pushed his face against my cheek, his breath hot against my ear.

Our bodies pressed together as we wanked ourselves as quickly as we could. Craig's finger was jabbing roughly in and out of my rectum, filling the air around us with their rough, earthy odour. Whereas his own scent had been indistinct and musky, mine was much coarser and uncompromisingly anal. His whole bedroom seemed to be reeking of this pungent declaration that I was having my first taste of anal pleasure, and the more I enjoyed it, the more it seemed to stink.

"God, I want to bone you, Jake!" Craig grunted into my ear. "I really want my cock up your arse!"

"Yeah?" I gasped, finding the idea inexplicably electrifying. The thought of this gentle, camp young guy, grabbing my shoulders from behind as he pounded at my hairy butt-crack, was, for some reason, an incredible turn-on.

"Let's do it, Jake," he panted, his voice sounding like a woman over-doing it in a crappy porn film. "Come on, it'll feel so good... I promise! Let me fuck you... right now!"

His girlishness contrasted heavily with what he was saying but it no longer seemed funny. I was by now finding it surprisingly erotic: to hear such a lust to use me sexually expressed in such unlikely tones.

He nibbled at my earlobe and I felt nervous energy coursing down my spine. I hadn't even realised my earlobes were erogenous: it had taken Craig as a fellow male to show me how exciting it could feel to have them teased during sex.

"Jesus, it smells so fucking rough!" I grunted. I was thinking of his mother coming home from work to find the house stinking of our sex.

"Your arse is beautiful," Craig gasped in my ear. His finger was a blur in and out of my hole. "Just think, though... it'll be even better with my cock inside it!"

I called out with surprise as a powerful orgasm overwhelmed me. I fell into Craig, who supported me, as the finger up my bum made my balls tingle in a way that reminded me of my first ever solitary climax many years earlier and sent surge after surge of my spunk shooting out from them.

Craig seemed initially disappointed that I'd spent myself - I think he really thought he might be about to wangle a fuck out of me - but once my orgasm had subsided and my cock had stopped soaking us with the thick, white cargo from my bollocks, he pounded at his own, determined to follow my example.

"What I said when you were cumming," he panted, his fist beating up and down his small, stiff cock. "All that stuff about wanting to fuck you... it was all just talk, you know. None of it was real."

"I know that, mate," I smiled, knowing precisely the opposite.

"I mean, I don't really wanna do anything like that," he gasped.

"It was just what guys say, Craig... I get that."

I reached out and, suppressing my disgust, fondled his wrinkled scrotum while his hand thrashed away on his dick.

"Come on, mate," I urged him. "Shoot your wad! Imagine you've got your knob up my arse!"

He threw his head back and started gasping at the ceiling. White strings shot from his deep red cock-head, covering his shirt in a gloopy mess.

Having never talked a guy into a climax before, I was surprised at how easy it was to get him to cum. If only girls could be so predictable: the world, I felt, would be a far more harmonious place.

As he was coming down from his excitement and was panting against me, his head on my shoulder, we heard the door slam below us as his mother came home.

"Shit!" Craig said, pulling his finger out of my bum with a revolting squelch. "She's early! We better clean up... fuck! She'll be coming upstairs in a minute."

We clambered off the bed and Craig reached for a box of tissues, desperate to clean up not only our cum-splattered shirts and trousers, but also his finger which reeked of where it had been.

And so ended, somewhat indelicately as my dad might say, my first real gay experience.

Talking of my dad, I looked over at him from my armchair and saw that he was waiting for my story to begin. He took another sip from his wine and then placed it back on its coaster with a small cough. I noticed him glance disapprovingly over at my beer: I'd totally ignored the matching coaster he'd laid out for it and had placed my glass on the bare wood of the coffee table.

I didn't correct my mistake. There seemed no point; if the beer was going to stain the wood, it would have done so by now.

"After the other lads had gone back to their rooms," I began, "it was pretty obvious that Marcus was in no state to go anywhere. He was used to sleeping over with me when he was too pissed to make the journey across campus, so by the time I'd brushed my teeth he was flat-out, face-down on my bed."

I'd pulled his boots off for him, laughing that I was undressing him like he was a kid even though he was unconscious, and then had reached underneath him to undo his belt and the button and fly on his jeans. It was when I'd been pulling his jeans down, exposing his arse-cheeks looking tight and round in his orange boxer trunks, that I'd become aware again of how attractive his scent back there was.

