Boyfriend/Girlfriend
By Natty Soltesz
Mark was over my place. It was the middle of the day and I was in my sweatpants. There was no real reason for him to be there.
“Want to flip a coin?” he asked with this sheepish smile. Like I hadn’t seen that one coming.
“C’mon, Mark,” I said. “I’ve got a girlfriend. You’ve got a fuckin fiancé. You’re really going to tell me you still want to do the whole boyfriend/girlfriend game?”
That’s what we always called it: boyfriend/girlfriend. It’s not the sort of thing for which you take the time to come up with a snappy name.
Mark shrugged. Was he blushing? I felt sort of bad. One of the things we’d agreed upon early on was that we wouldn’t discuss it much. If one of us proposed flipping a coin, the other one said “yeah” or “not now.” We didn’t draw it out or make a big deal out of it. It wasn’t a big deal sort of thing, which was pretty much what made it great.
But, truthfully, that seemed like ages ago.
“Sorry, man,” I said. “I’m just sort of surprised is all. I mean, we haven’t done that since you moved away after college. It’s been…what? Two years?”
“I know,” Mark said, playing with the seam of his t-shirt. “I’m not here just for that. I miss hanging out with you. I know we have different friends and everything now.”
“Oh, man, don’t say that – we’ll always be good buds,” I said, barely believing it myself. There was a time when I would’ve said my friends were friends for life. Two times, actually: high school and college. But I was figuring out life didn’t work quite that way.
“I know,” Mark said. “I guess I just miss the way things used to be, you know, with everyone. And with us.”
“It’s cool,” I said, reaching over and punching Mark on the shoulder. “Don’t sweat it.”
Mark waited a minute. He looked up from his shoes. “But you don’t want to flip a coin?” I let out my breath. I’d sort of had to take a minute to wrap my head around it, but once I did, I started to bone up. Old habits die hard, I guess.
“Yeah, I could be up for that,” I said. The smile that burst on Mark’s face just about killed me. “You got a quarter, or what?” I said. Mark searched his pockets.
“I guess I don’t,” he said.
“Hold on,” I said, and got up. I knew Mark’s eyes were snapping right to the tent I was pitching in my sweats. I had to remind myself not to be embarrassed. This was Mark, after all. We’d been through a lot together. I got a quarter from my laundry jar and put it on my thumb. “You call it,” I said. The ding of the metal when I flicked it against my nail hung in the air as the quarter shot up.
“Heads,” Mark said. The quarter came down and I caught it in my palm. I flipped it on to the back of my hand and held it out so we both could see.
“Tails,” I said. Mark took a deep breath.
“And so it goes,” he said, which is what we always say when we lose the coin toss. Or what we used to say, I mean.
***
I met Mark on my first day in the dorms. He lived on the floor below me. He was on a football scholarship. I ran track. He had dark hair, I had blond. In some way we complimented each other, like a yin/yang thing. We became the nexus for a close group of friends, but at the end of the day it was always Mark and me. We told each other everything. I felt closer to him than I ever had, with anybody.
I guess it was near the end of our first year that we started the whole boyfriend/girlfriend game. We were sitting around my dorm room on a Saturday night. Neither of us felt like getting on the party train. But Mark had brought a half-full bottle of vodka he’d stashed, so we were passing that.
Mark had gotten laid the past weekend with a friend of ours who got weird about it fast and was basically stalking him.
“It sucks I have to avoid her cause it was good fucking sex,” Mark said. I was stretched out on the floor and he was sitting against the side of my bed. “Or if we could at least make out. I love making out.”
“Me too,” I said.
“If we could do it with each other, that’d be so fucking perfect.”
“Huh?” I said. The comment took me completely off guard. “Make out with each other?”
“Yeah,” Mark said. “Like if one of us was a girl. We could have sex, like, whenever we wanted.”
“I guess,” I said, ready to let it slip but then I couldn’t help it, I had to laugh, and Mark laughed with me. “Or one of us could just pretend to be a girl,” I said. We laughed again but my heart was beating like crazy, I remember.
Mark suggested flipping the coin, and that was that.
***
Mark took off his baseball cap and then slid off his shirt. His body was softer than it had been in college, but it was a lot like I remembered. All that hair on his broad chest. Little silver hoops in his nipples.
I stripped too and Mark whistled. “Yeah, I’ve been working out,” I said, proud of my smooth, hard body. We got down to our briefs. There was Mark’s fat cock, bulging out the front of his briefs, a wet spot the size of a dime right where the head sat. Mark the leaker.
“Let’s do this,” Mark said, looking up from my hard cock. We brought our bodies together and pecked each other on the lips. It was the lamest kiss ever and we had to laugh.
“C’mon man,” I said, and then we really went for it. Tongues and everything. Kissing’s crucial, we realized that from the start. Even if it’s with another guy, when your eyes are closed and your mouth is working against another person, you can get lost in it.
Of course our hands were going all over each other too, but that’s how it always went with me and Mark. We didn’t mess around. That was the paradox, I guess – what made our thing so good was that it was never serious, it was just fun. But when we’d get down to it, it was totally real.
Mark began to kiss his way down my body, and I knew what that meant. At some point we’d decided that blowjobs weren’t essential, but they could still happen. The most important thing was to play up the role, to stay in character. So if you lost the coin toss and you were feeling like a blowjob was how it should go, you did it.
