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Brad

I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Like, really couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Alex had never had his cock sucked.

Ever.

Not even once.

Not even a little bit.

And it just kept circling round and round in my head since he told me last night.

We were sitting on the same couch he’d had for years. We’d been playing Xbox on this couch in his parent’s garage since we were kids. This couch was, like, our thing. The dirty orange suede three-piece couch that was all crinkled and scratched from so many years of us sitting our asses down to fuck around was basically our second home.

We spent more time on the couch than we did in our bedrooms. Every day after hockey practice, and sometimes all weekend, we’d sit here and play or do our homework or chat about girls and I just…

Alex had never had his cock sucked.

He’d scooted right to the edge of the couch, the tip of his tongue poked out the corner of his mouth like he always did when he focused.

“Come on!” Alex swung around as the death sound blared from the TV, glaring at me from the other end of our couch. “That was totally easy, Brad. What the hell were you doing just standing there?”

I ran my eyes over him, taking him in like I never had before. We’d both seriously bulked out since we began weight training years ago. I mean, yeah, there were those rumors about him being gay, but he’d been on and off with Suzy for so long that no one even thought about it anymore. Plus, Suzy was super possessive and beat them back with her tits.

But, like, he was hot. He was taller than me by at least half a head, his muscles were bigger, and his thick brown hair looked great in a ponytail running over his shoulders. He was growing into one of those pretty faces I knew they’d use for ads when he left to play for the Wranglers.

But still…

“You’ve really never had your dick sucked?” I cut through his rant, just going straight for it. We must have talked about it at some point—I was totally happy telling him all the stuff I did with the girls I hooked up with, but I couldn’t actually remember him telling me about anything he’d done.

“Yeah, Brad.” He scowled at me before flipping his attention back to the TV. “Can you drop it? It’s just a thing, okay?”

My brow furrowed as he leaned forward, his solid thighs spread as he pushed his elbows onto his knees. Thighs that were definitely strong enough for someone to grip as they went down on him.

“But you’re going off to the big leagues,” I said after a pause. “Like, you can’t go to the NHL without having your dick sucked, dude. I’m pretty sure it’s a law.”

It wasn’t that I hated talking about him getting drafted, but there was a little pulse of hurt whenever I mentioned it. Not that I cared he got drafted before me—he deserved it way more. But he was leaving town.

And he was leaving me.

I’d already accepted my place on the Redhill Kites to train at the college and try for another year. But I couldn’t imagine that year without Alex. It had been driving me nuts since I first realized I was going to have to go a whole three hundred and sixty-five days without seeing him.

Sure, he’d come home from games and stuff, but it wasn’t the same. We wouldn’t be us .

Because that was the thing, really. When Alex left, who was I going to hang out with? Everyone else on the team rocked, the girls at school were always up for some fun, but Alex was the one I always wanted to be around, even if he was being grumpy as fuck. If he asked me to hang out, I’d drop everything, even if it was a party I’d been dying to go to. Even when Alex was in a bad mood, hanging out with him was just as good as anything else, especially if hockey was involved.

And I didn’t know what I was going to do when he was gone.

It was like a gaping hole that had been eating away inside me ever since he got drafted.

That’s why I wanted to make sure this was the best summer of his life. I wanted him to think this summer was so fucking amazing that he’d never forget me, even if he went off and made new friends. Obviously, I was always going to be his first friend, and no one could take that away from me, but what if he found other people?

So, if I ticked off all of Alex’s firsts, then I’d be the most important person in his life. He’d never do anything without me, even if I wasn’t there, because he’d always remember me.

It was the absolute perfect plan.

And… He’d never had his cock sucked…

Alex sighed, biting his lip in a way that dragged my attention to his plump pink flesh, and heat rolled through me. It would have freaked me out if it was with any other guy, but it was Alex—everything was cool with Alex.

Way back before we started high school, I found out Alex hadn’t had his first kiss. So, I did it for him, just to get it out of the way. He was so nervous and fidgeting about it, but it was just what friends did for each other.

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye as I pretended to focus on the screen.

I hadn’t really told Alex that I’d gotten off with one of the guys on the team last summer when I was wasted. It was just some kissing, not even touching each other or whatever. I didn’t want to tell him in case he thought it was weird—sometimes he got super touchy about sex, and it was kind of hard to guess when he was okay with me talking about it. But he usually told me before I got to the good part of the story if he wasn’t in the mood.

I hadn’t sucked a cock before, but I’d had tons of blow jobs. It couldn’t be that different giving instead of receiving. It was just like switching to offence after playing defense for most of your life.

Probably.

I mean, I’d seen his dick when we were changing in the locker rooms and stuff like that, but it wasn’t like I’d looked looked.

“Are we going again or what?” Alex asked, shooting me another glare.

I’d obviously pissed him off by asking about his cock, but I just needed to know.

Our parents were out doing one of their Home Depot trips, and no one from school was coming around in the morning after the party we’d had last night, so we were totally free to do whatever.

I edged closer to him while he was setting up our next game. It was only when I was basically pressed up against him that he noticed.

“What are you doing?” he asked as he flinched, his eyes wide.

I ran my hand out along the back of the couch, my heart stammering. I didn’t think I’d actually get nervous with him, but it was there, flickering away as my fingers crept up the back of his neck, following the bumps of his spine as I leaned toward him.

He didn’t move an inch, not until my lips touched his neck. He suddenly shot back, knocking against the arm of the couch.

“Brad!” he yelped, slapping his hand on my shoulder, pushing me away, far enough to see his shocked expression.

The anger blazing across his face should have been enough to tell me to stop.

“Hey, man, you look pretty sexy right now, you know that?”

“What?” he snapped. “What are you talking about?”

Before I could even think about it properly, my hand was on his abs, lifting his shirt. He sucked in his stomach with a gasp, like he was making room for me to get under his shorts.

My fingers creased over the hard ridge of his muscles and the coarse line of hair leading to his cock. With a brush of my thumb over it, I was suddenly intensely aware of how much I wanted to follow the path.

We worked out together and put in the same amount of effort every day, but he always had more muscle than me. I drank beer and loved my Taco Bell, while he was Mr. Clean. Which was probably why he got drafted and I didn’t.

The sting of failure was quickly wiped away, and Alex’s throat bobbed as I leaned in again. From the wary look in his eyes, I really thought he was going to punch me.

I paused just long enough that he could stop me if he wanted to, but he didn’t make a move.

Instead, his chest swelled as he drew in a shuddering breath.

“Brad, wait.” His voice cracked. The pressure of his flat palm on my shoulder faded as his fingers bunched my shirt.

I kissed his neck again, right on the soft point below his ear. And, like it was totally natural, my fingers left his happy trail to dance up his chest, tracing all the solid bumps of muscle until I swept my thumb over his nipple.

And the sound he made went straight to my cock.

A shiver fled over his skin as his moan echoed through my lips. My excitement buzzed as I pressed harder on his nipple, and I nearly groaned as he stretched his chest into my touch.

He was totally getting off on it.

“B-Brad,” he said weakly as I kissed his neck again. I’d never heard him sound like that before, like he was needy or something. He made the smallest noise from the back of his throat, and I closed my eyes as I followed it down his neck. But I was too slow; it vanished before I could properly taste it.

“Why are you doing this?” he whispered as I nuzzled my nose under his ear. He always smelled of soap, but I’d never realized it had a flowery hint to it.

I pulled back again to see how confused he looked. But he kept a firm hold on my shirt and wouldn’t let me go.

I wanted to make him feel better. Normally, I knew what to say to make him smile, but my dick was taking over.

“Well, this is what girls like. It’s how I make them feel good. Get them warmed up, y’know?”

“I’m not a girl!” he protested as I stroked his nipple again.

“Yeah, I know,” I said, my voice was low as his heavy body writhed under me.

I really knew. I knew because there was no way a girl would be this thick, this muscled, who would have shoulders so wide there were days when I couldn’t get my arms around him after practice. Our ritual was a hug before we stepped on the ice, and one after. And, as we grew up, our hugs had become tighter and sometimes longer.

But that was just what friends were like.

I took in the full stretch of him. The way his back curved, how his thighs parted as he shuffled away from me, the tiny gasps he gave each time I touched him. Hell, even the spread of his cheeks and his thick eyebrows were turning me on.

I mean, I hadn’t had sex for a week, but I didn’t think it was that bad.

Dropping my hand from his nipple to the line of his pec, my other hand found the end of his ponytail. I loved how we both held our breath, fixed on the way my fingers strolled from his chest to find the tense muscle of his thigh.

I only meant to tug at his leg so he’d open up for me, but my hand landed way too high. High enough to casually bump against his cock.

The moment I did, Alex lit up. His fingers dug into my shoulder, and he gasped so sweetly, I nearly threw myself at him and kissed him. His hurried breaths scattered over my skin as he looked at me with a mix of lust and alarm. And it was fucking electric.

His hand trembled, and I thought he was going to stop me. But he didn’t break his stare, letting me go on, his voice becoming shakier as I pressed at his groin.

My best friend, my huge puck-crazy best friend, softened under me like melted butter. He gave a deep moan as I cupped his cock through his shorts.

He made it so easy to mold my hand around him, especially as I felt the outline of him. I swear, my hand was the perfect size to slot right over his cock.

“Brad,” he called my name, and I wavered as I held him for longer. “Brad, why are you touching me like this?”

I thought he’d be angry and glare at me like he always did whenever I was being an ass. But I couldn’t say anything as I found his lips wet and parted, his chest heaving as he panted, and a blush riding his cheeks. And he wouldn’t let me go. My T-shirt was full-on cutting into my neck because he was gripping it so tightly.

But he wasn’t just gripping me; he was pulling me closer.

Sparks sizzled through my veins, the same kind I felt for all the girls I got a boner for.

My heart thumped as I met his eyes filled with a need I’d never seen before.

“Oh shit,” I murmured as those sparks turned into a shimmering fire. He slowly notched his hips down, grinding into my palm as his back fell against the couch.

It was an open invitation.

Alex wanted it. He seriously wanted me to keep touching his cock. He wasn’t calling me gross or a freak or anything.

“Brad,” he called for me again.

And it was so good. Like, sexy good. Like, I want to fuck my best friend kind of good.

I moved my hand, searching as I found the shape of his cock. I wanted to wind him up just like I did before I jerked off.

It was only right that the more I stroked him through his shorts, the stiffer he got. I’d be offended if he didn’t.

And he was big. Not porn star big, but his cock was definitely thicker than mine. He was packing enough that I wouldn’t go hungry if I ate him up.

“What are you doing?” he whispered.

“I just can’t believe you’ve never had your dick sucked, man. Not even once.” My gaze swept from his cock, over his abs, catching on his hard nipples poking under his white shirt.

How the hell had no one offered to blow him when he looked so fucking sexy?

“So?” he asked, craning his neck away from me, leaving the smooth arch of his neck exposed. His head dented the top of the couch, giving me more space to chase the racing heartbeat in the vein under his ear with my lips.

“It’s got nothing to do with you,” he replied, his voice strained as he let go of my shirt to grab my shoulder. I couldn’t tell for sure, but I swear he was keeping me against his neck.

“It totally does, dude. Like, I’m your best friend,” I said before laying a kiss on the sharp point of his collarbone. “I don’t want you getting hot and heavy with a puck bunny and then you don’t know what to do when she goes down on you. What if something gets out in the news and they make fun of you? How are you going to deal with that?”

Which was why I needed to protect him. This was for him—and for our town.

Not that it was hard to just sit there and let someone get busy. But I didn’t want him to get nervous and show us up or anything.

I traveled higher. Licking up the line of taut muscle of his throat, I dropped two fingers under his cock, pressing softly against his balls. I was rewarded as he sucked in a whooshing breath, and I caught another moan under my tongue.

I was seriously getting to him, and it was turning me on so much that I ended up moaning with him.

Fuck, I really wanted to eat him up.

Heat went straight to my cock, and I shifted forward so I could pin my hips into his left side. From the way he suddenly melded himself to me, he totally got what I was saying. He knew I was feeling it, too.

“Brad…” He looked at me, half-lidded eyes fluttering as he panted through each word. “You don’t have to do this,” he said, though the way he was grinding into my palm told me the truth.

My hand froze. “Do you want me to stop?”

I wanted to tease him. I wanted to mess him up. I wanted to find out how to make him so insanely horny that he cried for me. And I didn’t want to stop when I’d barely found out how far I could make him go.

Swallowing my nerves, I lifted my hand from his cock. Instead, I took his shaft between my fingers, squeezing a line from his base to his tip through his thin shorts. I needed to investigate his cock thoroughly if we were going to get to the bottom of why he had lived eighteen years without a blow job.

“I can’t believe you’ve been packing all this and no one’s ever tasted it,” I said as my forefinger brushed over the small stain above his cockhead.

And he whimpered.

My big, tough best friend, who was called a wolf on the ice, whimpered like a single stroke to his cockhead was too much for him.

I wanted to see what else he would do if I touched him.

I was already straining against my sweats. Just a few moans and gasps from him, and my cock was as ready to go as his was.

Releasing his neck, I pushed my hand against the back of the couch, lifting myself up and twisting my body so I could lean over him.

One knee between his thighs, my wrist by his ear, and with my other hand still cupping his cock, I met his trembling gaze with excitement.