A gay story: Sleepover My buddy Evan came to my apartment last night. We were hanging out – it was a Friday night, not much going on.
Evan and I have known each other for years, since college. I am gay. I always figured he was straight but never homophobic. I don’t pry when it comes to some matters. We liked each other a lot then, and still do now. We met during an art class, connected, and kept in touch after the class ended and we had both graduated. Us going to the same urban campus university, we lived fairly close.
He knew I was gay, but I’m not flamboyant about it. I do, however, have a navel fetish — a thing for guys showing off their bellybuttons, usually from under crop-top shirts, but shirtless or shirts unbuttoned to the navel were just as arousing for me. It’s not something I’ve ever brought up with him, partly out of respect for his boundaries, but also because he (along with many others) probably wouldn’t “get” it. It’s been my finding that the rare times I’ve mentioned I have a thing for guys with their navels showing, the reaction is a kind of confused disbelief (“How can you find…those…sexy?”).
Evan was athletic, certainly more than me. He’s always been into running. He’s done 5K and 10K races and runs for exercise and stress relief. In our warm-climate city he has no compunctions about donning a crop-top and hitting the streets or the jogging trail, even if it’s chilly out, which still surprises me to this day.
Evan’s navel is my favorite kind — a deep, long, oval, “slit” innie, a perfect vertical line on the front of his belly and lithe runner’s form. This kind of navel is very rare on guys, so when I see a guy who has one, I lust for him pretty hard. I always craved it sexually — I wanted to touch it, feel it, kiss it, even come on it. But I never made implicit or explicit overtures to Evan to that effect. I might playfully poke his side or back, but I never touched his actual navel even though I always wanted to.
The weather outside wasn’t great this particular Friday night. It had been cloudy all day, the winds were kicking up, and it looked like it might start pouring down buckets any second. Evan wasn’t jazzed on driving home in a flash flood situation. Neither of us had plans for Saturday, so he asked if he could stay over. Interestingly, we’d never slept over at each others’ places before.
I said he could, but added that I didn’t have a separate bed. I had a queen-size bed that was large enough for two full-sized guys like the two of us. He said he was fine with that, to my inward delight. I also cautioned him that I slept mostly naked — just briefs. He said he was fine with that, also. He said he often slept in crop-tops and undershorts. He was wearing a red crop-top and briefs at that moment. It was pretty fucking hot the way he looked.
We got in my bed, the nightstand light casting a dim light to the room. As I was about to reach for the nightstand light to turn it off, he reached with his hand, putting it on mine to stop me.
“Hey, um, can we try something?” he asked, a little bit cautiously.
“Sure,” I said. “What’s up?”
“Um…can you massage my stomach? Like, my bellybutton?”
Unsure of how uncomfortable he was venturing this, I responded in a tone that made it sound like it was no big deal.
“Sure, no worries.”
He lay on his back on the bed, cradling his head with his arms up and his hands behind his head. His stomach was perfectly flat, save the gentle rising and falling of his belly. With his arms up, his navel was even a little more elongated than usual, which made me very hard.
I started gently rubbing my index and middle fingers in his innie as he lay face up in the dim light. His navel felt so soft, so warm, so good. Evan had no body hair, no blemishes — a midriff that would make even some females envious. The lower edge of his red crop-top rode about three inches above his bellybutton, framing it beautifully.
I used a series of gentle, oval strokes, occasionally pressing down into the deepest part of his innie, loving the softness of its interior.
“How’s that feel?” I asked.
His eyes were shut, enjoying it. “Really, really good…please don’t stop.”
I could feel my penis nearly throbbing now; I’m sure I was leaking precum. I was taking in this scene in my mind — a hot, straight guy who was always chill and nonchalant, who I liked a lot and who really liked me, sharing my bed, and letting me massage him, on my favorite body part on a guy.
Evan broke the silence.
“I’ve never told anyone this, but I have a sensitive bellybutton.”
“Interesting,” I responded, continuing my no-big-deal vibe.
