BateBook: All Male Fiction: Nocturnal Emissions

Story revised 2022

Photo added, edits throughout, new content added.

Mark and I had been friends since we were eleven years old. He was and still is, my best friend. As a kid, I probably spent more time at his house than I did my own, so when we got older, and I realized that I was bisexual, I had no problem telling him.

He, as I expected, didn't care; he never treated me any differently, except that while it was perfectly ok for him to talk about sex he had with women, and for me to talk about sex I had with women, he didn't want to hear about any sex I had with other men.

At first, I didn't think that was fair. I mean, if you can't be yourself around your best friend, then are they really your friend? But after I thought about it some more, I figured it was a perfectly reasonable request - he's straight, and if I was straight and he was bisexual, would I want to hear about him sucking cock and fucking guys? Probably not.

Ever since my bisexuality first came to light many years ago, I have never found myself attracted to Mark… not that he wasn't attractive; he was, just not to me, in that way. I mean, I wouldn't say no if he ever asked me to watch porn and jerk off with him, or tag-team a pussy (not that he ever would in either case), but as far as me wanting to do things to him, it was just never something I've ever thought about. However, as I'm sure you have figured out, that all changed.

It happened about four months ago when I went over to Mark's place after he called and told me that he and his girlfriend had just had a huge fight. The fight was bad enough that she had walked out and gone to her parents, taking their five-year-old son, Josh, with her.

After filling me in, he said he needed to get drunk to put his girlfriend and the fight out of his mind, at least for the night, and wanted his buddy there to get drunk with him.

When I got there, instead of being depressed or grumpy, he was all smiles. This, no doubt, was due to the amount of beer he had already consumed, evident by all the empty cans on the coffee table. I had a lot of catching up to do and he was thinking the same thing, as he handed me a beer right at the front door and said just that.

As we sat down on the couch, I asked about the fight right away but he said he didn't want to talk about it. He said he wanted to watch movies, guy movies, and get drunk. He then put on Die Hard, not a recent movie, but one of his all-time favorites.

When the movie ended, he had accomplished what he had set out to do and was now completely wasted, and I was right around the corner from being there myself. Rather than putting another movie on, things took a weird turn as he turned off the TV, looked right at me, and said, "Fuck, I'm so horny!"

Normally I would respond to a statement like that with something along the lines of: "You're always fucking horny." However, he was drunk and I was tipsy, and he had turned sideways on the couch and was staring at me intently. "Uh, ok… what the hell are you telling me for?" I asked looking at him strangely.

"Hey, I'm just talking, ok? You're my best friend. Can't a guy even talk to his best friend about this stuff?"

"Sure, ok," I said still looking at him strangely.

"That's what the fight was about," he slurred.

"About you being horny?" I asked as I cracked open another beer.

"Yeah, I wanted to fuck her and she got mad and stormed out, took Josh with her!"

"She stormed off to her parents with your kid just because you wanted to fuck her? That seems like a bit of an overreaction just because you were horny and wanted sex. What did you do, ask her if you could fuck her in the ass or something?" I laughed as the buzz hit me hard.

"Nah, that's more your department, buddy," he replied, which was an odd response because, as I mentioned, he never, ever talked about me having sex with guys, not even in the sense of cracking jokes about it, not even when drunk.

"So what's the whole story, then?" I asked not acknowledging his comment.

"Well, she's at her parents. We were supposed to go there tonight, together, and spend the night because her mom and dad are taking Josh to some grandparent/grandkid thing tomorrow. And because we fought, she went without me, said she didn't want me there."

"Ok, but where does the sex come into it?"

"Oh, yeah, sorry buddy, I'm a bit wasted."

"Uh-huh," I agreed with a drunken giggle.

"Anyway, the thing was only for the grandparents and the grandkids, but we had to make the trip to get Josh there so they could take him, and hang around to bring him back home after. So, I told her, since we would be alone at her parent's for half the day, with nothing to do, we should get naked and fuck."

"And that made her mad enough to go without you?"

"No, I think it was when I said we should fuck all over her parent's house, like on their kitchen table, the countertop, their bed, those kinds of places."

"You think?" I laughed. "No wonder she got so pissed at you."

"Dude, you agree with her?"

"That's not what I'm sayin'," I slurred. I was wasted now too. "We're both guys and guys think like that, but I can see why a woman would get mad at a guy for saying something like that. I mean you were talking about her parent's house, doing it in their bed, dude!"

"Yeah, I guess so," he said. "You're so lucky to be single."

"Why's that, buddy?"

"Because at least when you get horny you can just go out and get laid!"

