This Can’t Be Happening Ch. 23 – An Unexpected and Exciting Gay Sex Story
A gay sex story: This Can’t Be Happening Ch. 23 My journey continues.
This chapter is longer and not littered with sex, although there is some. Hopefully I manage to convey some of the feelings I was experiencing at the time and it’s not too boring to read. It also contains discussions about incest. All my usual thanks go out to those who have chosen to read, comment, vote, PM or add as a favourite. It means a lot to me. All names and locations have been altered to maintain anonymity.
I was still kneeling as I watched Lewis climb into his bed. Still dazed. I told him I needed to clean up first and made my way to the bathroom. I didn’t hear what he said as I closed the bedroom door.
I needed to urinate. It was weird looking down at my softening cock framed in suspenders and stockings, still wet and slimy from my own cum. The pain in my stomach had subsided somewhat and the ache in my balls now just a trace. My orgasm had been a mixture of pain, pleasure and immense relief.
I turned to the sink and started to run the water. The reflection in the mirror above said it all. A stark reminder of what had just happened. My eyes looked puffy and I could feel the dried tears in my eyelashes. I had bright red lipstick smeared all around my mouth. A mixture of drying spunk, spit and piss clinging to my lips, chin, nose and cheeks. The smell just seemed to add to the vision looking back at me. I was a mess.
Reality hit me like a demolition ball. My best friend. The person who I’d known so well, for so many years. The person who I’d grown up with. Who I’d shared some of my biggest dreams and my lowest moments with, had just royally fucked, pissed and spunked in my mouth and throat.
God. What had I done?
As I washed my face and used mouthwash, I started to tremble and doubt spread through me. How would I feel in the morning? How would Lewis feel when he woke up? Questions flooded my brain.
After finishing up, I walked back across the hallway and slowly opened the bedroom door. The smell of sex hit me as I looked pensively towards the bed and Lewis. The sound of deep, regular breathing told me he was already asleep.
I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t stay. I slipped the stockings and suspenders off leaving them where they fell and quietly grabbed my clothes and shoes, then slipped out of the bedroom. I dressed in the hallway and after sneaking downstairs, I left.
The 20 minute walk home was just a blur. I was home by about 3am and as I crept upstairs, my mother called out from her bedroom. Reassuring her it was me I got into my room, stripped off and lay on my bed. I needed to process what had happened not only with Lewis, but with coach also, but sleep took over.
It was close to 9am when I woke up. If my mother had tried to get me up, I hadn’t heard. Perhaps she’d just decided to let me lie in. As always, I had my morning erection but I couldn’t masturbate. It just felt wrong.
I showered, got a coffee and had some breakfast, then went back upstairs to lie on my bed naked. I thought about coach. It had felt good there was no doubt about it. It had felt natural with him. I liked him. Physically I liked him a lot, but it was only sex with him. Different than with Phillip, but still sex. No complications for me, although I thought it might be more complicated for him given what he’d said yesterday morning. Still, for me, there was no emotional attachment.
My nipples were as hard as my erection as I thought about what had happened with him, so I began to play with them. Pinching and pulling them hard as I remembered fucking him. Yes, it was easy with coach. Easy for me to deal with. I was leaking.
I continued to work my nipples as I began to think of Lewis.
This was much more difficult for me to deal with and even with heavy nippleplay, my erection began to fade. How had he felt this morning when he woke to find me gone? Had he been upset? Maybe I’d hurt his feelings. Did he have second thoughts the way I had? Did he enjoy it? Did he want more? Did he fancy me? Did I really fancy him the way I thought I did last night?
He’d said he wanted me to be his slut girlfriend. He’d planned the lingerie for me. The lipstick. How far did he want to take that? Did I want it to go further? I’d been surprised at the way I looked. How it felt. I’d been turned on too, but was that just because of the situation? Did it mean I wanted to be a girl?
No, it didn’t. I could answer that one easily. Dressing up felt good, but it was just another experience, that’s all it was. There was no deeper meaning to it.
Then there was the video of Sarah and Graham. That was hard for me to reconcile. Did it genuinely turn him on? If so what did that mean? It had turned me on too, but then I had no reason for it not to. I wasn’t related to them. Yes, it definitely turned me on. More so because they were people I knew. The same way it would if I saw a video of Phillip or Mr Ali or Tracey.
If it turned Lewis on though, that was a whole different matter. I worried about it. I worried about him.
There was also the change in him. It was as if lust had taken him over. He hadn’t been Lewis, or at least the Lewis I knew so well. With all the other men, they’d retained a part of their personality. Of the person I knew. Even with the stranger in the shop there was no real change. Not so with Lewis.
I realised I couldn’t answer all of these questions. At best I could only guess. The most worrying aspect was the fear that our friendship was lost. I would have to face up to him and talk it through. Hopefully, he would feel the same.
My erection returned when I remembered how it had felt with his cock between my cheeks. The way he’d told me he’d just taken a piss. He’d listened to what I’d said about the first video. He’d listened and acted on it. Not only that but he’d been devious. I pulled at my nipples.
I’d only expected a trace, a few droplets of piss. But no. Lewis had chosen to give me more. He must have stopped his flow towards the end. Planning to give me a real taste. To show me I was his slut and if I voiced my thoughts he was only too willing to act on them, taking any choice away from me.
My cock was leaking profusely as I drifted on the thought, my fingers flicking at my nipples.
The way he’d pushed his hard cock down for me to suck, knowing he was about to give me a stream of his piss. No droplets for his slut. I’d get a proper mouthful.
My cock was throbbing erratically. The way he’d forced me to gulp it down and then the other stream that had flowed out with his beautiful cock in my throat.
Fuck! I pulled my legs over my head and squirted my cum over my face and into my mouth.
My orgasm subsided and confusion took over again. Worry. Excitement. Humiliation. Too much was happening for me to deal with. I had to get a grip.
I lay there and let my cum dry. I liked that feeling. I liked it too much.
Young men didn’t do the things I was doing. Was I nothing other than some kind of pervert? Had this been residing in me all this time. Would I be like this with women or was it just with men?