“The main reason I wear crop-tops so much,” he continued, “is that I love the feeling of air currents, of anything on my bellybutton. It makes me want to come something fierce.”
I continued fingering his navel, listening to him, laser focus gaze on his innie.
“When I’m jerking off at my place, I’ll sometimes finger my bellybutton. But…I wanted to see what it felt like to have someone I know do it…”
“I’m flattered you chose me,” I said back. “How come you’ve never gotten a navel piercing or ring?”
“It’s really sensitive,” he answered. “Piercing would be too painful. I’m also not into body jewelry anyway. Not my style.”
A few moments passed, my fingers continuing to sensuously work over his navel, making circles, gently, steadily.
“If you want to do anything with my bellybutton, you can,” he said, breaking the silence again.
“Like…what?” I cautiously asked.
He exhaled lightly and paused. “Like…coming on it.”
“You sure?” I asked. “I come a lot, lots of it. My cum is pretty thick and syrupy, too.”
“That sounds really hot,” Evan said, still eyes closed, a faint smile creeping across his lips.
I carefully got on top of him, straddling him, positioning my crotch on top of his stomach, my hard penis dangling over his bared midriff. I bent over slightly and started rolling my penis back and forth across the opening of his innie navel, loving the sensation of his soft belly and walls of his navel against the underside of my penis head.
With his hand he took over rubbing my penis across his navel over and over. “Fill up my navel as much as you want,” he told me. I took his words to heart. His hand felt so good working my shaft. I was quickly losing control of my penis as he worked me against his navel, getting closer and closer to erupting. I loved it. I kept trying to drag out the rising semen inside my shaft but the combination of his hand on my penis and the sight of his navel was un-fucking-believably hot.
I gazed at this lustful vision of his handsome, runner’s form underneath me. I was equally intrigued that Evan had always implied he was straight. Here we were, though, fooling around.
I was very close to ejaculating. His navel felt so good. His breathing had increased, also, and some brief moans escaped his mouth, quietly.
“Hey, I’m gonna come,” I said softly.
“Do it. Don’t hold anything back.”
I kept looking the sight of his beautiful navel with him rubbing my penis against it and the erotic vision of it was just too overwhelming. I began squirting rope after rope of semen into and onto his navel, with each blast making his navel sloppier and sloppier in the dim bedroom light. The first squirt landed in the deepest part of his innie, moistening the base with cum. The next squirt filled his navel to close to the rim. The next one after that finished off filled up his navel, which was now a cloudy gray-white line, a glistening puddle of semen flickering as he continued stroking my penis. And then another one made his navel overflow with my semen, running down the side of his stomach.
He slowed down his strokes and opened his eyes to survey the goo that was all over him. He shot me a quick smile then continued looking at the mess.
After all that, I was spent, but still really horny. I watched him take his fingers and began to finger and rub the semen I’d blasted into his navel, which was thick and clingy. I have this theory that the more turned on I am by a guy, the thicker and clingier my cum is — Evan bore that out here. He lifted his fingers from his stomach letting a robust strand of cum dangle from it. He lightly waved his finger up and down, making the strand of cloudy-colored cum dance in the dim light. I think he was trying to see how much force it would take to make the strand break off and fall on his stomach, but it didn’t. We were both enraptured of this incredibly erotic vision.
He then fished his penis out of his undershorts. It was as stiff as mine, with a glisten of precum on the tip of it.
“Want me to go on?”, I asked.
“Yeah, this really feels hot,” he said, almost in a whisper.
So I then started playing with the now very sloppy, very slippery, oval deep innie slit of a navel, gently pushing my fingers in the deepest part of it, imagining how hot the sensation must be from my insistent digging around in his navel. I kept this up for several minutes, loving the sensation of my own cum on my fingers, mixed with his navel. I could not have asked for a more smoldering encounter.
His breathing became gradually deeper and deeper. A sizable wad of precum had formed on his cock’s piss slit, and started running down the side of his penis.
