Starts off weird; that's how you know it's true [m/m] | 2016

We got out of the movie at a weird time, probably around 9:30. I hadn't hung out with Paul in awhile, but normally when we went to movies we went to a late show, the kind where we'd get out around midnight or one a.m. I'd drop him off at his place and head straight home.

This time, though, we got out kinda early, so that lead to the question...

"Now what?" Paul asked, as he plopped into the passenger seat of my car.

"I dunno," I said.

"Denny's?"

"I'm not really hungry... I just ate a huge-assed basket of curly fries."

"Booze?"

"It's Monday."

"Yeahhhh..." he said. "You could come back to the apartment, have a drink there."

'The Apartment' was the kind of place that I'm sure a lot of you folks out there had- the first place where we lived on our own, away from our parents. I've talked to a lot of people who had a place like that, and usually with a simple name like that - "The House," "The Condo," whatever.

I'd moved out a year ago, gotten my own place when I went away to school further away, but Paul had kept the apartment, and lived there on his own.

"Yeah, I guess I could hang," I said.

"Cool."

I forget what movie we'd just seen; it must not have been very good, because the car got really quiet after that. Normally we would have been talking excitedly about whatever tits and explosions we'd just seen.

After about ten minutes, Paul said the weirdest fucking thing ever:

"You know, there really is something special about letting out a good fart."

"Um... what?"

"I'm just saying, like, when you're hanging out with a girl, and you're holding in a fart, and she leaves, and you can let it out, and you're rocking a nice tight sphincter... it's a good thing."

"Um, sick."

"Oh, don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about. You know, all those magazine articles and whatever say we've got a prostate, and that anal would feel good, but I wouldn't want to get stretched out and not be able to rip a decent fart anymore."

There was a really, really long silence after that. I mean, what do you say to that?

But I had an idea. It was almost like calculus, super-fast number-crunching in my head. I'm not normally a smooth or clever guy, but all of a sudden, I had a plan.

I reached forward, fiddling with the radio, and said, "I dunno, I always thought it sounded okay."

"What sounded okay?"

"Anal," I said. "Like you said- we've got a prostate, it's supposed to feel awesome, seems like it'd be something to try sometime."

"Didn't you say that you and Sue did some of that stuff when you were dating?"

"I might have exaggerated that a little," I said, "She tried to stick a finger up there while she was giving me a blowjob once, but she didn't warn me and I clenched up and freaked out a little bit. That was about it."

"Haha, I probably would have kicked her."

"Eh, I dunno," I said. "It was a blown opportunity. Should have let her try."

There was another long pause. I pulled into the parking spot across from the Apartment, and Paul got out his keys. We walked over to the door, and he started to let us in.

"Wanna try?" I asked. Paul didn't drop his keys or anything slapstick-funny like that, but he did freeze for a half-second. Then he just chuckled, and said, "Whatever, dude," and walked up the stairs.

Weird thing about Paul- he changes the second he gets home. He's like Mr. Rogers, except instead of some stupid sweater and house shoes, he always puts on Adidas track pants and some ratty t-shirt that's too old to wear outside. I was always kind of the opposite- I fall asleep fully-dressed a lot- so I always thought this was funny.

He came back from the bathroom in this little outfit. "So, you wanna beer? Watch a movie?"

This was the moment where I could have stopped and nobody would have known. But I didn't stop.

"You didn't answer my question," I said.

"Which question?"

"Wanna try anal?"

"Dude," he said.

"What," I said, "You said it yourself- it's supposed to feel good. I sure won't tell anybody, I know you won't ever tell anybody, I already said I wanna try, what about you?"

"Dude," he said again, and did that little nervous-laugh thing again. He plopped down on the couch, reaching for the remote.

"I can see you think I'm kidding," I said, "But I'm serious."

"Uh-huh," he said.

"Fine," I said, "How about this."

I unbuckled my belt, unbuttoned my jeans, and dropped my pants to the floor.

"I'm not looking," he said.

"Seriously," I said. I stepped out of my jeans and flip-flops in one motion. I stood there in a t-shirt and boxer briefs.

Paul turned on the TV.

"This is happening over here," I said, and took off my shirt.

This would be a good time to mention that when Paul and I lived together, I used to go through his computer when he wasn't at home and figured out that, based on his browser history, he was into at least SOME of what I was proposing. But I knew he wouldn't commit to anything until he was sure, absolutely sure that I wasn't bluffing.

So I pushed down my boxers. I stood there, completely naked in Paul's living room, honestly shaking a little bit. I'd thought about all this before, and I was still pretty confident it would work, but... still scary.

Finally, he was looking at me.

"Seriously, dude," I said, "Are we doing this or what?"

"Um," he said.

"Hold on," I said, and walked into the bathroom for a second. I came back with the jar of Vaseline from his medicine cabinet, and tossed it at him.

"In here," I said, "or in the bedroom?"

"Um..." I could hear the wheels turning in his head, until finally he said it.

"The bedroom."

I laid on my back on Paul's rumpled bed, knees spread. Paul stood a little too far away, having finally gotten naked a few minutes earlier. His penis, average-sized, uncircumcized, twitched and pulsated, showing just how into this he really was- just like I knew he would be.

I slathered some Vaseline in and around my asshole, before tossing the jar at him again.

"Put some on your dick, man," I said. "And then get over here and do this already."

He smeared some Vaseline on hesitantly, and walked over slowly. He got on his knees, positioning the head of his penis a few inches away from my ass.

"Are you..."

"Just do it," I said.

He did it slowly, half-inch by half-inch. Every so often I'd clench and say "Ah," a little bit, but eventually, he got it all the way in.

"...you good?" He asked.

Good? This was amazing. I'd never had a cock in my ass before, and I could feel the heat, the pulsing, the euphoria. I could cum whenever I wanted... but I didn't want to, not yet.

"Yeah," I said, "I'm good. You can... you know."

He pulled out a little, and then pushed back in. I couldn't help it, I moaned a little. He was doing it slowly, very slowly, in and out, and each time he pushed all the way in, I moaned a bit.

"Does it... does it hurt?"

"No," I said, "Do it faster."

He obliged, but not enough. He was still going too slow, playing it cautious.

"Faster," I said.

I was starting to realize that I enjoyed being loud. Every time his dick hit home, I'd let loose with another "Ahhh," and he started to speed up a bit more.

"Faster," I said.

Every time he pushed forward, his stomach would brush up against my cock and balls. I was resisting the urge to reach down and jerk myself off.

"Faster," I said.

He was really going now.

"HARDER," I said.

I brought my legs up and wrapped them behind Paul, locking my ankles behind him.

I moaned.

"Fuck me," I said.

Finally, he looked up, and his eyes locked with mine.

This next part was not part of the plan-

-I pulled his head down and kissed him. I jammed my tongue into his mouth, and immediately he groaned in my mouth. I felt his whole body spasm, and he came deeply into my ass.

Right then, at that moment, I came too, and i felt some of my own cum splatter me on the face- a new record, I might add.

So that was the first time Paul fucked me.

But it wasn't the last.