When I first came out to people at my high school, some people were skeptical. One day, I was standing at a lab table titrating sodium hydroxide into lemon juice when I decided to come out to my two lab partners. I wasn’t really good friends with either of these two guys, so it was pretty easy to tell them I was gay. (Honestly, I enjoyed the attention I got when I came out to the very liberal people in my class). My lab partners, however, refused to believe me, since I had dated (and was infamous for having had sex with) a girl in that class for over a year. One of my lab partners, Max, scurried over to my ex-girlfriend at another lab table and asked her to confirm that it was true that I was gay. (She was still one of my best friends). She sheepishly confirmed that I was gay, but this was not quite enough for Max, who said, “If you’re gay, kiss me.”
“Wouldn’t a straight person be just as capable of kissing you?” I asked.
“No.” He said. “If you were gay, you would kiss me!” Max leaned over the table and prepared his lips. I just looked at him incredulously.
“Well maybe,” I said, “but not in the middle of chemistry class, with the teacher watching right over there.”
Fair enough, Max said, sitting down. For the next couple days in chemistry, Max bombarded me with questions about being gay, still under the veil of doubting my homosexuality, and making a joke of it. “So, are you a pitcher or a catcher?” he would ask, and I would do my best to dodge his questions. He also seemed interested to know, “If I were gay, would you have sex with me?” I had to seriously lie my way out of this one, because the real answer was a resounding “yes!” Max was an athletic, average-height, and had blond hair and blue-eyes. His butt was perfectly rounded and I had frequently in the past had to repress the urge to reach out and grab it, not that he would necessarily have done anything but giggle, and put on his gay voice to say “Oh my! Aren’t you frisky?”
In addition to the numerous personal questions, Max would take every opportunity to sit on my lap and blow me kisses from across the room. It was a sort of mockery I suppose, but not in a mean way. I always played along and groped him or blew him kisses back. One day in chemistry I really had to pee so I grabbed the hall pass and went into the small little bathroom that serviced only the few science classrooms in the basement, so it only had one stall and one urinal. Who else did I run into as I entered the bathroom but Max, who was finishing peeing.
“Hey sexy,” he said. “Wanna see my wiener?” I wanted to say yes, but instead said no. Luckily he backed up as he peed and allowed me to watch him finish up anyway, turning to me when he finished and waving it around in the air. “How about that kiss now?” he asked. I feigned reluctance as I leaned in to kiss him as tenderly as I could, so as to prove my gayness. My lips met his, and he wrapped his arm around my back and pulled me close to him, so his flaccid penis, still hanging out of his shorts, pressed up against my pants. He also stuck his tongue into my mouth and started making out with me, still mocking me, of course. I happily reciprocated, but broke off this kiss after about 10 seconds.
“What’s the matter, honeybaby?” he asked.
“I have to pee…” I admitted. That was, after all, the primary reason for my visit.
“Mmmm” Max groaned, in his best imitation of a hot-and-bothered gay person.
I went over to the urinal, unzipped my fly, and started peeing, and Max moved in behind me and started groping my pecs and grinding into my ass as I peed. Naturally, I started getting hard, but luckily I was only semi-erect by the time I was done peeing and quickly re-sheathed my penis. As we walked back to class, he licked my ear. Jokingly, of course.
One day Max, my ex-girlfriend and I had to get together to do a chemistry project at my ex-girlfriend’s house. Her mom left for the day to play cards with her friends. “’Optical isomerism in pharmaceuticals,’” Max read, “’means that synthetically produced drugs will contain two enantiomers, with different pharmaceutical effects’…do you think we can make a song out of that?” I confirmed that we could, and started writing down chords on a piece of paper. “We’ll need a topless dancer for the music video,” he said, gesturing at my ex-girlfriend and her ample rack.
“Why me?” she protested. “Why can’t we just have male nudity?”
“I bet someone here wouldn’t mind that…” Max said. I just retained my poker face. As we continued to work on the project, my ex-girlfriend just laid down on the couch because she wasn’t doing much, and Max laid down on the other side of the couch, gesturing alluringly at me. Pharmaceuticals could wait; I needed to capitalize on Max’s jokingly-gay mood. I descended upon him, laying my head upon his chest and stroking his hair. “Hey lover,” he cooed, “how about you take off my pants.” Meanwhile, he was watching my ex-girlfriend’s face to gage her reaction to the homoerotic behavior taking place on her couch. She didn’t react. At that point, it became Max’s mission to get a reaction out of her.
This basically gave me carte blanche to do whatever I wanted. I moved down and unbuttoned Max’s pants and worked his pants off his body with his underwear. Then I did a sort of odd maneuver where I laid on my back between his legs and pulled his ass over my face, so that I could eat him out. He sat up on my face, which admittedly hurt quite a lot, so that he could look smugly at my ex-girlfriend, who still pretended to be disinterested and falling asleep. Then Max leaned over forwards and started undoing my pants and began to suck my dick. I couldn’t believe it – could we have reached the point where he was no longer joking? Was this legitimate dick-sucking or ironic dick sucking? Either way, I was enjoying it. While he did so, I began sucking his dick. At some point, Max suggested that we find a cozier place, and I knew exactly what he meant.
We picked ourselves up and went into my ex-girlfriend’s bedroom and threw ourselves onto those very familiar sheets I had rumpled so many times, (always pretending that I was screwing a guy instead of a girl). This finally got a rise out of my ex-girlfriend, who followed us and protested. “Oh come on…not on my bed…” but she was powerless to stop us. I mounted Max, who was lying on his stomach, and grabbed some lotion of my ex-girlfriend’s dresser as lube. I first started moving back and forth along Max’s ass crack, until I finally decided just to go for it and I slowly worked my penis into his butt hole. I expected pained protest, but it turns out Max was too much of a man for that kind of whining. I increased the pace until I was fucking him hard. My girlfriend just covered her eyes and slowly walked away.
As I got close to coming, I pulled out of Max’s ass and turned him over, cumming all over his stomach. At that point we receded under the covers and just rolled around and touched each others bodies for a few minutes, until we slowed down, laid facing each other, and just tenderly made out.
“I won’t tell anyone,” I said, hoping to assuage any guilt he was feeling.
“Are you kidding?” he laughed, “The guys are going to think this is hilarious!”