"Yeah, ok," I laughed. "Just because I'm single doesn't mean I can just go out and get a woman to fuck me when I want some. I have to work at it just like you did when you were single, probably like you still have to do with your girlfriend sometimes. The truth is, most times when I try to get laid by a woman, I end up going home to my hand. And that's not just me - most guys strike out more often than they score and have to use their hand, too; they just don't admit it." I laughed and added, "And I guess I wouldn't be admitting it either if I wasn't drunk."

Mark didn't laugh at my revelation that I got more action from my hand than I got from women. Instead, he replied with, "Yeah, but dude, you do guys too, and guys want sex all the time, so I know you can probably go out to some gay place and get some from a guy whenever you want it."

"I'll admit it is easier to get sex from guys, but that doesn't mean that I can get it whenever I want it. Just like with women, I've come home lots of times after trying to get laid by a guy and still had to use my hand."

I couldn't believe what we were talking about. It was so strange for us, a type of conversation that had never happened between us before, ever, even when we had both been drinking.

What he said next was even more surreal: "Still, you have more chances and better odds. Man, sometimes I wish I was bi, too."

"No you don't, you're just drunk and horny," I laughed.

"Yeah, but if I were bi, at least I'd have a good shot at getting my cock sucked tonight," he said looking directly at me.

"Ok, well, even if you were bi, I wouldn't be sucking your cock tonight or any other night," I laughed. "Sorry to disappoint you buddy, but I don't have any interest in you in that way."

"Well, that's a fuckin' relief. Even if I did go both ways, I wouldn't want you to do that to me either."

I guess it was the booze, but I got defensive at that remark. "Why the hell not?!" I slurred sounding a bit angry.

"Because you're my buddy, I've known you since we were kids; it would be too weird. Jeez, why are you getting so upset?" he laughed. "You want to, don't you?" he teased.

"Fuck off! I do not!"

"Ryan has the hots for me. Wants my big dick. He wants to suck it and swallow my load," he sang teasingly.

"Fuck off!" I said slugging him in the arm.

"It's ok, buddy, I don't mind if you have the hots for me; just as long as you know that you can never have me," he laughed.

"I don't have the hots for you! You're being an asshole! I'm going home!" I snapped as I stood up, stumbling a bit before I got my balance.

"Buddy, I'm fucking with you. Come on, sit down," he said as he grabbed my arm, which made me lose my balance and caused me to fall back into the seat of the couch. "You're not mad at me too, are you buddy?"

"Only if you really think I have the hots for you!"

"I don't think that buddy; I know you don't."

"Well ok then, good," I grumbled. "I'm gonna head home anyway, though," I said, standing again and wobbling on my feet.

"You're too drunk to drive," Mark laughed.

"True," I chuckled as I let myself fall back onto the couch. "I'd better call a cab," I finished as I fumbled to get my cell phone from my pocket.

"Dude, why don't you just crash on the couch," he suggested. "Saves you the cab fare, and saves me from having to come get you tomorrow to bring you back here to get your car."

"Well, if you're offering, I guess I may as well since you got the place to yourself."

After getting me a pillow and blanket, Mark went off to bed, and I stripped down to my briefs and then got myself as comfortable as I could on the couch.

The problem I have when I drink is that I have trouble falling asleep, and as I lay there I couldn't stop going over the weird conversation between Mark and me. While I still had no desire to be with my best buddy, I couldn't help but think about how, when he said I wanted his cock, he had said it was big, and I found myself wondering just how big his dick was.

Unlike me, Mark was dead to the world when he fell asleep drunk; a bomb couldn't wake him up. I knew this from the many times we had gotten drunk together over the years and crashed at one or the other's place. Blame it on the booze (I do) but about half an hour later I was still wondering how big he was. In fact, that was the only thing keeping me awake now, and I found myself on my feet heading to his bedroom.

Once there, I moved over to the side of his bed. I called his name a few times and even nudged him a couple of times. He didn't react, which didn't surprise me at all, knowing how deeply he went under when he was wasted.

I pulled his blankets back and watched him, just to make sure he didn't stir, which I knew he wouldn't. Then, with my heart racing, and not believing I was about to do what I was about to do, I slipped my fingers inside the front of his jockey shorts, gently pulled on the elastic waist, and peered inside.

His cock was soft and didn't look like anything all that impressive; just an average-looking soft cock. To see just how big it was, I would need to see it hard. However, I still had no interest in doing anything with my buddy, so I slowly released the tension on the front of his jockeys and slipped my fingers out.

As I was grabbing the blankets to cover him back up, I had an idea: maybe if I whispered dirty stuff in his ear he'd get hard while he slept. Hey, I was drunk, it sounded like a really good idea at the time.

Leaning down near his ear, I started talking about pussy, as if I was a woman and he was fucking her.

No reaction below the waist.

I started talking about him getting his cock sucked.

Still nothing.

Disappointed, I pulled the blankets up and headed across the room to go back out to the couch.

When I got to his door, though, I stopped. For some reason, I just had to know how big he was, or if he really was at all. It was almost an obsession now, and with my current state of intoxication fueling my curiosity, I went back over and pulled the blankets down again.

This time when I lifted his briefs, I pulled them down and gently tucked the front of them under his balls. I knew what I had to do to get it hard and reached down and grasped my buddy's cock in my hand. I gently squeezed it and began to slowly stroke it - it felt so weird to be doing that to my best friend. I still wasn't turned on for him at all even as I touched him, my mind still fully focused on wanting (ok, at this point, needing) to find out his size.

His cock began to respond, slowly starting to lengthen and thicken in my loose grasp. I kept gently massaging it and soon it was rock hard in my hand. I could feel it pulsing as I naturally tightened my grip on the stiff rod.

I brought his cock down to his stomach and slid my fingers off it, letting it lay against his belly. I took a look at it as it lay displayed for me. He hadn't been lying when he used the word 'big' to describe his cock; it was probably about eight-and-a-half to nine inches long and six inches around – much bigger than my paltry (in comparison) six-inch pecker. His balls were proportionate to his large member, and he was also uncut, something I envied.

What happened next threw me for a loop; my own cock was responding to the sight of my buddy's big slab of meat! If that was the only thing, I wouldn't have been so worried - if you like guys it was only natural for your body to respond to a sight like that, no matter whose body the cock was attached to, platonic friend or not. What worried me was that while I still didn't feel an attraction to my best friend, my drunken self wanted to put that big, uncut cock in my mouth and suck it... and that's just what I did!

As if a puppet on strings, my body walked itself around the bed and got on it, lowered itself down, where my hand then reached out and grasped the large cock, raised it up, and then my mouth enveloped it. I moaned just from the pleasure of having a big hard cock in my mouth, almost even forgetting whose cock it was for a moment.

Of course, I knew exactly whose cock it was, and as I worked my buddy's dick my brain was saying What the hell are you doing? but my cock was saying Suck it! Suck it!

It wasn't too long before my buddy made a quiet sound in his sleep and my mouth was being filled with his cum. I could have held it in my mouth and spit it out after, but I just began to swallow repeatedly until his cock had stopped spurting and I had every drop in my belly.

After his cock had finished spewing its jizz, I pulled my mouth free, got off the bed, and stood and waited for his dick to go soft. At that point, I took off my underwear and used it to wipe up the cum that had seeped from his cock to hide any evidence of what I had done to my buddy while he was passed out drunk.

After sticking around for a few more moments to make sure no more cum was going to leak from his soft dick, I pulled up his underwear, covered him with his blankets, and made my way back to the couch.

Although I knew what I had just done was wrong, rather than focusing on that fact or feeling weird about having sucked off my platonic best friend, I was smiling instead… and still hard.

After stretching out on the couch, I took my cock in my hand and proceeded to jerk off, even going so far as to bring my briefs to my nose and inhaling the scent of my buddy's wet cum stains on them. I came very quickly, far more quickly than I ever have before.

With my buddy's nut-juice in my stomach and my own all over my stomach, satiated in every way, I drifted off to sleep very quickly.

The next day, my buddy and I were a bit groggy when we first got up, but after we had each taken a shower and had something to eat we were both feeling ok, with no hangovers. It was obvious that he truly had no clue as to what had transpired between us and he even apologized for acting 'weird' the night before.

Of course, now that I was sober, I was feeling guilty about what I had done and swore I'd never drink with my buddy again when we were alone together.

Despite what I may have sworn, a week later I was over at Mark's again, and the two of us were drunk again. This time it was so that he could drown his sorrows after his girlfriend decided she wasn't coming back to him and had ended their relationship.

That very night, although I tried hard to fight the urge, I ended up in Mark's bedroom, sucking his cock while he was passed out drunk, again. It was after that second time that I knew I would do it again anytime I could.

Soon after that, Mark's ex-girlfriend came back from her parents and kicked Mark out of their apartment. She could do that because it was hers before they moved in together, and the lease was in her name.

Mark didn't even have to ask me if he could stay with me; I offered immediately. Of course, I wanted to help out my best friend in his time of need, but I also had an ulterior motive – my own need… to suck that big cock of his as much as possible.

I had the fridge stocked with beer before he even arrived, and he manages to get drunk every night now, mostly because I keep bringing him beers and keep encouraging him to have another. And every night after he passes out, it's my turn to drink when I suck another load out that long schlong of his!

I'm still not attracted to my best friend, I'm just in love with his big cock, that's all. Luckily for me, I get to have it anytime I want… I just hope there's never a beer shortage!

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