I'd checked that he was definitely passed-out and then had leant over to sniff the back of his underpants. At first I'd been pretty careful - keeping my nose well back from him and sniffing around both cheeks rather than what was between them. When his only response was to start snoring gently, my confidence grew and I pushed my nose right into what my dad had just termed the "wonderfully odorous crevice". Behind the soapy smell of laundry powder, or whatever it was on the material of his shorts, there was that same distinctive pungent scent that had aroused me so much when I'd been carrying out my dare in front of the guys an hour or so earlier.

It had an equivalent effect on me this time that it had on me previously: my cock quickly swelled to full size and I felt a strong compulsion to work it with my hand while I had my nose pressed into my mate's butt-crack.

Why the hell was I getting so boned-up with my face in Marcus' arse? What was it about the smell of this guy's butt that was making me want to jerk off?

"So what happened next?" dad asked with a certain amount of impatience.

"I stripped down to my t-shirt and briefs, and got into bed with him. That was pretty normal for us - I mean, just because we sometimes crashed out together in the same bed, it didn't mean anything more than that."

"Yeah, I know how it works," dad smiled. "It wasn't that long ago that I was young enough to have mates sleeping over with me."

"You have mates staying over with you now - only not the sort of mates you keep your underwear on for," I pointed out. "I'm just making it clear that for me and Marcus it was totally non-sexual."

"At least until then," dad observed.

"Well, yeah..." I smirked. "Things were about to change pretty drastically."

I'd snuggled into Marcus' back, still running a serious hard-on which was poking into his butt. All the time I kept thinking over and over of that amazing smell lurking right there between his cheeks and wishing my cock was able to sniff the place it was nuzzling into. I put my arms around him, hoping I could manage to get to sleep with us spooning like that, but he abruptly regained consciousness and muttered, his voice sounding gravelly, "You've got a stalk-on, Jake! You're just about knobbing my arse, mate!"

I'd muttered some quip like, "You wish I was, you fucking gay boy!" and then had gripped him more firmly, enjoying the way he was pushing his butt back against my raging dick.

He'd muttered, still sounding half out of it, "Why've you got a hard-on, anyway? You're such a fucking jerk-wad sometimes, Jake..."

I'd said, "It was having my face in your arse, mate. I've been running a woody since then." I'd sniggered like it was such a great joke; that it was so ridiculous it couldn't possibly be true.

Then he'd surprised me by admitting, his voice sounding slurred by the amount of alcohol he'd drank, "I actually really liked the feel of you licking my butt when we were playing that game. I mean, I probably wouldn't say that if I was sober, but I only stopped you because I was getting a stiffie myself."

I'd laughed into the back of his head. Whatever shampoo he used smelt really nice; much better than my Head & Shoulders stuff.

Then he said, "Jesus, mate! Your dick feels fucking massive! Pity I'm not gay - I'd be loving having your knob rubbing against my arse!"

Strictly speaking it was his arse rubbing against my knob: I wasn't sure if he was aware of it, but he was gently working himself back and forth against my erection.

I'd gripped him more firmly and had whispered, "You say you're not gay, but you just admitted you were getting a boner with my face in your butt."

"That's different," he giggled. "It was just a reflex. My brain didn't register if you were a girl or a boy."

"So you were in bed together," dad prompted me, eager to move things on. "What happened next?"

"Well, Marcus kind of half woke up and told me, still pretty drunk, that he'd like having my face in his butt. Then I ended up admitting that I'd liked having it there."

"So I assume it ended up back there?" dad suggested with his wine glass poised at his lips.

"You actually liked licking my arse?" Marcus asked, incredulously. He was sounding a lot more awake now.

"Since you're admitting enjoying having me do it, then... yeah... I'll admit I enjoyed having my face there."

"But you liked the taste of it?" he persisted. "You liked having your tongue licking between my arse-cheeks?"

"A bit," I conceded. "Yeah... it was kind of... well... intriguing, I guess."

"Your knob's fucking throbbing!" he chuckled. "It's grinding into me, man!"

It didn't stop him working his arse against me even more. For a guy who kept saying he wasn't gay, he sure enjoyed having a stiff dick poking into his butt.

"It's the thought of your bum, mate," I grinned. "It's making me get as horny as fuck!"

I'd meant it sarcastically but Marcus took it as straight-up. Which was fortunate, really, because it moved things on nicely.

"Well, if you enjoyed it when you did it first time," he said, "I wouldn't complain if you wanted to try it for a second."

"Yes, my face ended up back there," I told my dad. "He pulled his orange shorts down and I burrowed my way down underneath my duvet to continue what I'd started doing earlier."

My dad threw me a broad grin. I could tell what he was thinking: 'a chip off the old block'. A chip off the old block! I kid you not: that really was just the sort of old school phrase that would pop into his head.

"And obviously you liked it?" he asked.

I smiled back at him.

I worked my way between Marcus' cheeks, loving the way I could now smell him properly without having to worry about how I might look in front of our mates' eager faces. I pushed my tongue into his crack and got to feel again the amazing sensation of having another lad's arse sending countless electrical impulses surging from my taste buds.

Why had I never thought of doing this before? Surely it was obvious how incredible this would be? So many lads I'd been friends with all these years; so many arses I could have had my tongue burrowed into!

I knew from stuff my dad had told me that what I was doing to my friend was called 'rimming'. Marcus was having his butt rimmed, no doubt for the first time, and, as I was the one who had his tongue licking back there, it was me who was rimming another lad's arse.

It sounded weird to apply that verb to what the two of us were doing. Rimming had always seemed like a weird fetish of my dad's - I'd always thought how horrible it must be to push your mouth and nose between another guys' butt-cheeks - but what I was doing to Marcus felt exciting and sexy, so much so that my cock was throbbing with the big brother of all hard-ons.

Was this really 'rimming'? I figured it was. It seemed that I'd just have to accept that I was a guy who liked rimming other dudes' butts now!

I pushed deeper into him, the tip of my tongue making circles around his hole. Marcus groaned and his little throbbing ring opened for me. He was inviting me in; he wanted me to lick him inside.

"When you rim a guy," I asked my dad, "do you just lick his arse - you know, around the hole - or do you actually stick your tongue inside?"

He took a sip from his wine, staring into the middle distance and mulling over the question as if it were some deep philosophical conundrum.

"I suppose," he began, putting his glass back on the coaster, "rimming could be argued to be the most intimate thing you and another male can do together. Even more so than... well..."

"Screwing each other's bums?" I asked him with a grin.

"Indeed," he agreed. "I take it, from what you said in the car on the way back from uni, that you and Marcus have experimented with anal penetration?"

"Experimented?" I chuckled. "We've become pretty accomplished actually."

"Really?" he smirked back. "So it's a pretty regular thing?"

"Every night," I exaggerated with a laugh. "Or at least as often as you'd expect from a couple of lads who've discovered that sex can still be fun even when it doesn't come with strings attached in the form of girlfriends."

He grinned broadly at me. He liked that answer.

"Anyway," he went on, resuming his reply, "it seems to me that, as much as I enjoy experiencing full anal intimacy with other men -"

"You mean shagging blokes' arses?" I sought to clarify.

"That's right, Jake," he said with a patient smile. "Well, as much as I enjoy that - and believe me, I really do enjoy that -"

He allowed himself an indulgent chuckle and I couldn't help but do the same.

"It seems to me," he continued, "that anal sex is really just a way for the two of us men to achieve release. The real pleasure for me, and the part which I savour, is the mutual rimming we indulge in beforehand. That's the moment of intense togetherness; that's the part where I feel there's a powerful fraternal bond between me and the other man."

He looked smug at how eloquently he considered he'd phrased his response. He looked so self-satisfied that it was like he thought he should be up to receive the Booker Prize for poetry or something.

"So what's the answer to my question?" I asked him.

"Oh... er..." he stumbled, his smugness quickly replaced by puzzlement. "What was the question again?"

"When you rim a guy, do you stick your tongue up his butt?"

He lifted his glass and rolled his eyes a little. There were to be no prizes for poetry coming his son's way any time soon.

After taking another drink, he said, "The point I was coming to, Jake, before I managed to distract myself, was that, penetration with the tongue lifts the male-to-male sexual experience to its highest form - at least for me it does."

"So that's a 'yes', then?" I confirmed.

"That's a 'very much so'," he clarified before asking, "So did you do that to Marcus?"

"What do you think?" I grinned.

I pushed into him tentatively at first, unsure as to what I was going to find, but then, enjoying the richness of his taste and the darker pungent bite once my tongue was inside him, I worked myself gently into him, flicking the tip of it in and out like Craig had done with his finger.