Straight Friend Caleb

It had been years since I’d seen my straight friend Caleb in person. We met at a friend’s wedding. After the wedding, he basically vanished, moved to a different city, got a job, and became one of those people you occasionally like Instagram posts from but never actually talk to. I remembered him vaguely as this tall, awkward guy who wore oversized hoodies and said “cool” a lot. Quiet. Kind of broody.

So when he texted me that he was visiting the city and wanted to crash at my place. I didn’t think twice. I figured it was just one night. We’d make small talk, maybe catch up. Then he’d be gone.

What I didn’t expect was Caleb walking through the front door looking like someone I’d fucking pay to stare at.

He had this laid-back swagger that made my skin flush instantly. Tight jeans that hugged his thighs. A fitted T-shirt stretched across thick shoulders. Arms tan and muscular in a way I didn’t remember. Jawline sharp enough to cut glass. And his voice..low, casual, amused, carried this dangerous ease that made my stomach flip.

“Damn,” he said, looking me up and down with a grin. “You got taller. Broader, too. Not bad.”

I laughed awkwardly, trying not to stare back. “You too.”

He dropped his duffel right onto my bedroom floor, like he already owned the space. “Hope it’s cool if I crash in here. Couch looked like ass.”

I shrugged. “Yeah. No worries.”

But it was a problem.

Because later that night, when I came back from brushing my teeth, the light from the hallway cut a stripe across my bed and there he was. Already on my bed. Shirtless. One arm thrown over his face, lips parted, the blanket pushed down to mid-thigh. Perhaps asleep. His underwear was thin, soft red cotton that clung to every curve, and underneath was a bulge so thick, so fat, I physically stopped walking to take a look. It was curved slightly to the left and so clearly outlined it looked like it might tear through the fabric.

I stood there, frozen, throat dry. My dick was getting hard and I hadn’t even touched myself. It wasn’t just the size. It was the whole fucking sight of him. His legs splayed slightly, abs still tense even in sleep, his cock stretching that thin cotton so tight I could see the ridge of the head. He was still. Breathing slow.

I should’ve turned around. Should’ve climbed into bed and rolled the fuck over.Instead, I took a step closer to get a better view.

And then, he spoke. His voice was low. Sleep-rough. But definitely awake.

“Troy,” he murmured, like he’d been waiting for me to make a move. “If you’re gonna stare at my cock all night, just fucking come closer and touch it.”

I froze.

My face flushed hot. “You’re not asleep?” I croaked.

He smirked, eyes still half-closed. “Was. Then I felt you staring at my bulge.”

I couldn’t tell if I was embarrassed or turned on beyond belief. Probably both. “You’re... not mad?”

“Mad?” He huffed a soft laugh, then looked down at his underwear. “I’ve had a raging boner since you walked in. I was hoping you’d notice,”

He tilted his hips slightly, like a dare. “Well?”

I stepped closer until I was kneeling beside the bed, right next to his thighs. The warmth of his skin radiated toward me. I could smell him, clean sweat, faded cologne, something faintly musky. I reached up with one hand, slowly, and laid it flat against the bulge. Jesus. He was so hard. Thick and warm under the fabric. He let out a soft exhale. I rubbed gently along the length of it, tracing the shape. It twitched under my palm. Then I leaned forward and pressed my lips against the cotton.

He groaned.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” he muttered. “Do that again.”

I licked him through the underwear. Slow. Teasing. I could taste the heat of his cock even through the fabric. My hand stayed low, rubbing along his length. And that’s when I felt it. Wet. Sticky. My fingers came back damp.

“Are you... leaking?”

Caleb laughed softly, shifting his hips. “You’re the one who made me start.”

I grinned. “Let’s fix that.”

He didn’t resist when I slid his trunks down. His cock sprang out, flushed dark, thick as hell, already glistening at the tip. It curved toward his stomach and pulsed slightly with each breath.

“Jesus,” I whispered.

“Take a closer look, Troy,” he said.

I leaned in and took him into my mouth. The taste hit immediately, salty, sweet, heady. I sucked the head, tongue swirling, then slid deeper. His cock filled my throat and made me gag a little, but I didn’t stop. I wanted him to feel it. Every inch. He groaned and threaded his fingers into my hair.

“Holy fuck,” he breathed. “You’ve done this before.”

I moaned around him, bobbing faster now. My spit slicked everything, his cock, my lips, my chin. I was a mess, and he was loving it. His hips started moving on their own, small thrusts into my mouth, steady and controlled.

The sounds got obscene fast. Wet, sloppy, raw.

Gawk...

gawk...

gawk.

I was drooling in no time. Spit poured from my mouth, dripping all over his cock, his thighs, down to his balls. I was choking on it, but I didn’t stop. He just groaned louder.

“Holy fucking hell,” he breathed, looking down at me. “You are a throat goat.”

Gawk.

Gawk.

Gawk.

Gawk.

“Shit, I’m not gonna last,” he muttered. “Hold...”

One final thrust.

My nose hit his pubes. He held me there, deep, cock buried in my throat.

“Wait...wait..there I cum…”

Hot, thick spurts of cum flooded my mouth, filling me up fast. I swallowed once, then again, until it stopped. I kept my lips wrapped tight around his cock until I felt him soften slightly. Then I pulled back, panting, licking my lips.

Then I pulled back, lips still wrapped around the head, and sucked the last drop out like it was nothing. Looked up at him.

“You’re welcome to stay longer if you like,” I said.

He laughed. Still hard.

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