My Dirty Little Secret (1 1/2)

P.S. Text messages/IMs are italicised.

My Dirty Little Secret (1 and a half)

It was Friday, a day after what had happened between David and me. The shock hadn’t worn off, and I felt like shit. I hadn’t heard from David at all in the meantime, and I wasn’t quite sure what to make of that. I still could remember the good feeling, how his warm skin felt so good, so nice, so right. And his hand around my cock… I couldn’t have asked for more, but I couldn’t have asked for something worse either.

It was 9AM in the morning and I was still in my bed, and Britney’s face kept flashing before my eyes. Each time, it seemed more distant, more faded. So beautiful, so pretty and so proud of her boyfriend… who had just cheated on her yesterday. With me.

I wondered if David had cheated on her before, with someone else. Some sick part of my mind hoped it was just me. Would that be better or worse?

Usually, when I’m angry or frustrated, working out helps keep those feelings at bay. This time, it did work… for a short time. In fact, I felt even shittier for trying to forget about the whole thing. If Britney found out, she wouldn’t. How could I do that to her, or anyone? Life seemed to be drifting at a slow pace… until I got a message from Dave on my Blackberry.

David: Bonjour! What’s up?

Me: Oh, nm. How are you?

David: I’m feeling amazing today, and you know the reason why 😉

Me: Hahahaha XD

David: Any chance we can meet up today? Just the two of us, you know 😉

Me: Sorry, I can’t

David: Aww  Why not? It can’t be more important than me 😀

Me: Sorry, Dave, I’m not doing anything today. But I can’t…

David: Why?

Me (after a while): Because it’s wrong

I’m not sure if he saw that, but he didn’t reply. I spent the rest of the day brooding and not replying any of my other friends’ messages. They were obviously concerned because I usually did reply, but I did not bother. I finished whatever homework I had and went to bed early, to the surprise of my parents.

Next day, I did not get a message from him until three in the afternoon.

David: Wait, what’s wrong? Are you feeling okay, dude?

Me: Not entirely, no.

David:  I’m here if you wanna talk.

Me: Yeah, I want to talk to you.

David: What about?

Me: The thing we did in school on Thursday. That’s what’s wrong!

David: Why?

Me: You know why…

He didn’t reply for a few minutes. I just assumed he was trying to think of an answer.

David: Don’t be a hypocrite, Ali. You were the one with me. We’re both guilty.

Me: You don’t seem guilty, though. I’ve been feeling like shit for the past two days because of what I realised after…

David: You’re only making yourself feel that. As long as Brit doesn’t know, everyone’s happy.

Me: Omg Dave you’re so fucking selfish.

David: Don’t call me selfish, you were just as much a part of it as I was.

Me: I know, and now I want to kill myself because of it.

David: Are you serious?

Me: I’m not sure.

David: Please don’t.

Me: I won’t.

David: There’s no problem with doing it, though. I like you, Ali. I’ve had a crush on you since the end of summer, and you can’t imagine how happy I felt on Thursday.

Me: Sorry, you can’t have both of us.

David: Are you thinking of telling her?

Me: No, she loves you. I don’t want to ruin that for her.

David: What if I break up with her… it will be hard, but I want to be with you too.

Me: If you break up with her for that one reason, it shows how much of a dick you are.

David: You’re a fucking dick as well. What’s up with you? You’re not like this.

Me: I was the guy who slept with someone who has a girlfriend, I feel lower than low. I feel like a cunt, horrible.

David: Then is it over?

Me: There was nothing between us to begin with. Please don’t do that to her again.

David: Okay.

Me: And let’s not talk from now on… until you sort out your priorities.

David: Fuck off.

I still felt like shit, but now I felt less like shit and more like a human. Something about that row had released part of my sadness. For a long time, the only form of communication between me and Dave was awkward glances. In that period, two other guys came into my life. Actually, that is debatable, because one of them was straight.

This straight guy was one of my closest friends, Alan Sinclair. To be honest, I’d never felt any sort of attraction towards him (unless you count the teensiest little crush I had on him when I first met him). He was from many parts of the world, including Portugal, Brazil, Australia and Germany. But he was white. While David had a positively dark orange complexion, Alan’s was the usual you found on Caucasian people – not too pale and not too dark.

