A Good Friend

Chapter 1: How it started with me and Rick

"Bitches, right?" Rick sighed with resignation as he walked into my apartment.

Friends since college, we'd had the good fortune to start our careers in the same midsize metropolitan city. We'd hung out for years and knew each other very well. He looked kind of down, not his usual cocky self at all.

I heard the fridge open, and Rick grabbed a beer. Walking into the living room, he popped it open and plopped down on the couch next to me.

"Yeah, I know," I said sympathetically.

Rick had just been dumped by his girl. Kaylee was a nurse at the local hospital, and had found a resident who looked just like him, but with more earning potential. Rick was not feeling the love for the fair sex today.

"She doesn't deserve you, that new dude will make her miserable."

"Whatever."

We watched the game. After a minute I said "There are good ones out there, you know."

"Like who?"

"What about Lisa?"

Lisa was a girl we knew in college. They never dated, but we all assumed they fucked.

"Yeah, she was a good one."

"What did she say that one time? 'A good friend will give you a hand job when you're horny.'"

"Yeah, she did say that," he said with a smile. "And yeah, she was a good friend."

We both laughed.

Rick slumped back into the couch cushion, watching the game through narrowed eyes. "Why did she leave me?" he whispered with audible despair, body going slightly limp, legs spreading

When his bare knee bumped my thigh, I glanced down to see his cock bulging as he thought of Kaylee. Even by our hormone-ravaged standards, Rick was a legendary horndog; he always had a girl by his side and was always getting laid by them too. Tonight was no different, but it looked like he was in for a dry spell.

For once, I really looked at him. He was wearing a tank top and short shorts, his usual uniform when he was hanging out with me. But now, I saw how he'd filled out since our college days. Back then he was skinny; I hadn't noticed when he'd developed those shoulders and abs. To my surprise, I found him attractive.

I watched the bold outline of his knotted dick twitch against his shorts. He was obviously desperate for a lay. Blue-balled in fifteen minutes if he didn't get some release. Unbidden, a searing thought popped into my head.

Any other time I would have swatted it away immediately, buried it deep. But he was so fucking miserable that my heart went out to him. I knew what it felt like, and I wanted to be there for him, to lift some of the heaviness that was weighing on him.

I felt my face flush, and I began to pant, my heart racing. My mind froze for a second. The only dick I had ever cared about was my own, but now as I blatantly ogled his package, I was shocked by an undeniable, unexpected rush of lust.

If this was a hot chick I'd just met at a bar, I'd know what to do: buy her a drink, chat her up, ask her to dance, that sort of thing. With girls, there was a playbook. I knew how to get that ball rolling.

How would I hit on a dude though? Especially a friend? I'm a dude! It should be easy, right? What would work on me would presumably work on another penis-haver.

So what would work on me? Grab my dick, obviously! If I didn't like it, I could just slap the hand away. No harm, no foul. And if I were into it, well, what could possibly be better?

Rick and I were friends, though. I didn't want to fuck that up. What if he was offended and stormed out of the house? What if he never wanted to talk to me again? I liked our easy familiarity, the way he felt free to walk into my apartment, grab a beer, and start talking like we were in the middle of a conversation.

But frankly, seeing his lively cock straining against his shorts was making me horny as well. And horniness makes me bold, willing to take risks. He and I were both hetero as far as I could tell, but now... There was only one way to find out. Bracing myself, I decided to go for it. Now or never.

"A good friend will give you a hand job when you're horny, right?" I said as I turned, shifting closer, and placed my hand, damp with nervous sweat, lightly on his thigh.

Rick looked at me, both pleading and terrified. He didn't say a word.

I ran my hand up to his hard cock, soothing him, and was gratified at how he pushed up into it.

"Just friends, right?" I murmured, instinct telling me to go slow and gentle.

"It's not gay," he muttered, almost to himself.

"No one ever has to know," I reassured him as I got to my knees between his legs.

Slipping my hand into his shorts from the side, my fingers dug through his thatch of coarse hair. Then, as I wrapped my hand around his thick cock, I gave the base a hard squeeze.

Weirdly lightheaded with elation, I pulled his shorts down and slid them off in one smooth motion. He was actually letting me do it. With growing confidence, I rucked up his tank top, my hand sliding over his chest, feeling his muscles quiver. Pulling it with deliberation over his head, I leaned back on my heels. Having undressed him with my hands, I did the same with my eyes. Resplendent and naked, he lay before me, wide-eyed and panting, a shining drop of pre-cum swelling from his slit.

I stared down at his throbbing cock with a powerful attraction. With one hand, I gripped the top of his head, stroking down with a hard pull, and cradled his balls with the other. As my fingers caressed the base of his sack, he gasped, and I knew in his extra horny state he was already about to explode.

Strong and slow, I rhythmically stroked him with my thumb from the head, pulling down as hard as I could, past that most sensitive spot of sweet pleasure just under the crown, then releasing.

Each time I lifted my thumb, he gasped slightly as he felt the queer, sharp pain that comes with the cessation of pleasure. I repeated this motion several times, my other hand gently but firmly massaging the base of his ball sack. Finally, I pulled my thumb all the way down to the base of his shaft. I felt his cock pulse in my hand, going over the edge.

With a loud moan, he began to orgasm. I quickly shifted my other hand to grasp him under the tip with a light touch, quickly rubbing while my thumb pulled down on the base of his shaft as hard as I could. As he pumped cum all over my hand, the wetness made my fingers slide delightfully over the head, and with the extra lubrication I increased the pressure.

As he sank back into the couch, spent but glowing, I felt an indescribable sense of satisfaction and accomplishment. I had been worried about him rejecting me, maybe even forcefully. I was risking a solid friendship in order to take it to someplace we never expected, and I was gratified that not only did Rick not reject me, he accepted it.

And it felt delightful to know I had taken all of his stress away and replaced it with bliss. His legs were spread limply now, and he wore a dreamy look on his face and I put it there.

Shifting under the strain of my own erection, I realized I saw him in a different way now: As a lover as well as a friend. All the endearments that I'd previously reserved for women began to swirl in my head as I looked up at his lean, handsome face, my hands still slowly working over his cock, coaxing out the remaining cum.

"That's good baby, let it all out," I whispered to him.

With a hesitant hand, trembling slightly, he reached over and stroked my hair.

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