“I’m gonna cum…I’m gonna cum…” he whispered.
I kept fingering his navel, steadily and with a conscious rhythm of a sort, listening to his breaths and terse moans of pleasure.
Evan let out a long, final single moan that was a little louder, and then he came, and came hard. A first blast hit me right in the face on the mouth, the warm fluid moistening my lips. It shocked me momentarily, but I stayed focused on continuing to finger his navel and the semen in it.
More blasts of his warm semen shot from his penis, hitting my chin a couple of times. A final but substantial eruption hit my forearm and the hand I was using to play with his navel.
Finally, he rested. We were both a mess, a sloppy, wonderfully slippery mess. Each of us had semen on us — his jizz on my face, my jizz on and in his navel. Semen also stained the bedsheets and dotted the comforter.
We paused for another few moments, quietly breathing.
“Can you…hold me,” he said after a few moments pause.
“Of course,” I said, sliding down and gathering my body alongside him, gently taking him in my arms. He was so ample, so warm, so cuddly. His crop-top’s backside was snug against my chest, my arms were wrapped around his bared sides, and my hands were over his navel area.
I heard him starting to sniffle a moment later. Then it sounded like he was quietly sobbing. He was sobbing.
“Hey, are you okay?” I asked.
“I’ve always had a sensitive bellybutton, but had never done anything about it until tonight. I discovered I had it a long time ago, and it felt so good to play with, but I thought I was a freak or something. I never heard anyone else talking about it. And man, it feels so, so good to finger and get off to, and I…I didn’t have anyone I could share it with.”
He wiped a tear away with his right hand.
“I discovered it and then over time just kinda leaned into it. And then I just started showing it off with crop-tops, and knowing my bellybutton was showing was so hot to me – like showing it off in public, at the gym, anywhere. Knowing other guys were stealing looks at it made me so hard.”
He put a hand over mine which were over his navel and squeezed lovingly.
“And…I’ve always craved the sensation of cum in it. You gave me that tonight, and it felt amazing, so good I almost passed out.”
I was still holding him from behind. He craned his head around to meet my gaze and smiled slightly.
“I guess I’m crying because you made a deep-down dream come true for me,” Evan said, with one more sniff.
I bent over and kissed his tear-stained cheek. Then I kissed it again. And, after a brief pause, a third time.
“So, like, what does cum in your bellybutton feel like? I guess I’ve never really thought about it,” I said. “I see videos where guys fill their own but I don’t think about it much.”
“Oh, man, for me, with my sensitive bellybutton, it’s…it’s just this feeling of warm, thick syrup. Like someone squirted this really sticky syrup on my stomach. And your cum is really warm so it’s…comforting in a way. And I love slippery anyway, so feeling your cum on my fingers is just…super hot.”
I pulled him to myself, resuming the cuddle. He gently grasped my forearms around his waist. We were in a close embrace side by side.
“I guess this means I’m gay now,” he said, releasing the embrace and laying flat on his back again.
“I don’t think we have to put a label on it”, I offered, quietly. “Did it feel good?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you want it?”
“Ohhhh, yeah, so bad…so bad,” Evan said, almost in a whine.
“You’re still my guy”, I said. “I mean, we’ve known each other for years. This doesn’t change how I feel about you…at all.” Factually speaking, It really didn’t, either. I still felt close to him, closer than ever now. And I still loved his navel and body, having had the exquisite opportunity to experience it up-close and intimately.
Another pause.
“Can we do this again sometime? I mean my sleeping over and all?”
I gazed once again at the sloppy mess of semen all over his deep innie navel, still nearly full to the brim of it, and the stains on my bed sheets.
“Of course,” I said softly, bending over to kiss his cum-covered navel. “You’re my guy.”
And then I lay down beside him again, switching off the nightstand light as I did, and pulling him into a spooning position, his back against my stomach, cuddling snugly, until we both lapsed into an unconscious, blissful slumber, both of us wonderfully spent, the sounds of a now gentle rain falling outside my bedroom window.