For the past year, he sported ridiculously long hair for our schools standards and I don’t think that helped his attractiveness a lot. I’m not saying he is not attractive — I’ve just never thought of him as my kind of guy. He had dark brown hair and, like most teenagers, he pretended to be cool while he had self-esteem problem inside. And the new body which I had gained over summer had not helped that problem at all.

But he was my closest friend, and I had to help him.

At the first day of school when we’d all been slowly sifting into our new common room after a great summer, Alan was one of the people I’d met first. I could see the shock and surprise in his eyes and his next comment had made me feel really satisfied: “I thought gay guys were supposed to be skinny and girly.”

I made a rather pretentious show of pulling myself up to my tallest height (and I was still shorter than him by a few inches), and replied, “Like you?”

Sometimes, I’m really mean. Usually, I can be mean to my close friends because it’s okay to fight with them. Alan and I had had our arguments, but I’d often felt he looked at me with a superior glint in his eyes just because I was gay. That is why I had felt satisfied then. From then on, I never saw that look in his eyes again. Instead, I could see a look of shock and envy. But within that I saw him beating himself down.

It was October now, and even a month and a half of school couldn’t change the main topic of our text convos: Alan’s love life. His inferiority complex often made him say the phrase “out of my league”. I had told him I did not understand that concept a hundred times (even though I did) and that he should not think in that way, but he did anyway.

However, for the past few days, Alan had been making jokes about going gay, because apparently life would be simpler then. My answer to this would be “No, and you would make a horrible gay person. Firstly, because you find gay porn revolting.”

This was a true story. A few weeks after I had come out to everyone, Alan had decided to “see what kind of porn I watch”. When he did, he couldn’t stop complaining about how disgusting he found it.

Of course, a year later and approximately a few days after my argument with David, Alan’s previous experimentation with gay porn did not stop him from saying, “I’ve been considering experimenting with you.”

Me: Totally XD

Alan: I’m serious. I’ve given up on girls. They’re just too hard to get.

Me: So are guys 😛 You don’t know anything about the gay community, so please don’t think it’ll be easier getting guys.

Alan: But, I mean, you wouldn’t mind, would you.

Me: EW! Of course I would! It would be fucking awkward.

Alan: Yeah, that’s why I wanted to invite you over for a drinking game or something. Everyone’s gayer when they’re drunk. It’ll be easier for me.

Me: Can you please read what you’re saying…?

Alan: No seriously man, I feel shit about myself. I wanna see how this works out, and if I don’t like it, it’ll just give me more incentive to work harder to get girls.

I didn’t reply to that. I needed to think. I knew deep inside that I actually wouldn’t mind at all, but there was always a risk of fucking up the friendship. Still, I remembered that one post on a gay forum about how this guy had convinced his straight friend to have sex with him… and even though he’d only done it for 10 seconds with a porn video going on, I found it totally hot.

If Alan and I were to do it, we wouldn’t have sex. But it would be hot as fuck.

Me: I can’t believe I’m doing this, but okay.

Alan: Thanks bro 😀 I can’t believe I’m doing this either, but I guess drunk people do stupid things.

The next day was Thursday – exactly one week after Dave and I had had the incident in the bathroom. Alan had been absent the whole day, which was a relief because it would have been too awkward to have classes with him. I’d told my parents that I would be going directly to his house after school, and so I did. It was nearer to the school than mine, so it was a short walk.

Alan had told me that his parents and sister had gone somewhere, so the house was his for two days. When I knocked on the door, he opened it, acting his usual cool self. “How was school?”

“You missed loads in physics and we did six experiments in chem, but you don’t need to know them,” I replied casually. Alan’s house was exactly like the house I’d lived in at that time because we were situated in a giant community called the Arabian Meadows. To the left of the main door opened up a drawing hall, but Alan took up a corridor to the TV room instead. This was directly connected to a cozy garden which also happened to have a nice round-shaped swimming pool.

But I was concentrating on the centre table of the TV room. It had alcohol on it – loads of it. “Well, looks like we’re set in for the night.”

Alan chuckled. He kept an arm around my shoulders, which was touchier than he usually was. “I’m sorry, you can’t drink too much of it. Tomorrow, you have to tell me how I was. Hopefully, I won’t remember much.”

