Luke’s Big Butt Changes Ch. 09: A Sensual Gay Sex Story of Transformation on Xboylove.com
A gay sex story: Luke’s Big Butt Changes Ch. 09 Sammy POV
I couldn’t hold back my sigh as I lazily pushed my uneaten chickpeas around on my plate. I’d lost my appetite, and food had started tasting bland.
“Beta, is everything alright? You normally love chana,” Ammi said, her gentle voice laced with concern.
“Nothing, I’m fine,” I replied curtly. I normally don’t talk back to my parents, but lately I just don’t feel like me anymore.
“Sameer, don’t take that tone with us. We’re worried about you,” Abah gently reprimanded. I know I’m lucky. My parents are surprisingly liberal despite being from Pakistan. They were both from wealthy families in Lahore but met here when they went to college, so they took on some American values. They still asked a lot from me but weren’t as strict as some other immigrant parents. And they were surprisingly open-minded, I’d never heard either of them say anything remotely homophobic. I couldn’t help but worry how they would take me being bi, though.
Next to me, I heard a huff. I looked over to see Anwar, my older brother, chewing his food, clearly biting his tongue and holding back from lecturing me. He tends to save those for when our parents aren’t around, and he’ll lay into me, telling me I’m not a good son, I make things difficult for our parents, yada yada yada. You know, stuff self-righteous over-achievers say to their younger brothers.
Anwar noticed me looking at him and sent a glare my way, which I knew was code for ‘I’m going to lecture your head off as soon as we’re alone.’ I definitely wasn’t looking forward to that. He thinks that being a doctor already makes him qualified as my third parent.
“I’m just not hungry. Can I go up to my room?” I said with a heavy sigh.
Abah opened his mouth like he was going to say no, but one look from Ammi made him change his mind, and he reluctantly let me go. I retreated into my room, shut the door and flopped onto my bed, trying to put as much distance between me and my family for now.
How the hell did I even get here?
They’re not wrong. I’m not myself lately. I haven’t been for almost two months now. That’s what happens when your best friend, who you’ve been in love with since you were kids, angrily rejects you.
Yup, that’s right. I broke the first law of bisexual disasters: don’t fall for your straight best friend. But Your Honor, I’d like to get off on a technicality because there is no fucking way Luke is straight!
I can’t believe Luke said he wasn’t gay. He’s joking, right? I know he’s dense, but he can’t possibly be that dense. After all, would a straight guy really love getting fucked as much as he clearly does? I know some straight guys are into anal, but c’mon. Luke clearly loves dick.
I know it. The team knows it. The only person who hasn’t seemed to realize it yet is Luke himself. I mean, it’s to be expected. Luke is, to put it gently, not the sharpest tool in the shed. I don’t mean that in a disparaging way. It’s just a fact that Luke tends to not notice things and is slow on the uptake. Ask him and he’d say the same thing. He just doesn’t even realize that he’s gay yet.
Right?
Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I was so wrapped up in my feelings for him, I saw what I wanted to see. Maybe for Luke it was just about sex, and I scared him off by bringing feelings into the mix. Is it wrong for me to think that best friends having sex would lead to us eventually getting together?
I screwed up. I had him, and I fucked it all up. Because when we were just fooling around, Luke had the plausible deniability of ‘bros being curious’ but as soon as feelings get into the mix he has to run screaming from any implication that he’s gay.
I was pretty stupid. Honestly, I might not be as smart as I think I am. Because I should have known that somebody like Luke would not pick up on hints as I tiptoed to us being more-than-friends. I could have come right out and said it, confessed my feelings, at the very beginning, but hooking up with him started so fast. Also, can you imagine how terrifying it is to reveal that you have a longstanding crush on your best friend? I didn’t want to ruin what Luke and I had, but I did anyway.
I can’t help but run through “what if” scenarios, where things could have turned out better. Would Luke and I still be cool if I told him from the very beginning? Should I have never even started hooking up with him in the first place?
I swear that I thought Luke was gay. Well, I still think he is, he’s just so deep in denial he refuses to accept it. But straight gays don’t look at their best bros the way that he looked at me. Straight guys don’t turn down the hottests girls in school because “chicks are boring, man.” And straight guys definitely don’t love cock up their ass as much as Luke does.
I don’t care what Luke says. When I kissed him, he kissed me back, at least at first. I know how he looks at me. I know how he moans when his fat ass is getting fucking railed by my dick. I know Luke better than anyone. I can’t be wrong on this.
Luke and I met almost ten years ago. We had both signed up for the school baseball team. Right away I noticed him. His long shaggy hair that covered his eyes. How quiet he was. How he seemed to have his head in the clouds. I was fascinated by him. Who was this guy? Why is he just standing there? Why is he so quiet?
A lot of guys know me as Mr. Popular, friends with everyone. And that’s true, I like meeting new people. But what they don’t know is that I have to cultivate it. Being a brown kid in the whitest of white suburbia means you have to be extra special to fit in. Sammy the friendly guy, the smart guy, the team player, charismatic, liked by both adults and peers. When I saw Luke, the desire to get to know him was partially based on me wanting to get on everyone’s good side, but there was also this undercurrent, this connection, that just drew me to him.
We were just playing catch so Coach could teach us the fundamentals of the game, and everyone split off to find a partner. I jogged over to the outfield where he was standing. I noticed that he was using one of the mitts Coach had brought – he didn’t have his own. Ammi and Abah, on the other hand, bought me a brand new glove as soon as I showed the tiniest of interest in baseball. I guess they thought it would make me more American and fit in better.
“Hi! I’m Sameer,” I said, extending my hand. Abah always taught me to be polite.
Luke looked at me, scrunching his cute face in confusion. “Sameer?” he asked, clearly unfamiliar with my name.
“Uh, yeah. Sameer. My parents are from Pakistan,” I said, feeling defensive already. I’d gotten teased by the other boys for my name before. For the weird-smelling food I bring for lunch. All because I’m the brown kid in this blindingly white town.
Luke scrunched his face even more. “What’s a packy-stan?” Instead of mockery, I heard genuine curiosity in his voice. But he’d never heard of Pakistan? “Is that when you put a guy named Stan in a suitcase?”