All of our old habits. Not that we ever really talked about that part.
Some things were just easier to do in secret and a lot harder when they were out in the open.
I pulled on a pair of athletic shorts and a T-shirt, grabbed some lotion, and headed back downstairs. Casey was waiting there in a pair of loose boxer briefs, standing by the couch as he looked at his phone.
After so many years together, I felt like I knew everything there was to know about the guy. I could swear that I knew what he was thinking, sometimes even before he thought it. I knew that he got jumpy when things were going good for him, like he was nervous he didn’t deserve it or something, and I knew that he sometimes jotted down ideas for dishes he would serve at a restaurant he fantasized about opening. I knew what all of his different smiles meant and which ones were trouble, and from the way he saidgood morning, I knew how he’d slept.
And when Casey was thinking with his cock, he was just about the most obvious man in the world.
I took a seat on the old leather couch and spread my legs. “Come here,” I said, pushing the coffee table away with my foot. “Sit.”
With a half-grin, Casey dropped between my legs, and I planted my hands on his shoulders. My fingers sank into his flesh, pressing along his skin, which was still warm from the shower. As my best friend hummed with contentment and leaned back, I worked my hands across his shoulders, then back to his injury.
Casey reached back, and his hand landed on my thigh. Heat surged to my groin, and I felt my cock stiffen in my basketball shorts. “Fuck yeah,” he said. “That feels good. I’m going to have to do something to thank you.”
I explored his back, massaging his muscles. My heart was kicking, and just like every time Casey and I hooked up, the second I knew it was about to happen, I realized how much I wanted it.
My dick twitched, fully hard and tenting my shorts. This was an old habit, but one that always came back again, alive and raw. And as Casey pressed back into me and dragged his hand up my thigh, I was eager to indulge myself.
He turned, slipping out of my grip, then placed his hands on my knees as he faced me. “What do you think?” he asked, then dragged his tongue across the curve of his full lip. He looked up to me, his dark eyes demanding and with a filthy smirk on his face.
I grabbed the back of his head, pushing my fingers into his wet hair. “I think you’re shameless,” I answered with a grunt.
“And I think you love it,” Casey answered.
My cock twitched in my shorts. I did love it, actually. Sex with Casey felt like nothing else. The few times when I’d hooked up with anyone else, and the few women I’ve dated, I’d definitely enjoyed myself, but I’d never moved with someone else like I did with Casey. He was my first sexual experience, and in some ways, it felt like our bodies were just wired together.
I pulled him forward, then rubbed his face against my cock. Casey laughed and buried his nose there, and my cock pulsed against his cheek.
Fuck yeah.
If Casey weren’t Casey, I’d probably say fuck it and just try to marry the guy. It’s not like I was really invested in being straight or anything; it just so happened I pretty much only found women attractive, with rare exceptions.
But the fact was, even though Casey was one of those exceptions, he was still Casey, permanently single and totally uninterested in things like marriages and families, things I knew I wanted in my life. So no matter how much my heart wanted to take care of the guy like I had since we were kids, I knew that road was a dead end.
I groaned, then bucked my hips forward as his hot breath landed on my crotch. A wave of pleasure crashed over me, and all of the other thoughts disappeared.
None of that shit mattered, not really.
I had him in my hands now, and I intended to enjoy it.
* * *
CASEY
I tuggeddown on Blake’s basketball shorts and pulled out his fat cock. My best friend kept rubbing the back of my head, pawing and palming me and letting out those nice grunts I hadn’t heard in way too long.
When I was in high school, I never would have believed it if someone had told me I’d still be fooling around with my straight best friend more than a decade later. But when I wrapped my lips around Blake’s crown and tasted his precum again, I was pleased as fucking punch that the right mood had caught us.
I fell into the rhythm of sucking Blake, dragging my lips up and down his shaft while I knelt at his feet and jerked myself. I knew it wouldn’t be long before he broke down and pulled me up for a kiss, and I stretched my jaw, teasing as much pleasure out of his throbbing cock as possible first.
“Fuck,” Blake groaned as he grabbed my shoulders. “Get up here.”
Right on time. I crawled up his body, and he tugged my boxer briefs off on the way. Blake slammed his lips against mine, kissing me roughly, then pulled his lips away to stare in my eyes until he kissed me again.
It was intense, just like the way he always fucked. His grumpy energy just broke open, and this passion poured out. Blake liked body contact and eye contact and shoving each other around. He was all into bodies and heat and friction. I had plenty of casual sex, but I really didn’t know anyone else who fucked like he did.
Maybe it was a straight guy thing, I wasn’t sure. I had no idea if he was the same with all the women he dated over the years.