Mark pulled off my briefs and let my dick hang there for a minute. His mouth was open. He was letting me anticipate it, the way his lips and throat were going to work my dick. Mark’s good like that. I think we both knew that it was better when he lost the coin toss, but we never said it.
His mouth engulfed my cock. He went up and down on it with a slow suction; I mean really savoring my dick. I’d forgotten how Mark could make my dick feel like it was a straw he was going to use to suck the cum right out of my nuts. No girl had ever done that for me. It was uncanny.
He held on to my balls, really getting into bobbing my knob. I looked down and saw that the dime-sized wet spot on Mark’s blue briefs had become half-dollar sized. I started thinking things like Man, this bitch is in heat. This bitch is fucking loving my dick. I never said that stuff out loud, but always wondered if Mark thought them too.
I know when I was the girl I’d be thinking, I want your load, I want you to bend me over and fuck me like a bitch in heat. It got me off, thinking nasty shit like that. If I thought of him as a friend, I’d start to lose it. It happened a few times.
Mark lifted my balls and started tonguing my taint. Nasty bitch, I thought. He lapped at my stinky nuts, rolling them around on his face. I looked down again and realized Mark had his other hand down the back of his underwear and was fingering his asshole. I can’t tell you how much that turned me on. He was avoiding his dick to play the role. He knew I’d probably stroke him off later, but for now, it was all about his pussy. The way it should be.
I picked Mark up by his armpits and turned him around, bending him over the couch. Mark’s ass was as plump and firm as ever. I pulled apart his cheeks to look at his nice pink hole.
I could see why people would think it’s nasty to eat ass, but it’s not like I haven’t done it to my girlfriends before. It always turns me on. With Mark and me it always made sense – you got to get that pussy ready before you fuck it.
When I got my face close to his butt I could smell that he was freshly showered. Underneath that was a deeper smell, musky and sexy, and my memory of it sort of punched me in the gut. For a minute I was back in the dorm, back in the day.
I dove my tongue inside of him and it was slick and smooth. Mark moaned, groaned, rode against my tongue. Like a bitch in heat, I kept thinking. I slapped the sides of his ass and kept working that pussy, knowing it was where my dick wanted to go and that my tongue was just getting things prepared. I was so hard I couldn’t stand it.
I slid my finger inside him, slowly. His ass was still nice and tight. Mark took it easily though, and I sunk it in and out a few times, unable to resist bending down and getting a few licks at my finger, the rim of his stretched hole.
I stood up with Mark still bent over and I brought his ass back toward me. I smacked my cock in his crack a couple times, against his hole, making his dick pulse and his hole clench up. I leaned in to him, riding my cock against his ass, reaching around his chest and pinching his tits. He was so close to me. I kissed his neck and back, let my cockhead jab at his hole, pushing against it some.
There always came a point where we’d have to break the fantasy and grab the lube. I had a tube of it in my underwear drawer that I ostensibly used for jerking off, but now I wondered if I’d kept it around for Mark, like I was waiting for it to happen again on a subconscious level.
I lubed up Mark’s hole and got my dick nice and slippery.
“You need me to go slow?” I asked. My dickhead rubbed on his butthole like a pencil eraser against a page.
“Just fuck me you fuckin stud,” Mark said.
“You want my dick in you? You want my dick in your pussy?”
“Oh yeah,” Mark groaned, sounding just like a girl in a porno. I sunk the head inside. Mark groaned. I took a minute, letting him adjust, but he bucked back and took the rest of my dick inside him to the hilt like a total slut.
“Fuck that shit is tight,” I said. It was tight; I’d forgotten how good it felt. I wondered why I let our friendship slide when I could have been enjoying this on a regular basis. Who knows?
I took Mark’s hips in my hands and started slowly, steadily pumping my cock into his butt. Mark melted like butter, getting into it more and more. I knew he was right there with me and I started pounding him hard.
I got him down on the floor and laid him on his side, lifting one of his legs on my shoulder so my dick fit between his buttcheeks, which hugged it like twin loaves of bread. Mark’s mouth was slack, his eyes screwed up. His dick was still hard but his hand was underneath it, holding up his balls to give me better access to his hole.
I knew I should go longer, to try to make it last, but the truth is that neither of us ever could. I got Mark on his hands and knees cause I knew I wanted to cum in him like that, bent over like a bitch, his back arched and his ass splayed back for me, for my pleasure alone.
I porked him hard and he shoved back harder. I knew I was gonna cream a load inside of him, which was always the best part of this game – letting yourself lose it. Total abandon.
“I’m gonna cum inside you dude,” I said to Mark, breaking the role a little, but we were too far past that to care. Mark’s was gasping, oh yeah, oh yeah, and I knew he wanted it as bad as I did. “Here it comes—”
Blam. I shoved it in him to the hilt, let my balls empty themselves deep inside my friend. Mark moaned like he always did when he felt my load start to go. He started to tug on his dick but he barely had to touch it before it shot off, spraying cum all over the carpet. I held myself deep in him for the next few blasts, feeling his asshole clench around my dick as we lost our loads together. Finally we collapsed on the floor, my body splayed on top of his. Our breathing slowed in tune.
I guess the idea of the game is that we’re in love, that we’re boyfriend and girlfriend and we know each other so well that we can feel free to do whatever we want with each other. Once you accept that basic premise, it’s weird how natural it can become. But the truth of the matter is that Mark and I do know each other that well. That part isn’t an act. Or at least it wasn’t, at one time.
I wondered, as I lay there atop him, if it was possible to revive something like that.