Hopefully, I thought. “You cheap bastard,” I said. “You put so much booze in front of me and say I shouldn’t drink too much?!”

He laughed. “That’s precisely what I meant. And you’re not a great drinker anyways.”

“Nope,” I agreed, smiling with amusement, “And anyway, even if you don’t remember it, I’ll need to. You’re going to do some embarrassing stuff tonight!”

That made him shift uncomfortable, but we started playing Need for Speed on his PS3 and screens, food and entertainment kept us occupied until night slowly shifted in. It was 8 o’ clock when Alan chugged some vodka down his throat. I decided to stay true to my word and have some cider so that I didn’t get too unruly.

Alan’s tolerance was something that should be admired. However, Alan’s drunk personality was annoying as fuck. If Alan was obnoxious when he was sober, his drunkenness only amplified that. But since I was getting healthily tipsy at the same time, I didn’t mind as I would have in a normal state.

One of the wonderful things about alcohol is that your inhibitions are stripped off like a strippers clothes. Alan was positively pissed, and I thought he was going to have a horrible hangover tomorrow. But I kept looking at him laughing in that irritating way, and I kept wondering whether I should do it. I was not sure whether he’d remember this. I just waited, waited and waited to make sure.

Instead, he started it himself. “Ali,” he said heavily, “I love you man. In a gay way. I want to kiss you. Let me kiss you, dude. Let’s go outside and cum in my pool.” He was all sweaty and I could see his wet lips nearing my face. I could smell the alcohol from half a metre away.

Then we kissed. My eyes were still open and his were closed and I could taste his drunk tongue, which licked the insides of my mouth. My eyes closed and I lost myself in the moment. This didn’t feel romantic at all, to be honest. With David, there was some spark in the air, like he genuinely liked me… With Alan, I was just feeling horny. Like, much hornier than usual.

I was cupping his face in my hands and caressing his hair, but he was a step ahead of me. If I wasn’t tipsy, I would have been surprised at his willingness. He easily pulled my shirt off and started sucking my nipples. I was leaning against the sofa, writhing in pleasure. His stench and the smell of alcohol just made it sexier, and he was already pulling down my underwear and his hand found my cock.

He held my cock in a shaky hand and kissed it like a trophy. That sent shivers up my spine and I sighed. He was licking off the precum and stroking it slowly. I wanted more, and he wanted it no doubt.

A second later, Alan’s jeans, boxers and ripped shirt were on the floor beside him. His cock and pubic hair was like I imagined – he had loads of hair and an average dick. It was six inches then, so shorter than mine. Yet still I stroked it in admiration and precum oozed out of it. Alan oozed himself onto me and his skin touched mine and his moist skin and wet lips made my cock harder. Our cocks touched and I held them both as if they were one great entity, and I stroked them together, shivering in pleasure.

My tongue explored his mouth, my other hand explored his ass. It was hairy, but moist somehow and I slid a finger into the uncharted territory. Alan slowly breathed, “Feels… good…”

He started kissing my cock again and I sighed. He took it in his mouth, and it felt amazing. My dick throbbed faster in the soft moistness of his mouth as he sucked on it. Gently, he licked it, swallowing the precum trickling down his throat. I closed my eyes and pleasure and put a firm hand on his head as he went up and down, up and down. “Fuuuuhck!”

Then suddenly, he took his mouth away. He lied down on the sofa and I noticed his boner wasn’t there anymore – just a flaccid penis. But I couldn’t resist the open hole that was his mouth. Planting both my knees in a teabag position, I held my cock so it slid down his lips. His mouth tensed around my sex and started sucking again and I sighed. This was amazing! He was stroking it as well and sometimes rubbing his saliva around the tip of my dick’s head.

My cock started throbbing faster and I could feel my mouth running dry. “Come on,” I moaned, “Suck my dick, Alan, suck me!!”

But he stopped suddenly. He pushed out my cock and turned his face away. “What the fuck?!” I muttered angrily. But he didn’t move at all, so I decided to finish the job myself. I started stroking my boner, which was already wet with saliva and precum. My cock tightened up and I felt my muscles tense slightly before I blew my load and moaned, “Fuuuuuuck!”

I licked it off his face while it was still hot, and then wore my clothes. Next morning, I found myself at home, although I didn’t remember walking the long way back in the middle of the night.