I didn't tend to pay much attention to whether a guy was good looking or not, except maybe in that twinge of jealousy when I saw them with a hot girl, but these guys were good looking. I never heard anything from them, but my imagination would run wild, and that's when I would reach down between my legs and imagine it was some other hand touching me, and not a woman's. Sometimes I got lucky but invariably I'd end up sleeping in their spare room. We'd go out, get drunk and they would laugh at my pitiful attempts to impress the ladies. They were a steady couple and I was never one for homophobia, they were just great guys to hang out with. I had known Tristan and Mark for a long time. I never paid it much mind, just an abstract fantasy that would turn me on every once in a while. In some of my loneliest moments, I have touched myself, trying to imagine what it would be like to pleasure and be pleasured by, another man. I don't find men attractive if that's what your thinking, but I have thought about what it would be like. I'm getting ahead of myself, let me start from the beginning. Tristan was on all fours and Mark was pounding his ass hard and.
How did I get here? How did I end up sitting on a couch watching my two best friends fucking like crazy on the bed in front me? My Two best *male* friends, just to be clear.
