His Straight Buddy: A Story of Mutual Male Lust

by Roland Graeme

  His Straight Buddy

  A Story of Mutual Male Lust

  by

  Roland Graeme

  Copyright © 2017 Roland Graeme

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales, or to persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. Except for the use of brief excerpts in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  Published by Roland Graeme

  Cover design by Muzio Scaevola

  Table of Contents

  Prologue: Don’t Tell!

  Chapter One: Straight People’s Problems

  Chapter Two: Stirrings in the Night

  Chapter Three: More Nocturnal Play

  Chapter Four: You’re Turning Me Gay!

  Also by Roland Graeme

  Prologue: Don’t Tell!

  “If you tell anybody about this, bitch, I swear to God I’ll fucking kill you!” Santiago growled.

  Laboring hard, Diego had to catch his breath, before he trusted himself to reply. “Who the hell do you think I’m going to tell?” he finally managed to ask.

  “I don’t know. Aren’t you in the habit of boasting about your conquests, to all of your gay boyfriends?”

  “No, only straight guys do that,” Diego retorted. “For your information, buddy, we gay men don’t have to brag to each other about sex. We’re too busy doing it.”

  “You’re telling me you never compare notes?”

  “Oh, for God’s sake, Santiago! How damn paranoid are you? Nobody cares that you’ve finally decided to take a cock up your ass. Now, shut up, and let’s fuck! All this jibber-jabbering is interfering with my concentration.”

  “Oh, wouldn’t want to do that,” Santiago grumbled, sarcastically. “Okay, dude. Get back to work. Stay busy!”

  Until only a few days previously, Santiago had always thought of himself as exclusively straight. Diego, his best friend, preferred men, and he made no secret of the fact. To Santiago, his buddy’s homosexuality had always been a mysterious, baffling aberration. But he loved Diego like a brother, and didn’t judge him.

  Curiosity may not necessarily have killed the cat. But, in Santiago’s case, his curiosity about just what Diego and his tricks did together in bed had turned out to be the top of a steep, slippery slope. Once he’d lost his balance and teetered off the edge, Santiago had tumbled right down the precipice, into the depths of what he’d always thought of as depravity.

  But, to his surprise, depravity had turned out to be damn exciting—and satisfying!

  First, Santiago and Diego had slept together one night—and fooled around with each other. Diego had sucked Santiago off. After that, there seemed to be no turning back. Diego liked to be fucked, and a horny Santiago accommodated him, taking another guy in the ass for the first time in his life—and loving it.

  But Diego wasn’t exclusively a bottom. He enjoyed anal sex either way. He responded so wildly, every time Santiago screwed him, that Santiago began to wonder what anal intercourse felt like on the receiving end. Judging by the way Diego got into it, Santiago might be missing out on something!

  And so, a little shamefacedly, he’d told his gay friend that he was willing to give it a try.

  If he was going to lose his anal cherry, then at least he was going to do so with an experienced gay guy, who knew exactly how to go about it, in order to keep Santiago’s discomfort to a minimum.

  First, Diego had warmed up and relaxed Santiago’s ass, stimulating it gently first with a finger, and then with his tongue. Santiago had never had his ass licked and sucked before, not even by the sluttiest of his girlfriends. The finger-fucking and the rimming got Santiago hot, and ready to try just about anything.

  Next, Diego applied a generous amount of lubricant to both his dick and Santiago’s sphincter.

  “We’ll try it face to face,” Diego had suggested.

  With Santiago lying on the bed on his back, Diego grabbed both of the pillows and stuffed them under Santiago’s butt, to elevate his ass. Kneeling on the mattress, Diego grabbed his buddy’s legs by the ankles. He bent the legs, pushing Santiago’s knees back toward his chest, and pressing the soles of Santiago’s feet against his own big, hard pectoral muscles. Santiago’s buttocks were split open, the crack of his ass exposed and vulnerable, his manly anal pucker there for the taking.

  “Ready?” Diego asked.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be,” Santiago said, with stoic resignation. “Just go easy on me at first—okay, dude?”

  “Sure, bro,” Diego assured him. “You’ll see. There’s nothing to it.”

  Santiago wasn’t the first male anal virgin whom the experienced and even somewhat jaded Diego had fucked. Aware that, with a totally inexperienced guy, it was best to get the initial insertion over and done with quickly, and then begin the actual fucking, Diego took the plunge. With one hand, he grasped his slick cock and he pointed the thick rounded head of it at the tiny opening which it would need to penetrate, spreading one ass cheek away from its twin with his free hand, so that there was better access. The tip of his huge cock touched the hole, and Santiago, predictably, tensed his sphincter in involuntary self-defense.

  Diego applied and continued to exert a steady pressure against Santiago’s manhole, gently pulling his ass cheeks farther apart to make the insertion easier. Santiago let out a long, low moan when the head of the cock forced its way through the opening at last and in inch of the shaft slid into his anal channel as well, filling it. Diego had to fight to control himself. He almost came just from that much sensation, from actually entering the beautiful stud body of his friend—a body which had never been used in this way before!

  “Fucked,” Diego gloated. “You’re being fucked, for the first time, stud! How does it feel?”

  “Oh, it burns, man!” Santiago lamented. “I can feel your cock burning up my hole!”

  “That’ll pass,” Diego assured him. “It’ll start to feel good in a minute. Then you’ll want it.”

  “You sure?”

  “Trust me.”

  With infinite caution, Diego pressed himself forward against Santiago’s upraised butt, letting his thick cock sink even deeper into his buddy’s warm ass.

  “Aw, shit!” Santiago squealed. “Goddamn you! I do want it—I do want to get fucked! And it does feel good! Fuck me, you bastard! Oh, fuck my ass!”

  “Yeah—straight to gay, in one easy movement!” Diego joked.

  “You prick!” Santiago yelped.

  “Speaking of which, how does that prick of mine feel in your ass?”

  “Huge,” Santiago groaned. “Fucking huge!”

  “Give your ass a chance to get used to it,” Diego advised. “Relax your hole. Open up. Let it fill you. Now squeeze me, a little. Bear down on my dick. How does that feel? Better, doesn’t it?”

  “Uh,” Santiago gurgled. His eyes were closed, his jaw tense, his lips quivering. “
Uh!” he exclaimed again, more loudly. He didn’t seem to be complaining, though. He wasn’t asking Diego to remove his cock. Diego interpreted the sounds the other guy was making as acquiescence in the act.

  “Fucked, buddy,” Diego said. “You just lie back and get fucked! Enjoy the ride.”

  Chapter One: Straight People’s Problems

  Diego had been relaxing at home on that fateful evening, when his cell phone rang. It was his best friend, Santiago.

  “Yeah, guy?” Diego asked, after he picked up. “What’s happening?”

  “Do you have a guy there with you? A guy you’re planning to fuck?” Santiago asked, bluntly.

  “Ah—no, unfortunately,” Diego replied. “Why do you ask? Do you know any likely candidates you can steer my way?”

  “No. Be serious. Can I come over?”

  “Of course.”

  “I mean, can I not just come over, but can I maybe spend the night at your place?”

  “Sure. What’s happened? Let me guess. Did you and Isabel have another fight?”

  “Yeah. She kicked me out.”

  “Ah—it’s your apartment, isn’t it? She doesn’t live there. Never moved in with you. She just stays there sometimes, right?”

  “Yeah, but I sort of walked out, to give us both a chance to cool off.”

  “That was probably a smart move.”

  “I can check into a hotel, if I have to.”

  “No way. You know you’re always welcome here, buddy. Come right here.”

  “Thanks, Diego. You’re a pal. My best pal. I can always count on you, bro.”

  “Wait. Are you driving? I mean, have you been drinking?”

  “I’m in my car, but I haven’t started drinking yet. I was hoping I could tie one on once I got to your place.”

  “Feel free. I’m well stocked. Get here as soon as you can. But calm down, and drive safely.”

  “Will do. Thanks again.”

  They hung up.

  Straight people’s problems, Diego thought. I must be crazy to let myself get involved in them!

  Still, Santiago was Diego’s best friend, almost like a brother to him. Diego always tried not to hold Santiago’s stubborn, ingrained heterosexuality against him, although to Diego it had always seemed like a waste of untapped natural talent. Should Santiago ever cross the line, he’d be one hell of a hot bisexual or gay stud!

  Diego’s straight buddy was a tough, hard-muscled young Latino stud, with facial features which were saved from mere prettiness by their hint of a coarse masculinity. Santiago wore his hair close cropped to his head, in a quasi-militaristic style. The neat grooming matched his closely trimmed mustache and beard, which gave him no more than a sexy smudge of facial hair. His bulgingly muscled physique always filled out his clothes in a provocative manner.

  Still a young man, as was Diego, Santiago had nonetheless screwed many women over the years, never allowing himself to get tied down. His current girlfriend, Isabel, didn’t actually live with him, but she spent a lot of time at his place. She was an uninhibited, full-breasted, full-hipped, voluptuous slut, who enjoyed sex. As Santiago’s friend, Diego distrusted her. She was the clingy type, who was eager to latch onto an attractive guy and make him her baby daddy, entrapping him at least into a committed relationship with her, if not into actual marriage.

  So far, at least, Santiago hadn’t gotten Isabel pregnant. She was on the pill, but her lover wasn’t going to take any risks. Women had been known to forget to take their pill—sometimes on purpose. He insisted on using condoms every time he screwed her.

  All of that semen, captured in the reservoir tip of a rubber! Diego could think of much better uses to which his friend’s sperm could be put.

  Diego had been lounging about his apartment that evening in a loose-fitting pair of cargo shorts, and, by contrast, a snug-fitting T-shirt, which showed off his muscular torso. He was barefoot. He’d been drinking wine, which he often did while relaxing at home, after work at night. After taking the phone call and telling Santiago to come over, he didn’t feel any need to dress up for Santiago’s benefit. His buddy would just have to take pot luck.

  Soon, Santiago rang Diego’s doorbell.

  “Ah, the orphan from the storm,” Diego quipped, after he opened the door and found his friend on his doorstep.

  Santiago grimaced. “No need to rub it in.”

  “Sorry. Come on in. Make yourself at home. You know you’re always welcome here.”

  “Thanks. I love you, man.”

  Now it was Diego’s turn to grimace. “Right back at you. But let’s not get carried away. Unless—are you telling me that this latest fight with your bitch of a girlfriend has finally made you decide to turn gay? Or at least bi?”

  “Dream on, you horny fucker.”

  “Yeah, too much to hope for,” Diego agreed. “You haven’t got that much sense.”

  He and Santiago had always flirted with each other, in a light, teasing, macho way, which Santiago had never found threatening—and which Santiago, the straight guy, had always actually rather enjoyed. For him, it had some of the thrill of the forbidden, representing the road not traveled. Lots of macho young men “experimented,” as Santiago thought of it. It didn’t necessarily say anything about a guy’s real, ongoing sexual orientation.

  But his friend Diego wasn’t just gay—he was openly, unapologetically, and unashamedly gay, and not only was he sexually active, he was rather promiscuous, to boot. Santiago never tired of listening to Diego’s frank tales of his various sexual adventures. He got a vicarious frisson from hearing about them.

  Santiago often thought that, in Diego’s case, homosexuality was rather wasted on the man. Diego was so handsome, so well-built, and—yes—so well-hung, that, had he been straight, he could surely have his pick of women, chasing after him. Of course, these same attributes were what made him highly appealing to gay men.

