A Blast from the Past

I couldn’t stop staring at the guy who stood by the clearance records at the front of the store, trying to figure out if I knew him. I hadn’t caught sight of his face yet, but something in the way he cocked his head while he walked had caught my attention. The way he shifted from foot to foot, not even in time with the music crackling from the old jukebox in the corner… it was so familiar!

The two girls who had been giggling in the corner for the past half hour gave me one final look of longing before exiting with a sigh. I didn’t say, see you tomorrow, like I usually did when they left. I was too busy wondering if that guy really was…

He turned around and then I knew for sure.

It was him! He caught me looking, did a dubious double take, then approached the counter, his smile widening with every step he took. “Jeffrey Fox!” he beamed. “Jesus, how long has it been?”

My cheeks started to burn. It had been about eight years since I’d last laid eyes on Shawn, and the last time I had? A mutual friend had just outed me as a ‘baby gay’ and had told him he was all my queer dreams tucked into one neat pair of tighty whities. Shawn was so straight you could use him as a ruler and he hadn’t been too impressed with the idea of being another guy’s dream date.

Shuffling a stack of business cards, I cleared my throat. But before I could get a word past my lips, the phone in the back office started to ring. I held up a finger, dashing through the beaded curtain that hung where there was once a door.

I hung up immediately after answering. Those two girls never gave me a moment of peace. Catching my reflection in the mirror above the hand basin, I had the beginnings of a thought about changing my hair to something less floppy and emo, but the cogs of my mind ground to a halt when I realised my face wasn’t the only one I could see reflecting back at me.

I turned, frowning at Shawn. He shouldn’t be back here, it said staff only on…

His hands were cold on my cheeks, his lips soft and plump against my chapped ones. I was stunned. Horrified. Delighted. Hard. So fucking hard, and so was he. My ass hit the filing cabinet, unsteadying it, sending a stack of papers into a flurry around us.

Shawn shoved his leg between mine, rubbing his thigh against my cock as he ground against me. I could taste breath freshener, smell that he’d quit smoking. I should have questioned what the fuck it was he thought he was doing, but I couldn’t. My best friend from college, the guy whose hard cock in a group shower had made me realise why I didn’t really like my girlfriend, was unzipping my cargo pants.

I didn’t close my eyes when he dropped to his knees. Didn’t look away when he whipped my cock out from behind black cotton, pressed it against my belly so he could suck my balls into his mouth, one after the other. I watched, slack jawed, giving the cabinet behind me all my weight as he spat them out with soft pops.

He dragged his teeth along my shaft, nibbled my foreskin, swirled his tongue around the tip that was already leaking precum. I didn’t make a sound until he pulled his head back and spat on me. Wrapping his hand around my cock, twisting his wrist, his head bobbing quickly back and forth until I wanted to scream. Until I had to fight the urge to grab his hair and fuck his mouth until I came down his throat.

When he heard my moan, he rose to his feet, breathing hard as his tongue pushed past my teeth. Stroking my cock between the palm of his hand and my belly, sinking his hand to the roots of my hair and banging my head off the hollow metal drawer behind me.

I wanted to respond. To smack his face for the way he’d sneered at me eight years ago. To drop to my knees and take that cock – twice the size of mine – into my mouth, fulfilling one of the fantasies that had caused me so much heartache back then.

I didn’t get a chance to.

Shawn spun me around, shoving me against the cabinet with his forearm while he pulled my pants and shorts to my knees. A moment of calm, the sharp rip of a foil packet, another noisy spit and then I was crying out, arching my back, pulling my ass cheeks apart so my old friend could fuck me.

God, he was so big! I’d been through many partners since I’d come out, but not one of them had felt like this. Shawn’s cock was thick and veiny, long and curved. Neither of us made a sound. All I could hear was the wet sound of sex, the slow, rhythmic tapping of metal on plasterboard. And our breathing. I could hear us breathing, could feel Shawn’s hot exhalations on my neck.

“Guess what,” he whispered, slowing his thrusts, straining deep inside me every time his groin pressed against my ass.

“You’re not as straight as you thought you were?”

His laugh was quiet. “I think that’s pretty clear. Do you want to know how I realised?” Stopping mid thrust, he leant in to whisper. “I stumbled across a nude picture of you online. You’re fucking hot, Jeff. You always were and I’m sorry I was such a dick back then.”

I almost refused his apology. I think he knew that too, because he mashed my face into a drawer front and started to fuck me again. So deep, so fast and so hard. The cabinet rattled, smacking off the wall behind it, making the pictures surrounding it shake on their hooks.

Shawn reached around, grabbing my cock, and that’s when I started to fuck back. Our bodies bounced off each other, my dick slid back and forth through Shawn’s tight fist. We both started to growl, our rhythms no longer in sync as we approached orgasm.

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna come in you,” Shawn panted. “I’m gonna come in my best friend like I should have years ago. Come in my hand, Jeff. Fucking give it to me.”

Almost as if it was doing as he said, my cock started to pulse, filling Shawn’s hand while he slammed into my ass and ground slowly against me. I wished he hadn’t been wearing a condom. How good it would have been to feel him come inside me.

As soon as my head stopped reeling I slipped away, peering through the beaded curtain into the shop. Colour drained from my face when I spotted a pretty blonde leaning against the shop counter, her smile lazy and dreamy.

Shawn washed his hands then patted my back, waiting until I zipped up before he spoke. “Come on out and meet Rachel, buddy.”

“Rachel?” I whispered.

“My wife.”

“Y-you’re married? To a woman?”

“I am, yeah, and man, do we have a proposition for you…”


Prompt #258 – Long Lost Friends

3 thoughts on “A Blast from the Past

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *