I sat in my office, looking intently at the Philadelphia skyline. It looked exactly the same as it did every evening, but I needed a reason to keep ignoring the stack of documents to be reviewed and emails to be read. The time on my watch read 4:45 PM.
"Thank god," I thought. "The day's almost over."
I turned back to my desk and I was confronted with two family photos. The one on the left, featuring my parents and pre-teen versions of my sister and me, almost made me tear up.
Today was the 10th anniversary of my mother's death. This weekend, I would go to my pop's and spend some time with him. My sister, unfortunately, wouldn't make the trip from Texas (not like anyone was really expecting her to).
Sometimes I hated Sarah for "abandoning us." Then again, I had no idea what becoming a mom at 13 must've been like for her. Or for anyone! Even at this age, I barely knew anything about hormones or post-natal depression or any of that stuff, so who was I to pass judgment? I was certainly no saint myself. Not by a long shot.
Coming back to Pennsylvania undoubtedly left a bad taste in my sister's mouth. She had a nice, "normal" family down in Texas, and I'm sure she felt more at ease there. There, she wasn't a local celebrity, infamously linked to the world's youngest dad (which made quite the news splash back in the day, resulting in unwanted attention and declined reality show offers). There, Sarah had the minivan, and the kids' soccer practice, and the cookies to be baked for various school functions. Everything my wife Kayla had here. Well, everything except the cheating husband, I hoped.
I looked at a much more recent version of myself in the photo on the right. Kayla's smile beamed at me from the photo, along with the smiles of our three children. The words "World's Best Dad" were written on the frame, a Father's Day present to me this past year.
Looking at it filled me with both pride, and shame.
I always had a thing for my best friend Brandon, as far back as I could remember. He'd been my first kiss, under that oak tree in his parents' front yard. A kiss which had then developed into more. Handjobs, and blowjobs, and fucking well into our teenage years. Years of hiding from our parents and from Brandon's son. Countless risky sexcapades, the kind that you foolishly engage in when you're young and dumb and horny.
I "dated" a couple of girls back then, all of them introduced to me by my parents. They wanted me to have the stable family that their daughter had missed out on, becoming a 13-year-old mom. I never had the heart (nor the right words) to tell my parents, or anyone else, that I wasn't into these girls. That I only had eyes for Brandon. Brandon – who was not only a boy, but also my nephew's father. There was no chance in hell.
So I continued seeing girls, ignoring the guilt I felt for egging them on. Kayla, who I met right before my senior year of high school, was my favorite. And then... my mother got sick. Her illness progressed faster than any of us were able to cope with. A year later, she seemed to be on her death bed. I was beside myself.
"You know, son... Kayla's a really nice girl," my father had pulled me aside and told me at the time. "Your mother... she doesn't have a lot of time left. And nothing –" he'd started to get choked up and let tears roll down his face, which caused me to start crying as well, "– nothing would make her happier than to see you settled down. She– She wanted you to have this."
My father then handed me a small box. I didn't need to open it to know what was inside: my mom's engagement ring.
"If you're thinking –" he'd sniffled to clear his nose, "– if you're thinking of moving forward with her... do it before your mother's gone. It would make her so happy to see it."
"I will," I replied automatically through tears, accepting the ring.
Indeed, the promise of a wedding seemed to perk my mom up. For a few weeks, she seemed to get better. Kayla, whose ambition was always to be a mom rather than a businesswoman, happily accepted my proposal. We were married the summer after high school. Brandon was my best man. My nephew was the ring bearer. And someone was the groom. I don't know who it was, but it felt like it wasn't me.
Still, I was happy to see a smile on my mother's weakened face. It made it all worth it. She was even around three months later to learn of Kayla's pregnancy. She'd kissed Kayla's belly, and died a week later.
My phone vibrated on my office desk, a welcome distraction from my emotional flashback. I put down the picture frame I was holding, and read the four words on screen.
"You coming tonight?"
I shook my head to clear my thoughts and pull myself together, and I replied, "On my way."
Thirty minutes later, I arrived at Brandon's apartment and rang the doorbell. There was no need to ring, I noticed a second later, since the front door was unlatched. I walked up the steps to his second-floor apartment, where the door was partially ajar.
My best friend was standing shirtless at the kitchen counter, with his back toward me, dressed in a pair of cotton shorts. I closed the door behind me and walked up to him. He still hadn't turned or acknowledged my arrival. When I closed the distance between us and looked over his shoulder I understood why: he was finishing rolling a joint.
I wrapped my left arm around Brandon's waist and nuzzled the back of his neck.
"Want a beer?" he asked instead of a hello. "Grab a couple from the fridge and I'll light this up."
I reached into the fridge, grabbed two cold beers, and opened them. By the time I did that, my best friend had the joint lit and was taking a long hit. I took my suit jacket off and hung it on the backrest of one of the chairs in the kitchen. I scuffed at the idea of my suit smelling like pot. I needed to remember to air it out before going back home to Kayla.
Still, I accepted the joint Brandon handed me as I gave him one of the beers. I took a good, deep hit, held it in as long as I could, and exhaled.
"Long day?" Brandon asked a few minutes later, sensing my tension.
"Just not into it this week," I replied, without giving out too much detail.
"Maybe you'll be into this," he said. With that, he pushed down the waistband of his shorts to reveal his now-growing cock.
I didn't need any further encouragement. We both knew what I was here for. I immediately dropped to my knees and watched Brandon's cock grow in front of my eyes while I peeled the foreskin back from the head, revealing his already-slick cockhead. I slowly stroked it until it reached its full hardness.
Even after all these years, seeing my best friend's hard cock in front of me was such a turn-on. I leaned forward and took the head in my mouth, while I swirled my tongue around his leaking piss slit.
"Fuck, I love the taste of his pre-cum," I thought as I tasted the gooey liquid which Brandon was leaking in my mouth.
I opened my mouth wider and took the whole length of his hard cock, making Brandon groan. I usually liked to take this slow, but something was pushing me into being an aggressive cocksucker tonight.
My lips slid up and down his engorged shaft faster than I ever remember doing. And my friend took notice, too.
"Fuck, Cory! Something got into you today," he gasped.
I didn't reply verbally; I just let out a deep, guttural grunt while I continued to devour his cock. I removed Brandon's dick from my mouth, only to move down to suck on his big, low-hanging balls while still stroking his hard, wet shaft.
My best friend took his cock from my hand and started slapping it against my face. Apparently, I wasn't the only one with some pent-up aggression tonight.
Brandon pulled me up to my feet and helped steady me. That weed was doing a job on me; I wasn't used to smoking as much as him.
He stepped out of his shorts, invaded my mouth with his tongue, and pulled me into himself simultaneously. I felt his hard cock pressing against mine, which was still trapped in my dress pants.
Brandon reached for my belt and started unbuckling it, as I untucked my shirt from my pants. I kicked off my shoes so my pants would come off. We were both so turned on and struggled to get my clothes off as quickly as possible, as if we were teenagers in one of our parents' houses again, rushing so we wouldn't get caught.
Finally, both of us were standing naked in the kitchen. While still kissing me, Brandon started to push and guide me toward his bedroom. I walked backwards, with my eyes closed and my friend's tongue in my mouth. It felt somewhat disorienting, but I trusted Brandon. Besides, I knew my way to his bedroom quite well.
We collapsed on his bed when we got to his room, still going at each other like it was our first time. Brandon grabbed me by my ankles, flipped me over on my stomach, and dove into my ass with his face. Now, he was working his tongue against my hole, pushing it in, causing me to gasp in pleasure.
"Eat my ass!" I begged, my eyes still closed, my head floating in space.
Brandon obliged. The slurping of his tongue and lips on my hole mixed with my moans and echoed around the room.
I moved up to my knees, giving him a chance to drill even deeper inside my ass with his tongue.
"Fuuuck!" I gasped.
Brandon pushed me down on my back, climbed on top of me, and started biting on my neck and nibbling my earlobes. "He knows my weak spots," I thought, which only drove me crazier.
He reached over to his nightstand, grabbed a bottle of lube, squirted a generous amount onto his cock, and started stroking it. The sound of a lubed cock being stroked came as another turn-on for me, as the anticipation bubbled up inside me.
Next, Brandon squeezed more lube on his fingers, and moved his hand under my balls in search of my hole. He rubbed his fingers over my asshole and started inserting one of his digits into it.
I furrowed my brow and exhaled as Brandon probed deeper into my hole. His finger was shortly joined by a second, and then a third.
"Fuck me, Bran," I begged through clenched teeth.
Brandon grabbed my ankles again, and pushed my knees back towards my chest, exposing my now wet, loosened ass.
He positioned himself closer and I felt the head of his engorged cock pressing against my hole, barely penetrating it. The anticipation of being filled with Brandon's cock was usually almost as good as actually getting it, but tonight wasn't one of those times.
"Punch it in!" I commanded impatiently.
With one big push, my best friend impaled my ass with his wet, thick, uncut cock, until he was balls-deep inside me.
I saw the look of pure pleasure on his face and I'm sure he saw the same on mine, as if looking in a mirror.
Brandon leaned down and kissed me, pushing his tongue in my mouth. Simultaneously, he was fucking my ass with his cock and my mouth with his tongue.
My eyes rolled to the back of my head as he power-fucked my ass, his balls bouncing loudly against me. This had to be one of the most intense sessions we ever had.
If I thought it couldn't get any better, I was wrong. Brandon pulled out of my ass, leaving me feeling empty. I needed his cock back in me.
"Turn over! Get on your hands and knees," he ordered.
I didn't need telling twice. I immediately assumed the position, poking my ass high up in the air and burying my head in Brandon's pillow, which smelled like him.
Brandon wasted no time picking up where he'd left off just a moment ago. He punched his hard cock deep into my hole without stopping, until he was all in again. I moaned into the pillow, muffling my moans.
"Fuck yeah, take that cock, you fucker!" Brandon bellowed behind me, getting louder and rougher with each thrust.
I continued to grunt into the pillow, completely succumbing to the sensation of my friend's cock plunging back and forth inside my hole. Here, I could disassociate from the world. With my eyes closed, everything was dark. A light buzz from the beer and weed. Nothing but Brandon's scent filling my nostrils, as his strong dick filled my hungry hole.
Brandon held onto my hips as he invaded my ass. The grunts, moans, and thrusts only got louder and more intense. As did the sound of Brandon's nuts slapping against my thighs. I couldn't hear anything else. Not until a surprised voice suddenly said...
"Dad? Uncle Cory?!"
I opened my eyes, blinded by the light in the room and the sight of my nephew, Brandon's son, standing in the doorway.