  Dark-skinned, Diego had shoulder-length chestnut-brown hair, with a bit of a natural wave in it, which he often pulled back and tied behind his neck. Tonight, though, he was letting it tumble down and hang uncombed and loose, which Santiago thought looked rather sexy. It was definitely the sort of look which a lot of women—and men—would go for. Diego had diamond studs in his pierced earlobes. His full red lips looked kissable. Glancing at them, Santiago speculated—not for the first time—about what it would be like to kiss another man. Not in a chaste, buddy-buddy manner, with a peck on the cheek, but a real kiss, lustful, open-mouthed, with plenty of tongue action.

  Whenever he entertained such fantasies about his friend, Santiago always feel guilty and ashamed—but also erotically agitated, in a dark, secret way which disturbed him.

  Now, in Diego’s company, he did his best to put on a bland game face.

  Santiago had a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. Into it, he’d shoved a change of clothes, his toiletries, and a few other necessities, in anticipation of staying elsewhere overnight. Now, he set the bag down.

  “Okay, sit down and have that drink,” Diego urged his visitor. “Name your poison. Beer? Wine? Hard liquor?”

  “Are you having wine?” Santiago saw an open bottle of wine and a half-filled wineglass, on Diego’s coffee table.

  “Yeah, just a cheap red table wine. It’s not bad, though. Gets the job done.”

  “Then I’ll have the same, please.”

  “Coming right up.”

  In the kitchen, Diego took a clean wineglass from the cupboard. Returning to the living room, he filled the glass from the bottle, and handed it to Santiago.

  “Get some of that in you,” Diego urged. “Now, just think of me as the priest, hearing your no doubt sordid and disgusting confession. Spill it, and don’t spare me the details. This latest blowup, between you and Isabel—?”

  “She thought she caught me cheating on her.”

  “Were you?”

  “Uh—yeah. Technically.”

  “You dog.”

  “I couldn’t help it,” Santiago pr
otested.

  “Oh, yeah, innocent little you, once again taken advantage of by some conniving slut.”

  “That’s just about the way it happened, Diego, I swear.”

  “Oh, pull the other one.”

  “It wasn’t really sex.”

  “Define ‘not really sex.’ I find the concept fascinating.”

  “It was just oral, for God’s sake. This person just went down on me and blew me and sucked me off. That shouldn’t really count.”

  “Um, actually, I don’t disagree.” In Diego’s extensive experience, oral sex barely counted as foreplay, a warmup before the main event—which, to him, meant him and his sex partner taking turns fucking each other, until they wore out each other’s cocks and assholes. That was the real way in which men made love to each other, in his opinion. “Did you at least get off on it?” Diego asked his buddy, lewdly.

  “Hell, yes. I really blew my wad.”

  “Well, that’s what counts.” Secretly, Diego was delighted that Santiago had cheated on Isabel. He wouldn’t be exactly devastated, should the couple break up. Diego was convinced that Isabel was all wrong for his friend.

  “This shit will blow over,” Santiago predicted. “Isabel—that bitch!—she’ll realize that she’s better off with me, than without me. And, fuck! If I want to screw around behind her back, that’s my right. The cunt can like it, or lump it. I’m a man. I have my needs.”

  “Sure of yourself, are you?” Diego asked.

  “What girl wouldn’t want me?” Santiago inquired, with a naïve self-confidence. “Fuck! I can have my pick of cunts,” he boasted, crudely. “And not just women. Men, too, if I ever wanted them. Gay guys,” he specified—unnecessarily, because Diego knew what he meant. “I always have queers like you, chasing after my dick.”

  “Oh, thanks a lot, buddy, for classifying me among your queer admirers,” Diego said.

  “No offense meant, dude. What the fuck? You are gay,” Santiago pointed out. “And guys like you are always hitting on me.”

  “Lucky you,” Diego suggested, mockingly. “Being so damn irresistible.”